by Lani Forbes
Mayana stumbled back, the burning sensation in her lower leg spreading, throbbing with each beat of her frantic heart.
The scorpion was as large as her hand at least. It scuttled toward her upon its many legs, as though determined to continue its attack.
Mayana screamed again and backed herself into her baskets of clothing, stumbling over them and falling onto her backside. Her hands groped among the crinkly woven fibers and soft clothing until her fingers closed around something solid and metal. She lifted the hideous half-sun headpiece her aunts had packed for her and brought it down with a sickening crunch on top of the scorpion’s shining, dark shell.
Heart thundering, Mayana sank back into the mess of clothing and shattered baskets, arching her back and gritting her teeth at the pain surging through every nerve of her body. What kind of scorpion had that been? How had it gotten in her room? More importantly, was it poisonous?
Mayana could feel the skin of her leg swelling and stretching tight where the barb had pierced her skin. The burning sensation continued, but now Mayana started to notice a throbbing in her head. Her ears felt as if someone had stuffed them full of cotton. The tips of her fingers started to feel numb, and nausea roiled her stomach.
Definitely poisonous, then. She had to get help immediately. The poison was already flooding through her system, especially with having been stung three times. She tried to push herself to her feet, but her arms were made of water, and her legs were no better. Mayana wobbled dangerously and fell hard on her side.
Terror sharper than the scorpion’s barb pierced her heart. If she didn’t get help, she was going to die. All her dreams for the future seemed to crumble through her fingers like sand. It couldn’t end like this. It wasn’t fair.
Mayana thrust out a hand and clawed at the woven mat beneath her, dragging herself forward. The door. She had to get to the door.
“Help!” Her scream ripped through her dry throat.
Using her good leg, Mayana continued her clumsy, sluggish movements across the floor. Whimpers and cries of pain escaped her with every inch she gained. She was almost to the curtain. Her tongue was numb and swollen, and her head felt like a heavy stone. She wanted more than anything to just stop moving. But she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to live to see the morning.
With each strain of effort, Mayana could feel her strength fading. She wasn’t going to make it. She would die here on the floor and Atanzah would find her body in the morning.
The edges of her vision started to go dark, but she continued to fight. Mayana pushed back against the darkness, back against the pain and exhaustion, but it wasn’t enough. Her fingertips were just inches from the blue fabric of the curtain when the last of her strength left her and the world faded to blackness.
Chapter
27
“My lord, I mean you no disrespect, but you seem—distracted.” Yaotl, the commander of the Jaguar warriors, knocked the prince to the ground with an almighty sweep of his thick arm. Ahkin landed hard on his back, the wind whooshing from his lungs as his shield and macana sword skidded across the dirt. His pride seemed to leave along with his breath.
“What do you mean?” Ahkin coughed and rubbed his chest as he clambered back to his feet.
Yaotl lifted his wooden eagle helmet and mopped back the sweat that drenched his heavily lidded brow. Ahkin was pretty sure the older man had never smiled a day in his life.
“Your sparring is usually cleaner than this. You are sloppy.”
“Let’s go again.” Ahkin shifted his shoulders up and down. He steadied his footing and lifted his shield and the flattened wood club inlaid with sharp edges of obsidian.
“No, I am afraid I would damage your pretty face before your wedding. Enough melee. If you insist on practicing, we can work with the bow.”
Ahkin lowered his shield. Yaotl had trained him since he was a little boy and knew him better than anyone besides Metzi. As the most elite member of the Jaguar warriors, Yaotl officially possessed the title of fiercest warrior in the entire Chicome kingdom. He had captured more enemies than any other soldier—the fastest way for any peasant to rise to the status of nobility. The noble families bid and competed for the best warriors to sponsor their sons through training, but as the son of the emperor, Ahkin had secured the best mentor available. He had followed in Yaotl’s shadow, learning and watching and eventually emulating him on the battlefield.
Yaotl was dressed in accordance with his status, a jaguar coat draped across his shoulders and his headband adorned with red, blue, and yellow feathers. His massive stature made him intimidating and fearsome even to Ahkin, who had seen the man in battle on many occasions.
