But as she looked, realization hit her. A worm of ice burrowed into her stomach. All the nahuallis were on the exterior edge of the tapestry. Only she was within. She blinked out of spellsight. The nahuallis had broken off their chants and their drumming. They were looking expectantly at her.
Reisil caught her lip in her teeth, looking down at her feet. The test was clear. She was caught in the spell. To live, to be free, she had to get to the edge. And she had to be careful. Any wrong move would kill her. She could read it in the impassive challenge in the eyes of the watching women. If she was the one they’d sent Yohuac to find, she would be able to get out. If she wasn’t, then she didn’t deserve to.
Chapter 26
Reisil swore under her breath.
~And I just let them stand here and paint us into this mess. Maybe the test isn’t whether I can get out, but whether I’m stupid enough to walk into a trap in the first place.
~We are here now. What can be done?
Which meant stop whining and get on with it. Reisil drew in a quiet breath and blew it out. The nahuallis were watching her. All right. They wanted to see what she could do; she’d show them.
She flexed her fingers, surveying the spell with a quick glance. She had no doubt she was meant to leave it intact. All that work wasn’t meant to be wasted. It was a good test. Shattering the spell would be easy enough. And bloody. But not disturbing it while she withdrew—that was finesse. She looked at the figure they’d traced between her feet. It was painted in midnight blue. An uneven triangle contained several symbols within. The first was shaped like a three lying on its back. Above it were three horizontal dots, and above them a jagged line with four points, reminding Reisil of mountains. The ends of the line were hooked inward, and the left side was taller than the right. She frowned. What did it mean?
Reisil blinked into spellsight, and the symbol changed colors, turning white. The rest of the rinda were shaded in rich rainbow hues. Hers was the only white one in the bunch. Which likely meant it really wasn’t part of the larger spell. So moving wouldn’t likely destabilize the tapestry. Did that mean she could just walk out?
She gave a slight shake of her head. No. What kind of test would that be? She rubbed her mouth, considering.
When she’d freed the plague-healers and Baku, she’d unraveled the wizards’ spells, pulling much of the power through herself. Could she do the same here? She eyed the spell doubtfully. She wouldn’t know where the weakness was—where the rinda weren’t drawn quite right, or where they were spaced too far apart. And even if she did know, she didn’t think she could draw that much energy into her. Rupturing this spell would kill her, and maybe all the nahuallis too. There had to be another way.
Reisil racked her brain. She dared not call on her own power, and tapping into the tapestry might unravel it, unleashing the tremendous power it contained in an uncontrolled snap!
Which left her with walking out.
It was too easy. It was suicidal.
~It’s our only choice. They’ll not wait forever.
~Then let us be quick. Saljane sounded more irritable than frightened, and Reisil smiled.
~Yes, let us be quick. But first—
She held up her fist and Saljane hopped onto it, lifting her wings for balance. Then Reisil bowed to the fire bowl. She had no doubt it represented Ilhuicatl , the father of the gods. She then turned in a circle, bowing her head to the nahuallis, careful to remain on her tile. Then she bent and smudged her finger through the midnight paint, obliterating the symbol. She hesitated. It was too simple.
But hard on the heels of that thought came an idea. She smiled. Would it work? It was worth a try. She dipped her finger into the paint and began writing. She didn’t use the wizard rinda. Her own words had worked well enough on the wards for Saljane and herself. And they felt right. Two words, twined together, repeating in an endless chain around the edge of the tile.
Silence.
Stillness.
When she was satisfied, Reisil stood. The nahuallis watched impassively. Reisil traced the words on the back of each hand. That should do it. She hoped.
~Ready?
~As ever.
~Let’s give it a try.
Reisil reached for her magic. It roared up furiously, like a pack of rabid dogs. She was ready for it. She caught it tightly and fed it into her rinda. Power ran around the letters. Her hands felt like they were being gnawed. For a moment the pain was everything. Then it faded. And so did the rinda. First they turned gray and then vanished altogether. Reisil stared down at her hands. The paint was gone. But when she blinked into spellsight, the rinda were still there, glowing a pale white. Yes!
