Mr. Quinn’s relief was as vivid through the connection as if she could see him. Thank God. We all believed the worst. Not knowing what had happened to you…I have Spoken to you every hour since I learned you were missing, hoping to hear your Voice. Where are you?
I am in Peru—oh, there is so much to tell, and there is no time, I am running to save the Incas from Spanish soldiers. I must Speak to my parents, and—I do not suppose you know who has been searching for me?
Sophia Rutledge has been directing a number of Seers, including your brother. That is the extent of what I know.
I do not know her to Speak to her. Bess waved off Amaya, who had run past her and was now returning. I will ask Mrs. Kearsley; she will know more. I apologize, I want so badly to Speak with you, but my parents—
Do not apologize. It is enough to know you are not dead. The Seers’ assurances that you live were surprisingly not reassuring.
I must go—but I promise I will tell all this evening at our usual time.
Mr. Quinn laughed, and the sound sent Bess’s heart beating faster. I will hold you to that.
Bess reluctantly ended their connection and rose to face Amaya. “I Spoke again,” she said. “They drugged me…oh, I do not know the word. Es no importante.” She pointed eastward, and Amaya, with a somewhat skeptical expression, took off running again.
Bess composed herself and Spoke again, this time to her parents’ housekeeper: Mrs. Kearsley, can you hear me? It was an odd question, since she could tell when she had made a connection, but being silenced for so many days had left Bess tender of her talent and a little uncertain. It had felt like being cocooned in cold, dank wool, unable to breathe freely and deaf as well.
Immediately Mrs. Kearsley’s reply rang through Bess. My dear, my dear, where are you? Where have you been? Your silence has been so distressing, I would have believed you dead had the Seers not assured us otherwise. Did you Speak to your father yet?
I was afraid of causing his heart to burst in surprise. Will you relay my messages, and tell him I will Speak to him directly later?
Of course. Mrs. Kearsley’s Voice had the same no-nonsense quality Bess had always admired, and it heartened her. Where are you?
Peru. I was kidnapped by the viceroy’s secretary, though I am certain the viceroy was behind it. Do you know if Clarissa Emrey is involved in the search for me?
I don’t think so. The fighting is very fierce in France. Young Mr. Hanley has been working with Mrs. Rutledge and a number of other Seers.
Bess smiled. Charles would always be young Mr. Hanley to Mrs. Kearsley, despite his being more than thirty years old and about to become a father. You will need to relay my messages then, though I am not certain whether this is a matter for the government. At that moment, she stumbled, and had to catch herself. She had been running nearly blind as she Spoke, barely conscious of the landscape and the rough ground beneath her feet. Amaya was looking back at her, puzzled, and Bess discovered she had slowed her pace. She sped up, catching Amaya in a few strides, and told Mrs. Kearsley, This may be long, and I am running as I Speak, so be patient.
She told Mrs. Kearsley everything that had happened from the night she was kidnapped from the Ormerods’ ball, glossing over Amaya’s identity—that seemed likely to spawn an irrelevant aside—and ending with, So you see, we must reach the Inca city before the Spanish do, and convince them to send their noncombatants to safety.
That is an extraordinary story, my dear, Mrs. Kearsley said. You will not try to stop the bloodshed?
I do not see how we can. Señor Mendoza is intent on gaining that gold, and he is unlikely to be diverted from that goal. And Uturunku is bloodthirsty and just as intent on destroying the Spanish. So this is the best I can hope for.
It is truly marvelous that you are halfway around the world, hurrying to intervene in a war.
Bess smiled. You are not frightened for me?
You are brave and clever. I fear for your safety, but I cannot imagine urging you not to follow your conscience, however dangerous that path might be.
You are a marvel, Mrs. Kearsley.
I am nothing special, dear. And now I must Speak to others. Give me half an hour to explain things to your father, and then you should Speak to him. I will tell you as soon as I have more news.
The connection ended, and Bess blinked. She reached out to her reticulum, not trying to Speak to anyone, just feeling the presence of those Voices, the potential the net of sparks represented. She had felt suffocated for so long, it was as if she had emerged from a dank, lightless cave into a bright spring morning. She felt as if she might leap from these peaks and float to the ground.
