by Lani Forbes
Yemania was nervous at first about having so many strangers from across the empire housed in the city, but she was surprised by the level of discipline. If a soldier was caught so much as stealing, he or she was executed immediately.
She hurried along behind the House of Eagles, the elegant gold-and-stone barracks and training facilities for Tollan’s elite warrior force. When she emerged onto the training field that spread out between the House of Eagles and the House of Jaguars, she could see that the exercises were well underway. The field spread out as large as the plaza back in her home city, and though it had probably once been green with grass, thousands of feet had trampled it to a dusty brown. Her healing tent was set up beside another tent where Metzi watched from the comfort of a wooden throne lined with cushions.
Yemania couldn’t help it; she scanned the field for Ochix. There were soldiers practicing with arrow launchers and bows, weavers preparing ceremonial battle costumes, weapons masters making repairs and organizing collections of shields, spears, clubs, and macana swords. All the while, Tlana priests in sweeping red robes wandered through the organized chaos, performing religious rites and rituals to bless the coming battle.
A glint of the Seventh Sun’s light reflected off the long, dark hair of a warrior in a sparring pit, immediately drawing her attention.
Ochix.
He was directing some of the younger soldiers in blocking techniques. The young men stared at him with mouths agape, appearing to keep their distance from him. Likely the decades of tension between their empires prevented them from trusting him entirely. Yemania stopped where she stood to watch him, the thick bands of muscles along his arms and back tensing as he pretended to land a blow on one of the young men’s upheld shields. He seemed so focused, so impassioned as he spoke.
“Yemania, come sit by me,” Metzi called from her tent, indicating an empty cushion beside her. “You can heal if you are needed, but for now, come enjoy the shade.”
Yemania did as she was commanded. She definitely didn’t mind escaping the blazing heat. Her forehead was already sticky with sweat from the combination of the humidity and the unforgiving sun.
“When will the army depart for the coast?” she asked, settling on a cushion beside the empress.
“We don’t know yet,” Metzi said, her shrewd eyes narrowed at the warriors before her. “That’s if they even have to go at all. We’ve sent negotiators to reason with Ehecatl, make them submit before they suffer worse consequences. I told them that if they offered me tribute, my forgiveness would be extended and Tollan would continue to protect them. We pointed out the many advantages for trade. They refused. So now we are trying to make them see that death and destruction are inevitable for their people if they do not submit. I offered to supply their rebel forces with fresh weapons, to show our confidence that we will not be defeated. The generals liked that idea. Hopefully it intimidates them into accepting a treaty. If not, we march and put an end to their little rebellion.”
Yemania blinked several times. “That is a brilliant plan, Your Majesty.”
“Of course it is. Everyone seems to be so surprised that I could possibly have a mind for strategy.” Metzi tapped her fingers impatiently against her armrest.
“I’m not surprised in the slightest,” Yemania said, her eyes again finding Ochix. He was now teaching the young soldiers ways to attack an enemy with the macana sword. His eyes lifted for a brief moment and found hers, a smile playing at his lips. Her stomach fluttered. “How are the warriors from Miquitz adjusting?”
Metzi sighed and rubbed her temple. Yemania made a mental note to make more tea for her persistent headaches. “The Chicome are still wary and generally keeping a safe distance. Not that I can blame them. But Ochix assures me they are well.”
“Oh.” Yemania clenched her hands together. “And how are things going with—with wedding preparations?”
Metzi closed her eyes and did not open them, continuing to rub at her temple. “We met with the matchmaker, Atanzah, this morning to discuss plans for the wedding festivities. Feasts, festivals, a separate celebration to be held in Miquitz itself. I guess it’s actually happening.” She didn’t look remotely excited.
Yemania bit down on her lip to force herself to remain silent. She knew Metzi was acting on the orders of her advising goddess, that she didn’t actually want to marry Ochix at all.
“And speaking of Ochix,” Metzi said, jumping to her feet and looking concerned. “Are you all right, prince?”
Yemania wrenched her gaze upward to see Ochix limping toward them, a massive gash in his thigh oozing royal blood down the length of his leg. Footprints of blood trailed along behind him. A blade appeared to have cut right through the black fabric of his wrap and into his flesh.
“What happened?” Metzi scolded. Her eyes were already devouring the young men clustered in the sparring ring, probably wondering who she would have to punish.
“Don’t worry,” Ochix said through gritted teeth. “I’m sure your High Healer can patch me up right as rain.”
“Um, yes. I can, let me—” Yemania scrambled to her feet as well, already reaching for the flap to enter the healing tent.
“Actually, do you have anything that can keep out infection before we heal the skin? I don’t want to take any chances.” Ochix winked at her, and Yemania immediately knew what he was trying to do.
“Yes, Yemania, take him back to the High Healer’s quarters and make sure he’s taken care of. The last thing I need to worry about right now is having to postpone the wedding to find another groom.” Metzi frowned.
Yemania sighed, giving Ochix the nastiest look she could muster behind the empress’s back. He only shrugged his shoulders in mock innocence and mouthed, What?
