“The day you disappeared on him,” he says flatly. “We wondered where you went.”
“I was trying to convince her to relinquish the throne. To let Tamaya rule Inkasisa. She refused, and I made my choice tonight when I told you the location of the Estrella. That’s the truth, Rumi.”
His face darkens. “Why should I believe you?”
My heart hammers wildly. I’m unable to speak, my feelings too raw for words. His blade hurts against my skin and he’s asking me to risk my heart further when there’s a risk he’ll only destroy it. My revelation may not be enough to save what’s between us.
“Give me proof,” he says, almost, almost pleading. “Give me one infallible reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand.”
A flutter dances in my ribs. His nostrils flare, a dark storm thundering on his brow.
My gaze locks with his. “I’ve lied to you, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ve come to care about the people you hold dear. I’m rooting for everyone I met tonight, and I’ll fight alongside you all. You say you want proof? I don’t have anything concrete to offer, but know this: If I were lying, I wouldn’t have told you my secret. If I were lying, I would never have sat down at the same table as the man who tortured me and murdered my friend if I didn’t believe in your fight.”
The blade’s pressure lessens. “This is a mistake.”
The words don’t sound like they’re for me, but a response to the internal conversation he seems to be having with himself.
“Rumi.”
His sword clatters to the stone. “Go back to the castillo, Illustrian.”
I ought to feel relief. He’s letting me live. I should get out of his sight before he changes his mind. But I stand rooted to the spot, the wall supporting me. His decision stems from how much he cares about me, and I imagine this is how far he’ll let himself go. He is loyal to his people, the princesa, the cause. Nothing more will exist between us, but he’ll let me go, he’ll give me this much.
It’s not enough.
I don’t look at him as I bend to pick up his blade. Wordlessly, I hand it to him. He takes the handle, careful not to touch me. My heart stutters and cracks. I walk away, heading for the cobbled road that will take me back to my cage.
“Ximena,” he calls softly.
I stop, but I don’t turn around. My name on his lips makes the hair on my arms rise. A hundred guesses traverse my mind, surrounding what I hope he’ll say next. That he’ll escort me back to the castillo. That he’s willing to trust me. That he believes me when I say that I’m on their side. I think all those things in the seconds between his next words.
“Don’t make me regret it.”
CAPÍTULO
The next day passes in a blur. Suyana seems to notice my restlessness because she sends me outside, confident the fresh air will do wonders for my nerves before the wedding celebrations. I leave her in the room as she tidies; it’s a mess of finished tapestries and bundles of wool and discarded projects. The disorder should bother me, but I’m unable to focus on anything other than what’s to come.
Carnaval. Catalina leading Illustrians to battle. Rumi destroying the Estrella. Saving Tamaya before she’s executed. There are too many components in the plan, too many ways it can lurch sideways. It’s enough to make living in a mess bearable.
Juan Carlos escorts me to my favorite bench in the gardens, where we’re tucked away from everyone else. It’s hot and sweat drips down my back and curls at my temples, dampening my hair. I scan the area, looking for Rumi, but I know I won’t find him. He can’t trust himself around me. I drop my head into my hands. I knew our friendship would end up here, but that doesn’t lessen the hurt.
He kept his identity a secret too. I stubbornly cling to that truth because I’d rather feel anger than pain. He lied to me. He can’t be mad at me for doing the same. But a niggling doubt pecks at me like an annoying, hungry chicken. Up until last night, I was going to give his name to the priest. I had good reason, but it’s a betrayal nevertheless.
I can only hope that when Rumi finds the Estrella, he’ll trust me again. I lift my head and push my hair back from my face, and as I do, I catch sight of the person I don’t want to see at all. I stiffen as Umaq crosses the garden courtyard, heading to his quarters.
“Who is he really?” I ask.
Juan Carlos glances at the priest. “A Lowlander. He’s actually a priest—that’s not fake. Atoc is a fanatic when it comes to rituals and traditions. Umaq’s blood magic is pretty rare, and his installation in the castillo was easy.” He looks over at me. “We have no delusions about Umaq. He yearns for money and chases the obscurest legends in search of it. His motives have always been for the advancement of his people, but for now they align with ours.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“He hates Atoc as much as we do.”
