The Jade Bones

by Lani Forbes

  Her arms slid up and around his neck, pulling him closer. She gasped as he broke the kiss and trailed his lips along her jaw, his fingers now digging into her back as though he couldn’t hold her tight enough. Her toes curled against the stones beneath her feet, savoring the new sensations, the feelings coursing through her—

  Somewhere nearby a monkey howled so loudly, it broke through the barriers of whatever world they had created for themselves. Yemania wrenched herself out of his arms. And not a moment too soon. A servant appeared from behind a row of bushes, rushing past with a basket of fruits balanced in her arms. She paid them no mind as she hurried past, but it was enough to bring Yemania down from the euphoric clouds she had been dancing on.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, pressing her fingers against her now throbbing lips. “I have to go. I can’t—Ochix, I’m sorry.”

  Then she ran. Just as she had when he held the raiders in place so she could escape. She ran as hard as she had then, sure her very life depended on it now as much as it had that day.

  She reached her room and stopped before her hanging red curtain. Her hands gripped the doorway to steady herself, her breath coming in gasps.

  What was she thinking, kissing him like that in one of the palace’s gardens? Anyone could have seen them. A servant almost did. For all she knew, someone else did see them, and Metzi could be planning to have her punished at this very moment.

  Yemania pressed a hand against her chest, as if she could hold the pieces together if she pushed hard enough. She gave herself a few moments for the pain to wash over her and ebb back to where she could contain it. One deep breath. Two. Three.

  Straightening finally, she threw aside the curtain to her room. She’d get started on some simple recipes to show Coatl in the morning. Then he could begin replicating as soon as possible. That should distract her mind enough.

  But she wasn’t alone in her room when she entered.

  Coatl was already waiting for her, sitting on her bed. His curled hair was unruly, sticking out at odd angles from where he’d likely run his hands through it. His eyes were as red as the wrap around his waist and swimming with ghosts. She was not the only one trying to hold the pieces of their heart together.

  “She’s marrying someone else.” His voice was hollow, void of the usual swagger. “After everything we—” His head dropped back into his hands. Yemania knew he was grieving the loss of not only Metzi’s love, but the future he had envisioned for them. For himself. He would no longer rule the Chicome by her side. Part of Yemania thanked the gods above for that.

  She barely had the strength to keep herself together, let alone Coatl. So instead of consoling him with words, she did the only thing she could think of. She dropped down beside him and wrapped her arms around him. Her healer’s heart knew he didn’t need words right now.

  Coatl did not make a sound. He embraced her back, shaking at the effort to keep his emotions contained. Yemania let her own tears leak out onto her cheeks.

  They held on to each other, her broken heart finding solace in knowing she wasn’t alone anymore. Coatl hugged her tighter, finally letting the agony wash over him.

  And perhaps her heart was not the only one finding healing.

  Chapter

  25

  The forest made Mayana’s skin crawl. She felt as though thousands of tiny millipedes were running across her arms and legs. She swore the beasts, whatever they were, were watching them, lurking beyond the range of her vision. Every sound, every snapping twig beneath Ahkin’s sandal made her jump, sure that claws or fangs were about to dig into her back.

  Ona hunkered low, prowling as if he, too, knew the dangers of what waited for them in the mists.

  A long, drawn-out scream of agony sounded in the distance, and Mayana wanted to scream herself. Were they tortured spirits trying to make their way to the City of the Dead? Or other living souls trapped down here like they were? It was possible. Legend said that if you dove too deeply in a cenote, you might accidentally fall into Xibalba. That water connected the layers like doorways. The sinkhole in Tollan and the cave entrance in Miquitz were the only direct entrances she knew of.

  “What happens if we reach the city?” she whispered. She stayed close enough behind Ahkin that she could reach out and touch his back with her fingertips.

  “We will likely meet with the Lord of the Dead and his council,” Ahkin whispered over his shoulder.

