Written in Starlight

by Isabel Ibañez

  I laugh nervously. “Do you have a title?”

  “Oh. No. We have no titles here.” He tugs on the collar of his tunic. “Do you have a title you prefer? I haven’t somehow offended you, have I?”

  “If I did have a preference, it doesn’t much matter anymore. My people aren’t here. I’ve lost our home. The only loyal subject I have left is Manuel, and he’s not really—” I break off with a rueful chuckle. “He’s loyal.”

  If Sonco thinks my explanation is odd, he doesn’t show it. “Would you like to join me for the morning meal?”

  “Yes, give me a moment.” I shut the door, walk over to the clay tureen, and splash water on my face. Then I grab a handful of mint leaves from a small bowl and quickly braid my hair. I smooth down my tunic and make sure the fringes are untangled. This is my moment to make a good impression. It never occurred to me that he’d seek out my company without attendants.

  The Illari king makes space for me on the path, and together we walk side by side as the sky deepens to a rich blue with a smattering of thunderclouds brewing. The heat is ever present, and after a few moments sweat beads at my hairline.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to be addressed by your title?” Sonco asks.

  I let out a humorless laugh. Considering that my people are miles and miles away, living under the reign of a new queen, do I still have the right to be called by my birthright?

  Arriving here might change that.

  “In this moment, I have no other name besides the one given to me by my parents.”

  “Then Catalina is acceptable?”

  I nod as we slowly cross the bridge and pass the market. It’s bustling with people selling maracuyá, papaya, potatoes, and other produce. Someone plays a melody by slapping a hollowed-out log, the soft drumming adding the perfect backdrop to people gathering under the shaded areas in the main square. The city has several different levels, with big stone steps leading to each one.

  “And where are your parents now?” Sonco continues.

  “Long gone.” I wonder, at what age did that become easier to say? When did I stop crying through the night for them? I can’t even remember their faces anymore. That memory was taken from me too. I only remember Ana and her lessons and plans—the never-ending scheming. It’s what kept us alive all those years, stuck in that fortress, wanting our homes back. “What about your family?”

  “A jaguar killed my father,” he says. “Mother died giving birth to Kusi. He and Chaska are my only family left.”

  And I have no one. I watch as families cart their little ones on their backs, as mothers scold children and fathers smile with paternal pride—what my life could have been like, had I not lost my parents and the baby my mother carried.

  Sonco studies me with a thoughtful air. “You carry sad memories.”

  “Doesn’t everyone, if they live long enough?”

  “True.”

  I shoot him a quick glance. I’m struck by the stern lines of his profile: an unforgiving jaw, thin lips, proud brow. His unyielding expression softens around the children and the mothers carrying sacks of dried food, bundles of cloth. He’s handsome in an austere way. Sonco senses my assessment and meets my gaze.

  “There isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them, is there?” I ask.

  “I’ve done my fair share to keep my people safe.” He hesitates. “Which is why I won’t change my mind about sending the army from Paititi.”

  I stop. “This city will disappear once it’s found. The mountain will be mined, your people will lose their homes. I’ve seen what the Llacsans can do.”

  “I can’t think of anything else until I figure out what’s happening to the jungle. That’s my immediate problem, not what might happen years from now.”

  What rotten timing. If only this threat weren’t looming against their home. If there were something I could do to help them, maybe he’d reconsider. I don’t know where to start in terms of planning, but the memory of what happened to the Illari guards flares to life inside me—their sudden disappearances, their screaming.

  What exactly is out there?

  We reach the building where I met him before and step inside. I’m surprised to find plates and bowls of food stacked on a red-purple-and-navy mat. Fried yuca, roasted pork cut into thin juicy slabs, smashed jungle yams, and a salad of diced tomato and onion mixed with some kind of white cheese. Sonco motions for me to have a seat.

