by Lani Forbes
“So, you are from the volcano? What’s that like?” Mayana tried to at least make polite conversation. Perhaps it would be better to have one less enemy here in the capital, even if they were still competing to sentence each other to die.
“Hot.” Yemania and Mayana both waited for her to elaborate, but Yoli didn’t.
She smirked with a look of satisfaction at their confused faces, like she enjoyed being difficult.
“Your city-state makes our weapons, doesn’t it?” Mayana pressed. “I know obsidian comes from the liquid fire in the volcano.”
“That’s us.” Yoli curled her lip mischievously. “So what’s Atl like, daughter of water?”
“Wet.” Mayana teased, playing Yoli’s game of being irritatingly vague.
“I knew I liked you.” She gave her a genuine smile this time.
Mayana couldn’t help it, she laughed. This terrifyingly morbid girl from a mountain that oozed fire wasn’t as scary as she seemed.
“So, what are we supposed to do with these beans?” Yoli held out her own small bag.
“We could put them together, perhaps?” Yemania suggested.
“How would we each get gifts then?”
Yemania’s shoulders sagged.
“Too bad we aren’t friends with the plant princess,” Mayana said. “Or else we’d be able to grow more and just buy whatever we want.”
“Good point, maybe I should have followed her after all,” Yoli said. “Never mind. I think I’d strangle her with her own vines before she got the chance to sprout a single cacao pod.”
Mayana snorted.
“Maybe we should split up and see what we can find?” Yemania nervously chewed her lip. Mayana had a feeling she just wanted to get away from Yoli but couldn’t think how else to do it.
“Alright,” Mayana said. “We probably should do this task on our own anyway.” She winked at Yemania when Yoli turned her head.
Thank you, Yemania mouthed behind Yoli’s back.
Poor Yemania. Mayana couldn’t think of a way for the two of them to stay together without excluding Yoli. She actually didn’t mind the company of the fire princess now that she had seen a little more of who she was, but if Yemania was still scared of her, she would do what she could to help her friend.
They split their separate ways, and she sighed, unsure of where to go or even how to start. Water could not earn her more money, so she would have to do something with the ten beans she had. Or maybe she could trade one of her jade bracelets?
The plaza in Tollan was twice the size of the market in Atl. Thousands of citizens from all over the empire milled about between the wooden stalls. Everything was on sale, from freshly grown produce to blankets and clothing, dyes and herbs, basic clay pottery and delicate ceramic serving vessels. Live monkeys, birds, and dogs in wooden cages filled the stalls with noise. Baskets overflowed with animal pelts and freshly caught fish, while racks and shelves boasted jewelry and bright feathers from exotic jungle birds.
She rolled the fabric bag around in her hand and bounced a little on her toes, anxious to go somewhere but not sure at all where that somewhere might be.
Out of nowhere, something heavy fell onto her shoulder. The warm, musky scent of fur enveloped her before the beans were snatched out of her hand. She threw her arms up to dislodge the creature, but it leapt off her as quickly as it had appeared.
Straightening, she batted the hair that hung disheveled across her face. Tan-and-white fur covered the long, lanky body of a squirrel monkey, its bright yellow hands clutching the small bag of cacao beans. Little beast. This was exactly why she hated monkeys.
“Give that back.” She lunged for the monkey and it danced out of her reach, a small pink tongue protruding from between its dark lips. The liquid brown eyes taunted her as it let out a screech and disappeared over the straw roof of one of the nearest houses.
Mayana’s pulse pounded behind her ears as her chest heaved. She wanted to hunt the little creature down and steal her beans back, but she would never catch it. The monkey was acting on someone’s behalf. She did not have to think hard to guess who. Zorrah had found a way to use her ability with beasts to increase her earnings. She prayed Yemania and Yoli would not become the monkey’s next victims.
“Next time, hold the beans a little tighter,” a gravelly voice said behind her.
