by Lani Forbes
“Don’t heal the cut yet,” she whispered.
“Why? Planning on putting out more fires?” His eyebrows wiggled teasingly at her.
“I have a purpose.” Mayana turned her body away from him, hugging her hand to her chest, as Atanzah announced Yemania to the crowd.
“Yemania of the city of Pahtia, descendant of Ixtlilton, who sacrificed himself to create the Sixth Sun and save the Chicome from a terrible plague.”
Yemania slowly walked forward, stumbling a little on the hem of her long skirt.
Coatl suddenly stiffened, his eyes wide and full of concern as he took in the sight of his younger sister.
“I knew he would send her.” The anger in his voice surprised Mayana as he slammed a fist against the cushion beneath him. “He’s never appreciated her.”
“On that we can agree,” Mayana said.
Coatl gave her a sad smile.
Yemania’s eyes nervously peeked up at her brother and then back down to her feet. Her shoulders trembled, and Mayana rose to her feet again. Yemania hadn’t summoned her to help yet, but the daughter of healing needed her, just as she had needed Yemania’s prods in her back.
Mayana took her place silently beside Yemania and held out her hand with the crimson gash. Yemania sniffed loudly but took out a stingray spine and pricked her finger. Just as her great-aunt had done back in Atl, Yemania moved her hand over Mayana’s and the skin knit itself back together. Yemania’s display of power had easily been the least interesting so far. She had no confidence, no showmanship. Mayana’s heart ached for her, but also for herself. How was she supposed to encourage Yemania when doing so doomed her own chances? Mayana felt like a carcass caught between the jaws of two crocodiles pulling in opposite directions.
She flashed her healed palm to the prince so that he could see the new skin. He nodded his approval and thanked Yemania for her demonstration before dismissing them. The back of Mayana’s neck tingled. Was she imagining his eyes following her back to her seat?
“Lady Itza of Ehecatl, descendant of the god Ehecatl, the wind aspect of the god Quetzalcoatl, who sacrificed himself to create our current Seventh Sun.” Atanzah’s voice spiked slightly with excitement, and Mayana found herself instinctively leaning forward in anticipation of the final demonstration.
Itza swept forward, the rich purple fabric of her tunic billowing as though the wind itself was carrying her.
A servant scurried forward and littered the ground around her feet with white flower petals. White, the color of the god Quetzalcoatl. Mayana’s eyes focused on the cut across Itza’s palm. It still bled from dispelling the smoke and steam from the fire incident. The wind princess moved her hand in a small circle and the petals rose from the floor, twirling around in a miniature cyclone of her own creation. The white of the petals contrasted sharply with her dark hair and rich purple dress. Itza stepped into the funnel of wind and flowers and spread her arms wide, embracing the chaos around her with a look of pure serenity upon her face. The cyclone grew in size until it engulfed her, trapping her within her own private windstorm and whipping her hair and dress around her delicate frame. The fierceness in her eyes, the steadfast way she endured the tempest around her, sent a shiver up Mayana’s spine. She was powerful.
All too soon she lowered her arms and the petals fell softly back to the stone floor. Itza gave a quick bow to the prince. His eyes were wide, but he nodded and motioned for her to join the other princesses. The matchmaker leaned over to Ahkin and whispered something in his ear. Itza took a seat on the cushion at Mayana’s other side, opposite from Yemania.
Prince Ahkin stood, and the chatter in the room silenced.
“Welcome, daughters of the noble families, direct descendants of the gods who gave us life.” His deep voice reverberated around the feast.
“I will now lead us in a sacrifice to bless our meal. May Ometeotl bless this selection process and help me choose the empress who will make you most proud.”
The room filled with cheering and he made his way toward the still-smoking pit where Zorrah had tried to burn the jaguar. He paused at the edge, an amused smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“Daughter of Papatlaca, would you mind assisting us with the sacrificial fire?”
