It took a long moment for Kaye to figure out where she was when she woke. The smell of salt and fish reminded her, and she sat up to find Abigail gone and her son in the hut instead.

“Hullo,” he said and grabbed the tea next to the fire. “I’m Timin. I don’t know if you remember me from before.”

She took the cup. “Kaye Odion. Thank you for bringing me here. I’m sorry I passed out.”

He smiled. “I was glad to help.”

She sipped her tea and studied him. He had his mother’s kindness, but a great sadness that echoed her own. She hadn’t noticed yesterday, but there was a third cot in the hut.

“Are you feeling better?” Timin said. When she didn’t reply right away, he looked at his folded hands. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid question. My mother says I talk too much.”

“I’m feeling better.” It wasn’t true. Now that she’d had time to rest, Kaye found that her body ached even more than before. Her ribs, her ankle, her chin. She touched it, expecting a cut, but the skin was smooth. The crashing in her ears hadn’t gone away either.

“My parents told me what happened,” he said, then looked abashed. “I mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

She nodded. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to be left alone to process what had happened. A ring of bruised, red skin circled both wrists, reminding her every time she looked down. Which was quite a lot, since they throbbed in time with her pounding head.

“Are you hungry?” Timin said.

“Does it taste like the foul river?”

He chuckled, which made her smile. It was calming to hear someone laugh again. “Everything we eat comes from the ocean. Nearly everything. We have some greens from the forest. Maybe some jerky.” He began to look for it and Kaye hoped she hadn’t eaten the last of it yesterday.

He found the last piece and she ate it quickly. She could feel his gaze studying her, but she didn’t look up until he spoke.

“I’m sorry the crowd scared you yesterday, but…is this why the silkies haven’t returned? Are they afraid because they know someone was hurting you?”

Kaye still wasn’t sure what a silkie was, but the Breens made it quite clear they didn’t want anyone to know she was Faye. She looked at her wrists. “I don’t know. If they are connected to your Goddess somehow then maybe they’re as scared of the Obsidians as I am.”

“The Obsidians have never come this way.”

Kaye smiled, although she didn’t feel it. “Good. Then maybe I’ll be safe while I recover.” She didn’t feel safe, but it was better than running through unknown territory on her own.

Timin’s rough hand covered hers and she looked into his strange water-colored eyes. “I’ll keep you safe, Kaye. Even if they follow you here—I swear I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe from them.”

“Thank you,” she said, wondering if his promise came from believing her a sacred creature, or if it had something to do with the sadness woven through his energy. “But if they come there will be nothing you can do.”

His brows knit together, but before he could say anything the tent flap opened, and Abigail stuck her head inside. “There are silkies on the beach.”

A wide smile broke out on Timin’s face, and he appeared at ease for the first time. He pulled Kaye up—her body protested, and she had to close her eyes and clench her teeth until the pain passed—but the smile didn’t fall from his lips.

“Promise you won’t change back?”

“To what?” She asked, still focused on the subsiding pain.

“To your other form,” he said. He looked at her with such earnestness that she had no choice but to agree. Especially since she knew she wouldn’t change into anything at all.

“I promise.”

“Good.” He led the way through the village to the wide stretch of sand. At first Kaye couldn’t see over the heads of the crowd, but as they realized she was there they parted for her. She walked to the front of the group and got her first sight of a silkie. It almost made her laugh.

The beast looked like a glossy, earless dog lying on the beach in the waves. It had no feet, but something closer to fish fins that it used to drag itself around. She almost asked how anyone could possibly confuse it for a human when it turned its head and she saw its eyes—big and brown and so utterly human that she gasped a little and reached for Timin’s arm to steady herself.

“Do you know who it is?” Timin whispered.

The creature barked and Kaye jumped in surprise. The crowd around her cheered and barked back. More silkies came ashore and the crowd was jubilant, barking and calling blessings to the creatures and to Kaye. One man, who had the air of chief about him, called for quiet.

“To celebrate the blessings of our Mother Awena, our Ancestors the silkies, and our special guest who has favored us with her presence,” he bowed to Kaye and the crowd cheered, “we shall hold a feast!”

Another cheer and the crowd dispersed; men to retrieve nets and spears to catch the feast, women to retrieve fresh water and cooking supplies. Soon the tribe was a whirlwind around them, and only Timin and Kaye were left watching the silkies.

His eyes were glassy as he watched the creatures. “Thank you, Kaye, for bringing them back to us.”

“I did nothing.”

His smile was full of relief and loss as he watched them, and she wondered again who the third cot was for. She was about to ask when a commotion on the other side of the beach caught their attention.

“We look for a witch.”

The poorly pronounced phrase set her nerves on edge and wings aflame with fear and adrenaline. Kaye turned to find the unmistakable black clothing and spear tips of the Obsidian Nation. There were only a half-dozen men, but a half dozen armed men against an injured woman was not promising, and she couldn’t fly away this time.