Reisil turned and faced the edge of the circle closest to her. The watching nahuallis were glancing askance at each other. Reisil smiled. One moment the strange nahualli from another world was trapped in the middle of their spell; the next she’d vanished.
Without hesitation, Reisil stepped out onto the spell. Nothing happened. Her jaw tightened in triumph. The power of the nahualli spell swirled around her. It felt almost alive. She took another step. Another. Slowly she walked the ten steps to the edge, passing between the kneeling nahuallis and out.
She staggered, feeling suddenly light, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted away. She panted, her lungs filling with warm, moist jungle air, fragrant with flowers and greenery. The nahuallis neither moved nor spoke, but they were clearly unsettled by her disappearance. Deliberately Reisil rubbed the backs of her hands against her legs. The painted rinda smeared, and there was a small jerk as her spell snapped. Inside the tile circle, the giant column of power flinched and quivered in response.
“All right then,” she said out loud, knowing they couldn’t understand her. “When’s dinner?”
Her words acted like a goad on the nahuallis. They began chanting again. They rose to their feet, the outer circle walking a path around, stitching in and out of the drummers. The paint on the faces of the inner circle of younger nahuallis slid away, down to the ground.
Slowly they pushed farther inside, spiraling back to the smoldering fire bowl. Reisil watched, using her spellsight. With every step, the senior nahuallis pushed at the tapestry of power they’d created, shrinking it. As they did, the column at the center compressed and shrank.
When they reached the fire bowl, they stopped. The power had condensed into a thick, glowing mat. Reisil marveled at its complexity and the immensity of the magic it contained. What would they do with it now?
Even as she watched, she was answered. A young nahualli witch who had not participated in the ceremony now approached. She was perhaps thirteen summers old. She was naked except for the jeweled copper bands around her arms and ankles, and the yellow rinda blanketing her skin. Her head was shaved. In her outstretched hands, she carried an obsidian box the size of Reisil’s fist.
The girl ducked between two nahuallis and climbed into the fire bowl, unmindful of smoldering coals. She crossed to the center, beneath the spell tapestry. She lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a large blue stone heavily veined with black, like the one in the jewelry worn by the elder nahuallis. It was oval-shaped. Reisil winced as the girl knelt in the coals and ash, her knees splayed wide, lifting the box up level with her forehead. Her face remained expressionless. Reisil hoped the rinda painted on her body protected her from the heat.
The nineteen elder nahuallis now began to lower their arms, keeping them extended as they switched into a new chant. The drummers joined in, closing ranks behind them. As Reisil watched, the weaving of power grew smaller. Slowly it shrank, brightening into a point of shimmering silver light. The nahuallis eased their hands down, guiding it onto the black-veined rock inside the box. The girl shuddered as the compressed weaving settled onto the stone. Her arms shook as if suddenly loaded with an extraordinary weight. Then with a sudden flourish of drums, the nahuallis fell silent.
One reached down and set the lid on the box and took it. The girl rose awkwardly. Her skin w
as reddened, but otherwise unblemished.
The nahualli with the box now turned to Reisil, motioning her to follow them into the large building. Reisil did as directed.
She passed inside the door of what could only be the village meeting house. The walls were lined with a smooth, green wood polished to a high sheen. The east and west ends were the knotted trunks of the ancient Brischil trees. The floor was a mosaic of blue tiles of every hue, none larger than Reisil’s thumb. It slanted downward to the center, where there was another firebowl made of red clay, this one much smaller than the one outside. Overhead, a chimney hole had been cut in the roof. One of the younger nahuallis rushed forward to light it, while others lit the candle bowls scattered on shelves around the walls and in shallow inlets in the floor.
Cushions were piled against the walls in a tumbling array of brilliant color and pattern. The junior nahuallis dragged these forward, setting them in concentric circles around the fire.
One of the elder nahuallis gestured for Reisil to sit in the innermost circle. She acquiesced, more than pleased at the chance to rest. She sat cross-legged. Saljane settled in her lap.