An older woman with a face as creased as mud cracks in a riverbed hobbled down the pathway. She was short, much shorter than Mayana, and her shoulders hunched over a crooked, spindly walking stick. The crone was dressed in a tunic dress and shawl that swirled in contrasting colors of white and black, matching her hair exactly. Strands of light and dark were pulled together into a knot that perched on the top of her head like an owl on a branch.
Mayana reached out and caught the frail woman as she stumbled forward, tripping over the uneven pavement. The cane clattered onto the stones and Mayana bent to retrieve it for her. Her heart lurched in pity.
“Thank you.” The old woman exhaled and leaned heavily on her walking stick while Mayana helped to steady her. “Are you lost, young one? Why are you wandering the streets of the city alone?”
“I’m not lost. I was just trying to … find a gift. For a friend. Someone important. But that monkey just …”
“Stole every bean you have.” Her face split into a toothy grin.
“Yes.” Mayana let her breath out in a huff and resisted the urge to stomp her foot in frustration.
“If it is a gift you are searching for, I might be able to help you.” The old woman picked at a spot on her wrinkled chin.
“I don’t have any way to pay.”
“Nonsense. You show kindness to an old woman and she will show you kindness in return.” She grabbed Mayana by the elbow and led her away from the crowds toward a wood-framed doorway in a squat stucco building. A massive ceiba tree towered over the structure, casting it in dark shadow.
Mayana’s instincts told her to run, but the bony fingers were strong and firm.
“No really, I don’t—”
“Yoco,” the woman said. “You may call me Yoco.”
“Alright. Thank you, Yoco, but I need—” Mayana’s mouth dropped open as she crossed the threshold into a low, small room that smelled like freshly cut herbs. Every surface was covered in dolls. Dolls as large as her forearm down to dolls as tiny as a fingernail. Some were woven from wool, others were made from folded and colored paper. The clothes they wore were as varied as a rainbow. Her eyes widened at the abundance of color and patterns.
“What are these?” Mayana picked up the nearest doll made from wool. She fingered the geometric patterns woven into the bright blue-and-yellow dress. It had slanting black thread for eyes and a tiny little red mouth like a chili pepper.
“Worry dolls,” Yoco croaked. “Does your friend have many worries?”
Mayana laughed a little hysterically.
“Don’t we all?”
“Indeed, we do.” Yoco sighed. “The legends of the first people speak of a princess presented with a gift from the gods. It was a doll said to be able to solve any problem or worry a human could have.”
Mayana nodded, not looking up. She had heard the story from her mother many times as a child. She even had a worry doll once. She had been a rather nervous and sensitive child and her mother thought it would be good for her. Her heart skipped at the memory of the tiny thumb-sized doll she had grown up with. She wondered what had happened to it.
Yoco gave her a knowing smile.
“Would you like one for your prince?”
Mayana’s stomach twisted and she dropped the doll she was holding. She immediately stooped to pick it up again.
“My prince?”
“I know who you are, daughter of Atl, princess of water and descendant of Atlacoya.” Yoco listed her head to the side, appraising her.
A drop of sweat ran slowly down Mayana’s spine, making her shiver. She licked her dry lips before answering. “How do you know who I am?”
“I saw you arrive. You were covered in mud and looked like a skittish little deer running from hunters. My heart broke for you.”
Mayana swallowed, her vision swimming with traitorous tears. The people watching her arrive had judged her. They thought she was weak, disheveled … destined to be sacrificed.
“I should go.” Mayana placed the doll back onto the basket she had picked it up from and turned to leave. She didn’t need this woman’s pity.
“That is your choice, but I think this is exactly what you are looking for.” Yoco drew her shawl tighter around her stooped shoulders.
Mayana paused midstep and turned to face her. How could this woman have any idea what she was looking for? She didn’t even know herself.
“I don’t think the prince would want a doll made for a child.”
“The choice is yours to make, my dear. But who says my dolls are made for children? You do not have worries, princess? Do you think the prince himself does not have burdens?”
