text: The funeral guests were a wet, ragged group; only a few hundred of the thousand or so in their camp came topside for the funeral. Too many above ground at once was dangerous. Though the Tai Mora had swept this area before, they often sent out patrols of birds and rangers, and too many people drew both.
  
  The rain continued all through Mohrai's funerary feast. Lilia sat with Namia, Salifa, Avosta, and a handful of other white-ribboned followers, pressed close to her mentor and fellow healer Emlee. Yisaoh and her family dined at the table opposite, and Lilia noticed that Yisaoh did seem to overly enjoy eating Mohrai's finger bones.
  
  "She was skinny, that one," Emlee said, sucking the tiniest bit of marrow from a section of toe. Emlee hunched over the table, hands curled slightly with arthritis. Tirajistas treated the condition once a week, but could not stop the cause of the inflammation, just as they could not cure Lilia's asthma. Chronic conditions resisted Tira's embrace. The body rebelled.
  
  "We're all skinny," Lilia said.
  
  "Yisaoh going to speak?" Emlee asked, as Mohrai's closest cousin mounted the platform at the center of the gathering and began to recite from the Book of Oma.
  
  "I don't think so," Lilia said. "The less Meyna notices her, the better, I suspect."
  
  When he was finished, Mohrai's cousin called on Lilia to speak.
  
  Lilia rose carefully from her seat. Emlee assisted her, and Namia tagged along behind her. A few beribboned Dhai stood when she did, and there was a little hush as Lilia made her way to the dais.
  
  Rain soaked into Lilia's coat and seeped into her shoes. She took her time getting up onto the dais, and waited two long breaths before she spoke.
  
  "On this," Lilia said, "the anniversary of Faith Ahya's ascendance and the death day of our own Mohrai Hona Sorai, I remind you that we've faced impossible odds before, guided by our divine Kai, fueled by our faith in the vision that Faith Ahya and Hahko had for our people as a strong, united force against the evils of war, oppression, and slavery. It is that faith that unites us. And it is that faith that will sustain us, and ultimately save us, in this dark time. Catori Mohrai knew that. I know that."
  
  Namia leaned her cheek into Lilia's good hand. Lilia had shaved Namia's matted hair some time ago; the hair had grown back dark and straight. Braids kept it from tangling again. Half the girl's jaw hung lopsided, as if from some old blow to the face that never healed properly. What had been done to the girl was written on the scars and poor healing of her bones.
  
  What Namia must have endured often came to Lilia in her in dreams, only in her dreams it was not Namia it happened to, but Lilia. And then her dreams took her back and back, to the Seeker Sanctuary while one of the Seekers kicked and hit her with a large cane. Taigan's hands on her back. The rush of air around her as he pushed her from the cliff's edge. Down and down. When she woke, she would claw at her eyes, fearing they were gone, and find herself running her hands over the little pocked scars on her cheeks from the birds that had attacked her, thinking her dead.
  
  Lilia smiled down at Namia. "They believe us broken," Lilia said. "But Namia here is not. I am not. You are not. We are not. Many of you have joined those sabotaging supply lines and food stores. Your efforts are appreciated. We may be but flies on their backsides, but enough flies can overpower even the greatest beast."
  
  A ripple of beribboned heads raised their open hands high above their heads. Only a few at first; then a dozen, two dozen, more.
  
  Lilia met Yisaoh's gaze; Yisaoh frowned up at her from the soggy feasting table, damp hair stuck to her cheeks. Yisaoh shook her head. Meyna sat across from Yisaoh, back turned from Lilia. She smiled as she conversed with one of her husbands, Hadaoh, arms wrapped around her eldest daughter, Mey-mey, almost five; and the child Ahkio had pronounced Li Kai, little Hasao, nearly two years old. Her other husband, Rhin, studied Lilia carefully, his long face turned down in a grim expression.
  
  Lilia raised her hands. "Let us give thanks to Oma, for the life Mohrai has led, and the life each of us will be forging for ourselves in the days to come."
  
  She led the group in a recitation from the Book of Oma, one of Ahkio's favorites, something he had bandied about Kuallina during their last days there.
  
  It had the desired effect. Those who had not raised their hands joined her in the repetition of the words, the comforting embrace of the known. Even little Namia babbled beside her, humming the rhythm of the words, if not fully articulating them.
  
  When it was over, Lilia limped back to her seat. Her hands trembled, but she fisted them tightly and firmed her mouth. A few of the refugees from the camps in Dorinah approached her, all beribboned, murmuring encouraging words.
  
  She sat back with Emlee and Tasia. Tasia crawled into her lap as Meyna made her way up to the platform hand-in-hand with Hasao.
  
