“There’s a match in one of the other bundles,” Rabbit said.
“It’s beautiful,” said Sky Knife. “I can’t take this.”
“Oh, of course you can,” said Rabbit. “If you don’t return it, it’ll be trouble for my cousin, and you don’t want that, right?”
“No,” said Sky Knife. “But—how do you come to have these things?”
“My clients have to pay,” said Rabbit. “Some of them pay … very well. But that’s not why I asked you to come back here.”
“Why then?” Sky Knife rewrapped the spool and tensed as Rabbit came to stand next to him. The heat coming from her skin and the smell of her perfume excited him. He could see why men desired Rabbit, even if they couldn’t marry her.
“A client came to me early this morning,” she said. “And, well, men often talk to women like me when they won’t to anyone else.”
“Yes?”
“Rat said you were trying to find out what happened to the king. This man said something about that.” Rabbit bit her lip, apparently frightened.
“What did he say?” Sky Knife clutched Rabbit’s arm, completely forgetting his earlier discomfort.
Rabbit hesitated, then took a deep breath. “He said … he said that the king would die.”
“But the king did die.”
“I said that, too, but he laughed. I think he meant the new king—the boy.”
Fear clutched Sky Knife. “Did he say when? Or who would do this?”
“No. He said nothing more.”
Sky Knife tried to think through his fear. “Who was this man?”
“I don’t deal in names,” said Rabbit. “But I recognized him. He was the ballplayer, Leather Apron.”
14
Sky Knife hurried back to the room where Whiskers-of-Rat and Dancing Bear waited. Dancing Bear still sat on the bench, but Whiskers-of-Rat sat next to her with his arm around her shoulders and his tongue in her ear.
“Let’s go,” said Sky Knife. “To the palace.”
Whiskers-of-Rat hesitated, but Dancing Bear pushed him away. “Go on,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”
Rabbit came in behind Sky Knife. “Looks like you two came to some sort of arrangement,” she said. Dancing Bear laughed.
Whiskers-of-Rat stood reluctantly.
Sky Knife bowed to Rabbit. “Thank you for your kindness,” he said.
Rabbit cocked her head and nodded. “Just remember it’s all on loan.”
Whiskers-of-Rat walked over and kissed his cousin on the cheek. “Thanks,” he said. “I owe you one.”
“More than one, but who’s counting?” asked Rabbit. “Don’t worry—I’ll collect on that debt.”
Whiskers-of-Rat headed for the doorway. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Dancing Bear was already there. “I have to return to the temple,” she said. “But I’m sure I’ll be seeing you,” she nodded to Sky Knife, “at the ascension tomorrow.” Dancing Bear walked into the darkening street.
Whiskers-of-Rat and Sky Knife walked out into the crowds, which had not thinned even though it was late afternoon. Many of the people now looked like farmers, grimy and sweaty from a day’s work preparing the fields for planting.
Sky Knife clutched his bundles to his chest to ward off the evening chill.
“I should carry those for you,” said Whiskers-of-Rat. “You are my client.”
Sky Knife clutched the bundles more tightly. “No, no, this is fine.”
Whiskers-of-Rat shrugged. “My cousin is quite something, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is,” said Sky Knife. He increased his pace.
“Is there a problem?” asked the guide.
“I don’t know,” said Sky Knife. “Maybe. I want to see if the king is all right.”
“Then there is a problem.”
“Maybe. I hope not.” Sky Knife threaded his way through the crowd with confidence.
“If Rabbit told you, she told you truly. Ah, but here we are.”
Sky Knife hurried into the palace without stopping. The warriors watched him impassively.
The front room was lit by oil lamps, but no one was there. He hesitated, unsure yet how to find his way around, but he heard voices down the corridor in front of him. It sounded like Jaguar’s Daughter. Sky Knife headed toward the sound.
He found Jaguar’s Daughter with the Corn Priest in a small outer courtyard. Both of them looked up as he approached. The long thin nose of the Corn Priest twitched.
“We are not to be disturbed,” said the Corn Priest. “There is much to be done before tomorrow’s ascension.”