  I suddenly remember that I’m supposed to convince this king that marrying me would benefit us both. But we’ve only just met, and I know nothing about him. The only tangible thing I can offer is my commitment to being a better seer. Is that enough for Sonco? I try not to think about how I’m a disgraced condesa without an army of her own and whose people are battered and recovering.

  I also try not to think about how badly I want Sonco to refuse me again. The thought takes root in my heart, refusing to let go. If I’m denied, then I’m free to be with Manuel.

  But it’d be another failure.

  I can’t have that.

  Sonco hands me a plate, and I immediately pile on a little of everything. “You have a hearty appetite in the morning.”

  I shake my head. “It’s all the walking and climbing. Ximena is the one who—” I break off with a sudden flush.

  He pauses in bringing the food up to his mouth. “She’s the one who what?”

  I take a bite of the roasted pork, and that first crispy taste nearly makes me swoon. Casually, I ask, “So, have you given any more thought to my offer of marriage?”

  Sonco blinks. “You’re trying to change the subject.”

  “It’s a painful memory.”

  He resumes eating, but in between bites, I feel him assessing me. When he’s finished, he leans back on his hands. My plate remains perpetually full. I can’t seem to eat enough pork or plantains. And while it pains me to think of this, Ximena would love all of the food here.

  “Are you going to answer my question?” I prod. “Or you can tell me what you’re looking for in a wife.”

  “I personally am not looking for one.” His voice holds a note of exasperation. “But everyone is encouraging me to marry their daughter or niece or cousin or great-aunt.” He stops, considering. “Though I suppose it might be time to consider my options.”

  “The downside of being popular. Do you like any of them?”

  Again, he blinks at me and I smother a laugh. It’s part of my charm, I guess, getting away with mildly inappropriate questions. It’s only Manuel who doesn’t let me gain any ground. I’m immediately annoyed that I’ve thought about him again, and in the middle of this conversation. I need to focus on finding out what Sonco wants in a partner. I help myself to more food.

  “That’s a personal question,” he says. “Are you involved with the man you’re traveling with?”

  I choke on the yuca. “You’ve made your point.”

  He smiles lazily, and I return it.

  “I have to commend you for your ability to keep this city well insulated from the outside world,” I say. “Just how large is your army?”

  Sonco narrows his gaze. “You won’t give up, will you?”

  “I’m told I’m stubborn.”

  “The army is large enough that my people are safe from outside danger.”

  I lean forward. “And all the gold.”

  “Yes, I’ve been told people in Inkasisa will do anything for it—kill for it, enslave others to mine it.”

  I flush. It seems the history of my people is common knowledge.

  The past has always felt like a distant memory, something that has nothing to do with me. I’ve only cared about what happened to my people, my family, our homes ten years ago. That felt real. But standing in this city—with their own valuable mountain—I can’t help but think that if my ancestors had known about Paititi, they would have moved heaven and earth to find it.

  The thought turns my stomach, twists my heart.

  But I am not my ancestors. I’d rule
differently. More fairly.

  Wouldn’t I?

  “That was a long time ago,” I say. “My people are different now. You might trust us.”

  “Among the Illari, trust must be earned.”

  “How might I earn your trust? I don’t have much time. My people need their leader. They want hope for the future, one that doesn’t have a Llacsan queen lording over them.”

  “We have our own battle to fight here.”

  Once again, the idea of discovering the culprit looms larger in my mind. “Manuel mentioned that a new area of the jungle has been corrupted. Do you have any idea what’s causing it?”

  He shakes his head. “I was hoping you’d be able to tell me. At first I thought you might be responsible.”

  My back stiffens, and my hand flies to my chest. “Why would you think that?”

  “You’re a stranger with a bloody history.”

  “You shouldn’t make assumptions about me.”

  “It was a logical observation, not an assumption. And besides, you’re one to talk about making assumptions.”

  I sputter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m told the new Llacsan queen is honorable.”

  “How would you know such a thing?”