Yoli’s stomach-churning smile made Mayana look away. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to watch her spear herself in the arm again. The fire princess must have pulled the flames from some nearby torch because by the time Mayana deemed it safe to look again, the embers of the sacrificial fire had been relit. A young man wearing a jaguar pelt, a relative of Zorrah’s, had materialized beside the prince with an elegant toucan perched upon his arm. The bird held itself with a peaceful grace, the glossy black feathers glinting in the reflected light of the fire.
Prince Ahkin took his knife out from his waistband and lifted it toward the bird’s throat. Mayana sucked in a breath.
Zorrah’s eyes shot to her.
Mayana ducked her head, tears filling her eyes, and blinked furiously, trying to force them back where they came from. The strangled cry of the toucan was cut short and the sputtering of flames told her the prince had finished the sacrifice. Mayana brought her eyes back up and took in two things that sent her stomach plummeting to her feet. Blood dripped off the prince’s hand onto the smooth stone floor, and Zorrah was looking at her with a deadly smile that curled with an air of triumph. She had obviously noticed Mayana’s reaction to the sacrifice.
The meal seemed to drag on forever, especially as Mayana tried to avoid Zorrah’s taunting stares throughout most of it. She knew the princess of beasts was trying her hardest to intimidate her. When the servants finally cleared away the last of the bowls and serving vessels, the noble daughters were asked to remain in the hall while the rest of the guests filed out.
“You will have the rest of the day to explore the city and make yourselves at home in the palace,” Atanzah told them, picking at her teeth. “The next task will be assigned to you tomorrow at midday. Please make sure you are back inside before curfew.” She dismissed them with a wave of her hand.
“What are you going to do?” Yemania asked, gripping Mayana’s elbow in panic. Mayana quickly turned them around the corner and away from the prowling eyes of Zorrah.
“I haven’t decided yet. Someone told me about the beautiful pleasure gardens of Tollan. I’d probably like to see those before I die.” Mayana meant it to be funny, but she regretted her frankness the moment Yemania blanched.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” She put her hand over Yemania’s.
“I don’t know how you can speak so bluntly about your own death,” the other girl whispered. Her eyes darted back and forth.
“It’s probably just my way of handling the stress.” Mayana shrugged. “I promise I am just as terrified as you are.”
Yemania gave her a watery smile.
Strolling arm in arm, they walked absently through one of the large courtyards. Innumerable rooms used for various administrative needs encircled several expansive courtyards, while at the far end of the main courtyard, raised high above on a towering set of steps, sat the mazelike residence of the royal family. As in her father’s main palace, the lower-level rooms were used mainly for political purposes: meeting rooms for nobility, courtrooms, armories, storage areas.
Mayana didn’t even know where to begin to explore.
“Let’s ask a servant where the gardens are,” Yemania suggested. “Or we could see one of the aviaries.”
“No birds …” Mayana said, rubbing her eyes with her free hand, trying to dispel the memory of blood dripping from Ahkin’s hands.
Yemania stopped walking and yanked Mayana backward by her arm into an alcove between two towering pillars painted the color of jade.
“Yemania! What—?”
“What happened with the jaguar, really?” She crossed her arms across
her ample bosom, reminding Mayana so forcefully of her great-aunt Nemi that she had to stifle a laugh.
“I—told everyone. It is the month of the bird, so …” But she couldn’t meet Yemania’s eyes.
“Then why couldn’t you even watch the prince sacrifice the toucan? You looked like he was about to murder a member of your family.”
Mayana bit her lower lip. Had it been that obvious? She knew Zorrah had noticed, but not Yemania.
Flicking a rock on the ground with her foot, Mayana looked determinedly away.
“I just—I couldn’t—its eyes, couldn’t you just see the pain in its eyes?”
“It was a sacrifice,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I know. It’s just …” How did she put into words what she was feeling? “I hate sacrificing animals. I can almost never do it myself back home.” Mayana hung her head in defeat.
“But the gods demand blood. Our divine power comes from exposing our blood.” Again, Yemania’s voice was flat, as though Mayana was stupid for not understanding.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why, though?”
