Beautiful Salvation

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Beautiful Salvation Page 14

by Jennifer Blackstream


  Saamal brushed her tear away. Very slowly he drew her into his arms. She let him, easing against his chest, letting him hold her as another hot tear escaped. So many images fought for space in her head, so many conflicting thoughts. She was exhausted.

  “Earlier this evening, I found myself in the uncomfortable situation of explaining our culture to guests from neighboring kingdoms. They reacted much like you did to the idea of human sacrifice, they were appalled by the idea, horrified that I allowed it. Even after I explained the purpose of the sacrifice to them, I could see in their eyes how they abhorred the concept. I will admit that part of me was…angry. I resented having to defend myself, my kingdom. I resented the fact that men who didn’t know me, or my people, would judge when they so obviously didn’t understand.”

  Saamal’s deep voice resonated in his chest, vibrating pleasantly against her body where she was curled against him. She was safe and warm and perfectly content to listen to someone else talk, anything to get out of her own head. “It must have been hard for you.”

  “It was, but for reasons other than you might think. There was a time when I had all of my power and the sacrifices were a source of pride for me. I was proud that my people were so willing to honor Cipactli’s sacrifice, that they gave of themselves with such respect. Had my companions from the neighboring kingdoms visited me at such a time, I would have brushed off their disdain with ease, dismissed their concerns as cultural differences and not spared them another thought.”

  He paused easing his head down until his cheek rested on her head. “But I am no longer that man. With half the power I once had, I could not live among fellow gods, could not remain in the Otherworld as I pleased. I had powerful enemies, and they would have leapt at the chance to remove me from the kingdom. I spent more time among my people, truly among my people as they lived their day to day lives, than I had in a very long time.”

  Aiyana waited for him to continue, but Saamal fell silent. For several long minutes, he didn’t speak, the only sound the faint noise of his breathing. She didn’t speak, didn’t want to break the spell. He was sharing something with her, something she thought he probably hadn’t ever shared with anyone. She put a hand on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her palm. She tried to will comfort into him, wanting him to know she was here, listening.

  “It is difficult to think of someone you know giving up their life, however willingly. I learned the names of many of my people, walked among them when they didn’t know who I was. As time went on, the thought of the things I’d done, the things I’d asked my people to do…” He trailed off and shook his head. “I understand your conflict, Aiyana. I share it.”

  Hope blossomed in Aiyana’s chest, so powerful it sent a fresh wave of tears from her eyes. She sat up, taking Saamal’s face in her hands. “Then we will think of a way forward together,” she promised. “A way that both of us can face our friends and family with, a way that will make us and our people proud.”

  Saamal placed his hands over hers, a faint smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “I will feel nothing but pride as long as you stand with me.”

  Relief flooded Aiyana, and she closed her eyes and let her head loll forward. Saamal pressed his lips to her forehead then rested his cheek against her. For a long moment they sat there, taking comfort from one another, basking in the knowledge that they shared their doubts. The bond Aiyana had felt from the beginning hummed stronger, a tangible energy between them. The sensation was invigorating and Aiyana wondered if it felt stronger in the Dreamworld or if it would feel the same on the physical plane.

  Her body stiffened. The physical plane. She pulled back so she could see Saamal’s eyes. “You went back to the physical plane to try and wake me. Did it work? Do you know how I can join you on the physical plane?”

  The light faded from Saamal’s eyes and tension lines appeared on either side of his mouth. “No. I’m sorry, it didn’t work.”

  Aiyana’s shoulders fell, but she kept her eyes on his, her chin up. “There must be something we can do, someone who can help us.”

  Saamal sighed and pressed a kiss to her head. “Aiyana, for over a hundred years I have thought of nothing else. I have gone to every being that I thought might even consider helping me, might consider loaning me power or using their own resources to bring you out of the curse. Nothing has worked, no one has been able to offer a reason why you still sleep. The only conclusion I can draw is that I am not yet worthy to wake you.”

  “What about the fairy?” Aiyana rose up on her knees, refusing to let the despair threatening her take over. There was a way, there had to be a way. “The one Okomi mentioned to me? Perhaps she is powerful enough to help us?”

  “Before your curse, I was the most powerful being in the kingdom. Even giving half of all that power to you was not enough to break the curse. There is no one who can offer more power than that. The only fairies I know of who may be of the mind to help anyone are the balam, and they have already done all they can.”

  “Perhaps there is power that can be added on top of what you’ve given me?” she suggested.

  Saamal raised his eyes to her face and there was a weight there that turned her stomach. Her shoulders slumped even farther and she sat on her heels.

  “Aiyana, try to understand. When I had my full power, I was not an evil person. But I did pursue what I thought was right and good for my people with a certain…single-mindedness. Your dreams have shown you some of what I’ve done. I dealt with those I deemed a threat quickly and with…finality.” He paused. “It was not until I gave up half of that power, until my usual methods of interaction were no longer available to me, that I was forced to wait before acting. I have had a great deal of time to think and reflect on the reality of my relation to others.”