Ahkin himself had captured only two Miquitz enemies, but he was well on his way to achieving the level of respect Yaotl commanded.
“You have decided which girl to marry, then?” Yaotl retrieved two large bows from a nearby basket along with a quiver of flint-tipped arrows.
“How do you know that’s where my head is?” Ahkin grabbed the long wood bow strung with animal sinew and nocked an arrow. The back of his neck warmed at the thought of discussing women with his mentor.
“You may be the prince, but you are still a man, and nothing distracts a man more than a woman.”
“Are you married, Yaotl?” Ahkin had never thought to ask him, after all these years.
“I am, my lord,” he grunted in response.
“And … when did you know? That your wife was the girl you wished to marry?”
“I had known her since we were children. We grew up in the city together. I watched her turn from an awkward child into the beautiful creature she is now, and there is no one on Ometeotl’s creation who knows me better.”
“Hmm.” Ahkin tensed his arm as he pulled back the bowstring and released the shark-tooth arrow toward the trees. It whistled past the trunk of the tree he had been aiming for. Ahkin lowered the bow with a frown.
“It happens to the best of us.” Yaotl ripped the bow from his grip, a wide smile spreading across his face.
Yes, perhaps it did happen to the best of them. Ahkin rubbed the back of his neck, dumbfounded that Yaotl had actually smiled for a change. Speaking of his own wife seemed to be the one arrow that could pierce through the general’s toughened skin. “Fine, I think I need a break for the time being. How is the situation faring at the borders?”
Ahkin sensed the tension harden in Yaotl. There was something his commander was hiding. Did he think he could not handle it?
“What? What have you not told me?”
“I did not wish to add to the burdens already plaguing you until I have a plan of action to recommend.”
“I am the future emperor. I need to be made aware of any and all situations.” Ahkin crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his mentor. “I know you care to protect me, but I am no longer just an apprentice.”
Yaotl considered him for a moment before consenting.
“Forgive me, my prince. The Miquitz seem to be more … restless than usual. They have conducted more raids for human sacrifices over the last few weeks than they ever have in the past. I wonder if they are planning a massive ceremony of some kind. What is most unusual is that they seem to be taking peasants and farmers as well as warriors.”
Ahkin pinched the bridge of his nose. Several raids? Peasants and farmers too? How many Chicome citizens had been captured without his knowledge? Ahkin slapped his palm against his forehead. He had been too busy running his hands over the smooth curves of a beautiful girl to ask about the state of the kingdom, and now his people were paying with their lives. Perhaps he was as young and foolish as everyone else seemed to think.
“Where is this happening?”
“Millacatl, mostly. Just outside the maize fields at the base of the mountains. I think the passage there is the easiest way for them to come down into the valley.”
&
nbsp; “And you are unsure how best to proceed?”
“My first instinct is to attack them. Head on. Capture their warriors, sacrifice them to Huitzilopochtli and show them the might of the Chicome. Show them that your ancestor was not only the god of the sun but also the god of war.” Yaotl’s voice was a growl.
Ahkin’s heart thrummed with pride, like a drum in battle. Yes. He would show the Miquitz exactly what they could expect from his leadership. Maybe he could convince himself of that in the process.
“Send the notices to our armies. I want a battalion ready to depart in two days for Millacatl.”
“With pleasure, my prince.”
Yaotl inclined his head, but then jerked his face up, ears pricked like a dog catching a sound.
Ahkin recognized the hurried slapping of sandals against stone. Yaotl stepped in front of the prince, a living shield, but it was an unnecessary precaution as Atanzah huffed into view. Her round face was ruddy and shining with a sheen of sweat.
“My—my lord. I had to come right away.” Atanzah’s hand yanked at her shawl to keep it from falling off her shoulders.
Apprehension settled over Ahkin like a morning mist, making the back of his neck tingle. What more could go wrong today?
“One of the princesses was stung by a poisonous scorpion.”
