Black Sun

by Rebecca Roanhorse

  Fresh snow frozen to a thin layer of ice crunched under her bare feet and glazed the hem of her robe. Her breath clogged her nose with ice, and her whole body shivered violently.

  It was dark even through her blindfold. She was sure it was night or early morning, that last gasp of darkness before dawn. Dawn on the solstice. She wondered what Iktan was doing, if xe was preparing for the ceremony, or still in bed, or, as she feared despite what she had said to Abah, dead. She shook her head. Even now, she worried about xir fate.

  Her feet hit the thick heavy fiber of one of the sky bridges that ran between Otsa and the other districts. Rough filament cut her feet, but they were so numb with cold the pain only dully registered. The bridge swayed beneath them as they crossed, and she imagined the great Tovasheh river below them.

  “Stop!”

  They stopped, and the hands that held her gripped her hard enough to make her cry out around her gag.

  “What is it?”

  The second voice was Abah’s, and she was irrationally grateful to hear a familiar voice, even if it was her enemy’s.

  “We have to go back. There’s someone at the Odo landing.”

  Odo. They were taking her to Carrion Crow. She had assumed Golden Eagle. She forced herself to concentrate and listen.

  “We can’t go back. We barely got her out undetected as it is. That damn tsiyo has razed the tower.”

  She smiled through shivering teeth. Iktan wasn’t dead. But if xe was causing chaos in the tower, then xe wasn’t the one waiting for her on the Odo landing, either.

  “There’s at least a dozen people, maybe more,” the first voice said, obviously one of Abah’s men.

  Abah cursed, something Naranpa had never heard her do. “What are they doing there?” she whined. “It’s not even dawn. We need to dump her body in Odo, or this won’t work.”

  Ah, so that was her plan. Frame Carrion Crow for her murder to justify crushing them. Not because of the cultists; Abah never cared about that. They were only a means to an end. An end that involved Golden Eagle, no doubt, and resembled Denaochi’s suspicions about influences outside Tova more and more.

  “They’re just standing there, but they’re blocking the way. We’ve got to go back.”

  “What do you mean, go back? I just said we can’t.”

  “It’s dark now, but they’ll see us when the sun rises if we stay here.”

  Nara laughed behind her gag. They were caught in the middle of the bridge.

  Someone ripped the cloth from her face. “Why are you laughing?” Abah asked, some of her customary sweetness leached away by stress and the morning cold. “You’ll be dead either way, Nara.”

  “Oh, Abah,” she said, still laughing. “You always were too clever for your own good. Whose scheme was this? Eche’s? No, he’s too simple. I smell Golden Eagle’s hand in this. What did they promise you? What did they promise him?”

  Abah had narrowed her eyes and looked like she might answer when a shout rose from the Odo side.

  “They’ve seen us!” a guard said.

  Abah looked around wildly. “Cut her throat and throw her into the river,” she finally said. “I’ll find a way to salvage this.”

  The guards grabbed her, and she struggled, screaming.

  “Wait! Take off the robe.” Nara was still wearing the brown servant’s robe they had disguised her in to move her out of her rooms. “If her body washes up in that, someone will suspect the tower.”

  Hands seized the neck of her robe and tore it from her body. The blindfold and gag came off, and her hands were untied. She stood naked in the middle of the bridge, Odo distant in the icy winter morning before her and Otsa behind her, no longer in her vision.

  “The necklace?” someone asked.

  “Leave it. It doesn’t matter.”

  Naranpa blinked. Zataya’s necklace, the small bison anointed in her blood. How had she forgotten?

  “Zataya,” she whispered. And then louder, “Zataya, help me.”

  “Nara, please,” Abah chided. “Begging won’t save you.”

  Nara smiled. Abah had not understood that she was calling for help. Now she only needed to give Zataya time to find her. And she saw only one option.

  She used all her weight to throw herself against the guard on her left. He fell against the fiber railing, causing the bridge to tilt. Abah cried out, and the guards grasped for whatever they could reach, momentarily worried more about their own lives than Naranpa’s.

  She took the moment to launch herself at the railing, grasp the top, and haul herself over into nothing.

  It was the fall she had always dreaded when she was a child in the Maw, her body plummeting to the rushing river below, the descent she was sure ended in death.

  But to Nara, it felt like flying.

  CHAPTER 37

  CITY OF TOVA

  YEAR 325 OF THE SUN

  (1 DAY BEFORE CONVERGENCE)

  And Grandfather Crow said to First Woman, tell me your stories so that I might know who you are and what you value. If your stories are of the glory of war, I will know you value power. If your stories are of kinship, I know you value relationship. If your stories are of many children, I know you value legacy. But if your stories are of adaptation and survival, of long memory and revenge, then I will know you are a Crow like me.

  —From the Crow Cycle, an oral history of the Crow clan

  When he left Xiala, he had planned to make his way to Sun Rock. The solstice festivities still filled the streets, and he passed through the people no more than a shadow. The world had been a wonder with her by his side, guiding him through the celebration. The sights and sounds and colors had come alive, superior in her telling to how they could have ever been through his own eyes. Those few hours had been the best he could remember, and for a moment, when she had shivered beneath his fingers in the bath, back arching and breath soft with pleasure, he had wondered what it would be like to be only a man.