Sky Knife ignored him. “Where’s Black Coyote?”
The Corn Priest stood, angry. “Get out of here,” he said. “It is my place to prepare the new king, not yours. You’d be wise to remember that.”
Sky Knife continued to look at Jaguar’s Daughter. “Where’s your son?”
“Why?” asked the Corn Priest before Jaguar’s Daughter could respond. “What do you want with the king?”
“Stop this,” ordered Jaguar’s Daughter.
The Corn Priest turned to her. “He barges in here carrying rags like a servant after being missing all day. Why should we treat him well when he is nothing but rude to you and your family?”
Anger exploded in Sky Knife’s chest. He would have reached out to the Corn Priest and forced the older man to face him, but he didn’t want to drop the precious objects he carried. “If you call obeying your mistress’ order rudeness, then do so,” he said. “But not in her hearing.”
“Yes,” said Jaguar’s Daughter. She rose and came to stand by Sky Knife. “I asked him to seek answers. If that task took him into the city, then that’s where he belonged.”
“Only the gods grant answers,” said the Corn Priest.
Sky Knife took a deep breath. “This is wasting time. Where is Black Coyote?”
“He’s inside,” said Jaguar’s Daughter. “He was tired after a day of devotions, so I sent him in to take a nap before the evening meal.”
“Who’s with him?”
“Deer, of course. Perhaps Talking Storm, if he can be pried away from his temple today.”
“No one else?”
Jaguar’s Daughter’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“It may be nothing,” said Sky Knife. “I’d rather be sure. Where is your son now?”
“You don’t need to disturb the king,” said the Corn Priest. “I’ll go and check on him.”
Jaguar’s Daughter nodded. “Thank you,” she said.
Sky Knife watched the Corn Priest go, uneasy. But Jaguar’s Daughter would surely do what was best for her son. If she preferred for the Corn Priest to go, Sky Knife should accept her wishes.
“What is that you have with you?” Jaguar’s Daughter asked.
“What?”
“What is it you’re carrying?”
Sky Knife glanced down at his bundles. “Clothes. Jewelry. My guide’s cousin has lent them to me for the ceremony.”
Jaguar’s Daughter clicked her tongue in a sound of annoyance. “If I were thinking straight, I’d have seen your need before. I’m sure the king has enough jewelry to share. But I’m afraid I haven’t been thinking about such things today.”
“I understand,” said Sky Knife.
“So, let’s see, shall we?” Jaguar’s Daughter reached for the bundles. Sky Knife allowed her to take them.
Jaguar’s Daughter set the bundles down gently on a bench and unwrapped a small white cotton cloth. Inside lay a string of beads as dark as night. They reflected the dim light of the oil lamps as if they were miniature stars. Jaguar’s Daughter reached for the beads with a gasp.
“I’ve rarely seen such,” she said softly. “Hematite polished so well it reflects all. Even the truth, it’s said.”
Jaguar’s Daughter stopped just short of touching the beads. “This cousin of your guide must be a very good judge of character—or very stupid—to let these out of her sight.”
&n
bsp; “I hope the former,” said Sky Knife.
“So do I,” said Jaguar’s Daughter. She rewrapped the hematite beads carefully and unfolded one of the larger bundles. It turned out to be a long tunic, almost as blue as Sky Knife’s skirt. A white sash was rolled up in the center of the bundle.
Jaguar’s Daughter examined the tunic. “Fine weaving went into this,” she said. “I can remember my mother weaving such things before I left home to come here.”
The Corn Priest returned, leading a yawning Black Coyote. “Well, I don’t know why you had to cause such a fuss,” he said. “The king was sleeping quite peacefully.”
Sky Knife nodded. “Then I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Jaguar’s Daughter smiled. “It was no bother. I am grateful you’re concerned about my son.”
Jaguar’s Daughter folded the tunic into a compact bundle and returned the bundles to Sky Knife. “We’ll see you later at the evening meal, I hope,” she said. “You’d better eat all you can now—tomorrow we’ll all be fasting for the ascension. And don’t save all your treasures for tomorrow. Let’s see some on you tonight—give Talking Storm some competition for being the most beautifully bedecked priest, eh?”
