Kindra woke in the dark with a pounding headache and no idea where she was. It was pitch black, cold, and smelled of neglect. She pushed herself up and felt along the dirt floor until she came to a wall, stiff and cold with mud. Not a tent then—a hut. She must be in Fie Obsid.

She groaned and sat back against the wall, wrapping herself in her cloak for warmth. There were male voices outside, muted by the thick walls, and she was sure the hut was being guarded against her escape. When her hands warmed a little she felt along the wall—it was only tall enough for her to stand doubled over and roughly as long and wide as a grown man. There was a door cover made of wood jammed into the sides so it would stick, and over that they must have placed a hide because no light came through. She didn’t know if it was day or night, nor how long she had been in the hut. How long before they came for her? More importantly, how long before someone in Fie Eoin realized she was gone?

It could take days. Gar was certainly not going to call on her, and no one had been to check on her in a quarter moon. When they did, they wouldn’t find it odd for Kindra to be gone. The soonest anyone would realize she was missing was when she didn’t show up for the Festival of Aleda. By then she would be dead.

She sat against the wall, as far as she could from the door so if someone came to take her they would be forced to crawl in to do so. After a short time, the hide covering was moved and a small sliver of light illuminated the door. One side of the door was kicked in and then pulled free of the mud and Kindra had to shield her eyes against the blinding light that poured in around the Obsidian. She couldn’t see his features, but she pushed herself back against the wall and kicked his face as he crawled in to grab her. He swore, grabbed her ankle, and twisted it hard to the side as he tried to pull her out. She kicked at him with her other foot, and when he grabbed at that ankle she jumped at his face, clawing with her hands as he released her ankles and tried to protect his head. In this small space she had the advantage—he was too big to easily move. He finally crawled backwards out of the hole, leaving it open and giving her a way out. She took it.

It was a stupid thing to do, diving through the hole on her belly when he was just outside and had the advantage, but she was desperate and it was the only thing she could do. She didn’t even have time to stand before his spear came down across her back, knocking the breath out of her and pressing her into the mud. He put his knee on her back and tied her hands together over her cloak with a deer hide thong, then lifted her and set her on her feet. Her shoulder screamed in pain.

“Time to die, witch.” He smiled and pushed her into the trees, a dagger at the back of her neck in case she decided not to move. She walked, but only to buy time to think of a plan.

The plan never came. The prisoner hut was just out of sight of the great house and the walk was short. The house seemed to grow right out of the ground and blended in with the rest of the forest, as natural as a grove of trees. Small holes in the roof let the smoke of cook fires out, making the roof look as if it was smoldering. There was a door with a hide cover guarded by two men, and they glared at her as she was pushed inside.

It was warm inside, but it smelled of too many people. The oblong shape of the great house led straight down the middle to an ornately carved wooden chair where the chief sat waiting for her. Along both walls were small areas where families sat behind partially drawn curtains cooking, sewing, or playing games with the children. Each family had a small space to themselves, but it was hardly private. Kindra preferred the tents of the Seven Tribes.

She walked to the chief, the Obsidian blade at her back, her entire body sore and covered with mud, but her head held high and proud. Chief Obsid could have been her grandfather for his age, but he still had life in his eyes and limbs. Next to him stood Corbin Marcello.

“Where is my sister?” She demanded.

The guard shoved her onto her knees. He was holding her bound hands; otherwise she would have fallen onto her face. Instead, it pulled her bad shoulder back until she winced.

The cocky smile so present the last time they met was gone from Corbin’s face. “She’s gone.”

Kindra struggled. “Like my mother who you dumped in Deer Valley for the wolves?”

“Your mother interfered with the ceremony.”

Kindra would have done the same. “And will you put me next to my mother? Or do I get to join my sister instead?”

The chief spoke for the first time. “Your sister isn’t here. She ran away before the ceremony was complete.”

Kaye wouldn’t have broken her promise and run, knowing what the Obsidians would do to the Seven Tribes. Even if she did, she’d have run home to warn them.

“Where?”

Corbin spoke. “She’s on the other side of the mountain, with the men of the river.”

“You lie. She would have returned to Fie Eoin by now.”

“The passes are full of snow.”

“She can fly.”

The smile that spread over Corbin’s face was grim. “Not anymore.”

Kindra struggled against the ties around her wrists. “I swear to Eoin I will kill you, Corbin Marcello.”

He chuckled and put a hand over his stomach as if it pained him. “I told you once before, I’m not afraid of a girl.”

“I’m a warrior, and you best remember it. The next time I get my hands on a spear I’ll bury it in your chest.”

The guard shoved her into the dirt floor. “You will show the chief’s cousin more respect.”

“You will die by my hand too.” She spat, then curled up against the kick he sent towards her side. Pain flared in her ribs.

“That’s enough,” the chief’s voice stopped the foot from another blow. “We don’t torture women. Not even Aledan women.”

“She claims to be a warrior,” Corbin said as Kindra struggled back onto her knees. “An Odion warrior.”

The chief frowned at her and she glared at him. “I am a warrior.”

“You’re a woman,” he said.

“I have the mark to prove it.”