The elder nahuallis filled out the rest of the interior circle. The younger ones rushed in and out, bringing platters of food and drinks. Reisil ate hungrily. She wouldn’t have cared if it were carrion. But in fact, the food was delicious. The meat was cut in strips and marinated in hot spices and fruit juices. The effect was a sweet heat that exploded on her tongue. The vegetables were crunchy, with an intense citrus flavor. The bread was spongy and hot and flat. The drink she was given was a fruit juice that was cold and refreshing. Saljane was content to watch Reisil gorge herself, having hunted that morning.
At last the dishes were gathered and bowls of hot water passed around for washing. Reisil dried herself on a proferred towel. The food and the heavy fragrance of the candles made her sleepy, and she struggled to remain awake.
She started when a gong sounded, echoing brassily through the chamber. Her blood surged and the sleepiness vanished. The door opened and Yohuac was escorted inside, two nahuallis bracketing him.
Like Reisil, he’d been scrubbed and dressed in fresh clothing. He wore the gold jewelry he’d worn before, including a new armband to replace the one Reisil had destroyed. His hair had been braided, though without any decorative beads or ornaments. What was appallingly altered were his expression and carriage. He bore himself humbly, even ashamedly. His kept his head bowed, staring at the floor. Anger flared in Reisil, and she bit the inside of her cheek. This was Yohuac’s choice, she reminded herself.
They led him to an open place, his escorts stepping back a pace. Yohuac remained standing, the firelight gleaming on his skin. A staccato question was launched at him. He answered quickly and obediently. Another question, this time a longer answer.
The questions lasted for more than four hours. The nahuallis interrupted often, arguing amongst themselves, then prodding at him for more information. They directed nothing at Reisil, and she understood nothing they said. Baku did not respond to her questions. She was forced to wait with gritted teeth.
The nahuallis’ voices rose. Yohuac blanched, looking sickly. He argued weakly. They rebuked him. Even Reisil could understand that. She bit her tongue, her lip curling when he dropped down to the floor, wiggling forward on his belly. The witches observed Yohuac with a mixture of aloof disdain and complacent privilege. They let him lie there until Reisil thought she’d scream. Her fingernails cut dents in her palms.
~If they wanted to make a good impression, they failed, she snarled to Saljane.
~This is for you. They want you to know their power. Saljane sounded equally angry.
Reisil thought about that column of tremendous magic. Reisil eyed the many black-veined blue stones that studded the nahuallis’ jewelry. Each was a twin to the stone from the ceremony. Reisil blinked into spellsight. A chill like ice slid down her throat into her stomach. The room glistened like a pouchful of tiny suns. The collected power was immense. She shivered. They could swat her like a mosquito if they wanted. What did they need her for?
~Some doors cannot be opened but with a key. Might is not all.
It wasn’t nothing either.
Reisil stroked stiff fingers down Saljane’s back, forcing herself to remain impassive as Yohuac continued to abase himself. She scanned the austere, proud faces of the assembled women. There was a tightness to their expressions, a hard-held fury. Reisil licked her dry lips. They needed her, and they hated that they did. They wanted her to know how puny her power was compared to theirs. She was supposed to feel small and helpless, obligated and grateful. She was supposed to feel flattered just to be able to serve them.
~I don’t think so, she said caustically to Saljane. But brave words aside, Reisil knew she had to be careful. And very fast. The nahuallis were caught between the mortar of their need and the pestle of their pride. It was an intolerable situation. If their patience failed before Reisil succeeded, they’d turn on her. It was as certain as the sun.
At last Yohuac was given permission to rise. He did so, his head hanging low. Reisil sensed his anger, leashed tightly. One of the nahuallis addressed him again, her words unrelenting. Then to Reisil’s surprise, he turned, his gaze fixed on the ground before her.
“I am to tell you that you are welcome as a magician. You could not have survived their test otherwise. But while it is accepted that you have power, you must prove your worth to the Teotl. You must make a journey to Atli Cihua, the sacred ground where Ilhuicatl first breathed life into the nahuallis. You will be given no food, water, weapons, or clothing. It is a far journey, one that will take an entire turning of the moon. It will be fraught with many dangers. When you arrive there—” Yohuac broke off, his muscles knotting with the effort of controlling his emotions. When he spoke again, his voice was frayed. “When you arrive, you will be judged by the Teotl. If they find you worthy, you will be permitted to speak and be heard.”