Yemania rolled her eyes. “Fine, follow me.”
“With pleasure,” Ochix said brightly, limping toward the palace alongside her.
This death demon was going to be the life or the death of her—Yemania just didn’t know which yet.
Chapter
27
Ahkin cursed the gods of the underworld for creating such a challenge. Of all the fears they could have created, they had to choose scorpions. He could see the blood slowly draining from Mayana’s face.
There would be no wading across this river. Not unless they wanted to die extremely painful deaths.
Mayana’s legs gave out, and she collapsed into him. He tried to steady her.
“That’s not—that can’t be—” she mumbled faintly. “You didn’t say anything about a river of scorpions.”
“I’ve never read about this,” he said, breathless himself. How could the texts not have mentioned such a horrific trial? Maybe they did and he just forgot? How could he be so stupid to forget such a crucial piece of information?
“How can we get across it?” she asked, licking her lips.
“Can you float us across? With water from Atlacoya’s amulet?”
Mayana tried to stand and wobbled again. Her breathing became quick but shallow. If she had been tortured by a single scorpion, how would she face a whole river?
Ahkin had seen soldiers suffer unseen injuries of the mind after facing battle. He himself struggled after Pech’s death. Certain situations or sounds or even smells could cause perfectly brave men to suddenly curl into a fetal position. Their memories tortured them, and any reminder of what had scarred their minds brought them back to the place of terror they had known on the battlefield. Mayana seemed to be experiencing something similar. A scorpion had almost killed her during the selection ritual; then she spent days in a haze of poison and delirium. He could still see the scars of its barb marring the beautiful tanned skin of her leg.
But feeling that way didn’t make her any less strong. She had overcome so much already. “You can do this,” he told her.
Mayana nodded, only half listening. She absently reached for her
knife and sliced into her palm. She opened her hand and closed her eyes, just as she had when the water had washed them clean of the river blood.
But this time, nothing emerged from the skull’s mouth.
Mayana opened her eyes again, her chest heaving. She looked down at the necklace, her breathing growing more frantic.
“I—I can’t. I can’t find the will to summon it. It’s like the waters are reacting to my fear.” She turned to him with eyes wide and lost.
It stirred something primal within him.
“I’ll find a way, Mayana. You’ve done so much already.”
She curled into his side, hiding her face so that she couldn’t see the river of terrors anymore. Ahkin wished he could do the same, but he couldn’t let her down. Not this time.
What did he know about scorpions? He started to sort through everything he’d read, every lesson he’d had about nature from his tutors.
He could list off the colors of varying types. How to identify which ones were the deadliest. He knew about their habits. Scorpions ate other small insects. They liked water. They often hid in rotting leaves and wood . . .
And they loved darkness.
Scorpions often came out at night because they hated light!
Ahkin looked down at the shield of Huitzilopochtli, his smile widening.
“I have an idea,” he said.
He withdrew his blade and sliced into his ruined hand. He didn’t need to crush them all. He needed a path forward. The river was not deep, only a layer or two of the creatures in a wide river ditch. Good. That would make this easier.
“Stay here with Ona,” he said.
Mayana sank to her knees next to the dog, who cuddled into her and supported her with his weight.
Ahkin carefully inched his way closer to the teeming scorpions. He summoned light from the shield, from the faded light all around them, and pulled it all into one powerful beam. He directed the beam right into the scuttling blackness, burning and singeing as it made contact.
The scorpions instantly started to scuttle away from the light. He widened the beam, pushing them farther and farther until a path formed across the dirt.
“Mayana, there’s a path. Come on!”
But Mayana remained where she was on the ground.
“You can do this, Mayana. I know you can. Think of everything you’ve survived so far. Everything you’ve done. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. And not just because of all you’ve faced, but because you have the courage to risk your heart over and over again. Caring and loving everyone and everything no matter the consequences. You have the heart of a warrior within you. Get up. You can do this!”
It was a speech he’d given new soldiers before battle, but he had never spoken them with as much conviction and passion as he did now.
Mayana met his gaze, terror warring with determination inside her eyes. “Go with me.”
“I want to keep it safe enough for you. I’ll be right behind you. If you want to save your mother, we have to escape. And we can’t do that without crossing through.”
At the mention of her mother, the determination in her eyes hardened. Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag and she rose shakily to her feet.
Ahkin’s forehead dewed with sweat. He kept his focus on summoning the light. “You can do this. For your mother.”
Mayana nodded once, firmly. Ona stood up too and leaned into her leg in solidarity.
“Don’t look down at them, just run across. They hate light, and I’m keeping it hot enough that they should stay away, but it won’t burn you. I’ll hold them back, I promise.”
Her feet pawed at the ground like a skittish deer, but her hand remained steady on the bag containing her mother’s bones. She seemed to draw strength from them.
“All right,” she said, her voice as hard as her eyes. “Join me on the other side as fast as you can.”
“I will,” Ahkin promised.
