The end of breakfast was interrupted by travelers from the south. It was unusual for anyone to travel at this time of the year, but what really caused a stir were the horses travelling with them.

Aside from the Odions' mark, no one in the Seven Tribes had ever seen a horse. They were mythical, sacred animals. They were also much larger than Kindra imagined. She thought horses were the size of deer, but the largest stag she’d ever seen didn’t match the size of the smallest horse the travelers had with them.

The people of the Seven Tribes swamped the visitors. The horses had their ears back, uncomfortable with the crowd’s attention. Kindra couldn’t blame them. If she could put her ears back like that maybe people would keep a wider berth around her too.

“It can’t be,” one of the travelers said and stepped forward. He spoke Aledan like a tribesman, and compared to the dark-haired men he was with he looked Aledan too. “Is that Kindra Odion? All grown up—and a warrior? I can’t believe that sly old fox did it.”

Kindra froze as every eye in the crowd turned to her. She had no idea who this man was.

Gar’s mother stepped forward, grin as wide as her outspread arms. “Coyote!”

He smiled at her. “Patricia Bayn? For Trina, you’re as beautiful as ever. How do you manage?”

They embraced. Kindra couldn’t remember a Coyote in the Seven Tribes, nor why he would be travelling with another tribe.

Monk was standing next to her and bent over to speak softly. “Coyote was Geoffrey’s father.”

Geoffrey’s father. Geoffrey who had been one of the reasons her own father died. Kindra’s hands folded into fists.

“Not everyone feels the need to lay blame.” Monk patted her stiff shoulder as he moved on to speak with Coyote.

If Kindra made it through this day without punching someone, she would consider it a successful Feast. She was spared greeting the stranger when the High Priestess walked over, and everyone moved aside.

“Coyote Everett,” she held out her hands and he took them. “What brings you back to Fie Eoin, and during the Festival of Aleda?”

“My apologies for that, Lady.” He bowed as well as he could with his hands caught in hers. “Had I known we would have stayed in South Valley for the day.”

“Nonsense. You are welcome guests. We have plenty to share.”

His eyes swept over the crowd, and he must know it was a lie. Faces were gaunt, if cheerful, but none as gaunt as his and his men’s. “We would be grateful. There is a famine in the south, and we’ve been travelling upriver, trading wherever we can.” He dropped his voice, but Kindra was close enough to hear. “I did hope you would take pity—this is the tribe that sent food to us during the Starving Winter.”

The High Priestess nodded. “I remember. We will give you whatever we can.”

“And we will pay for it generously.” He indicated the bags slung over the backs of the horses.

She released his hands and reached out to the nearest horse. It shied away, but she murmured something, and the horse stilled and let her pet its long nose.

“Beautiful,” she said, and Kindra could swear her eyes held awe and some fear. “What an interesting creature to appear on Aleda’s Day.”

Was that a good thing? The horse was Eoin’s sacred animal—was He encroaching on Aleda? A shiver went through Kindra at the thought of her vision, and what the appearance of the horses might mean. She needed to talk to the High Priestess as soon as she could.

The lady turned, the awe gone from her eyes, and held her arms up to the people gathered around. “We welcome our brother, Coyote Everett, and his new kin to our Festival. If you care to trade, you are welcome to do so.”

There was a surge of bodies and Kindra was shoved back. No matter, the only thing she wanted was a horse to use against the Obsidians, and she doubted they would trade her for that.