‘It blooms three times, see here, how this bottom flower is different from the one starting to bloom at the top? And each flower is different, even though they are on the same plant. We call it the koltre. The three different flowers represent the body, the mind, and the soul. And when all three are present and in bloom on the same plant, they are in harmony.’ The youngest witch, Nevin, Objo had learned, was showing Ooi one of the plants native to the witches home. It was quite beautiful, a long grass with a three colored stalk, red, purple, and a soft gold. The one blossom in full bloom had five petals, with a protruding stigma surrounded by several stamens. The other blossom, though not yet fully bloomed was a compound flower, with multiple florets. The color was not yet clearly showing through the encasement, but it hinted at a deep red, different from the pale purple of the first.


    The shorter witch, who had begrudgingly shared her name to be Temero, was watching the two, ‘it’s a sacred plant, it shouldn’t be shared with the birds,’ she grumbled. The taller woman, Jin, interjected, ‘let them be.’ Temero shot her a short glare, returning to the berries Ooi had given her for breakfast. Nevin, the young witch, had not forgone this meal, and the remnants of the berries'' juices stained her hands. Objo stared at them for too long, remembering the stains of a different red on the witch vessel’s hands.


    Though Ooi’s words had soothed her last night, they did not altogether diminish the guilt and confusion she felt about her confrontation with Zsa Zsa. The witchgod had let her live for a reason, and she was terrified to find out what it was. She hadn’t shared the goddess’ parting words, they were too raw, and she feared the other harpy’s reaction to knowing she may bear a cursed blessing. The young witch tucked the flower in Temero’s braids, despite the short woman’s protests. ‘A little bit of home for you,’ she said.


    They made good progress that day, though it was still much slower than their journey to the witches’ celebration. But with Vaara’s slit stomach and Iloin’s broken leg the going was slow. They had constructed two litters for the injured harpies, and the other sisters took turns pulling them. Vaara was stoic, for the most part, but Iloin’s cries whenever jostled hurt to hear.


    They had taken a midday break for a meal, Objo and Hrae capturing small desert prey for the group. Objo was wary of the older woman now. She had not given much thought to the older woman’s dedication to their divine mandate, but Ooi’s comments had her reflecting back on her previous interactions with the king vulture harpy. She knew relatively little about her, just that she was Atzi’s lover and a competent hunter. The older harpy was mysterious, her quicksilver eyes often indecipherable. She kept to herself and Atzi, even during their bacchanalia, often retreating early to her nest.


    Objo sighed, turning the skewered lizard over to cook the otherside. She had considered bringing up the visions Zsa Zsa had pushed into her mind with Hrae, but something held her back. What would happen if Hrae recognized the reservations Objo was having about their goddess? She wanted to talk about it, though. Her feelings about the visions changed from moment to moment, she wanted reassurance that their goddess would never commit such a crime, she wanted to tell everyone so they could see Nemia’s hypocrisy, she wanted simply not to have a secret.


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    Perhaps she should start with Vaara. Vaara had definitely seen the visions, had screamed her displeasure to the witchgod’s face. She had seemed so confident that they were lies, maybe she had seen something Objo hadn’t. Objo stood, charred lizard in hand, walking over to the incapacitated harpy and offering her the stick. Vaara grimaced at the burnt creature, but accepted the skewer, careful not to jostle her wound from where she lay on her makeshift litter. Her blue skin was pale and clammy, but she was awake and alert. ‘Couldn’t find me something a little more appetizing, huh?’ she joked. She had been doing that a lot during their journey back, using humor to deflect from her condition, which was steadily getting worse. Any injuries were usually dressed by Leiden, but with her among the fallen Asil had been attending to Vaara and Iloin. Objo had seen Asil carefully cleaned and stitched the wound, her hands shaking. Vaara had been stoic as the violet-backed starling worked in the stiches, but Iloin had shrieked horribly when Asil had set the bone of her leg.


    ‘I can get you some fruit if you’d prefer, it doesn''t require any cooking, so there is no room for me to make a mess of it,’ Objo tried to match her levity. Vaara bit into the meat, ‘it’s alright, I like lizards. Even these strange sand ones, they are kind of earthy.’ Objo hummed neutrally. It was good she still had an appetite.


    She wasn’t quite sure if it was a good idea to raise the visions with Vaara, the other harpy was recovering, and she didn’t want to cause her undue stress, but she was desperate to talk about them with someone who had seen what she had seen. And she was too intimidated to approach Hrae.


    ‘I, I wanted to apologize,’ she started, ‘I should have been there during Zsa Zsa’s attack. You should never have had to take the full brunt of it. I’m sorry, it’s my fault you were hurt.’ Vaara cocked her head, golden eyes sharp, ‘the fault for my injury is on the witchgod, not you. Yes, you should have been there, but she was the one who cut me. Though,’ her eyes turning back to her meal, ‘I do understand your distraction. Her visions were designed to make us falter.’


    Objo leaned forward, ‘you don’t believe them, then?’ Vaara looked startled, ‘they were intended to distract us and shake our faith in Lady Nemia, of course they were false.’ ‘But the purge! They align with,’ Vaara cut her off, ‘they were from the witchgod,’ she said firmly, ‘and all witches are reprehensible. Don’t let her lies shake you.’ She sighed, looking at the distant horizon, back the way they had come, ‘the witchgod, she’ll tell you anything to coax you. Promise you anything you’d like, if you bow at her altar.’ Objo paused, ‘did, did she promise you something? While you were fighting?’ Vaara shook her head, ‘not exactly, I just understand, well, I understand what it’s like to want more. When I built this body, I built it stronger, faster, but I still built what I knew. Sometimes, I see you, and the other flighted birds, and I wish,’ she trailed off. ‘I’m not like Bia, I know restraint when it comes to the buoyant drink, but sometimes I wish I was like her, that I could let myself indulge. I’m sorry, but I need to rest now, I’m so, so tired.’ Objo stayed a moment longer, helping her settle, if she was tired enough that her humor was gone, she must be worsening. It would be unkind to push her further about the visions.