  “His council? He doesn’t rule Xibalba by himself?”

  “No. Cizin, sometimes called One Death or Ah Puch, is the leader, but there are eleven other lords that all oversee a different form of human suffering.”

  How pleasant. Mayana grimaced. “Different forms of human suffering?”

  Ahkin held up a hand for silence. Ona tensed, his ears erect. Mayana’s pulse pounded faster. Was it a beast?

  He looked around, and after several tense moments, must have decided they were safe. “It’s said that each of the lords of Xibalba has dominion over the different types of suffering and can actually inflict them. Sickness, starvation, terror, destitution. Cizin himself inflicts the final death.”

  Mayana swallowed hard. “That sounds lovely. And we have to negotiate with them?”

  Ahkin shrugged. “I’m guessing. I don’t really know. I’ve read they like to humiliate those who make it to the city, that they can sometimes challenge them to prove their worthiness to escape. But again, there aren’t many details. Very few have ever—escaped.”

  “Maybe they’re scared of worms,” she teased, referencing the tiny worm in the walnut shell the Mother goddess had given Ahkin. After she had realized the purpose of the doll, Mayana was confident the worm would somehow play an equally essential role in their escape. She just had no idea how yet.

  They continued on through the mist, trees materializing in front of them as the mist grew into a thick fog, making it impossible to see more than a few steps ahead at a time.

  Mayana’s breathing became shallower, panic clenching at her stomach. She rubbed her throat, as if that would help her draw in more breath.

  Something dark and shining scuttled across the forest floor in front of them. Mayana froze. It appeared so quickly out of the fog, then disappeared equally as fast. No. It couldn’t be. It must have been a creation of her own mind. Of course wandering Xibalba, “the place of fear,” would bring thoughts of her greatest fear of all.

  But then another appeared. Ona barked and snapped at it with his teeth bared. A barbed tail angled up over the shell of its armored body. Eight long legs, two tipped in pinching claws. A scorpion. A black one as big as her hand.

  Mayana screamed and launched herself into Ahkin’s arms. Not a scorpion. Anything, anything, but a scorpion.

  She could feel the memory of the piercing pain in her leg, the poison burning its way through her veins, the numbness of her tongue, and the loss of sound and sight. The scorpion Zorrah had sent to her room to kill her had come so close to succeeding. The only reason she survived had been Yemania. She felt a jolt of sadness at the thought of her friend. Yemania had saved her, gotten her to Coatl so that he could drain the poison. Yemania apologized later that she only healed Mayana enough to get her to Coatl, thinking him the superior healer. Yemania always lacked confidence. All it had done was trap the poison in her system. But Mayana didn’t fault her. She knew Yemania could have healed her on her own had she believed in herself. She had saved her life, and for that, Mayana would be forever grateful. Did Yemania think her dead now? She wished there was some way to tell her she wasn’t.

  But when it came to scorpions, Mayana would rather have her heart eaten out of her chest by an unknown beast. Or even drown in a river of blood. Giant snakes. Mountain monsters. Demon children. None of them terrified her as much as this wicked little creature. She felt all her strength dissolve into sand.

  She buried her face into Ahkin’s chest. His s
olid strength steadied her. But the memories of that night flashed over and over again in her head until she was sure they’d drive her to insanity.

  “Mayana, what—? Oh.” He must have seen the scorpion too. His arms instantly wrapped around her, holding her together as sheer terror washed over her in waves. She wanted to cry, scream, run. But at the same time, it was embarrassing to fear such a small threat. She tried to remind herself that at least this one wasn’t possessed by the spirit of another princess who wanted her dead.

  “I’m—I’m—” Her teeth began to chatter, and she couldn’t finish.

  “I’m here. You’re okay.” Ahkin rubbed her back in long, smooth strokes.

  “I—hate—scorpions.”

  He pulled her back into a tight embrace. “I know.” His wrecked hand gently cupped the back of her head.