  Sonco raises a brow. “The jungle is our home—we know every inch, the way in and out. What makes you think we don’t have news of the outside world?”

  My body stills, as if frozen by an enchantment. “Well, you’ve been misinformed. The new queen isn’t honorable. Her brother killed my people. My parents. Destroyed half of my city in an earthquake with his Pacha magic.”

  “Exactly. Her brother. Not her. You’ve assumed she’s a copy of her sibling.”

  I hate what he’s suggesting. “Why do you think she deserves your respect?”

  “She’s welcomed everyone back into the city, opened up the castillo, and housed those without homes. Fed them and clothed them. The new queen is accessible and, by all accounts, kind.”

  The words scrape at my edges. “Have you forgotten what they did to the Illari? Why you’re here in the first place?”

  He seems amused by this. “Do you mean a thousand years ago? Give or take a few years? Incredibly, I’ve let that slight go.”

  “My people were virtually trapped in a fortress, supplies scarce, for ten years. It was the only way to stay safe against the Llacsans, who were always on the verge of declaring war.”

  “But her brother died.” His next words are said gently. “Perhaps it’s time to move on.”

  “I promised my people I’d give them back their homes and their way of life before the revolt.” I wait for my usual anger to sweep through my body. But it doesn’t come. Instead my words are laced with a tired, sad note. “What about what I’ve lost? My parents were murdered. Am I just supposed to let that go? Forget that I’m the only one in my family who survived the Llacsan attack? All I’ve ever wanted is to go back to the way things were.”

  Back to when my life made sense. When I’d had parents and aunts and uncles and cousins. When my home wasn’t destroyed and I couldn’t wait to be a big sister. My mother was a month away from giving birth.

  “That’s a silly thing to promise. Time only moves forward. No one can go back.” He tilts his head. “Are you afraid of what will happen if you let go of your anger?”

  I want to lie to him, but this entire conversation is unsettling and surprising. “I don’t know if I understand your question,” I hedge.

  “Yes, you do. Without your anger, you’ll have to grieve the loss of your family.”

  My throat feels thick. “I think I liked you better when we were discussing your impending marriage.”

  He picks up a clay cup, takes a small sip. “I’d consider marriage to you if you proved to me and my people that you’d make a fine leader. Becoming a capable seer is a step in the right direction.”

  For a moment I can’t speak. He doesn’t know how badly I want to be the answer to my people’s troubles. Ximena didn’t believe I could rule. Sometimes I don’t think I can either. But his words spark something deep within me—the overwhelming urge to prove that I am capable, that I’m more than a sheltered girl, betrayed and banished.

  The Illari king continues. “If we’re to marry, you’d get your army outright.”

  I swallow hard. “Are you being serious? I can’t tell.”

  Sonco puts the cup down. “I value the role of seers in our city, but unfortunately we only have Chaska. Perhaps her descendants will have the same gift, but I’m worried nevertheless. Everything I do is for my people—to keep them safe, to keep them hidden. Our scouts travel beyond the jungle border, but having reliable seers will help gather information from within the city. I’d do anything not to risk Paititi. Even marry a condesa without her throne.”

  There’s a roaring in my ears. All I can think about is having an army to reclaim La Ciudad Blanca, my birthright. “And you’d really propose?”

  Sonco shrugs, his voice light. “I might.”

  CAPÍTULO

  Veintiséis

  The people of Paititi know how to live. The hours seem slow, and daily chores are finished by midmorning, followed by a long midday meal with their families. Children attend lessons in a group with experts in their fields, learning to weave and dye wool, and then in the late afternoon they train. All children are taught how to defend themselves with knives and arrows, axes and spears. Some of the children run around practicing shooting with their blow darts, nailing cockroaches scrambling across the dirt.

  It’s only later that I learn the darts are coated in poison.

