The mood in the village was sour when Kindra woke. The boys must have returned with her mother, because the few people outside gave their condolences as she walked by on her way to bathe in the river.

Once clean, she went to the High Priestess’ tent. When she opened the door flap, the smell of rot almost made her retch. Even the herbs on the fire and soaking in the bowl of oil near the hearth weren’t enough to cover the smell.

Uncle Pine was helping the High Priestess, although Aunt Lisa was gone. Kindra couldn’t blame her— the stench was worse out of the snow, and the devastation to Loria’s body wasn’t hidden. The remaining cloth had been discarded in a pile on the floor. What little flesh was left was black, and wolves had made off with parts of her limbs. It wasn’t a fitting end for anyone, much less an Odion.

Kindra’s feet felt as heavy as the rocks she’d piled for the cairn. She stared at the small pieces of rotten cloth clinging to Pine’s fingers when he straightened. “I’m sorry you had to find her like this.”

She didn’t know what to say. “How, uh…how can I help?”

The High Priestess stood from where she’d been adding herbs to the oil. “We must anoint her, although I fear there isn’t much to anoint. We’ll cover her for the pyre—the tribe doesn’t need to see her like this.”

Wasn’t much to anoint? Loria was nothing more than bones. An incomplete skeleton. Kindra didn’t want to touch this grotesque form of her mother, but she wasn’t going to run out and hide like her aunt, so she nodded.

The High Priestess held out an arm until Kindra crossed the tent. The sturdy weight of the priestesses’ arm across her shoulders steadied her. She remembered anointing her father’s body, although there had been flesh for the oil to soak in then.

Pine finished picking off scraps of cloth and took the rotten pile to dispose of. He left the beaded horse, which they would place on the cover to mark Loria as an Odion for the pyre.

The oil was warm, but it dripped off the bones onto the platform they lay on. Even with the pile of clothes gone, the strong herbs in the oil couldn’t mask the rot, and Kindra gagged as she helped with the final rites, tears brimming in her eyes.

When Loria was anointed, they washed their hands. The noise outside had been steadily growing as people gathered for the pyre, and a constant hum of chatter could be heard through the door. They placed a cloth over the bones, then the High Priestess dipped the beaded horse in the bowl of oil and placed it over Loria’s chest.

“It’s time,” she said. Kindra nodded, blinking fast to dispel the tears that hadn’t yet fallen.

The crowd hushed as the High Priestess opened the door. Blessedly fresh air entered with the four men who would carry Loria to the pyre: Pine, Petoskey, Monk, and Caden—the man Loria had been visiting in Fie Bradach since Fennec’s death. The first time he’d come to Fie Eoin, Kindra screamed and tried to attack him with her father’s spear. Now he looked just as tired and heart-heavy as she was.

“My condolences, Kindra,” he said as he stepped past her to grab a corner of the platform.

She nodded. “And mine to you.” There was no reason to hate him now—Loria was with Fennec.

Monk squeezed her arm, but said nothing. The High Priestess handed Kindra the bowl of oil, grabbed a torch from the hearth, and led them out of the death-filled tent.

Kindra kept her eyes on the bowl of oil as she followed her mother’s corpse between the tents to the side of the cliff near the whipping rock. They didn’t want to risk a bone rolling off the platform on the steep incline, so the pyre was built below the cliff instead of above. The men placed Loria on the four-foot high log structure, and Kindra poured the remaining oil around her. She faced the pyre as the High Priestess said the blessings—it was too much to face the crowd. It would only remind her that she’d lost everything if Kaye never returned.

The High Priestess touched the torch to the oil-soaked platform and the flame caught.

“We give you, Loria Odion, back to Trina, Goddess of lovers. We give you, Loria Odion, back to Eoin, patron of your family and the tribe. We give you, Loria Odion, back to Aleda, the Mother of us All.”

The flames drank the oil and licked at the logs and Kindra had to step back from the heat. Before she did, she whispered, “Tell father I miss him, and I will avenge you both.”

The words were swallowed by the roar of the fire.

It wasn’t long before the fire engulfed the platform and people began drifting away. Kindra could see Gar from the corner of her eye, waiting to speak with her, but she’d stand vigil until the last flame died.

Before Uncle Pine left, he leaned over to her. “We’ll have food waiting when you’re finished.”

She almost told him not to bother, but no words would form. She nodded instead. Soon it was only her and Caden remaining at the fire. They stood, silent, and watched the pyre collapse on itself. The smell of rot had finally burned away.

As the day wore on, she noticed Caden worrying at a bandage on his wrist, but she didn’t ask him about it. That would be rude, and she’d been rude enough to him over the past eight summers. By the time the shadows elongated and dusk began to fall, he was constantly fidgeting and shifting his weight from one foot to another. Kindra wondered again how Loria could have chosen this man after Fennec. He couldn’t even stand still at her pyre.

Full dark engulfed them, and Kindra’s stomach complained, but she didn’t move. Caden put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked at him, surprised he found the courage to touch her. “Your father was a good man, Kindra, but you get your strength from your mother. Never forget that.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I know.” Kindra had tried her whole life to be like her father, but Loria had been strong in her own way. It was a silent determination that could undermine any loud show of strength. Like water dripping over a rock and wearing it down to nothing.

Caden held out his left arm so the bandage he’d been worrying at peaked from under the sleeve. “You have my support.”

He left Kindra wondering what he meant.