“Show me.”

“Untie my hands.”

The chief nodded and gave the command in Obsidian. The point of the spear left Kindra’s neck and her hands were untied. She stood, removed her cloak, and lifted the back of her shirt to show him her mark.

“What is your warrior name?”

Kindra faced him. “They call me the Bride of Eoin.”

Chief Obsid sat back and drummed his fingers on the chair. “And you expect me to believe this? That is no warrior name, and your chief would never allow such a thing to happen.” Obsid shook his head. “I know Oak Conal well and he would not allow this mockery.”

Kindra’s face burned and she took a step forward before she was stopped by the guard’s spear. “I am a warrior of Eoin—the last Odion warrior. The High Priestess herself welcomed me as such.”

“You are lying. There are no Odion warriors. It’s part of the peace treaty.”

“The treaty that allowed you to steal my sister?”

“The same. Oak promised me the last Odion warrior in Fie Eoin. The others follow the Odion’s reckless behavior, and I’ve lost my taste for war.” His fingers continued to drum as he stared at her. “I have lost an Odion priestess, but gained an Odion ‘warrior’.” He looked at Corbin. “Bring my priest.”

Corbin bowed, but Kindra saw the small wince in the corner of his eyes. She stared at Chief Obsid defiantly as they waited. “If you’re going to kill me, I’d rather not wait for your priest to arrive.”

The drumming stopped and he smiled. “If I was going to kill you it would be done already.”

His eyebrows knit together as he studied her. It was obvious he had a problem with killing a woman, even an Aledan woman, even an Aledan woman who claimed to be an Odion warrior. The last time Chief Obsid killed an Aledan woman there was war, and although the Obsidians won, they lost many good warriors. Now they had no reason to go to war, and he couldn’t want the possibility of losing a battle over a woman.

The door flap opened, but instead of a priest it was a guard, followed by the High Priestess, Gar, and his friends. The boys looked miserable, the High Priestess full of Aleda’s wrath. When she stopped next to Kindra she didn’t bother to bow to the chief.

“Devon Obsid, I see you’ve found our missing warrior.”

He stood—the most powerful man of the Obsidian Nation facing down the most powerful woman of the Seven Tribes. “She was caught poaching in Deer Valley.”

Kindra squeezed her fists. “I was caught building a cairn over my mother’s body.”

“Loria is dead?” Monk said.

“Where’s Kaye?” Gar said.

The High Priestess silenced them with a look. “Kaye is where she’s supposed to be.” She turned back to the chief. “Kindra, however, is not. And if what she says is true, then you have murdered an Aledan woman, and broken the peace between us.”

“The woman attacked my cousin.”

“You stole her daughter.”

“It was a peace treaty…”

“That I did not give my blessing to!”

Even Obsid shrunk back from that. The High Priestess’ eyes were full of the fire of the Gods and Kindra had never seen her so angry. Not even when Kaye left.

“You know as well as I, Devon Obsid, that the Seven Tribes cannot make a binding treaty without the blessing of the High Priestess. You snuck behind my back to make a shady deal with my brother. He and I may be of the same womb, but we are not of the same mind in this.”

Chief Obsid’s face burned red. The Obsidian’s peering out of their curtains wouldn’t know what was said, but they would recognize that their chief had just been put in his place by an Aledan woman.

He pointed at the High Priestess. “You will bring me the witch, or I will kill the tribe she’s staying with and bring her to you. And you will watch her die before I destroy the Seven Tribes.”

“It will be many moons before you can lead your army through the pass.”

He crossed his arms. “And it will be many more before you can build a force to match mine.”

Corbin and the priest entered, interrupting them. The priest was an old man with white hair and a cane. But his eyes were clear when he looked at Kindra, and his gaze held the same presence of the Gods that the High Priestess’ did. He seemed to search Kindra’s spirit for a moment, then bowed to his chief.

“She has the same soul as the other. She’ll do.”

“I won’t do anything for you,” Kindra said, nails biting into the palms of her hands. “I’m returning my mother to Fie Eoin for a proper pyre and then I’m preparing for war. You cannot have my sister again.”

Obsid looked at her. “Your chief may see things differently.”

“Then my chief doesn’t have to fight beside me.”

He smiled. “It’s lonely on the battlefield by yourself.”

From behind her Gar replied. “She won’t be by herself.”

Part of her forgave him right then and there, and she had to remind herself that he was the reason her father died.

Obsid waved a dismissive hand. “The whole Seven Tribes can march against me, women and children and men, and I’ll still outnumber you.”

The High Priestess put a hand on Kindra’s shoulder. “There is much that can happen to an old, heir-less man in winter. We shall send Loria Odion back to Aleda.” She bowed to the chief. “Devon Obsid, may your God keep watch over you this long winter.”

Kindra glared at Obsid and Corbin before following her. They were out of the great house when Gar grabbed her arm.

“Kindra.”

The High Priestess frowned at him. “Find Loria and bring her home. Monkey, Alder, you may go with him. Cougar, you may bring the second canoe with Kindra and I.”

They bowed and went about their duties while the High Priestess led Kindra to the canoes for the trip home.