“Of course,” said Sky Knife. He bowed to Jaguar’s Daughter and left.
Once in his room, he undid all the bundles and sorted through the piles that resulted. The blue tunic he slipped over his head and belted with the white sash. He undid his own leather belt that held the deerskin bag containing the Hand of God and tied that around his waist as well.
He replaced his simple wooden ear spools with the jade spools engraved with the image of the Fire God. The hematite beads he placed around his neck.
Jade bracelets, anklets, and necklaces remained. Sky Knife hesitated. He already wore more than he was used to for most occasions, but Jaguar’s Daughter had asked him to dress well, and perhaps it was true he should try to look more his station here. Sky Knife put on the jade jewelry. The beads clanked in a comforting way around his wrists.
“Sky Knife?”
Sky Knife turned. Deer stood in the doorway, his mouth open.
“Feathers of the Masked One!” said Deer. “You look magnificent.”
The dwarf looked likely to go down on his knees. Sky Knife waved for him to come in, hoping to forestall such a gesture.
“You approve,” Sky Knife said.
“I … of course I approve,” said Deer. “You’ll outshine even Talking Storm, and that takes some doing. Where did you get all of that?”
“My guide’s cousin. I have to return it to her, though.”
Deer frowned.
“What?”
“You should change one thing,” said Deer. “May I?”
“Feel free,” said Sky Knife. “Whatever you want.”
Deer untied the belts and set the white sash on a bench. He examined Sky Knife’s own leather belt. Carefully, he undid the knots that tied that bag to the belt and released the belt. He picked up the white sash and tied the bag onto the sash.
Sky Knife stood still while Deer replaced the white sash around his waist. He could see why Deer had wanted to get rid of the other belt. It was travel-stained and frayed. It did not match the rest of his outfit. The white leather bag, though, went well with the sash.
“Perhaps she’ll allow you to keep the sash,” said Deer. “Or you can buy one.”
“Perhaps,” said Sky Knife. He looked down at himself. Only the peasant sandals Tree Conch and Corn Husk had given him were out of place now.
Deer saw the direction of Sky Knife’s glance. “Can’t do anything about that,” he said. “My feet are too small.” Deer stepped back and took a good look at Sky Knife. “Yes,” he said. “You’ll definitely outshine Talking Storm. With one more correction.”
“What’s that?” asked Sky Knife, a little self-consciously. The wealth he wore was a great deal more than he preferred to wear at one time—especially since it wasn’t even his. What else could be missing?
“Wait right here,” said Deer. “I’ll be right back.” The dwarf dashed out of the room and returned less than a minute later, out of breath.
“Here we are,” he said. He held out a handful of yax-um feathers to Sky Knife.
Sky Knife took the precious feathers gently. They were affixed to a strip of leather, but Sky Knife could not determine how they were worn.
“I’ll get it,” said Deer. He retrieved the feathers from Sky Knife. “But you’ll have to sit down. You’re too tall for me to do this any other way.”
Sky Knife knelt in front of the dwarf, who seemed disconcerted. “I said sit,” said Deer. “You shouldn’t kneel to me.”
“Just do whatever it is you’re going to do,” said Sky Knife. “Besides, there’s only honor in kneeling to a sacrifice.”
Deer blushed. He stepped behind Sky Knife and pulled Sky Knife’s hair back.
“This normally takes two people,” said Deer. “But I practiced on my Little Weed so I could dress him quickly for any occasion he had to attend. He’s too little to sit still for very long.”
All Sky Knife felt was a gentle tugging as Deer affixed the headdress.
True to his word, in a very short time, Deer announced, “Finished,” and stepped back.
Sky Knife put his hands to his head and felt the headdress carefully. His own hair had been pulled through holes in the leather and braided behind it to keep it on his head. The yax-um feathers, rather than standing up straight or flying out behind him, fell on each side of his head. Some of the feathers came only to his shoulders. Others dripped down to his elbows.
“Come,” said Deer. “You should really see this.”
