‘Do you ever wonder,’ Ooi whispered, later that night, once most of the harpies and their witch captives lay sleeping, ‘why is it that we don’t stop them, only judge them for their past crimes?’ She was speaking 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 keenest hearing, a lingering benefit of her owl heritage. She hadn’t been able to fall asleep, had been restless 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 one interested in repentance, or anything so forgiving. 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 come to my lake, 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 innocent. They have a caste, those that are innocent are decided at birth to be so, they don’t eat meat, even the ceremonial blood skips their hands. They are the sacrifices, the ones that 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 lake. 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 neither bird spoke again, and eventually she sunk into restless slumber. She dreamed of her fallen sisters. Imita with sad eyes, whispering she couldn’t find her son, Viline trying 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 next harpy on watch. Her eyes met Ooi’s as the woman settled 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 relationship that wasn’t full of spite. She had never quite understood the other bird’s dislike for her. ‘I saw you, back then, in front of the witchgod,’ Ooi whispered. She paused, gathering her thoughts, ‘I resented you, you know,’ she cleared her throat, ‘I wasn’t like you, born to hunt, I mean. Resplendent quetzals are mostly fruit eaters, though smaller animals and insects are not uncommon. 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 overcome so much and didn’t get the same recognition. 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 done that.’ 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 glad it wasn’t you.’


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    ‘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 expecting. ‘I think our goddess might have, well,’ she faltered, unsure how to put the scope of the visions into words. ‘You know the story of the last eruption, how everything around Nemia’s volcano 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, wondering if Ooi would understand the implications, the significance of such a thing. The blasphemy of thinking such a thought, let alone putting 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 knew there was something wrong with our directives, it’s such a strange thing, 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 watching the witches now, but neither seemed to notice. Ooi continued, 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 confidence. 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 violent death of the last witch she had given over to Nemia, and nodded.


    ‘What are we going to do?’ Ooi whispered. ‘What can 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 condemn her without knowing the truth.’