‘Do you ever wonder,’ Ooi whispered, ter that night, once most of the harpies and their witch captives y sleeping, ‘why is it that we don’t stop them, only judge them for their past crimes?’ She eaking to Altul, the great egret whose turn it was to keep watch, and her words were faint, but among all the sisters, Objo had the kee hearing, a lingering be of her owl heritage. She hadn’t been able to fall asleep, had beeless ever since Zsa Zsa had spoken to her, had been in turmoil ever since. Objo mulled over Ooi’s question. Nemia was the god of vengeance, she supposed, a punishing god, not oerested iance, or anything siving. She was only a small step away from a god of wrath. Objo shivered, perhaps she truly had destroyed her own city.

  ‘Careful,’ Altul murmured, ‘questioning Nemia is hearsay,’ she paused a fraught moment, ‘but yes. I have wondered.’ She quieted again. ‘I knew a witch, once,’ she began, voice quieter still, ‘before I was a harpy and I was simply a great egret. We represent divine guidance, you know, in augury. Witches seeking guidance would e to my ke, pray to their witchmother. It wasn’t power or wealth they sought, those wishes were saved for their rites, but smaller things. Simpler,’ she trailed off. ‘That younger witch, the one you captured, she is i. They have a caste, those that are i are decided at birth to be so, they do meat, even the ceremonial blood skips their hands. They are the sacrifices, the ohat are sent to the after life too soon. It's an honor. Some are willing, others not. I’ve seen them both at the shores of my ke. They live a privileged but sheltered life, usually. She sighed, ‘I don’t know how Nemia will judge her. I hope,’ she trailed off. Objo waited for a while, but her bird spoke again, aually she sunk into restless slumber. She dreamed of her fallen sisters. Imita with sad eyes, whispering she couldn’t find her son, Vilirying desperately to flit away but feathers falling from her wings, Leiden cut open, but inside she was just half-woven grass, flowers blooming from her mouth only to shrivel. And the witch filled by Zsa Zsa’s spirit, whose eyes morphed into Hrae’s unreadable ones as she lifted Objo up from the ground.

  She woke with a start, Ooi settling down beside her as she and Altul were relieved by the harpy on watch. Her eyes met Ooi’s as the womaled on her side. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’ Objo shook her head, ‘it was a dream.’ Ooi hummed, ‘I’ve been dreaming too.’ It was the first time she could remember that Ooi hadn’t met her with hostility.

  ‘I see the witchgod in mine, and our sisters,’ Objo offered softly, hopeful for a retionship that wasn’t full of spite. She had never quite uood the other bird’s dislike for her. ‘I saw you, back then, in front of the witchgod,’ Ooi whispered. She paused, gatherihoughts, ‘I resented you, you know,’ she cleared her throat, ‘I wasn’t like you, born to hunt, I mean. Resple quetzals are mostly fruit eaters, though smaller animals and is are not unon. But not like barn owls. You have all this talent and I guess it felt unfair, that you didn’t have to try as hard, everyone just expected you to be the best hunter and you never once disappointed. I was jealous, I think, that I tried so hard, had to overe so mud didn’t get the same reition. But then I saw you in front of the Zsa Zsa. You, you didn’t falter, didn’t turn away, faced a god! You weren’t ever going to be a match for her, but you still faced her. I don’t know if I could have dohat.’ Objo shook head, ‘I was terrified. Am still. It wasn’t bravery. I faltered, I kneeled,’ she said emphatically, despairing at her own cowardice. ‘I don’t know why she spared me. Sometimes,’ she took a heavy breath, ‘I wish she hadn’t.’ Ooi slipped her hand in Objo’s, squeezing. ‘I’m gd it wasn’t you.’

  ‘Zsa Zsa showed me something.’ Objo said, just as Ooi’s eyes were beginning to drift shut, ‘something I hope is untrue. About Nemia.’ Ooi looked at her, eyes expeg. ‘I think oddess might have, well,’ she faltered, unsure how to put the scope of the visions into words. ‘You know the story of the st eruption, how everything around Nemia’s volo had to be purged? There was a city, Nemia’s city. I think she destroyed it in the eruption. I think she may have killed her own people, all of them.’ She waited, w if Ooi would uand the implications, the significe of such a thing. The bsphemy of thinking such a thought, let aloting it into words.

  Ooi gasped, her eyes widening, ‘you think she is a kin killer too?’ Objo stuttered, ‘I mean, it was from the witchgod, so, maybe they were false visions, or twisted somehow?’ But Ooi wasn’t listening to her, ‘I khere was something wrong with our directives, it’s such a strahing, we’re to capture the kin killing witches and bring them for judgement, but if goddess is so against the practice why not try to stop them? The hypocrisy! It must be a grudge between her and Zsa Zsa!’ Objo hushed her hurriedly, looking around to see if anyone else was waking at their voices. Bia and Asil were watg the witches now, but her seemed to notice. Ooi tinued, her voice lowered once more, ‘who else saw?’ ‘Vaara definitely, and maybe Hrae.’ Ooi scoffed softly, ‘Hrae, of course. She wouldn’t tell us even if it is all true. Atzi may lead but it's Hrae that Nemia takes into her fidence. She wouldn’t care if our entire sisterhood is based on a lie. You should be careful. If she thinks you are doubting, she won't hesitate to tell the goddess. And then,’ she trailed off. Objo pictured the violeh of the st witch she had giveo Nemia, and nodded.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Ooi whispered. ‘What we do?’ Should they free the witches? Leave Nemia? Was such a thing even possible? She had never heard of harpies leaving once crafted. ‘We wait,’ Objo said after a moment,’ weighing her words carefully, ‘Nemia may be a biased judge, but we shouldn’t n her without knowing the truth.’