They ran, with Bess Speaking now and then to her overjoyed friends, until the western mountains were dusty grey and the sky to the east was black, turning the mountains in that direction invisible. Amaya found them a partial shelter beside a boulder taller than Bess that kept off the rising wind, then said, “Food,” and darted away. Bess lowered herself to sit on the ground and leaned back against the boulder, which was still warm from the last of the sunlight. She closed her eyes and let her breathing return to normal. Her feet ached, but did not appear bruised. In all, she felt remarkably well.
I would never have believed myself capable of everything I have done in the past few weeks, she told Mr. Quinn without preamble.
She felt his surprise, but heard nothing for a minute or two, during which the connection between them trembled, echoing Bess’s pleasure at Speaking to him again. Finally, Mr. Quinn said, And what miracles have you performed lately?
She sighed. Oh…I have ridden a donkey, and eaten salt pork that was not at all disgusting, and run across Peru’s mountains, and now I intend to prevent a slaughter. I had not thought I might do anything exciting after leaving the War Office, so the idea that I might accomplish all this is rather surprising.
I consider you the most remarkable woman of my acquaintance, and I am never surprised at what you are able to accomplish. But…what slaughter?
She told him her story in considerably more detail than she had Mrs. Kearsley, since he was privy to almost all her secrets. You see it is essential that we reach the city before Señor Mendoza does, she finally said, because I cannot bear the thought of all those people being killed.
Miss Hanley, that is extremely dangerous. You cannot guarantee that Sapa Inca will listen to you. He may simply have you killed.
I know. But I cannot stand by and do nothing. I believe I can convince him of the truth. It is Uturunku I fear.
With good reason. Mr. Quinn sighed, the faintest breath along their connection. How will you communicate with Sapa Inca without Uturunku as translator?
It was a question Bess had puzzled over as they ran that morning, before her Speech returned. She was certain she needed to meet with the Sapa Inca alone, but how could she get him away from Uturunku? More to the point, how could she reach the Sapa Inca without Uturunku interfering and possibly killing her? I…have an advantage, she Spoke. Something that will aid communication.
What is that?
Bess fought a brief struggle with herself. Clarissa had been very clear that no one who did not already know the secret of mind reading was to be told. But Bess trusted Mr. Quinn, and at the moment she was trusting him to help her find a solution. And he could not do that if he lacked all the facts.
You cannot reveal this to anyone, she said. It is a dangerous secret.
You terrify me. What secret?
Bess drew in a calming breath and let it out slowly. I am capable of reading minds.
Mr. Quinn’s surprise ran ragged down the connection. You are? Just you?
No. It is a thing some Extraordinary Speakers develop. And it is not perfect. I catch glimpses of thought, sometimes words, but no complete sentences such as you and I communicate with. It takes effort to make something of them. But it helped me understand the Incas though I could not speak their language. I hope it will help me reach the Sapa Inca and explain the situation
.
Mr. Quinn was silent for a time. It is still very dangerous.
I know. I hoped you might help me devise a way to make it less so.
I am honored by your faith in me.
It made Bess shiver from more than the cool wind. You have never failed me when I needed you, she said. It was as close as she dared come to a declaration.
Miss Hanley, Mr. Quinn said, then went silent. Bess waited, conscious of the ongoing connection between them and the tension that ran through it of suppressed Speech, until he continued, I ask nothing more than to be allowed to continue to support you.
The sincerity and power of his Voice made Bess shiver again, this time with joy. Then advise me. What am I to do?
Mr. Quinn went silent again briefly. Obviously, you need to separate Sapa Inca from Uturunku. Could Amaya do that?
At that moment, Amaya appeared out of the gloom. She knelt beside Bess and began removing food from her satchel. “Is some only,” she said.
“Un momento, yo Hablo con mi amigo,” Bess said. She tilted her head back—that was a habit she had lost over all those days in the Inca city—and Spoke, Perhaps. I will ask her.