  “You’re telling me you have a lot of enemies.” Aiyana’s voice was matter of fact, though her heart did hold sympathy for him.

  Saamal nodded stiffly. “Yes. And now that I am weakened, there are many of them who would like to take advantage of that.”

  The reality of the situation settled over her like a thousand thick fur blankets. They were not only short on allies…there were apparently dangerous, powerful entities working against them. That complicated things. “You don’t want to go see this fairy because you’re worried she not only won’t help you, but she’ll use the opportunity to…hold your past against you.”

  “Yes.”

  Self recrimination was plain on Saamal’s face and in the way he seemed to have a hard time meeting her eyes now. Aiyana’s heart went out to him and she lifted a hand to touch his cheek and turn him back to face her. “I don’t intend to judge you for your past, Saamal. I’ll judge you for who you are now. Do not hide anything from me.”

  “You will tell me if I frighten you?” Saamal said quietly.

  Aiyana quirked an eyebrow. “Your past has been filling my dreams my whole life. I have seen you, Saamal.” She tilted his chin up. “You do not frighten me.”

  The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. “Let it continue to be so.” He took a deep breath and then slid his hands down her arms to take her hands in his. “It is dawn. Allow me to escort you home?”

  Aiyana opened her mouth, ready to reject the idea. Her parents still feared and hated the Black God, and based on what she now knew of her parents’ past interactions with him, she was afraid their bitterness would overwhelm any good manners they may have treated him with as their guest. But she swallowed the words as soon as they rose. Saamal had a past. He’d expressed a desire for a different future. She would not hide him like some shameful secret.

  “I accept your generous offer.” She set her shoulders and rose with him, facing the direction of the palace. The crimson veins in the sky that had appeared so sinister a short while ago had faded to a blushing pink. The sky was peaceful and welcoming, full of new hope. Or perhaps it was her mood that had changed. Aiyana brushed off her clothing as best she could as they trudged through the w
oods. The going was harder in human form than it had been with the spirit of the jaguar wild inside her, but the path wasn’t unpleasant. The trees were gorgeous shades of rose and emerald green, and the scent of freshly turned earth and growing plants enveloped her in a pleasant perfume. She elected to avoid the secret passageway, momentarily amused by the thought of how her guards would react to her exiting her bedroom accompanied by a strange man.

  They walked through the forest in companionable silence until they arrived at the open road. It was still too early for most of the village to be up, and the people were just starting to mill out of their houses when they arrived at the gates to the castle. Aiyana kept her hood up, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention, and no one appeared to recognize her. The guards on duty, however, nearly swallowed their tongues at the vision of the princess outside the gates. Their hands tightened on their spears at the sight of Saamal, but Aiyana met their eyes and placed her other hand firmly on Saamal’s arm. The guards shared a myriad of glances, but opened the gates and allowed them to enter. Aiyana observed as one of them practically ran for the castle, and braced herself for her parents’ reaction as another guard ushered her and Saamal inside.

  Her mother was on her as soon as they entered the castle’s main doors. Her dress was a pure white, with a delicate fringe that fell from the shoulders and neckline to her stomach. They swayed erratically as she hurried down the stairs, the bottom hem of her dress cut at uneven angles dancing about her feet. Silver beads were embroidered on the skirt, making her shimmer as she moved. “Aiyana!” she gasped. “Where on—”

  Her gaze landed on Saamal and she froze, all the blood draining from her face until her pallor nearly matched her dress. She stopped as though she’d hit a solid wall, her body jolting back so hard she stumbled to regain her footing. Saamal’s face remained impassive, but Aiyana could feel the sudden tension singing through him where her hands lay in the crook of his arm.

  “You,” her mother whispered.

  “Good morning, Your Majesty.” Saamal kept his voice calm, holding very still in what Aiyana assumed was an attempt to appear unthreatening.

  “You…” Tears filled the queen’s chocolate brown eyes then spilled down her cheeks. “You’ve come for her then.”

  There was a rustle of fabric and Aiyana glanced up in time to see her father take the last step off the staircase. His once strong body was hunched, leaning heavily on the cane clasped firmly in his right hand. His hair was greyer than she remembered, thinner and wilder than the silky ebony strands he’d once had. The tunic he wore was richly adorned with gold, but the precious metal only accented the loose fit of the garment, highlighting the weight the king had lost. The burgundy cape draped over his shoulders did what it could to compensate for his drooping shoulders, but it was a losing battle. The sight of him pained Aiyana as it always did. Her father’s health was failing.

  Though the king’s eyes had lost their shine, they remained sharp and steady. He kept his eyes locked on Saamal as he slowly made his way to stand beside his wife.

  “Your Majesty.” Saamal bowed his head.

  The lines around the king’s eyes and mouth tightened. “Lord of Near and Nigh.”

  A muffled cry broke the following awkward silence and a man shot out of nowhere, throwing himself to the ground at Saamal’s feet. He was wearing the elaborate robes of a priest, brightly dyed feathers and shining beads sewn to his clothing to depict holy symbols and ancient tableaus. The beads clacked against the stone floor as his entire body shook with violent trembles.