Yemania’s eyebrows shot up.
“Because the codex tells us. The gods sacrificed themselves to save us. We owe them blood. You should know this better than anyone, Mayana. You are a noble. Your blood itself is from the gods.” Her voice sounded almost pleading.
“Exactly. They already paid the price to save us. Why do we have to keep paying? If they loved us enough to die for us, surely they wouldn’t—”
Yemania held up a hand to silence her.
“What you are saying disrespects the gods and everything that we believe as a people. Do you think you know better than the codex? The holy texts given to us by the gods thousands of years ago?”
Mayana dropped her chin. Yemania sounded exactly like her father. Exactly like everyone else in her life that she had ever had the courage to voice her opinions to. Everyone except her mother.
“Have you studied the codices themselves, Yemania? I mean, physically held the folded sheets of paper in your hands?”
“No, our tutors taught us.”
“My mother encouraged me to study them for myself and—” Mayana hesitated. She had never shared her reasons for questioning the rituals with anyone since she voiced her concerns to her father once as a young girl. He had not exactly responded well.
“Stop.” Yemania’s eyes were wide with fear. “I don’t know where you are going with this, but I recommend you stop there. You sound like a heretic from Ehecatl. If you are questioning the validity of the codex …”
“No.” Mayana crossed her own arms over her chest. Her traitorous eyes suddenly blurred with tears again. “I believe in the gods, that the Mother loves us and let her children die for us. But I guess I just struggle to believe she would demand blood in return. Love does not hold grudges or demand payment. What if the rituals are just our own superstitions? To make us feel like we have some kind of control over our own fate? I don’t know. I only know what my heart tells me. I can’t help it.”
“Your heart is yours. You control it, not the other way around.”
“Well maybe they can cut it out of me, Yemania, and burn it as a sacrifice when they kill us both.” Anger and frustration seeped into her tone.
Yemania stepped back as if Mayana had slapped her, tears swimming in her eyes.
“Don’t!” She stomped her foot in frustration. “I can’t stand thinking about …about …” She threw her head in her hands and her shoulders shook with heart-wrenching sobs.
Mayana immediately regretted her defensiveness. She wrapped her arms around Yemania, longing to correct the effects of her outburst.
“I’m sorry,” Mayana whispered in her ear. “I didn’t mean that.”
Yemania continued to cry. Several servants carrying baskets eyed them nervously as they passed the alcove. Mayana waved them on with silent gestures.
“Yemania.” Mayana tried to soothe her by rubbing her back gently. “I have been reminded by my family every day of my life how I disrespect the gods, how my heart does nothing but cause trouble—” Her voice broke. “It just hurt me to hear it again. I try so hard, and it never seems to be enough. I am never enough.”
“I don’t want to die, Mayana, but I believe in the rituals. I believe they protect us. My heart fights as much as yours, but I am here. I will do what needs to be done. You think it requires bravery to question the rituals, but it takes just as much to obey them when everything inside you doesn’t want to.”
Mayana froze, Yemania’s words piercing through her. Did she struggle with the rituals because she didn’t like them? Or because of a fear of doing what was necessary? Was she questioning their validity out of selfishness? Mayana honestly didn’t know the answer to that.
“Come on, let’s find the aviary.” Mayana bent down, trying to peek at Yemania’s face between her fingers.
Yemania lifted her head, eyes red and swollen.
“I think I’m going to go back to my room. I need some time to myself.”
Mayana’s smile faltered.
“Maybe we can go to the aviary together later this afternoon,” Yemania added. The daughter of healing squeezed her hand for reassurance before turning and slumping her way toward the royal residences.
Chapter
18
Mayana let out a huff of breath and ran her hands through her long hair. Her mind was jumbled, and thoughts stuck to the inside of her skull like flies caught in a pitcher plant. Mayana needed to wash them out. Water. She needed to find water.