  Another life had flashed before him. One with clan and family around him, one where he called the beauty and spectacle of Tova his home, one where the Teek captain woke in his bed every morning, and they would drink chocolate on feast days and balché on a sandy beach and play games and laugh together. He would have friends like the brothers on the barge, and he and Xiala would grow old together surrounded by children, and he would care for his crows by carving them houses from wood, and the only revenge he would take would be in the pleasure of a long and well-lived existence.

  His tutor Paadeh had once told him pain was his only friend, that he should welcome it as a lover. He had thought the man meant physical pain, the sting of his palm against Serapio’s cheek. But he understood now that Paadeh had meant something greater. He did not know how to make the pain of leaving Xiala into his friend, and it sat heavy and foreign in his chest.

  He stopped to take the pouch of star pollen from around his neck. He welcomed the shot of adrenaline that spiked through his body as he touched the powder to his tongue. He called for a crow to help him see through the city… and screamed.

  Black wings filled his head. A great mind, keen and curious, reached out and touched his. He fell to the ground, heedless of the people who stepped around him, muttering about the Crow who had likely had too much to drink.

  His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to burst, and one word came to his mind: Benundah.

  Who are you?

  He grasped for an answer, but he could not remember his name. And his name was inadequate anyway.

  He thought of his life instead. The day on the balcony when he watched the crow devour the sun. The happy brush of feathers against his hands as crows fed from his open palm. Shadow at his fingertips as he called the crows down on the crew of Xiala’s ship.

  Grandfather. We were told you were coming.

  Who told you? he thought.

  The small ones. They speak of a mighty crow disguised as a man traveling toward the City. They call you Nightbringer and Suneater. Is it true?
Do you come to eat the sun?

  It is true.

  Then how may we serve?

  I need to see. Will you help me?

  The distant cry of a great crow echoed across the canyon, loud enough to be heard over the revelry. People paused, listening, but when another did not follow, went back to their entertainments.

  And Serapio saw everything.

  He was inside the aviary where the massive corvids lived atop the black rock house. There was warmth and bedding, food and companionship. Rug saddles and bridles hung along a wall. A dozen other crows turned their attention to Benundah, as if they, too, sensed his presence.

  How many are you? he asked.

  The ones you see here, and many more in our rookery to the west. It is where we lay our eggs, far in the mountains away from humans, even the Crow clan.

  I need only you, Benundah, he thought.

  Then you shall have me.

  She took to the sky, her wings wide enough to cover the risen moon. She soared across the city, lending Serapio her eyes, and he saw the Sky Made districts. Below them in the deep canyon, the river glinted silver in the moonlight. The woven bridges gathered frost that made them glow pale as spidersilk under the stars. And there in the distance stood the celestial tower.

  It did not seem so big in Benundah’s vision. A stone roundhouse, six stories high, set alone atop a mesa. Even now behind its walls were his enemies. Part of him itched to go now, to strike down those who had dealt the Crow clan such evil, who had tried to kill the Odo Sedoh’s own voice.

  Wait, he told himself. You are meant to wait until the moment when darkness is at its fullest to strike. Do not become impatient now.

  He turned Benundah away from Otsa.

  Show me Sun Rock, he asked.

  She rode the drifting winds of the canyon east toward where he was in Titidi and showed him the freestanding mesa with its four connecting bridges and amphitheater. He saw himself in her vision, a still figure in black surrounded by a sea of color and revelry. He smiled as he saw the path Benundah showed him to the bridge and on to the Rock. It was empty now, dark and deserted under the thickening moon. Tomorrow it would be filled to overflowing with the matrons and their clans and the Watchers and, above all, the Sun Priest.

  Snow had begun to fall, only a dusting. But the wind was starting to gust icy against his skin as flakes swirled around him.

  A storm approaches, Suneater. It will bring the deep cold, the kind that may kill an unsuspecting crow. It is best you take shelter tonight and tomorrow go to the Rock.

  I will sleep on the Rock tonight, Benundah. I am the only storm that matters now, and there is no shelter from what I bring.

  CHAPTER 38

  CITY OF TOVA

  YEAR 325 OF THE SUN

  (THE DAY OF CONVERGENCE)

  And brother shall not know brother

  And take him as his enemy, saying

  Your eyes are my eyes

  And your skin my skin

  And your mouth my mouth

  But we have been so long separated

  That you do not know me even when I stand before you.

  —From Collected Lamentations from the Night of Knives

  Okoa stood in the aviary looking out at the three suns. Dawn had come late on the shortest and last day of the year, but when it did come, it was spectacular. The sun, heavy and low in the eastern sky, had split into three, each one a bright flare that burned low against the earth like a bonfire, its flames arcing upward to light the winter sky.

  It had snowed the night before, but the snow had turned to rain and then ice, and now the world below him glittered frozen and iridescent in the morning light. He huddled in his crow-feather cloak and wondered what the three suns meant. Surely it was a sign, but was it one that favored the Sun Priest, or did it predict their shattering? The only ones who knew were the Watchers themselves, and he did not trust them to not bend the truth in their favor.