  “My Lord, forgive me,” the priest gasped. “I told them we could not stop the sacrifices, I told them it was your will that they continue, but he forced me to stop!” The man raised a shaking hand to point at the king, not raising his head to look at Saamal.

  Aiyana pressed closer to Saamal, fighting the urge to shout at the priest for being so quick to throw her father up as a target. Still, the holy man wasn’t wrong, and her father did have to answer for the choices he’d made. She pressed her lips together and glared at the priest.

  The monarch’s lip curled in disgust. “Get off the floor, you fool,” he snapped. He lurched off his cane, using it to jab the priest in the ribs. “Remove yourself! You shame us all.”

  “He wanted you weakened, My Lord!” the priest continued, ignoring the king as if he weren’t there. “He didn’t want you to have his daughter, and he thought if he stopped the sacrifices—”

  “And how has that worked for you, Your Highness,” Saamal asked, pointedly looking at the king’s cane. “When you took your oath as king, you bound yourself to the land. Now that you’ve broken the sacred pact, tried to starve the very being whose life sustains your kingdom, how does your health fair?”

  The king stiffened. “I would rather have my daughter than my health,” he ground out. “I would die for her.”

  The queen grasped his arm, eyes bright with tears, but the king ignored the plea on her face.

  “You came to us at our daughter’s naming ceremony, demanded her hand in marriage. You brought evil down on her.” Light flared in the old man’s eyes, belying the weakness of his body. “I did what I could to keep her safe and I will not apologize for it. Ever!”

  “And when the land dies, and you die with it, what will be left for your daughter?”

  Aiyana dug her fingers into Saamal’s arm as heat infused his voice. She looked from Saamal to her father. “Do not speak of me as if I’m not here.”

  “Aiyana,” her mother protested, her voice thick with tears.

  She faced her mother. “I know about the betrothal, Mother.” She met her mother’s eyes. “I know who he is.”

  Her mother’s hand flew to her throat and Aiyana took her other hand in her own.

  “Have faith, Mother. Everything is going to be all right.”

  She glanced back at Saamal, meeting his eyes. They were still human, not the gold of the jaguar or the black pits of the god. As she stared into them, they softened.

  “You spoke of wanting to change. If you want a new life for you and our people, you cannot hold on to past grudges.”

  Saamal took a long, slow breath, but nodded. He faced the king and bowed his head once more. “When I claimed your daughter’s hand in marriage, it was for the power.” His voice came out quiet but clear, strong without being overbearing. “The prophecy had said she would bring me great power, and I wanted that power for our land, for our people. As was my nature, I kept my eyes firmly on the goal, and ignored the consequences of my means.” He looked at the queen and he bowed his head. “I didn’t see her as someone’s daughter. A child beloved by her parents. I didn’t think of how frightened you would be, how much you would worry about what would become of your little girl if she married the Black God. I thought only of the end, the benefit to the kingdom as a whole.” He stood a little straighter, planting his feet shoulder width apart. “I am not saying that I was wrong. I am a god, the creator of this kingdom, and my responsibility was to make it as strong and well-protected as I could.”

  He patted Aiyana’s hand. “However, in my zest to strengthen my people, I forgot the second part of the prophecy. The part that said your daughter would change me, would lead me down a different path.”

  Saamal took the queen’s hand in his. Aiyana’s mother’s eyes widened and her body trembled more violently until Saamal leaned down and laid a kiss on her knuckles.

  “You have raised a truly amazing daughter. She is strong and fiercely loyal to her people. It is my greatest hope that she will fulfill the second part of the prophecy and help me to find a new path. Know that she will not be queen in name only. And I will strive every day to be worthy of her.”

  “You will never be worthy of her.” The king’s knuckles whitened as he gripped his cane. He pulled his wife’s fingers from Saamal’s gentle grip.

  Aiyana shot her father a sharp look. “Father—”

  “Do not mistake my desire to be a good husband to your daughter as a
sign that I will forget my duties to my kingdom, Your Highness,” Saamal said, his voice hard despite the low tone. “You have damaged the kingdom, brought suffering to your people. There will be much work ahead to undo the damage you have done. I will make sure that restitution is made.”

  “Am I to be the next sacrifice then?” the king snarled.

  Aiyana’s heart leapt into her throat. Such anger in her father’s eyes, such…pain. Was his suffering so great that he wanted to die? “Father, stop.”

  “It would be a fitting offer to the land you’ve been starving,” Saamal answered evenly.

  Shock poured over Aiyana like a bucket of icewater. She whirled to face Saamal, her heart constricting in her chest. “Don’t ever jest about such things.”

  Saamal’s lips parted as if ready to respond. Something in her face seemed to stop him and the words died on his tongue. He contemplated her for several long moments, his expression inscrutable.

  Aiyana pulled on his arm, tugging him toward the door. She had to speak with him privately, needed to convince herself that the connection they’d forged in the forest alone hadn’t vanished. “Come with me. I want to show you our gardens.”

 

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