The priest disappears into the castillo, and I can’t help shuddering. “Still.”
Juan Carlos plucks one of the eucalyptus leaves and inhales.
“Will he go?” I don’t need to clarify the question. He knows I’m asking about Rumi and his possible trip to Lago Yaku.
“He leaves tonight.”
I exhale in relief. He’s decided to go after all. “Will you go with him?”
He shakes his head ruefully. “He wants me here. I fought him, but he insisted.”
Warmth takes root in my heart and blooms. In order to keep me safe. But my next thought is dampening. Rumi might have his cousin watching me in case I move against Tamaya. I lean back, using my hands to angle my body up toward the sun. “I’m not going to betray him again.”
“I believe you,” he says.
I snap my head in his direction. “You do? Why?”
“People are people.” He shrugs. “We mess up. You took the chance to make it right, and that’s all we can really ask of anyone. My cousin doesn’t trust a lot of people, and he shouldn’t. He can’t afford to—not with so much at stake. His life, our princesa’s, and mine. He carries our people’s hopes on his shoulders. What you’ve done threatens that.”
I think again about how close I was to betraying him last night. Obviously, the priest wouldn’t have turned him over to Atoc, or hurt the Illustrians at the keep. But I didn’t know that. I understand Rumi’s caution. It’s kept him alive all this time.
“Who knows? After finding the Estrella, he might come to your room and get down on his knees, begging your forgiveness.”
I let myself smile as we head back to the room at fifth bell. But Juan Carlos is wrong.
Rumi never comes.
The day of Carnaval arrives and I haven’t heard a word from Rumi. Juan Carlos is strangely missing, so I can’t ask him what’s happened. I don’t know whether the Estrella has been destroyed. I push aside the breakfast tray even though there’s enough dulce de leche to normally make my mouth water. My head hurts and my body feels stiff and heavy, as if I haven’t slept in days. But I’m not tired. Panic rises with every heartbeat.
Instead of eating, I’m sitting in a hot bath, rose petals floating in the water, my head tipped back and resting against the metal rim. Atoc has granted one of the grander suites for me to dress in. Voices belonging to several maids drift inside the small bathing chamber—chatter about my lovely dress, the headdress I’ll be wearing, and the fine leather sandals made especially for the wedding. There’s jewelry to be picked out, several hairstyles to try, and makeup to put on.
It’s all chains to keep me trapped.
I don’t know what the rebels’ plans are. Despite finding the Estrella, maybe Rumi has decided to leave me out of everything. Maybe he’s decided he still can’t trust me. That I’m too much of a risk. My nerves pick at me like carrion birds intent on their prey. And when the anger comes, I let myself feel it. He should include me. I deserve to know what’s happening.
I chose the princesa.
My fingers curl around the edge of the tub. I can’t wait another second. I have to see him if only so
I can yell at him for keeping me in the dark. Dripping wet, I climb out and wrap myself in a thick robe. I coil my hair into a tight knot, and the water sluices down my back.
I pick up the small bundle of moondust I snuck inside the room and carefully pour a palmful. It’s barely enough for all the waiting maids. They might be out for an hour at most. But I don’t need that much time.
I blow all of it in their faces.
They slump to the ground, all three of them. Including Suyana. I pull off one maid’s clothing and don her servant’s attire—a simple black pollera, cream tunic, and plain manta—and hustle out of the room, carrying a tray laden with warm loaves of bread and a heaping pot of coffee. I keep my head down, but I’m not noticed, as the whole castillo is nearly empty. Everyone is either dressing or off at the temple to prepare for the ceremony.
I have one destination in mind, and I don’t even know if he’ll be there. When I get to the infirmary, I don’t bother knocking. The room is barely lit and there’s a metallic scent in the air. I wrinkle my nose. Blood. I set the tray down on an empty stool with a heavy thud.