  They ascended the hill together. Though still so young, it was clear Hasao was a relation to Ahkio; she had his deep eyes, the narrow chin, petite features and shiny, silky hair. Meyna must have been triumphant at that; she certainly pointed out the similarities often.
  
  Meyna patted Hasao on the head, then reached into her own coat and took out a small hatchet.
  
  A susurrus of concerned voices rippled through the crowd.
  
  "This is my favorite tool," Meyna said. "Catori Mohrai and I argued often about it. She asked why I carried it, when we are a pacifist people. I told her it's useful for hacking out toxic plantlife. For cutting back the thorn fence. I've used it to enlarge our chambers, below ground. I've cut supple bows for little Hasao's small hands. Yes, it's a useful tool." Meyna lowered the hatchet and came to the front of the platform. Her wet tunic clung to her curvy form; her pregnancy was just beginning to show. "But Catori Mohrai, and some others among us, they see a hatchet as a weapon, not a tool. They intend to use our greatest strength in the worst possible way. Yes, this hatchet is useful for many things, but it will not take down a bonsa tree. It's not meant for that. It won't carve through stone. You will never lose an infused weapon to it. It serves one purpose, and to use it otherwise would be an attempt to make it something it is not.
  
  "We are like this hatchet. Sharp. Versatile. Adaptable. But all that goes away when we apply ourselves to an endeavor we were not designed for.
  
  "Who are the Dhai? We are enduring. Loving. Peaceful. Intelligent. We understand that we must exist in balance with this world, not seek to bend it to our will. We know that our greatest strength is each other. Unity is our strength."
  
  Meyna paused, gaze sweeping the crowd. "This is why I am welcoming Mohrai's cousins and child into my family."
  
  Lilia nearly choked on her lukewarm tea.
  
  Meyna tipped her head toward Lilia, and smiled. Such a broad, knowing smile.
  
  Lilia turned to see Yisaoh's reaction, but Yisaoh was nowhere to be found. Not even a breath of smoke indicated where she might have gone.
  
  Meyna continued, "You have spoken to me about the dangers of the Woodland. We all understood there would be challenges. We also knew it was temporary. While some seek to break us, to throw us into disorder, to muddy our purpose as a people, I have not forgotten who we are. It has been my honor, and Catori Mohrai's honor, to have spent these last few months finalizing our preparations to take the Dhai to a new homeland."
  
  Audible gasps. A few cheers. Cold fear traveled up Lilia's spine.
  
  Emlee leaned in and whispered to Lilia, "Did you know of this?"
  
  "No," Lilia said.
  
  Meyna's infuriating smirk quirked at the corner of her mouth. "This is why I urge continued patience and perseverance," Meyna said. "This is a not a time for rash actions and revenge, but reflection on how far we have come, and how much further we will go, together, in rebuilding the people of Dhai on a safer shore."
  
  The murmurs grew louder: questions about where they were going, and how, and when.
  
  But Meyna hushed them. "Now is not the time. Let us celebrate Mohrai's life today. Trust that Catori Yisaoh and I are bringing you to safety, true safety, on another shore, as Faith Ahya and Hahko brought their people to Dhai. We are not a place, my kin, we are a people."
  
  Lilia's mind reeled. Cheers went up.
  
  "To the Dhai people!" someone shouted, and the crowd took it up.
  
  "To the undefeated Dhai!"
  
  Lilia pushed out of her seat, head spinning. Abandon Dhai? Now, when she was so close to taking her revenge? Had Yisaoh known about this? And where in this world could Meyna possibly take them that would be safe? Lilia did not want to leave Dhai; that had never been the plan.
  
  She took up her walking stick, and stumbled away from the feasting, ignoring the attention she drew from the ground for her abrupt exit. Let them see she was displeased.
  
  Namia followed. Salifa got up to join her, and a handful of other beribboned guests, but Lilia waved them away. The optics of Lilia walking out with several hundred others holding high their ribboned heads could have been construed as actively hostile. She was fine with rudeness, but naked hostility when she did not know the full extent of Meyna's plan would do her no favors.
  
  She and Namia descended below ground to their settlement via a painful ladder that Lilia had argued against from the first day, because it meant the old and infirm, like her, suffered needlessly going up and down it when they could have used a ramp. But she was overruled, as the ladders were easier to remove than a ramp. Mohrai and Meyna had focused more on keeping out invaders, without a care for creating a prison for many of their own people.
  
  Lilia's leg ached as she traversed the cavernous underground system of tunnels connecting the bladder traps that went on for nearly two square miles, tucked just beneath the surface of the woodland. Her chest began to tighten with the stress and exercise, and she took a long swig from her mahuan-laced water bulb, hoping to stave off a wheezing fit. Lilia had found the giant subterranean puzzle of mummified traps a few weeks into the exile of the Dhai who had survived the Tai Mora invasions. It had been her idea to reverse the fangs on the dead traps in all but a few heavily monitored entrances, which prevented others from coming down. Over time, they had dug through the shallow wells between the traps, linking them into rooms, corridors, several kitchens, and even a massive gathering space.
  
