by Lani Forbes
Ahkin growled, wishing more than anything that his parents were still here to guide him down this dark and difficult path.
At least he would soon have a wife to stand beside him, so he would not have to trudge the path alone.
Chapter
15
“Just as the creator Ometeotl has both male and female aspects, the joining together of our emperor with a wife will ensure we are in cosmic balance with the gods.” The matchmaker addressed the banquet hall with impressive dramatic flair. “Through their children, we can ensure the blood of the sun god will continue to nourish the Seventh Sun for many more generations to come. I would now like to present the six noble daughters. Each has been sent to represent her city to bless the rule of our future Emperor Ahkin and ensure the well-being of the entire Chicome Empire.”
Mayana’s legs felt like heavy stone. Thankfully, Yemania’s sharp prod in the small of her back forced her forward. The crowd roared with excitement as the daughters filed in before them. The large room was surrounded by multihued pillars carved with glyphs depicting the gods. Hundreds of nobles and warriors seated on reed mats strained their necks to catch glimpses of the princesses as they walked up the cleared walkway. Mayana kept her head held high. They needed to see an elegant empress, not a terrified child.
Which one was the prince? Her eyes scanned the crowd of nobles lounging across the cushions and furs before a raised dais at the head of the room, but Prince Ahkin immediately caught her attention. He was the focal point of the entire gathering, seated on a golden bench with a tall backrest—sharp points of gold protruding from it like rays of the sun itself. Mayana would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit the first thing she noticed was the highly defined contours of his chest beneath the chestpiece. He leaned against the side of his gold throne, and her gaze raked along the strong sinews of his forearm, up to where his head leaned against his curled fingers. His eyes were dark chips of fire glass, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He looked almost troubled, as if his mind was somewhere else entirely.
Ahkin’s youth was evident—he counted perhaps only a year or two more than her own seventeen calendar cycles—but a shadow dusted his defined jawline. And his lips. Oh, his lips. Mayana wanted to touch them and see for herself whether they truly felt as soft and as full as they appeared. What a blessing it must be to come from a long line of emperors that selected the most beautiful wives.
The prince wore a golden headpiece with white feathers that contrasted sharply with his short dark hair. An emblem of the sun glittered from the striking golden chestpiece that dangled from his shoulders. Gold bangles etched with hieroglyphs encircled his taut biceps.
Was the light that seemed to radiate off him an invention of her mind? Or just a result of the amount of gold he wore? Were they sure he was a descendant and not an actual god himself?
“Lady Teniza of Millacatl. Descendant of the goddess Xilonen, who sacrificed herself to create the Fifth Sun and save us from famine.” Atanzah’s voice drew her out of her observations and back to the ceremony that was about to begin.
Teniza stepped away and entered the large open space in the center of the room that had been cleared for the demonstrations. Around the space sat hundreds of spectators, sprawled across the ground on cushions, mats, and low bench seats. The faces of the audience lit with excitement. A shiver of anticipation slid down Mayana’s spine at the prospect of seeing the power of so many gods displayed in one place.
A servant rushed forward with a large clay bowl filled to the brim with soil. Teniza withdrew a cactus spine and plunged it into the tip of her forefinger. Making a fist, she thrust her hand upward. In synchrony with the motion of her hand, a cornstalk broke through the surface of the soil and shot skyward, taller than the princess herself. She slowly opened her curled fist, and several ears of perfect, ready-to-harvest corn burst from the stalk. Mayana’s jaw dropped. Teniza strode forward to pluck them free and laid them at Ahkin’s feet.
“For you, my lord prince.” Her voice danced with mirth and playfulness. Mayana’s heart sank. How could she compete with such a demonstration?
Teniza of Millacatl gave a small bow, and he nodded in thanks, watching her take a seat on one of the pillows arranged near his throne. Coatl rushed toward her to heal her skin, his focus and dedication to his calling evident in the proud set of his shoulders. Mayana contemplated what he had said about his gift being able to sustain all others.