  She breathed in the scent of him, somehow rain and sun and incense all mixed together. She listened to the steady beating of his heart, like a pounding worship drum. She tightened her grip on her satchel, letting the presence of her mother’s bones wash over her as well. Slowly, slowly, her heart rate calmed. The tingling in her fingers subsided as she took a deeper breath.

  She pulled back from Ahkin, her breath hitching. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and something inside her cracked at the concern and desire that burned within them.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice deep and low. His breath mingled with hers, and her heart rate started to climb again for entirely different reasons. “I can go crush it for you if you want.”

  Mayana nodded vigorously. Ahkin’s chest swelled at the chance to prove himself, and it almost made her laugh. She might have, if she wasn’t so close to crying. He stepped toward the armored little demon and lifted his shield. She closed her eyes. With a sickening crunch that Mayana felt to her core, Ahkin obliterated it. An incredible rush of affection washed over her.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice as wobbly as her legs.

  He ducked his head. “It’s the least I could do after you saved me from . . . well, pretty much everything else.”

  She reached up and placed her hand on the side of his face, rubbing her thumb along the line of his cheekbone. “I mean it. Thank you.” She stood on her tiptoes and gently pressed her lips to his. Quick, and brief, but heartfelt nonetheless. Ahkin closed his eyes and made a sound deep in his throat, as if it caused him physical pain to restrain himself.

  Mayana smiled and pressed her lips against his again, more firmly this time. Ona whined and pushed against her leg, trying to force his way between them, but she ignored him. Ahkin’s chest seemed to tremble beneath her fingertips, and she deepened the kiss. Ahkin groaned and finally released whatever holds he had placed on himself. His good hand plundered her hair, her back, covering her skin with his fingers and trailing fire behind in their wake. Mayana pressed herself tighter against him. They may be opposites, but for a brief moment, they were entirely one.

  Ona barked loud and sharp. They broke apart. The dog growled in impatience, not wanting to be ignored. Mayana giggled. “I’m sorry, boy. I still love you too.”

  “Too?” Ahkin asked her, fierce hope again blazing in his eyes.

  Mayana sighed. There was no point in denying it. “Yes, I love him too. Because as much as I hate to admit it, he’s not the only one I love.”

  Ahkin arched a playful brow and pulled her close again. “Oh really? And who else do you love?”

  “Coatl. Obviously,” Mayana said, rolling her eyes.

  “Oh good. And here I was thinking that perhaps you loved me. It would be more convenient, though, considering I’m pretty sure I love you.”

  Warmth pooled inside her as she kissed him again. Once. Twice. The third one lingered enough that Ona barked to make them stop.

  Mayana started to laugh, but then she noticed it—another scorpion crawling along after its fallen brother.

  She jumped into Ahkin’s arms again as the mist around them started to clear—not entirely, just enough to see the horror that lay before them.

  The air emptied from Mayana’s lungs. If she had been afraid of a single scorpion, her body could barely register what it experienced now. It was as if she had left her body entirely and was watching the scene from outside herself. It didn’t feel real. Because surely nothing on any level of creation would be this evil . . .

  Before them stretched another river, but instead of flowing with water or blood, the river teemed with black.

  Black shells. Black claws. Black stingers.

  They now had to cross a river of scorpions.

  Chapter

  26

  “Why can’t I go down to the soldier training fields with you?” Coatl pouted.

  “Because I promised Metzi to keep you busy with the remedies for the commoners. I’m sure she will be down there overseeing everything, and you need to stay away from her. For both of your sakes.”

  Coatl grimaced at the rows of tiny clay pots lined up across the stone tables. He picked one up and swirled its contents several times. Jars filled with herbs and mixtures lined the stone shelves of the High Healer’s workroom. Yemania had spent hours smelling and inspecting every one. She felt like a child who had entered a marketplace stall full of toys and treats. Coatl groaned and dropped the pot with a clatter. “Can’t we get a servant to do this?”