Mayana picked the doll back up and contemplated it. Maybe the best gift to give wasn’t going to be something grand and expensive. Maybe the prince needed something personal, something that would speak to his heart. The pain within his eyes as he spoke of his parents was obvious. She knew of his responsibilities to raise the sun, to protect their people from Miquitz, and now to choose a wife and doom the other princesses to death. If it were her, she would drown under such a flood of worries. The longer she gazed into the plain, loving face of the doll, the more certain she felt. Yoco was right. A worry doll was exactly what she was looking for. Though the doll was only the size of her thumb, its demure little face looked hopeful, like it was already taking care of your deepest worries.
Her intuition flickered and suddenly she knew without a doubt. “I will take a doll after all.”
“A wise choice, my dear. Now we can discuss the method of payment.”
Her stomach dropped. Payment? Hadn’t the old woman said that she would show her kindness?
“Oh, I thought …”
“Helping you choose the gift is a kindness. You still have to pay for it.”
“How am I supposed to pay for it? You saw the monkey took every bean I had.”
“Let’s just say you will owe me a favor.” Yoco winked. Mayana hesitated, rankling at the request. But what choice did she have at this point? She could either return with a doll or nothing at all, and she highly doubted the prince would appreciate nothing. Besides, she didn’t want to return a failure.
“Alright.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and hoped she wasn’t making a promise she’d later regret.
Chapter
21
Ahkin paced the length of the room three times before returning to the golden throne. He jostled his knees up and down and slapped the armrests impatiently. Where were they? Shouldn’t they be back by now?
“Good gods, Ahkin, you are making me nervous. Just sit still.” Metzi dug her teeth into the creamy flesh of an avocado. The crowd of nobles and honored guests gathered below the dais chattered away in anticipation of the night’s meal and the princesses’ gifts.
Ahkin placed his hands on his knees and pressed them down, attempting to quell the energy coursing through him. He was going to see her again. He couldn’t wait to see her again.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” Metzi said through a full mouth, leaning back on her cushion. “Could my brother have a favorite already?”
Ahkin glared at her and leaned over to grab the avocado out of her hand.
“Hey, that’s mine.” Metzi shoved him back playfully.
Ahkin raised an eyebrow and took a large bite out of the fruit before tossing it back to his twin with a smirking grin.
She clucked her tongue in mock disgust.
“You ruin everything.”
“It’s a brother’s job.”
“It’s also a brother’s job to provide his sister with a sister-in-law,” she teased.
Ahkin rolled his eyes.
“Are we ready, my lord?” Atanzah strode into the room with her hands neatly folded in front of her. “The daughters are almost ready to present their gifts.”
Ahkin’s hands tapped against the armrests again, a short, fast rhythm like rain upon the palace roof. Finally. “Yes, I am ready.”
“Hurry and bring them in before my brother bruises his hands,” Metzi drawled lazily.
Atanzah nodded and readjusted her shawl before leaving to fetch the princesses. When she returned, they followed behind her like ducklings in the wake of a brightly colored mother duck. Ahkin shifted in his seat and leaned forward, his gaze immediately drawn to Mayana.
Mayana. The daughter of water and rainbows. The girl who had blazed into his life like the flaming red comet in the heavens. She demanded his attention with her outspoken dedication to their calendar, with such devotion to their rituals. The kind of devotion his mother had had. He could not forget her look of fierce determination as she summoned the water to douse the sacrificial fire, or the joy that had radiated from her as she watched the rainbows dance. Light and water make something beautiful, she had said.
But then, not only had she emanated life and spirit, she had the courage to rip away every pretext and speak straight to his heart. No one, not even Metzi, had asked him if he missed his parents. The empathy and compassion that had shone within her eyes stirred something within him he didn’t quite recognize. He only knew he was drawn to her, like a moth to the flame of a torch. It was almost enough to distract him from the worries that incessantly tugged at his consciousness. Almost.
“Ladies, you will, in turn, present your chosen gifts to Prince Ahkin and explain the reasoning behind your choice.”