Yemania must have seen her brother too, because she let out an anguished whimper.
“Lady Yoli of Papatlaca. Daughter of Xiuhtecuhtli, who sacrificed himself to create the Fourth Sun and save us from an eruption of the Great Volcano.”
Yoli took a breath that rattled with impatience before strolling into the open. The shimmering black fabric of her dress caught the light of the sacrificial firepit in the floor and she glowed like a living ember. She lifted the shard of obsidian she had twirled between her fingers in the hallway, so long it resembled an arrow, and drove the tip into the flesh of her forearm.
Mayana gasped along with everyone else. Was she trying to prove she wasn’t afraid of pain? The dark ring through her lip showed that by itself. Her face remained cool and bored, as though spearing herself in the arm was a perfectly natural way to bring forth blood. Mayana shivered and instinctively grabbed her own forearm.
Blood oozed down Yoli’s wrist and dripped from her fingers as her face broke into a wide, haunting grin. Holding her arm above the flames of the pit, she made a bloody fist. The flames shot up and engulfed her hand. Mayana waited for Yoli’s flesh to char as black as her dress, but it didn’t. The fire covered her hand and she pulled it toward her lips. Yoli gave the prince a seductive smile and blew him a flaming kiss. The tongue of fire that had followed her breath dissipated into the air.
The crowd cooed in delight.
Mayana jerked her gaze away from the fire princess and toward the golden throne. The prince shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. His eyes darted to the side as if he was afraid to look at the princess on display right in front of him. Atanzah looked as though she were suppressing a laugh.
Coatl healed her arm and Yoli took her seat on one of the empty cushions surrounding the throne.
“Princess Zorrah of Ocelotl, descendant of Tezcatlipoca, who sacrificed himself to save us from wild beasts and create our Third Sun.”
The naguals in the room straightened at the mention of her name, eyeing their princess. Zorrah bared her teeth. Mayana thought it was supposed to be a smile, but to her it looked more like a growl. Zorrah was almost completely naked except for the tiny shreds of jaguar pelts woven together across her chest. A matching loincloth barely covered her backside, and Mayana blushed on her behalf. Thank the gods her aunts hadn’t tried to dress her like that. She was sure she would have exploded every fountain in her father’s temple if they had tried.
Zorrah prowled to the center of the room, her long ponytail swinging behind her like the tail of a beast on the hunt. She removed a wooden dagger inlaid with shark teeth from her … actually, Mayana had no idea where she had been concealing it. So much of her skin was bared, there weren’t many places left to hide a weapon of any kind. Zorrah ran her finger across one of the sharp white edges.
The crowd’s eyes focused on the doorway behind Mayana, so she followed their stares. She had to restrain herself from jumping back. A servant led a large black jaguar into the room and Zorrah held out a welcoming hand toward it. Something about the beast seemed familiar …
As it padded its way past the remaining princesses, it locked its golden eyes on Mayana and skittered back several steps. Zorrah made an impatient sound and gestured again for the cat to come to her. Mayana pressed her mouth into a thin line and slowly met Zorrah’s eyes, righteous indignation burning through her as if she had swallowed an entire bowl of pulque. It was the same jaguar from the jungle. Their meeting had not been an accident.
Zorrah met her gaze with equal ferocity and did not blink. She showed her teeth again in a vicious smile, as if to say, What are you going to do about it, daughter of water?
Mayana breathed heavily through her nose and clenched her hands into fists, but Zorrah turned to face the prince, the jaguar now waiting obediently at her side.
Zorrah nudged the cat toward the firepit with her foot, and the beast walked slowly, purposefully, toward the hot coals. Mayana’s fists relaxed in shock, momentarily forgetting her rage. What was Zorrah going to have the beast do?
Yemania sucked in her breath as the realization hit Mayana. No. Zorrah wouldn’t have it walk into the fire, would she? What would that prove? With a sickened feeling in her stomach, Mayana answered her own question. It would prove her ability to control the animal to the point that she could make it torture itself.