Rumi’s head jerks up. He shows surprise for a second, but his expression becomes as dangerous as the edge of a blade. After a long moment he returns his attention to what he’d been doing before I interrupted. A wobbly breath skitters through my lungs.
He’s sitting on the table, shirt off, dragging wet strips of linen across a gash on his right side, under his ribs. The wound bleeds into the fabric, blooming red. I’ve never seen him without his billowy tunic that smells of rotting leaves. He’s leaner and sharper than I ever imagined. Rivulets of water trickle down the planes of his stomach and the muscles that delineate them. He uses his teeth to cut another strip of fabric, barely wincing as he lays it on top of the gash.
“It’s too deep,” I manage. “You need stitches.”
“What are you doing here?” There’s no warmth in his voice. It’s empty and frightening. The candles cast flickering shadows across his face.
My gaze narrows. “There’s been no word.”
His expression barely shifts. A slight tightening of his mouth. When he glances back at me, he’s detached. Aloof. But I know when he’s angry—the taut muscles in his neck betray him.
The air between us is poisoned. Something terrible has happened. “Rumi.”
He stands, his shoulders pulled back and tense. “Where’s the Estrella, Condesa?” He barks out a laugh. “Or whoever you are.”
“I told you—the bottom of Lago Yaku.” My hands tremble. “Princesa Tamaya said it’d be there.”
His cold veneer shatters. “It wasn’t there! You lied to me and played me for a fool. Don’t try to deny it.” His nostrils flare. “What’s your plan now? Does the real Catalina have the Estrella? Is she planning an attack on La Ciudad? Gods, I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done. Hundreds of people will die because of you. I thought you wanted peace.”
“I do. How can you doubt that?”
“Because the Estrella wasn’t where you’d said it’d be!” he yells. “After the other night, it’s all become too clear. You’ve been spying on us, earning Tamaya’s trust—”
My temples are throbbing. “She said it’d be there.”
“How convenient,” he says sarcastically. “Since I can’t ask Tamaya because she’s already at the temple, awaiting her execution!”
I flinch. She can’t die. I can’t let that happen.
“Well?”
I swallow, trying to keep my temper under control. “I’m not going to defend myself again, Rumi.”
He steps toward me. “I trusted you!”
“I didn’t lie to you!” The poison in the air infects my veins until they run feverishly hot. “Trust me, don’t trust me. I don’t care!” My voice cracks. I’m lying again, and he knows it. “I don’t know why the Estrella wasn’t there, but anything could have happened to it. Maybe Atoc could have gotten there first … or—”
My vision hazes. Rumi’s outline becomes fuzzy. I’m not seeing him anymore; instead it’s my mess of a room as Suyana tidied it up. Making the bed. Clearing the floor of discarded wool. Tapestries put in order. There was one that was missing.
“Catalina might have it,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “I weaved a message with the location of the Estrella but decided not to send it. I haven’t seen the owl in my room for days.”
Rumi sags against the table and reaches out to the flat surface to steady himself. His face is slack and pale.
Madre de Luna. I’ve ruined them.
All of them.
I walk to him until I’m inches away. I force myself to keep my hands at my sides. He won’t want me to touch him. “I failed you. But I did not lie to you, Rumi.”
A muscle in his jaw clenches.
The infirmary door slams open, the sound ricocheting within the small room. Four guards rush inside. They grab ahold of my arms and yank me toward the door while Rumi calmly watches, perched as he is on the table, his face blank, blank, blank. I expect him to defend me as they haul me out of the room. I expect him to intervene when they yell at me for disappearing and knocking out the maids.
Rumi does none of these things.
I’m dragged away, and my last glimpse is of him putting another strip of fabric onto his bloody gash of a wound. He’s careful and competent and undisturbed. He doesn’t look in my direction. Not even once.
I’m thrown inside the pigskin-colored room, the door clanging shut. I scramble to search for the owl, flinging aside my other pieces until I’ve reached the end of the pile. My animals retreat from my mad movements, and I can’t blame them.
Only one of them approaches. The owl, which perches on my shoulder. Around its leg is a tied bundle. A rolled-up message meant for me.