Reisil stared in disbelief. Their world was being torn apart and they wanted to waste an entire month testing her? She shook her head, scowling. It was ludicrous!
~He says you must not refuse. There is no other way. Baku inserted in her mind abruptly.
~And what will happen to him?
~He will prepare for the pahtia. It begins very soon. They do not believe he can win. The last was said resentfully.
~They underestimate him, Reisil said, sensing Baku’s stout agreement.
“I will do as required,” Reisil said aloud, aware that the nahuallis were waiting for her response.
“Then I wish you speed. If we do not see each other again, know that you are cherished. I will not forget you, in this life or the next.” He spoke in a monotone, as if discussing what to eat for breakfast. He turned back to address the gathered women, relaying Reisil’s response.
Meanwhile, Reisil sat stricken, realization slowly seeping through her. This was it. Good-bye. This was where her path and Yohuac’s forked. Chances were, after today, they would not see each other again.
She bit her tongue hard, swallowing back the hot grief that burgeoned up inside her. Already they were leading him away. Reisil watched him go, her chest burning as if she’d been skewered by a hot poker. It seemed unreal that he could leave her life so suddenly and absolutely. And not even a chance to say good-bye.
~Tell him— She started to Baku, and then stopped. What could she say? Nothing seemed adequate. Tell him to be careful. Tell him . . . there will never be another man for me.
And it was true. There had been Kaval and Kebonsat, and losing them had hurt. But this was different. Reisil was rooted in Yohuac in a way that seemed impossible in so short a time. But it was what it was. Whether she saw him again or not, they were bonded as tightly as she and Saljane.
Reisil sucked in a quiet sob, her hands beginning to shake. Saljane lifted her head and rubbed her beak against Reisil’s cheek, wrapping her in wordless sympathy.
~He wishes me to stay with yo
u. Baku sounded hurt and forlorn and more than a little desperate. He wishes me to help you. He says that the pahtia is not my concern. You are, and helping to save Kodu Riik.
Reisil licked her lips. Baku would be helpful. Not only to make this journey to the sacred place, but also to help when she returned home. Logic told her to ignore his pain and endorse Yohuac’s direction. But she couldn’t. Part of it was Baku’s pain. He needed to be with Yohuac. But more than that, instinct told Reisil there was something more for Baku and Yohuac to do. Something besides just delivering her into the hands of the nahuallis.
~Go. I’ll be well enough.
She felt Baku’s thrill of hope, followed by uncertainty and hesitation.
~If I need you, I will call. If he didn’t go so far she couldn’t hear. If the wild magic of the land didn’t interfere, the way it did at Mysane Kosk. It didn’t matter. He needed to be with Yohuac, and she needed to pass this next test on her own. Go.
Yohuac disappeared out of the meeting house, and the nahuallis wasted no time with Reisil. They stood her up and indicated that she should remove her clothing. Reisil hesitated a bare moment and then complied with a shrug. When she was done, her exposed skin gleamed white in the firelight, the gold leaf pattern like burnished flame. She flushed at their stares but did not look away.
She had not removed her gauntlet or the talisman she wore around her neck. The nahuallis pointed to both insistently. Reluctantly Reisil pulled off the gauntlet, but shook her head adamantly when they continued to gesture at the talisman. One of them reached for it, but Reisil pincered the woman’s hand in an iron grip.
Tapping it with her fingertip, she said, “Ilhuicatl. Teotl.” It was a gift from the Blessed Lady. She wasn’t going to give it up.
The nahuallis frowned and muttered amongst themselves. At last they seemed to accept Reisil’s refusal. Now two of them stepped forward and unrolled a square of pounded hide. Inside was a map. It was green with unreadable writing on it. Wiggling lines in brown, blue, and black crisscrossed it. Colored symbols in a variety of mysterious shapes pockmarked it. It might have been a children’s drawing, for all that was recognizable about it.
Path of Blood Page 27