  Okoa rubbed at his neck, trying to ease the tension in his body. He had not slept well. The crows in the aviary had been restless all night. He thought perhaps the weather had made them uneasy, and when he came up at first light, Benundah was gone. That wasn’t unusual; she was allowed to come and go as she pleased. Nevertheless, something about it made him anxious.

  He decided to wait for her, knowing she would never miss her morning feeding, but when she still hadn’t returned by midday, he began to worry. He thought to take Kutssah or another one of the mounts out to look for her but decided he was being overly protective. She was a giant crow and a predator. There were very few things that could harm her.

  Footsteps behind him, and Okoa turned to find one of the Shield approaching. He had sent them out across the city yesterday to look for the stranger the bargeman had named as the Odo Sedoh. They had reported throughout the day with no luck, and then one woman thought she had spotted a man matching his appearance in Titidi. He had sent someone to look further, but they had not been able to find him.

  Another worry, he thought. The Odohaa, this self-proclaimed god, and now even Benundah was missing.

  “Any news?” he asked the man.

  “News, my lord,” he said, “but it’s strange news.” He swallowed, looking uncomfortable.

  Okoa grimaced. “Spit it out, man.”

  “We believe we found the man you were looking for.”

  “Where?”

  “Someone saw him in Titidi last night and followed him. He crossed the bridge to Sun Rock.”

  Of course. He should have thought to look there first. If this Odo Sedoh was going to confront the Sun Priest today, it would be when she and the other Watchers were on the Rock.

  “Go to Chaiya. Tell him to gather the Shield,” he commanded. “We need to get to that man before the Sky Made clans and the celestial tower do.” He could only imagine the havoc that would cause, the backlash that would rain down on Carrion Crow. “And send someone to my sister. Tell her no Carrion Crows go to Sun Rock for the solstice.” He would tell Chaiya to put the great crows in the sky, too, out of Odo. Or they could go to the rookery, where they would be safe.

  He glanced at the sky. It had darkened markedly, and bands of shadow painted the ground at his feet. The sun and moon were moving into alignment as they neared sunset, and Okoa knew without a doubt that when the sun was at its weakest and Tova was under the sway of the eclipse, the Odo Sedoh would strike.

  Which meant he had precious little time to get there. Where was Benundah? If his mount was here, he could be on Sun Rock in a matter of minutes.

  “There’s one other thing, Lord Okoa.”

  He had almost forgotten the man was there. Hadn’t he told him to call the Shield? “What is it?” he asked, irritated.

  “We found your crow.”

  He frowned. “Benundah?” His chest tightened. “Is she all right?”

  “She appears to be fine, Lord, but she’s on Sun Rock with the Odo Sedoh. It appears she sheltered him there all night.”

  CHAPTER 39

  CITY OF TOVA

  YEAR 325 OF THE SUN

  (THE DAY OF CONVERGENCE)

  And knives shall break against him

  And wise men lose their rhetoric

  No succor to be found

  The sun, diminished

  Unto death

  —Prayer to Odo Sedoh, recorded at a meeting of the Odohaa

  “They do not look so terrible,” Serapio observed. He was sitting under the wing of the great crow and ran a hand through her black feathers as he watched the priesthood come. He had taken another dose of the star pollen so he could observe their arrival, and Benundah had allowed him to share her vision.

  Looks are deceiving, Benundah warned him. They have killed many Crows.

  “My tutor described them as monsters. I expected them to be something from a nightmare. But they are only humans in bright clothing.”

  He watched the four priests who led the procession. They wore long robes with matching masks—red, white, bla
ck, and yellow. He decided those must be the leaders of the societies. He marked the one in red first. His tutor had told him the Priest of Knives wore red. That was the one who would be hardest to kill.

  Serapio let his gaze drift to the priest in the yellow mask. He leaned forward, eager. His tutor had told him the Sun Priest was a woman, but this looked like a man. No matter. The individual behind the mask meant nothing to him. He was here to put an end to the priesthood and, if Powageh was right, change the very balance of the world.

  More priests filed in after the masked ones. Dedicants, he remembered his tutor calling them. Priests in training whom he would destroy before they could grow and infest.

  “And who are the others? In gold and green and blue?” Blue he recognized from Xiala’s description yesterday. “They are the Sky Made clans, aren’t they?”

  They are.

  “And where is Carrion Crow?” he wondered.

  Your own clan was smart enough to stay away today, Odo Sedoh.

  My own clan, he thought to himself. I have a clan, a family. His gaze turned toward the black cliffs of Odo just visible to the southeast. I do this for you. Please forgive me.

  He waited, Benundah silent with him. He relaxed against her strong chest, under the shelter of her wing. He only regretted they had not been able to fly together at least once.

  They were singing now, the priest and clans, words about banishing the darkness and welcoming back the sun. But it was too late for all of that.

  The shadow grew as the daylight dimmed, just like it had when he was a child. The singing grew louder below him, more desperate to his ears, as the crow god swallowed the sun.

  “It is time for me to go, Benundah,” he said.

  I know. Travel well, crow son. And I will see you when this is over.

  “Benundah…”