My stomach pitches. I slowly untie the ribbon and unfurl the single sheet of paper.
Message Received.
I forgive you.
I slump to the floor and raise a shaking hand to my lips. Catalina thinks I’ve changed my mind. She thinks I’m back on her side, supporting her claim for the throne.
And she’s forgiven me.
I can understand Rumi’s rage. It looks bad. My thoughts rush at me like an angry flash fire clamoring for victims. I can’t drive the look in Rumi’s eyes from my mind. It was hatred, as startling and clear as the water in Lago Yaku. Shame claws up my throat. He thinks I’ve strung him along for my own gain. Played him like an instrument, hurting him as if he meant nothing to me.
Just a job. Part of my act.
But he’s wrong. And I have no way of proving it.
I’ve lost him. I’ve lost Tamaya the throne. I’ve lost the best chance for Inkasisa.
I pull my knees to my chest. This is how Suyana finds me. Curled up on my side, barely able to hold back the flood of tears intent on drowning me. At first she comes in looking annoyed, but her expression loses its hardness when she sees the state I’m in.
“Condesa,” she whispers. She shuts the door behind her and crouches in front of me. “What’s happened?”
Everything hurts—my chest, my arms, my legs. I want to scream until I can’t feel anything anymore, but the room doesn’t feel big enough. Panic climbs higher and higher, like a crashing wave threatening to swallow me whole. “I’ve ruined everything.”
Suyana grips my shoulders. “Condesa—”
“I’m not her!” I blurt out. “I’m her decoy. I’m her friend—I’m not even royal. I’m just a nobody.”
She stares at me with a look I can’t define. But it’s not surprise.
I’ve lost my mind. The entire story comes out in quick bursts. My mission, the search for the Estrella, the planned revolt, my betrayal of the real condesa, the messages in the tapestries. I want it all out.
“Who do you want on the throne?” Suyana asks, her fingers digging painfully into my shoulders. “Who?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “The princesa. It can’t be Catalina.”
“Do you
swear?”
I freeze. The sudden fierce gleam in her eye steals my breath. Madre de Luna. She is one of El Lobo’s hidden friends in the castillo. My personal maid.
“I’ve been stupid,” I say. “You’re his confidante.”
She considers me for a long moment. “I didn’t trust you, but then Rumi decided to count you in on our plans.”
“Not anymore,” I whisper. “And now Catalina has the Estrella.”
The door opens again and the other two maids I drugged come in, wearing their black polleras and tunics and eyeing me reproachfully. I wish I could care. Suyana has no choice but to help me dress for the wedding. I’m tucked and pinned into the dress. Something is done to my hair, still damp from the bath I’d taken a half hour earlier. The feathered crown is carefully placed on my head. Someone hands me a mirror, but I barely take a look. I’m numb as Suyana laces me into the new sandals. Numb as they swipe rouge on my lips. Numb while the two maids I don’t know offer perfunctory congratulations.
It’s only when Suyana reaches for my hand and squeezes it that I register what’s happening. The door is open, and guards fill the frame, ready to take me away.
I’ve run out of time.
CAPÍTULO
Atoc’s family and wedding guests are waiting for me in the front courtyard. At the head of the crowd, Atoc climbs onto his horse to lead the procession. The gates are already open, and the cobblestone road to La Ciudad lies ahead. Several guards loiter by the crowd, scanning the area. I startle when I recognize the dark hair and tall frame of my friend.
Juan Carlos.
He’s staring at me in contempt. He’s as stiff as a board when helping me onto the horse, touching me as little as possible, as if I were garbage. Everyone files into a line, and the entire procession of about one hundred people rides into the city, Juan Carlos on the left, within talking distance. His back is straight enough that I worry it might snap.
As we draw closer to the outer wall of La Ciudad, I’m painfully aware that it’s my fault Catalina will unleash ghosts on a rampage against all of these innocent witnesses to my sham of a wedding. Crowds gather on each side of the parade. Loud cheering blocks out the noise of the horses and carts carrying wedding guests.
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