The barks of the silkies changed to a sound of fear and disapproval as the creatures took back to the water. The villagers who were nearby watched their sacred beasts disappear into the waves in mute anger.

The chief of Gaerlom fumed. “You have ruined an auspicious occasion,” he said, but one of the Obsidians was already whispering in another’s ear and pointing in Kaye’s direction. In the midst of the mostly dark-haired tribe, Kaye’s golden hair stuck out like a beam of sunlight on a stormy day. Corbin wasn’t present, but the man in charge was the same who followed her up the mountain. When he turned and saw her, his eyes narrowed.

“Witch,” he said in Obsidian. “You will not cause trouble this time, or we will kill these people and the Seven Tribes.”

Kaye froze in fear. Timin’s hands settled protectively on her shoulders, and the men who had already retrieved their spears formed a half circle between her and the Obsidians. A half-dozen Obsidians couldn’t kill all of the Gaerloms, but they could return with their full force in the spring when the passes were clear of snow.

“You should go. Now.” The chief said. “You have scared the silkies off. Awena will curse you for this dishonor.”

“We will not leave without the witch. She belongs to us.”

“You injured a sacred creature.” The chief’s knuckles were white around his spear. “You cannot have her to abuse again.”

The head Obsidian sneered. “It is a sacred sacrifice. Her death will bring life to our tribe, sons to our chief, and obsidian to our lands. Mountain will be pleased with her death, and will rain down the precious stone.”

“Mountain?” Timin, and every Gaerlom within hearing distance, glanced to the north, where a hulking mass smoked and rumbled. “You’re the ones upsetting Mountain.” He pulled Kaye behind him as the Gaerloms began to speak in angry tones about Mountain and silkies.

“We will destroy your tribe if you don’t give her to us.” The Obsidian spoke over the angry crowd.

Kaye touched Timin’s arm—she couldn’t let anyone else be killed because of her. “I’ll go with them. You don’t know how dangerous they are.”

“You will not.” Timin didn’t turn around. “You don’t know how dangerous Mountain is.”

“They will kill all of you.” She tried to step around him, but Timin grabbed her arms so hard she almost cried out.

“What they did to you already woke Mountain. If we let them continue, He will destroy Gaerlom.”

“This is ridiculous—I’m not even a silkie.”

Timin’s grip relaxed a little. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you are or aren’t, the silkies recognized you, and Mountain is angry at how you’ve been treated by those men. If they are allowed to continue, Mountain will explode. Gaerlom will fall into the sea. Those of us who manage to survive will be plagued with Faye changelings until Mountain is appeased.”

What in Aleda was he talking about? Faye changelings?

“You have one more chance to hand her over,” the Obsidian said. The men of Gaerlom had their spears ready and Kaye looked into Timin’s blue eyes.

“You can’t win a war against the Obsidians. I don’t want anymore deaths on my head. Please, let me go.” She took a step forward, but Timin’s hands tightened on her arms.

“No.”

Kaye’s shoulders sank as the chief repeated him. Another village was going to be destroyed because she didn’t give her life for a sacrifice.

The Obsidians bristled. “We will return in the spring, and you will watch the witch die before we kill you all.”

Kaye stared until the last of their black hair disappeared into the forest. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” she whispered, tears closing her throat around the words, so they came out rasping.

Behind her the silkies began barking again as they returned to the shore. Timin finally released her.

“We saved you, and we saved our village.”

“Only until spring.”

The people of the tribe began carrying out their tasks again, preparing for the feast despite the darkened mood. Kaye shook her head and headed back to the hut. She should have told them what she was. She should have shown them her broken wings and let them hand her over to the Obsidians, but she was too scared. Even now she was too scared to run after them and surrender herself for the safety of the Seven Tribes and Gaerlom. Knowing the Obsidians, they’d kill her, and then kill the tribes anyway. The only thing to do now was to bring the Aledans and Gaerloms together to fight their common foe.

Her clothes were still damp, but she grabbed them despite that. She would have changed, but Timin followed her in.

“What are you doing?”

“I must go home. I must tell Kindra about our mother, and warn the chief that the Obsidians are going to attack in the spring.”

“But you’re injured. And the guest of honor for the feast.”

She rounded on him. “I’m not a silkie! I didn’t bring the silkies and I’m not the reason your Mountain is angry. But I am the reason you’re all going to be dead next spring.” She began to cry from frustration and fear, and Timin wrapped his arms around her.

“Hush. I already explained it to you. We have the winter to prepare. We can’t fight Mountain, but we can fight men.” He pulled away and pushed the hair from her face. “Listen to me, Kaye. Whatever you are, Awena sent you here for a reason. If that reason was to destroy Gaerlom, then so be it. But perhaps it was to bring our tribes together to beat the Obsidians.”

She didn’t reply. There was nothing to say that she hadn’t said already, and she was too tired and sore to keep fighting.

Timin released her. “Stay here for a while. Recover from your injuries. Then take a message home to your tribe that we will join them as allies against the Obsidians.”

Kaye reluctantly agreed.