  The day is sunny and warm, the air scented by the sweep of immense trees surrounding the base of the mountain. People are friendly, if a little wary, so I smile at every person who looks over at Sonco and me strolling on the paths, as if there weren’t a greater danger surrounding us. As if Manuel weren’t risking his life trying to help the Illari.

  Sonco and I walk through the market at a leisurely pace, and I admire the pretty beaded jewelry and woven mantillas. Several people are weaving long banners, and Sonco tells me they will be used as decorations for the fiesta. There’s a stall filled with sandals, and a pair catches my eye. I haven’t had new shoes in a long time, only the borrowed sandals and my worn leather boots. Ana said they were practical. But I adore pretty things, and the shoes people wear in Paititi are delicate and strappy, not meant for combat.

  “You like these?” Sonco holds up the ones I’m staring at. The leather is a warm amber hue, with pom-pom detailing near the ankle. When I nod, he says, “You ought to have them.”

  I grimace. “I haven’t any money—haven’t had any in a long time, actually.”

  He looks at the vendor and asks in Quechua, “What will you have in exchange for these?”

  The man is older, with heavily creased skin and graying hair. “You may have them free of charge.”

  Sonco smiles. “That’s kind but unnecessary.” He starts to remove the leather belt from around his waist, but the seller stops him.

  “I insist.”

  The Illari leader inclines his head then presents me with the shoes, the vendor grinning. An uncomfortable flutter sweeps through my body, like the scattering of leaves rustling against a stone floor. My time with Sonco has been surprisingly pleasant. If I somehow end up married to him, perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing.

  “Would you like to try them on?” Sonco asks, effectively jarring me from my thoughts.

  “Oh yes, of course.” I walk over to a stone bench, kick off the borrowed sandals, and try on my new ones.

  “Better?” Sonco asks.

  “So much,” I say.

  “Well, I do have things to take care of today.” His brow furrows. “But it would’ve been rude to leave without seeing you settled.”

  I shade my eyes from the sun’s fierce glare. “Leave?”

  “I’m going with a few others to collect the remains of those who didn’t make it back from the l
ast mission.” His voice drops to a hush. “If there are any, at least.”

  “But isn’t it much too dangerous to leave the safety of Paititi?” I’m surprised to hear myself asking about his welfare. “What if something were to happen to you?”

  “To lead is to serve my people. I won’t ask them to do something I wouldn’t do myself. My position doesn’t change the fact that Paititi is my home too. I will defend her with my breath and body and not hide behind walls.”

  Which is exactly what I’ve done all of my life. I’ve asked people to do things I wouldn’t or couldn’t do myself. I even had someone pretending to be me in order to keep me safe. Shame burns the whole way down to my belly. I try not to think of Manuel, try not to imagine his body broken and bleeding somewhere in the jungle. “How many have died so far?”

  He considers my question. “Your guard left with the group, did he not?”

  I nod.

  Sonco rearranges his face into a neutral expression, betraying nothing, but I don’t believe the sudden light tone he’s striving for. “Why don’t you enjoy the city? Someone will come around and invite you to dinner, I’m sure.” He turns to leave, but pauses. His voice drops to a shy whisper, and there’s a warm glint in his serious eyes. “I enjoyed our time together.”

  Then he walks off and I’m left wondering about that bashful quality in his voice. I would have preferred not to have heard it at all, preferred to keep things uncomplicated. I’d wanted to know exactly how much danger we were in.

  But the answer to how many people have died at the hands of the Illari’s nemesis remains a mystery.

  I spend most of the day in the market, talking to the various vendors. Several invite me over to chat. I’m given tiny figurines—wooden blocks carved into llamas and miniature buildings, even some shaped like corn. I’m told carrying them around will bring me good fortune—a baby, for the hope I’ll have a family one day; a building, so that I’ll always have a home to return to; and an ear of corn, so I’ll never go hungry. I’m not sure what the llama is for, but it’s darling, so I keep it. Who wouldn’t want a pet llama anyway?