Then if Uturunku is distracted, you can Speak with Sapa Inca. You will not have long, as I imagine Uturunku will not want to leave his emperor for any length of time. Unless Amaya’s distraction is fatal.
That chilled Bess with fear rather than excitement. You believe it could come to a fight?
I believe Uturunku, from what you have said, is the kind of man who thinks nothing of hurting others when they stand in his way. It comes down to whether or not Amaya is as committed to this venture as you are.
Bess watched Amaya, who was eating a tomato and sitting back on her haunches, as alert as a hare in the farmer’s field. I will ask, she repeated. I hope so.
Then you will need to escape when your message is delivered and Sapa Inca convinced, Mr. Quinn said. This time, the Seers have something of yours with which Mrs. Rutledge can compel Visions. I do not believe she has located the one that will permit her to See through your eyes, but it is simply a matter of time.
And with my vision enhanced by Amaya, I will be able to see something a Bounder might use to reach us, Bess said. How is it you know so much about the search, if you are not known to have a connection to me?
There was a brief pause. Sophia Rutledge is…a friend. She tells me of her employment. She does not know of my interest in your situation.
I see. A friend, eh? Jealousy gripped Bess for a moment before she remembered Mrs. Rutledge was happily married. Then…I believe our earlier plan, for me to create a Bounding chamber of my own, is sound, if I could find a suitably enclosed space. If we do not have to flee the city ahead of Uturunku’s men, there are many rooms there.
At worst, you will have to return to Lima, but someone will tell you whom to contact within the city, if it comes to that. Mr. Quinn sighed again. It is a threadbare plan, but it is better than no plan at all.
I agree. Thank you. I…you have given me comfort. She could tell him she loved him, but again, she wanted even more to tell him of her feelings face to face, to see his eyes light with joy and not feel it in his Voice alone.
That gives me great happiness. I would that I could be by your side.
She smiled. Even if that meant revealing yourself?
It might be worth the risk. The connection dulled and went dark.
Bess sat staring unblinkingly into the darkness for a few breaths. That had been as close to a declaration of love as made no difference. Did that mean he was considering changing his mind, telling her his identity? Or…but no, if he intended to tell her who he was, he had had ample opportunity to do so in the past few weeks.
She dug into the satchel and found a handful of nuts, which she nibbled. She needed to eat to maintain her strength, but she found herself without appetite.
“¿Su amigo, él es Orador?” Amaya asked.
“Yes, he is a Speaker.” Bess accepted the sloshing waterskin Amaya handed her and drank deeply. “Amaya,” she said, “we must reach the Sapa Inca, yes?”
“What is ‘reach’?”
“Oh…it is llegar, I believe. We must get to the Sapa Inca before the attack…decir él sobre de ataque. He must know the Spanish are coming.”
Amaya nodded. “To take los niños y mujeres out. Away.”
“Sí. But Uturunku is dangerous. He will fight us.”
The moon had risen while Bess was Speaking with Mr. Quinn, and while it was no longer full, it was still bright enough that Bess could see the fierce smile that spread across Amaya’s face. She said something lengthy in Spanish, then added, “I fight him. I win. I Uturunku.”
“You…I don’t understand.”
Amaya scooted closer. “Él es no Uturunku,” she said. She bit her lip as if thinking hard. “You name Bess, but you call Orador. He name Cuyuchi, but he call Uturunku.”
“You mean Uturunku is his title.”
“Sí.” Amaya began speaking again, and this time, while Bess did not understand most of her words, she saw glimpses of Amaya’s thoughts: two men, naked but for loincloths, fighting each other with knife and claw; blood spattering the hard stone of the Incas’ plaza; the man Bess knew as Uturunku standing with one foot on the back of a prone man, sprawled in death; the strange flat pendant Uturunku wore being placed around his neck by the Sapa Inca.
“I believe I understand,” Bess said. “Uturunku is leader of the guerreros jaguar, yes? But he became such through combat. You—” She had been so caught up in translating that the full meaning of the words had passed her by. “Amaya, you cannot challenge Uturunku—Cuyuchi—for the leadership! He will kill you!”