She took one more deep breath, and then sprang onto the path. He watched the muscles of her legs, the remains of her skirt flying around her. She was a glorious creation, inside and out. And after the kiss they had shared, he couldn’t wait until when they were alone together again. He glanced down at Ona. Well, as alone as they could be here.
Ona’s ears suddenly perked up and twitched. The hair on the dog’s back raised as a growl rippled through him.
Mayana reached the other side and collapsed upon the sand, twisting around to see him, exhaustion and fear transitioning into a beaming smile of pride. She had faced her greatest fear and conquered it. Her hand motioned for him to follow, an invitation to join her.
Ona’s growling beside him got louder, a defensive bark echoing through the mists around them. Mayana’s smile slid from her face, replaced by a look of terror. She reached out to him across the distance. “Ahkin!”
Ahkin turned just in time to see the massive, spotted form of a jaguar materialize out of the mists behind him. It was unlike any creature Ahkin had ever seen. He had hunted the cats with his mentor, even killing one by himself as part of his training. Every Jaguar warrior had to prove himself by entering the jungle alone and returning with a pelt that would be used to create his warrior costume. But this jaguar was twice the size of the one he had killed in the jungles of Tollan. Typically, a cat would only stand as tall as his waist. This beast—now fixing him with its deadly yellow eyes—rose high above him. His own head only came to its shifting shoulders.
It opened its jaws and released a roar that shook the ground at Ahkin’s feet. Even his bones rattled. Teeth as long as macana swords dangled within its maw.
The jaguar crouched, digging claws longer than Ahkin’s knife into the black dirt. Its muscles bunched as it prepared to pounce.
Ahkin dodged to the side as the beast leapt, a clawed paw swinging around as it missed. Sharp points raked down his back, but he had moved enough that the cuts were not deep. He lost his focus. The path across the scorpions closed as his light faded, a mass of legs and claws and stingers flowing to fill in the space.
Ahkin cursed. His blood already exposed, he bent the light around himself. The cat let out a roar of frustration as it looked around, searching for the mouse that had suddenly disappeared.
It noticed Mayana on the opposite shore of the scorpion river. Mayana scrambled to her feet and bolted for the trees, hiding behind a dark, gnarled trunk.
The cat lowered onto its haunches, preparing to leap the distance across the river. Ona appeared out of nowhere, a mere beetle on the back of a wolf. Still, he dug his teeth into the leg of the jaguar, trying to pull its attention away from Mayana. The cat thrashed, swinging Ona free and sending him flying across the sand. Ahkin knew what he had to do.
He threw out his hand and opened the path across the river again. “Ona, go!” he roared at the dog. “Protect her for me.”
Ona stumbled to his feet, searching for the source of Ahkin’s voice before he darted across to the other side. Ahkin let the path close again.
He dropped his invisibility and waved his arms above his head, whistling to get the jaguar beast’s attention.
The cat roared again. In the distance several more roars answered. There were more coming.
Ahkin looked across the space between them, to where Mayana’s anxious face peered around the tree.
“I’ll distract it away from you,” he yelled. “Run!”
“No! Ahkin, I won’t leave you!” she screamed back. “Don’t you dare leave me alone while you try to be the hero!”
But he didn’t give her the chance to argue further. The moment the cat’s attention turned back to the easier target, he knew what he had to do to protect her.
“Ahkin! Don’t! Please!”
He had to save her. If this was it, the moment where he could make sure she survived by sacrificing himself, he had to. He owed her that.
The one thing he could do to rectify his sins.
Ahkin turned and ran into the forest, the sound of pounding paws on dirt behind him—and an unsaid goodbye still lingering on his lips.
Chapter
28
“I’m not leaving you alone with a death demon. Especially that death demon,” Coatl hissed at her, eyeing the hanging curtain as though he could see through it to where Ochix waited inside.
“Coatl, it’s fine. I promise. But I need to heal his leg before he bleeds out all over my workroom.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
Yemania clenched her teeth. She knew it was a bad idea, but . . .
“I actually need you to go down to the training fields. To have a healer close to Metzi—but don’t you get any ideas about trying to convince her to take you back!” she added, seeing the joy that suddenly burst across his face, like the Seventh Sun breaking free from a bank of clouds.
Coatl launched himself down the hall, his long legs carrying him faster than Yemania could shout her warnings after him. “I mean it. You mess this up, I won’t stick up for you when she sends you back to Pahtia!”
Unease settled in her stomach as he rounded the corner. Hopefully Metzi didn’t bite his head off.
She pushed aside the curtain and entered. Her more pressing issue was the handsome death demon sprawled across the cushions on the floor of her workroom. Granted, he was bleeding all over them, but it still unnerved her to see him watch her the way he did. It made her acutely aware of how very alone they were. The memory of their kiss made her lips tingle.
She set to work crushing some alata leaves into a paste to prevent infection. “I can’t believe you got an injury like this in training. Against inexperienced novices. How do you expect to hold your own on an actual battlefield?” She turned around and stuck out her hip—as her mother always did when giving a lecture.