She wandered down a hallway in a daze, trying to decide which way to go.
“Daughter of Atl,” called a sweet, melodious voice.
Mayana turned to find a young woman immaculately dressed in the traditional white cotton of Tollan. She was no servant, though. Golden jewelry dripped like honey from her wrists, neck, and earlobes. A headband encrusted with pearlescent gemstones held back her thick, dark hair. Mayana recognized the beautifully angular features as one of the faces that had been seated close to the prince at breakfast.
“I’m Metzi,” she said, inclining her head in a smooth graceful bow. “Ahkin’s twin sister and princess of Tollan.”
Mayana swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. Metzi was as beautiful as Ahkin was godlike. It was an otherworldly beauty that should not have been possible for mere mortals. She moved with an effortless grace, and a hint of light hung about her, making her skin glow like the moon. Her hair flowed down in ebony cascades across the sultry curves of her body. Jealousy pricked like sharp bee stings in her chest before Mayana realized that as Ahkin’s sister, she posed no threat.
“You look lost,” she said, cocking her head slightly to the side. “Can I help you find whatever you are looking for?”
“The—the gardens,” Mayana managed to say.
“Ah. I imagine you want to see the fountains.” Metzi gave her a warm, knowing smile. Mayana’s frantic heartbeat slowed slightly.
“I do.” Mayana couldn’t help it, she returned the smile.
“They are behind the royal residence halls. Go around this way.” She flourished a graceful hand down an adjacent hallway. “And follow the courtyard back behind the high walls. You can’t miss the gardens. They encompass the entire back wall of the palace.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Mayana gave her a small bow in gratitude.
Metzi considered her thoughtfully for a moment. Mayana fidgeted nervously with the bracelets on her wrist, refusing to make eye contact.
“I think you were incredibly brave this morning,” Metzi finally said.
Mayana’s heart swelled, overflowing with hope. “Really? You don’t think I was disrespectful?”
“On the contrary. I found your dedication to the calendar inspiring. You were quite right to ensure that a proper sacrifice be given in acco
rdance with the signs in the stars. Even though it was not a designated ritual in the codex, it should be held to no lower standards than a ritualistic sacrifice. Lady Zorrah should have chosen a bird for her demonstration.”
Mayana’s smile became fixed. Her cheeks ached with the effort of keeping her face from falling in disappointment. Metzi thought her overly dedicated to the rituals. Was that what everyone else thought too? Prince Ahkin included?
Not Yemania and Zorrah, unfortunately. How was she supposed to keep up a facade like that?
“I think my brother would be lucky to find another soul as devoted to our rules as you seem to be.” Metzi gave her a teasing wink that she obviously thought would be encouraging.
The back of Mayana’s neck grew hot and she longed to run. Yes, Mayana had managed to turn her mishap with the jaguar around to her benefit, but she seriously doubted she would be able to hide her dislike for the sacrifices much longer. Could she ignore the pull of her heartstrings? Cut them free and submit herself to the supposed will of the gods? Her brother doubted her ability. So did her father. Could she prove them wrong? Did she even want to?
“Well, we all must honor the rituals.” Mayana shrugged her shoulders. She hoped she didn’t sound as fake to Metzi as she did to herself.
“My mother also dedicated herself to the rituals with impressive devotion. Unfortunately, that is why she is no longer with us to meet you herself.” Metzi’s tone was causal and light, but Mayana’s ears pricked at the slight hint of sadness.
“Your mother took her life to join your father in the underworld?”
“Yes,” Metzi said simply, her attention suddenly focused somewhere off in the distance.
“I’m sorry,” Mayana said.
Metzi sniffed and blinked several times in quick succession before turning her attention back to Mayana. “Well, women in positions such as ours are left with little choice. Our paths are often determined for us.”
Mayana didn’t really know how to respond. She knew exactly how it felt to have her choices taken away from her. After all, given the choice, she would be back home in Atl swimming in the rivers and not worrying about how she was going to be sacrificed to the gods.