Amaya shook her head. She went from a crouch to a backwards leap that turned into a somersault that ended with her in another crouch, this one on hands and feet with her teeth bared. Then she rushed Bess, bowling her over. Bess had barely time to understand what was happening before razor-edged claws pressed into the soft skin at the base of her throat. “Lo mataré,” she whispered in Bess’s ear. I kill him.
Bess did not move. “Amaya, overwhelming me is one thing,” she said. “I am no warrior. He is strong and I have no doubt he has killed many. I cannot permit you to do this.”
Amaya released her. Bess turned in time to see her claws retract. She spoke again in Spanish, and this time Bess understood every word, because she had heard some of them before. “It is not honorable to kill the defenseless,” she translated aloud, “and the Incas must know what comes. I will give my life for that.”
Bess sighed. Amaya was a powerful, noble warrior, and perhaps that made her reaction inevitable, but Bess could not be happy about her friend facing death on her behalf. On the other hand, Bess risked death herself, returning to the Inca city, so what did that make her? A hero? She hoped not. Heroes often ended up dead.
They slept only a few hours, rising before dawn for Amaya to alter Bess’s eyes and for them to eat a small meal, and then they were off and running.
Bess Spoke to members of her reticulum occasionally, and to her father, but for the most part she ran in a daze, her mind going over the plan—Mr. Quinn was right, it was rather threadbare—and trying not to worry. There were so many potential worries it overwhelmed her.
She did not Speak to Mr. Quinn, intending to wait until their evening rest, but he Spoke to her in the late afternoon: I have heard nothing from you all day. I had begun to fear something had happened to you.
No, I simply have nothing to report. We are still running, and we are still ahead of the Spanish. Amaya tells me it is another two days—less than two days—until we reach the Inca city. Bess blinked and realized Amaya was no longer in front of her. Amaya is gone.
Gone?
I hope I have not taken a wrong turn. I fear I run rather blindly when I am engaged in Speaking. Bess came to a halt and cast about for some sign of her friend. Nothing. Bess still could not see far, but she did not even see the blurry movement that might be
Amaya running toward her.
“Bess,” Amaya said from behind her, and Bess spun on her heel with a small shriek.
“What is it? Where did you go?” she demanded.
Amaya shook her head. “We go fast,” she said, grabbing Bess’s hand and towing her along until Bess was moving as fast as satisfied Amaya.
She has returned. I do not know what she saw, but she is pushing us faster now, she told Mr. Quinn.
Let us hope it is not the Spanish.
Yes. I would prefer we maintain our lead.
Then I will not Speak to you further, in case you trip and fall while you are Speaking to me. He sounded amused, and that heartened Bess.
That night, Amaya pushed them farther than usual, until Bess protested, “I truly cannot see anymore, and I prefer not to run blind,” and stumbled to a halt. Amaya ran a few steps farther, then trotted back to Bess’s side.
“Come,” she said, taking Bess’s hand. Bess staggered wearily after Amaya, hoping they were going somewhere Bess could lie down and sleep. But Amaya led Bess uphill, up a slope that soon became steep enough they needed both hands to ascend. Bess had to kilt her skirt up in her waistband to keep from treading on it. Their route usually took them through valleys rather than up and down the mountain heights, and Bess became breathless after only a few minutes.
“Amaya,” she panted, “where are we going?”
“Up,” Amaya said, a less than helpful response. Bess gritted her teeth and kept climbing.
Eventually, she found her hands patting air, and she pulled herself over a cliff’s edge and collapsed, sucking in air desperately. Amaya had not altered her body for mountain climbing, and although her lungs did not ache, her arms were tired and wobbly and her head hurt as it had not for many days.
When she felt steadier, she pushed herself to her feet and looked around. She and Amaya stood on a wide ledge, big enough for four or five people to lie close together, covered in scruff grass and sharp-edged pebbles. It looked out over the mountain range, which was as black as the ocean at night with only the faintest golden light limning the most distant peaks. A cluster of stars flickered in the near distance, apparently only a few miles away and warmer than Bess expected—
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