One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 11, page 6

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Vata Kılímí paused at the thudding of a helicopter. Maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to sneak outside and retrieve an iguana for the sacrifice without being spotted, but she figured she had a better chance of keeping the goddess Rana away from her endless stream of lovers. Helicopters had bright searchlights and an amazing field of view. Even if all the foot police happened to be looking some other direction, the helicopter crew would see all.

Névazhíno, what now? Should I sacrifice the horse, after all?

Through her link to her husband, Vata could sense his desperation growing. His situation was getting worse, perhaps so bad that he wouldn’t be able to handle it alone.

Vata’s brain buzzed with the spirit of the God of Animals, crescendoing fluctuations as Névazhíno’s patience wore even thinner.

A group of people ran through the house, their thumping feet resounding quietly in the sound-proofed chapel.

“It’s the police!” hissed the blonde girl from beside the altar, glancing around the room like a rabbit searching for some rock to hide under. Fírí obviously knew she was just as guilty in this whole affair as her loud-mouthed ex-boyfriend.

Her head swimming, Vata took two short steps toward the horse and the altar, but paused. Iguana? Horse? Help Pí‘oro? She had to start the ceremony before Névazhíno reached the end of His patience. She’d never waited this long before and had no idea if He would just leave or if He’d destroy the chapel and maybe the entire town of Tuhanı with his wrath.

The backyard animals were settling down, finally quieting their din inside Vata’s head. Maybe the police had abandoned the yard altogether--except for the helicopter, of course.

Which meant the police were in the house, just like Fírí said.

Shouting in the hallway. Pí‘oro’s fear and anger spiked, nearly knocking Vata off her feet.

She stabilized herself with one hand on a brazier’s iron post. She had to help Pí‘oro. He’d never been so upset in his life. Something terrible had to be happening. Vata didn’t know how she could be of assistance, but she knew deep in her heart that she had to try.

She let go of the post and shuffled as fast as she could toward the interior door.

“O Névazhíno, please forgive me. I’m sorry I called you, but this recipient can wait. I must help my husband.”

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