Deer led Sky Knife down the hall to a courtyard he hadn’t yet seen. This one had a still shallow pool of water in the center. “Go on, look,” said Deer.
Sky Knife looked down into the pool. A stranger stared back. Sky Knife’s hands went to his head, to his shoulders. All this finery! This couldn’t be him. Sky Knife knelt, careful to keep his skirt out of the water, and peered even closer.
The tattoos were familiar, but even the eyes of his reflection seemed strange to him. Sky Knife had not seen his reflection a great many times, but he always remembered himself looking boyish, somewhat out of place. Someone who might be a priest but who didn’t really look like one. The man reflected in the pond looked like a priest. He looked like a king. His gaze was penetrating and deep and his nose hooked like a Mayan man’s nose should.
Sky Knife’s hand went to his nose. He remembered his as being rather small, not like this. Although his eyes were not crossed, still, his reflection showed an attractive, powerful, Mayan man. Sky Knife couldn’t stop staring.
Deer laughed. “You see what I mean?” he asked. “You could outshine anyone.”
“What trick is this?” asked Sky Knife. “I never looked like this before.”
“When did you look last?” asked Deer. “No,” he said when Sky Knife tried to answer. “I mean really look. Really see.”
Sky Knife glanced once more at his reflection and stood up. “I don’t know,” he said.
“Well, perhaps you didn’t see truly then—sometimes, when we look in the water, we see only what we want to see.”
“And what do you see when you peer into the water?” asked Sky Knife.
“I see a sacrifice,” said Deer. “And I see a terrified man.”
Sky Knife glanced down at the dwarf, but the other man wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“There is no shame in fear,” said Sky Knife. He squeezed the other’s shoulder. “The gods know our fears and are not offended.”
“It’s not the pain,” said Deer, still refusing to look at Sky Knife. “It’s … it’s…”
“It’s the knife,” said Sky Knife. “I know.”
Deer let out a breath that was more a sob. “Oh, gods,” he whispered. “What am I going to do?”
“Do about what?” Sky Knife led Deer over to a bench and sat down.
Deer sa
t down and pounded the bench with a clenched fist. “I’ll panic and ruin the ceremony. I’ll be bad luck for my Little Weed.”
“No,” said Sky Knife. “No, I don’t think so.”
“How can you know?”
Sky Knife thought back to all the sacrifices he’d seen. The sacrifices he’d performed. Only one had been without fear. All the others had been just as terrified as Deer. “It is as the gods will,” said Sky Knife at last. “They have chosen you, so you will do well—how else can it go?”
“I hope you’re right,” said Deer. Tears trickled down his cheeks. “Because when I look up and see the knife, I just know I’m going to scream.”
Deer got up and left quickly before Sky Knife could say anything more.
Sky Knife wiped a tear from his own eye. It would be hard to see Deer under the knife. Very hard.
15
Sky Knife wandered the palace until he found a servant hurrying to accomplish some errand.
“Grasping Fire—where can I find his rooms?” Sky Knife asked.
The servant gasped and dropped to his knees, his eyes staring down at Sky Knife’s feet.
“Grasping Fire,” said Sky Knife again. “Please, tell me where I can find him.”
The servant wordlessly pointed back the way he had come.
“Thank you,” said Sky Knife. The servant remained on the floor. Sky Knife finally had to step around him.
Sky Knife followed the corridor to a junction. He hesitated, unsure where to go next. He listened. To his right he heard … something. Crying? He stepped forward.
He hadn’t taken very many steps toward the noise before he realized what it was. A man and a woman were sharing a bed. The rhythmic grunts and cries they made were unmistakable.
Sky Knife blushed and retreated. The Teotihuacanos had no decency at all—sating their passion where anyone might come upon them! At home, he and Jade Flute would try to ensure their privacy before sharing their bodies with each other. And, of course, they would be as quiet as possible so that no one need hear—and be embarrassed—by them.
The two in the room ahead had no such compunction. The woman was nearly screaming now, her partner grunting almost as loudly. Sky Knife backed up and turned to go.
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