Chapter Two

    Night fell while Niara and Hati stood watch over the pyre. For the occasion, the Niara wore her best clothing, a handwoven organdy tunic and bush walker sandals with laces that climbed up her calves. Hati also wore her finest, the blood-orange-colored sarong that had been a gift from Niara for surviving her first hunt. Both glowing in the firelight, the pale hunter and the dark priestess watched their foster mother burn. Villagers had already come, sang their respects, and gone leaving the grieving sisters to tend to the corpse. As Baba Gen’s body went up in flames, cicadas swelled the air with their tuneless song. The warm breath of…

Privacy Preference Center