  Yemania cut him a look.

  “Fine.” He lifted his hands in surrender and then flourished them in an elegant bow. “I’ll get to work, most gracious High Healer.”

  “You’re an irritating little gnat when you don’t get what you want, you know that?” Yemania teased.

  Coatl waved her off.

  Yemania laughed to herself, grateful she’d found a way to make sure Coatl could stay with her. She didn’t know what she would do without him here. Especially given the rising tensions in the capital.

  The City of Storms had declared itself independent of the Chicome Empire—and promised swift retribution should Tollan attempt to take back control.

  Metzi did not like to give up control.

  With a sigh of determination, Yemania squared her shoulders and marched down the stone steps toward the training fields. She had set up a medical tent to see to the accidental injuries of the soldiers as they practiced. She also didn’t want to be too far away from Metzi, who had insisted on overseeing the training alongside the other military advisors.

  “An emperor is a warrior who understands the importance of protecting his empire. I don’t see why an empress should be any different,” she’d said, staring down the head of the Eagle warriors at the council meeting.

  Yemania couldn’t help but agree.

  Ehecatl was an important asset to the empire, being the only city-state located on the coast. Yemania remembered her father trading with the city for fish and shells and other resources. Like every city-state, its inhabitants paid tribute to the capital with sacrifices. But it wasn’t only Ehecatl’s resources that the Chicome valued. It was also their responsibility to perform the rituals that prevented the world from succumbing to a great storm.

  Their patron god, Ehecatl, was the wind aspect of the creator god Quetzalcoatl. In the age before their own, the sixth sun had been destroyed be a terrible storm. Quetzalcoatl, in the form of Ehecatl, descended to the realms of the underworld and retrieved the bones of humanity. With the sacrifice of his own blood, he brought humanity back to life in the caves of creation and set their current sun, the Seventh Sun, into motion. Legend said that he was the most-loved son of Ometeotl, and that his death had broken her heart more than any of the other gods and goddesses who had given their lives before him. The City of Storms believed that Ometeotl promised to bring her beloved son back from the underworld to rule the cosmos by her side. And then they—his descendants—would eventually rule the empire instead of Tollan.

  And so they awaited his ret
urn, begrudging the other rituals the Chicome believed essential for their survival. If it weren’t for the firm hand of Tollan ensuring their compliance, Ehecatl would forsake the rituals outlined in the codex entirely, focusing only on their worship of Quetzalcoatl and preparing for his return. Preparing for their favored treatment and eventual ascent to power over them all.

  Yemania wasn’t exactly sure what she believed about Ehecatl’s role in the empire anymore, not now that Mayana had planted that seed of doubt about the rituals in the back of her mind.

  Metzi and her advisors were absolutely clear in their stance. The call to arms had gone out the moment the storm lords declared war. Citizens of Tollan and the closer city-states to the capital—Atl, Ocelotl, and Millacatl—had been conscripted into service. Papatlaca requested not to send forces because of the distance, but instead supplied wagonloads of obsidian weapons they created at the volcano. The soldiers now arrived in droves, gathering in Tollan’s garrisons for further training before making the march to the sea.

  And now, thanks to Metzi, Miquitz would be contributing forces as well. Even the council had resentfully acknowledged the benefit of having the death demons fighting alongside them. And because of a tentative truce between the empires, Millacatl could shift its focus away from defending its borders to assist in the campaign.

  Yemania had no doubt Ehecatl’s rebellion would be crushed swiftly.

  The training fields situated between the barracks of the various warrior cults had become a sort of camp. Most of the gathered army was being housed in the temple precinct, but the professional warriors rotated through their military exercises in groups. Almost every male in the empire received a basic form of training as a child, and in some city-states like Ocelotl and Papatlaca, every female as well. But for some, it had been so long that their skills needed to be sharpened before such a substantial campaign.