Mayana stiffened, her eyes darting frantically around the room. Someone had to stop her. The faces of the crowd did not look sickened. On the contrary, they learned forward with greedy, expectant expressions.
Its paws were inches from the edge. Mayana’s heart twisted in on itself. Yemania grabbed her arm and her nails dug into Mayana’s skin. She didn’t think Yemania would be upset for the same reason. Perhaps this was reminding Yemania how she was going to be sacrificed like this beast.
It placed its first paw into the coals and pulled back, but Zorrah growled and thrust a red-stained finger toward the pit. The beast slowly lowered its front paw back into the flames.
“Stop!”
The scream ripped through Mayana’s throat before she could call it back.
The silence in the room was thicker than the air on the most humid day of summer. The jaguar’s paw still remained in the fire, its yellow eyes contracting in pain.
Mayana yanked her dagger from the cuff around her ankle and sliced deep into her palm. She had never drawn so much blood within so few days in her life. She sensed the water placed along the walls in clay jugs and she summoned it toward her.
All of it.
Part 2
Chapter
16
Mayana threw her hand out in front of her, clenching it into a fist. Silver streams of water rushed from every corner of the room, meeting over the sacrificial fire and condensing into a giant, crystal-clear mass. She opened her hand.
The water crashed over the pit in a great wave, extinguishing every ember that burned within it. Steam and smoke filled the room in a great hiss while the audience sputtered and coughed it out of their lungs. The smell of burnt flesh and wood overwhelmed Mayana’s nose.
Without any warning, a gust of wind rushed through the room and carried the suffocating clouds out the nearest window. Mayana looked around, confusion clouding her thoughts worse than the smoke. The tiny princess from Ehecatl stood beside her, a bloody gash on her outstretched palm.
“You idiot,” she hissed at Mayana. “What were you thinking?”
Surprisingly, she didn’t look angry. Instead, her eyes were wide with fear and she spoke so low that only Mayana could hear her.
As the shock wore off, every eye in the room fixed on Mayana. Some were wide with awe, others narrowed in indignation. Several naguals had actually leapt to their feet, nostrils flaring with anger. If she thought her heart had been pounding before, it was nothing to how it hammered now. Had she offended the prince? Had she just sentenced herself to death for the sake of a beast that had almost killed her?
Zorrah’s flashing eyes betrayed her desire to tear Mayana to shreds faster than a wolf devouring a deer. Mayana’s eyes searched for Prince Ahkin’s. His response alone would tell her what to expect.
Ahkin was already on his feet. His shrewd, calculating expression now focused on her. He frowned slightly, as though he could not decide what to make of her. The matchmaker’s eyes were also narrowed in suspicion.
She was dead. So very, very dead.
“Is there a reason you interrupted the ceremony?” His voice rang with an authority worthy of his position. Mayana didn’t sense any anger in his question … not yet, anyway.
She couldn’t make her mouth move. Her body froze in place. The prince cocked his head slightly to the side, waiting for her answer. His dark eyes bored into her own, but her thoughts were as disjointed as a flock of frightened birds.
An idea burst through her consciousness as she thought of birds. Birds. It was the month of the bird …
Yemania nudged her slightly forward. For the second time, the touch gave her courage. Mayana shook her shoulders and raised herself to her full height. She still wasn’t as tall as Teniza the tree, but she met the prince’s gaze with blazing determination.
“My lord.” Mayana swept out her arms and dipped her head in a bow, forcing her voice to remain steady. “It is the month of the bird. I did not wish to insult the Mother goddess. The sacrifice of a jaguar should be saved for the month of the jaguar, lest we bring ill fortune upon us all.”
Prince Ahkin’s eyebrows shot up beneath the rim of his headpiece. Clicking her tongue impatiently, Zorrah rolled her eyes and turned her head.