  She entered the series of rooms she shared with Emlee, Tasia, and Namia, all lit with flame fly lanterns. The flame flies came to life as she approached, disturbed by the heat and movement, giving her enough light to maneuver through the small spaces.
  
  Two jistas had watch over her rooms, and put thumb to forehead as she passed. Both wore white ribbons around their necks. They were twin sisters, Mihina and Harina, long-legged young women dressed in long burlap tunics that made them look like bristling bags of firewood.
  
  "Is everything all right?" asked Mihina, the one with the stronger jaw and the tendency to cock her head every time she asked a question.
  
  "I'm fine. The weather has moved into my chest." She gave a raspy cough for good measure.
  
  Inside Lilia's room, she kept a massive old map on top of a bulbous growth that served as a table. Back against the far wall was a trunk, three paces long and two paces tall. The jistas – Salifa, Mihina and Harina – knew about the bones and silvery green symbol that rested within, but no one else. She had told Emlee it was private, and locked it, just in case. The last thing she wanted was Tasia to begin digging around in it. The box had been set up over a week ago, and in the last day began emitting a strange odor. The room smelled of honey and dead birds.
  
  As she entered, a slight figure stood up from the shadows. Lilia started, so suddenly she gasped to catch her breath. "Caisa!" Lilia said. "I'm so sorry. I completely forgot."
  
  "It's all right," Caisa said, pulling back the hood of her coat.
  
  Lilia pressed her hand to her chest, wheezing. She did not want to take the mahuan in front of Caisa if she did not need to. "I'm sorry," Lilia said. "Please, yes, let's sit."
  
  "Li?" Caisa said, and came to her side. "May I help you into a seat?"
  
  Lilia shook her head, denying consent. "I wanted to have a look at the map." She coughed. Dug around for her mahuan mixture in her pocket. Only a few swallows left. She needed Emlee to prepare another batch. Lilia took a shallow swallow and motioned Caisa to the table.
  
  The map was Salifa's work, a lovely rendition of Dhai all scratched out in violet ink on a great, pounded sheet of green paper. Lilia had marked each temple, including the sunken one, as well as known locations for the bulk of Kirana's forces: the harbor, the plateau outside Oma's Temple, Kuallina, and the pass where Liona had been. Red Xs dotting the foothills around Mount Ahya indicated where her small groups of rangers had successfully lured and abandoned Tai Mora scouting parties. The Catoris had liked that gambit because it involved no direct violence – they had lost just one of their own people in all that time, and him to a bone tree. It was the terrain that killed the Tai Mora, once the Dhai took them deep enough into the wood. Lilia had instructed her people not to touch one hair on those Tai Mora heads, even as screaming sentient trees popped off Tai Mora limbs and digested them.
  
  Namia came up next to her. She made the sign for death, as if she could sense Lilia's thoughts.
  
  "Not yet," Lilia said. She glanced at Caisa. "I'm sorry. We didn't expect a report this early."
  
  "Is Catori Yisaoh coming?"
  
  "I'm afraid she's indisposed. I'll relay the information to her."
  
  "I came as quickly as I could," Caisa said. Caisa had been part of a refugee group from another temple. She was a lean parajista, freckled and high of forehead. A fringe hid much of the forehead, the glossy dark hair cut in a severe style that mirrored the grim look on Caisa's round face.
  
  "What have they done now?" Lilia asked.
  
  "The fifth temple has finally been raised," Caisa said.
  
  "From the ocean? The whole thing?"
  
  A nod. "It's just the… heart of it, though. It's like a temple with all the trappings of it taken off. Like a beached leviathan."
  
  "What's inside?"
  
  "They aren't able to penetrate it."
  
  "They got into the other temples, though. Any movement there?"
  
  Caisa shook her head. "The temples are still bleeding, where they forced their way through. They groan sometimes, rumble. They aren't happy about it."
  
  "I wish they could do more than rumble. If they haven't gotten inside the fifth temple, then–"
  
  "They've established where the jistas will be," Caisa said. She pulled a waxed cylinder from her coat. "May I?"
  
  Lilia nodded.
  
  Caisa unrolled a few pieces of parchment onto the table. Lilia wrinkled her nose at it. The Dhai did not make paper from the skins of animals or human beings, not like the Saiduan and Tai Mora. The barbarity of it still rankled Lilia.
  
  "I have lists, here, of the jistas chosen for each temple," Caisa said, "for the niches. These are the four jistas of each time, plus a sort of… conduit: a central figure in each temple, that the others focus their power on."
  