He hadn’t been sure what to expect from this particular trial. Atanzah had suggested it, arguing that whatever wedding gift the girls chose to give him would say a great deal about their characters. Ahkin had suggested adding the difficulty of limiting their funds. He wanted to see how creative they could be. One of his great-grandfathers had selected his empress after seeing her create a beautiful cloak after having been given only scraps to work with.
“Please continue.” Ahkin waved a hand to begin, and Metzi gave a giggle of excitement. Cups clattered against wood as the many gathered nobles put down their drinks of pulque and cacao, attention now turned toward Ahkin. The princesses had formed a line up the center of the room before his throne, waiting to make their presentations.
“Lady Yemania of Pahtia,” Atanzah announced, and the plump young woman with a rather unfortunate nose stumbled forward. Ahkin had hardly any memory of her from the night before, except that she had healed Mayana’s palm. His focus had been on the daughter of water, not the daughter of healing. In Yemania’s hands, she held a small plant in an equally small clay pot.
“That’s Coatl’s sister,” Metzi whispered in his ear. A twinge of sadness pricked at his throat as he realized he might have to sentence his friend’s sister to death.
Ahkin shushed his twin and batted her away like an irritating fly. Metzi stuck out her tongue at him and flumped back onto her pillow, crossing her arms.
“Fine, I can be quiet.”
“That, I seriously doubt.” But he lifted the corner of his mouth into a half smile.
He turned his attention back to Yemania, who stood frozen before him, her cheeks as red as her tunic dress. She looked nothing like her handsome brother. Was Coatl afraid for his sister? Could that be why he suddenly seemed so distant?
“I … I … bring my lord leaves of aloe,” she said, her voice barely above a tremulous whisper.
“Thank you, daughter of Pahtia. Why have you chosen aloe as your gift to your future emperor?” His voice sounded deeper than u
sual from the formality of his address.
“Aloe has many known healing properties, especially for … sunburns. And as the lord of the sun, one never knows when aloe might be handy.”
Ahkin smiled appreciatively as the crowd tittered and snorted in laughter. Even Coatl smiled in relief, though the healer wouldn’t meet his eyes. What a clever gift. Not that sunburns were ever an issue for him, but he appreciated her thoughtfulness. His eyes wandered to Mayana, who gave Yemania a smile that glowed with pride. She seemed genuinely happy for the princess of Pahtia. A surge of warmth spread across his skin. Mayana’s compassion was as evident as the sun was bright.
Atanzah announced the tiny storm princess. “Princess Itza of Ehecatl.”
She was pretty, her small stature giving almost the impression of a bird, delicate and fragile. Her face spoke the opposite. He admired the warrior-like strength emanating from behind her eyes.
“I bring you a feather, my lord. In honor of the god Quetzalcoatl, who gave us all life and will someday return to the world he helped create.”
Atanzah nodded approvingly, a wide smile crinkling her already wrinkled skin as she studied the princess of wind. He suspected Atanzah had already selected her favorite. Ahkin ground his teeth together at the thought. He had no desire to be so intimately connected with the city of Ehecatl, even if his father had arranged such a marriage for Metzi.
The presentations continued. Ahkin found himself distracted, waiting for the moment when Mayana would present her gift to him. He had to remind himself to be gracious as he received a glittering geode from the princess of fire, a headpiece of multicolored feathers from the animal princess, and a beautiful gold pendant inlaid with jade gemstones from Teniza of Millacatl. Teniza must have used her gift to acquire more cacao beans. Couldn’t the princess have been a little more creative? Leave it to Millacatl to flaunt their excessive wealth.
He couldn’t explain it, but none of the other princesses held the same interest for him as Mayana did. He hadn’t really given the other girls much of a chance, but something about the princess of Atl drew him in. Perhaps it was her courageous commitment to their rituals, or her obvious insight and compassion toward those around her? Either way, something about her seemed to emanate passion and conviction in a way that inspired him to do the same.
