The tribe gathered the next morning to see the visitors off and make final trades. Kindra stood, bleary-eyed, between Monk and Osprey, trying to stifle a yawn as Oak formally said goodbye. He and Coyote had no love between them from the stiff way Coyote replied. He turned to the High Priestess as she blessed his journey, and motioned one of his men to come forward when she finished.

“High Priestess, Chief Oak, and the people of the Seven Tribes of Aleda.” Coyote bowed and took the reins of a horse from his man. It was the smallest of the beasts, brown with a white mark on his forehead that bled down to the tip of his nose. It looked somewhat like a spear.

“On behalf of my men and in honor of your generosity, I gift to you this horse. He is the youngest of my herd—strong and beautiful. A true representation of Eoin.” Coyote bowed again. “He is yours.”

The crowd gasped and a hum of excited voices grew around Kindra. It was exactly what she’d hoped for all winter: a monster the Obsidians were terrified of. She had to figure out a way to use it against the Nation.

Neither Oak nor the High Priestess knew what to say, and finally Oak sputtered, “We can’t accept that creature.”

The High Priestess gazed at Kindra and her skin crawled. There was shrewdness in that look, and she knew the High Priestess was thinking of the vision.

Oak tried again. “We thank you, Coyote. This is a most blessed gift. But we have no place to keep this horse, and no Odion Warrior to accept it.”

All eyes turned to Kindra and her face burned. How dare he say such a thing with her standing right there, a horse emblazoned in beadwork across her heart?

Monk stepped forward. “Kindra could accept it.” A small smile played at the corner of his lips, as if he’d planned this and he was waiting for her to play her part.

Oak’s hot gaze turned from Monk to Kindra. “She’s not a warrior or a priestess. It doesn’t matter if the Odion’s blood runs through her veins, she cannot accept on his behalf.”

“You could reinstate her as a warrior,” Monk said as Kindra glared at him. He had a cunning smile on his face now, and while she appreciated his intentions, she did not want to become a fake warrior for one day to receive a present for the tribe.

Petoskey nodded. “She’s made the blood-bond with the tribe. She could accept the horse.”

Oak turned a murderous look on his second-in-command. “She’s not a warrior. She was not accepted by the God, and I will not reverse her well-deserved punishment for disobeying me. Coyote will return to his new tribe with his horse, and that will be the end of it.”

Kindra wanted to argue for the horse, but she didn’t want to be reminded, yet again, that her whipping ceremony was for nothing.

The High Priestess stepped forward and put a hand on Oak’s shoulder. “I believe the Gods have provided us with an answer to this stalemate.”

Oak looked at her, the lift of his head becoming cocky once again, but the High Priestess motioned Kindra forward. “Please, Kindra Odion. Remind us of your vision.”

Kindra took a deep breath. “It didn’t make sense.”

“Yesterday it didn’t make sense. Today it does. Please.”

Kindra stepped forward and glanced at the horse on her shirt. She would give anything to go back to yesterday morning and wear something else—even Kaye’s priestess dress. But the High Priestess had asked, and Kindra answered, retelling her vision. Just as before, when she finished there was a deep silence, and then the people around her started whispering.

Monk’s left hand shot into the air, fist clenched, and Kindra finally got a good look at the cuts under the bandage. It was the mark of Ian Odion. Her blood ran cold as she realized what he was doing.

“Blasphemy,” Oak said as he saw the tattoo.

“Not blasphemy,” Monk said, “a reminder. The Seven Tribes wouldn’t be here without the Odions. I promise to never forget that. I follow Ian Odion, and his descendants.” He stared at Kindra, and she glared back.

Why would he do such a thing? Oak would see this as her fault, and would punish her in whatever way he could. But before she could denounce Monk, Petoskey’s hand shot into the air, the same tattoo covering his wrist.

“I follow Ian Odion and his descendants. Kindra should get the horse.”

Cougar stepped forward, hand in the air, and then Alder. Wolf, Ocelot and Gull followed, then Pine and Kingfisher. Goosebumps rose on Kindra’s skin as wrist after wrist shot up around her and she began to feel the full gravity of what was happening. It wasn’t about the horse. This was a rebellion. The warriors of Fie Eoin were choosing her over their chief. Spitting in Oak's face with a forbidden mark.

Gar stepped forward, his wrist at eye-level. When he spoke his voice was soft, meant only for her. “I follow Kindra Odion, the last warrior of Ian’s line. To the ends of Aleda. Forever.”

Something squeezed her heart, crushing her chest with an invisible weight that she didn’t know how to remove. Gar hadn’t spoken to her since she punched him, but this is what he had been hiding. Rebellion.

Coyote bowed to her, rope in his upturned hands. On his left wrist was the mark, so new it still seeped blood. She couldn’t breathe.

“If you take that horse, we are at war,” Osprey whispered. She had forgotten he was next to her.

Kindra looked from the wrists around her to Oak and took a deep breath. His jaw was set, his eyes dared her to defy him once again. They needed the horse, but he couldn’t accept it. She grabbed the rope.

“Kindra Odion, you will not defy me.” Oak stepped forward, but the horse reared, kicking at him. Everyone took a step back except Coyote and the High Priestess. Kindra almost lost her hold on the rope, but she tugged and the horse dropped to its feet, ears pinned back and nostrils flaring.

“That thing’s a monster!” Oak yelled.

“A monster is exactly what we need to defeat the Obsidians.” Kindra stared at the beast; she had no idea how to use it against the Nation, but she’d find a way. “You said yourself they feared horses. Now we have a horse.”

Oak’s face burned red and his hand gripped the hilt of his sword. “One horse against the whole of the Obsidian Nation? You’ll get us all killed, just like your father. We need peace.”

“The peace that stole my sister? The peace that murdered my mother? Your peace didn’t work!” Kindra yelled loud enough for everyone gathered to hear. “The tribes starve while the Obsidians prepare to attack us in the spring. We need to strike first!”

“I will not be told how to fight by a girl, and I will not follow a failed warrior into battle!”

Kindra’s fingers tightened around the rope for want of a real weapon, but before she could do any more, Monk crossed the chasm the horse had created by lashing out. “I will.” The horse tried to bite him, but Kindra tugged the rope and it missed. The men with the forbidden tattoos on their wrists joined him, while the others crowded behind Oak.

“You will tear this tribe apart,” Oak hissed as the horse tried to rear again.

“Kaye ran from Fie Obsid.” Kindra wound the rope around her arm so the horse couldn’t move. “The Obsidians will attack us.”

“They won’t,” Oak urged, trying to bring her warriors back to his side. “We’ll give them what they want, and they will leave us be.”

“Coward!” Gull yelled.

“We don’t have what they want. Kaye’s gone, and you cannot give them the High Priestess.”

A smile crawled across Oak’s face. “It’s not my sister they want now.”

Kindra looked from him to the High Priestess, who stood between the two groups, a look of shocked betrayal on her face too like Kaye’s the morning the Obsidians arrived. The High Priestess had told her brother about Obsid’s new deal—and instead of preparing for war, Oak was preparing to hand over the last Odion in the Seven Tribes.

All eyes of the tribe were on Kindra now, but she didn’t raise her voice. She spoke low, so only Oak and those nearest could hear. “I would rather fight and die.”

“It’s not your choice.”

She looked at the men surrounding her, a little over half the warriors. “I think it is.”

Petoskey stepped between them. “This is over. Get her to her tent—I want two guards at all times. Coyote, help us with the horse.”

As Monk grabbed her shoulders and steered Kindra to her tent, she glared at Oak. He planned to sell her to Chief Obsid.

He may have already sold her.