  Lilia read over the names, but only a few seemed familiar, like Suari, Kirana's closest jista. They were all Tai Mora. She pondered what they could do with this information. Assassinate one of them? A whole group of them? But surely Kirana would have others ready to take their places.
  
  "Here is the realization," Caisa said. "You see this fifth temple? The arrangements of the jistas are different. This fifth temple, the central figure is thought to be a worldbreaker. That's the person who will wield the combined power of all five temples to close the ways between the worlds. And these other two… these are different, as well. Someone who can enter the temple, maybe a Kai? And another, just behind the Worldbreaker, that must step into this cocoon thing here. For what purpose, I don't know, but the fifth temple certainly requires more pieces."
  
  "They still haven't fully translated the book?"
  
  "No."
  
  "That's something."
  
  "We haven't either, though," Caisa said.
  
  Lilia hesitated. "Caisa, has… has Catori Meyna or Catori Yisaoh spoken to you about our people leaving the country?"
  
  "What? No!"
  
  "Catori Meyna announced it today. I'm concerned that the Catoris are no longer especially interested in what the Tai Mora are doing unless it's directly impacting us here."
  
  "But… it will impact us! If they can get the power of the satellites concentrated at this fifth temple, they could reach you, reach us! From anywhere. There's nowhere to go, when one force has that much power."
  
  "Won't they just use it to close the ways between the worlds?"
  
  "Everyone says that, but I know there's more to it. It's called a worldbreaker for a reason."
  
  The box in the corner rattled. Lilia started. Caisa peered at it. "What's that?"
  
  "Nothing," Lilia said.
  
  "Perhaps you could talk to the Catoris," Caisa said. "I do think there's an opportunity here, before all the satellites enter the sky, to alter our position."
  
  "I agree with you," Lilia said, "but it was difficult enough to get buy-in for an upcoming strike. And with Catori Mohrai dead… Catori Meyna is moving us in another direction."
  
  Caisa cocked her head. "Li, when has anyone ever moved you in a direction you did not want to go in?"
  
  "I'll speak to them," Lilia said, "after this offensive. We'll have a better idea then of how much the Tai Mora are shaken by our offense."
  
  "I'll leave these here," Caisa said. "Oh, you should also know that I spotted tumbleterrors over the next rise. The funerary feast may be drawing them. I told one of your scouts who escorted me in, but I wanted to be sure you knew as well."
  
  "Thank you, Caisa. Stay a bit in the guest quarters. Mihina!"
  
  Mihina appeared quickly, as if she had been listening at the door. "Yes, Li?"
  
  "Could you take Caisa to the guest quarters? Ensure she has something to eat and drink."
  
  Mihina pressed thumb to forehead and gestured for Caisa to follow her.
  
  As they left, Namia signed at Lilia, "Change? Plan?"
  
  "No," Lilia said. "We don't know enough."
  
  "Hurt," Namia signed.
  
  "I know they hurt you," Lilia said. "They hurt me too. We'll get our revenge though, Namia. Very soon. Their encampment near Tira's Temple won't be protected during Tira's Festival, just as it was not last year. Whoever remains there for the festival, well. They will meet us."
  
  "Soon," Namia signed.
  
  "Yes, soon. Let's see if the feast is over." Lilia spared another look at the box, which remained still, then moved into the corridor.
  
  She heard the patter of footsteps on the bare ground. Tasia barrelled toward her from around a bend in the tunnel, as if someone had lit a fire behind her. She beamed like a bear with a snaplilly. Lilia had never seen her look so ecstatic. Tasia bolted past Harina and hurled herself into Lilia's arms, nearly knocking her off her feet.
  
  "What is it, love?" Lilia asked.
  
  "The Kai has returned!" Tasia crowed.
  
  Lilia had a moment of dissonance. "The… Kai? You mean the… Catoris? Meyna? Yisaoh?" Oma, Lilia thought, was Mohrai alive? With Oma in the sky and the world breaking apart, anything was possible.
  
  "No, no!" Tasia pushed away and began hopping up and down, clapping her hands. "The Kai is here! The real Kai!"
  
  A look of dread came over Harina's face. "No, no," she said, touching the white ribbon at her throat. "Tasia, you know Kai Ahkio is dead. Him, my cousins, nearly everyone at Oma's Temple–"
  
  "He isn't!" Tasia insisted, and Emlee came around the bend in the tunnel and Lilia saw the truth in Emlee's face.
  
  "Kai Ahkio is alive!" Tasia said. "We are saved now, Mother Lilia! Kai Ahkio has come to save us!"
  
  "Emlee?" Lilia asked.
  
  Emlee placed her hands on Tasia's head, to settle her so she didn't push Lilia over in her excitement. "There is indeed someone at the thorn fence," Emlee said, expression grave. "Someone who shares Kai Ahkio's face."