Out of the corner of her eye, Mayana saw the tiny wind princess give a half smile.
The prince and Mayana held each other’s gazes for the length of an eternity. Please, Ometeotl, let him believe me.
He dipped his chin, continuing to appraise her with his dark eyes, until finally, finally, an exasperated smile crossed his face.
“Th-thank you.” He cleared his throat. “The codex does not stipulate regarding animals sacrificed for events other than meals, but thank you for caring to observe the calendar rituals with such”—he paused, obviously searching for the right word—“devotion.”
Mayana’s heart skipped a beat, filling with gratitude at his graciousness.
Ahkin did seem to be a merciful ruler—that much was clear. A sudden rush of affection toward him flowed through her. The feeling scared her as much as it thrilled her. She was supposed to make him want her, not the other way around.
“Since you are standing anyway, daughter of Atl, why don’t you show us your power? I think you’ve already proven you are indeed a daughter of Atlacoya, but I’m sure you had something else planned.” Ahkin settled himself back into the throne, crossing his ankle up onto his knee and thrumming his fingers against the armrests.
“I—um—alright …” Mayana absently wiped her sweating hands onto her skirt as a servant rushed forward with a small bowl of water and placed it on the floor.
It held only several handfuls of water, probably much less than what the crowd would expect for her to use to demonstrate the impressiveness of her divine abilities.
Zorrah’s lip curled.
Ahkin’s attention was devoted entirely to her. She had to impress him.
“Actually, your highness”—Mayana inclined her head—“I was wondering if you could assist me with my demonstration.”
He cocked an eyebrow, but his mouth curved into an amused smile.
“How may I be of assistance?”
Mayana held up a finger, silently asking him to wait while she prepared.
Her hand was still bleeding, so there was no need to bring forth more blood. Mayana held her stinging palm over the bowl and the water rose, forming a small orb. She willed it up past her hand until it glittered high above her head. Taking another steadying breath, she hoped with every fiber of her being that her plan would work.
Ahkin’s eyes studied her with an intense curiosity.
Mayana focused all of her energy into blasting the orb apart. The particles of water separated from each other until a cloud of fine mist hovered above her. She lowered her eyes from her creation, relief spreading through her and extinguishing the fear as effectively as she had extinguished the fire.
“My lord.” She smiled, bringing her attention back to the prince. He leaned forward on hi
s throne, his attention devoted to her. “Would you be so kind as to direct a beam of sunlight through the mist?”
He paused for the briefest moment before removing a dagger from the belt around his waist. He pierced his thumb and waved his hand toward the nearest window, where rich morning sunlight poured into the room. The beam of light followed the movement of his hand and shot directly through the center of Mayana’s mist.
The water particles bent the light into a thousand tiny rainbows that sparkled against every wall of the banquet hall. They bounced off the delighted faces of the audience, who reached up to touch the little bursts of color splattered across their faces and chests.
Mayana twirled her finger and the cloud of mist spun, making the tiny rainbows dance. She smiled at the memories of sitting behind the temple waterfalls back home, watching the colors refracted onto the cold gray stone. Ahkin’s expression was as filled with awe as the spectators’.
“When water and light are joined together, it creates something beautiful,” she said finally. Ahkin’s eyes locked with hers again, something fierce and hopeful burning within them like lit coals. Even Atanzah glanced between them, her expression curious.
Mayana bowed deeply and dissipated the mist. The crowd groaned as the colors vanished, and the look of pure hatred etched upon Zorrah’s face told her she had accomplished exactly what she had hoped. Pride burned across every inch of her skin, making her feel like a true descendant of a goddess.
But the look of heartbreaking misery upon Yemania’s face plucked the joy from her heart faster than a feather carried off by the wind.
Chapter
17
Mayana chose a cushion as far from Zorrah as she could get. “Well done, little mouse,” Coatl’s voice purred into Mayana’s ear the moment she was settled. He reached for her hand and she pulled it out of his reach.