Ahkin’s stomach writhed as if he had swallowed a snake. “Who?” he asked, though the feeling in his stomach told him he already knew the answer. The gods were determined to punish him for his weakness.
“The daughter of Atl, my lord.”
Mayana. All thoughts of the Miquitz, of the sun dying, of losing his parents faded as her face swam before his eyes. No. Not her. Please let her live. She had been the only ray of hope and light piercing through a dark cloud cover. He needed her.
“Is she …?”
“She is still alive, my lord.” The darkening clouds gathering in his mind thinned.
“Where is she? What happened?”
“The daughter of Pahtia found her on the floor of her room, minutes from death. She healed her as best she could before summoning Coatl. The girl is resting in Coatl’s quarters as we speak.”
Relief as warm as a bowl of pulque spread to the tips of Ahkin’s fingers.
“Yaotl, please proceed with our plans for notifying the warriors to prepare for battle. I need to—”
“Go.” Yaotl nodded toward the hallway. “Your mind is already with her anyway.”
Ahkin gave his best soldier an apologetic smile before sprinting out of the courtyard, leaving Atanzah to shuffle along behind him.
Chapter
28
Ahkin ran up the steps to the royal residences, taking two at a time. When he finally reached the doorway of Coatl’s room, he wrenched the red curtain aside without bothering to announce himself.
Mayana was lying on a woven mat with a cushion propped under her dark hair. Her head thrashed from side to side, eyes closed and brow damp with perspiration. The breaths escaping her lips sounded ragged and harsh. Ahkin didn’t understand. Hadn’t Atanzah said she was healed? Why did she still seem so ill?
Coatl sat hunched at her side, holding her still as he applied some kind of salve to the massive swelling on her lower leg.
“Coatl!” Ahkin meant his voice to sound forceful, authoritative. Instead it trembled with anxiety. “What’s wrong with her? What … what’s happening?”
He rushed forward and cradled Mayana’s head in his hands as her eyes rolled and fluttered under her eyelids, unseeing. He rubbed a thumb gently across her warm cheek, panicked at the fever scorching her skin. Her head continued to loll between his hands, and the muscles of her arms and legs twitched as though she were being shocked by a lightning fish.
“It’s the poison.” Coatl frowned down at her form.
“I thought your sister healed her,” Ahkin shouted, confusion mingling with his fear and making him unreasonably furious.
Coatl turned to face the prince, his eyes full of repressed impatience.
“She did, my lord.” He drew out the title like stretching tree sap. “But you see, when you heal a wound, as my sister did, with poison still coursing through the body, it does not exactly help.”
“What? What do you mean?” Ahkin’s gaze fell to the wound on Mayana’s leg. A fresh gash oozed blood into a bowl positioned beneath her calf. The blood of the goddess Atlacoya, the blood of the girl he wanted to marry.
Coatl let out an impatient sigh. “I am draining the wound and attempting to draw out the poison with the power in my own blood.” He lifted his palm to show the prince his own small cut. “It has spread extensively throughout her system, as I am sure you can see.” Coatl motioned toward her twitching arms.
“Will she be alright?” Ahkin’s heart raced as he attempted to read every grimace on Coatl’s face. Anything that might give him the answer he sought.
Coatl pursed his lips, his brow furrowing. “I think so. We will have to see if she survives the night, I think, before I can know anything for sure.”
“I will stay with her until she is completely healed.” Ahkin reached for her hand and held it steady within his own.
“Of course, you will.” The healer sighed.
Ahkin narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Watch your impertinence,” he snapped.
“But of course, my lord.” Coatl’s voice became as slick and sweet as agave syrup. “I only live to serve you.”
Ahkin shifted his shoulders uneasily. What had become of his friend who loved to play tricks on the servants and flirt with the girls Ahkin was always too afraid to talk to? Coatl had changed much in the recent months. He had always been proud, even when he first arrived at the palace years ago. He boasted how he could heal any and all ailments, how no one in Pahtia possessed the sacred ability of the god Ixtlilton as powerfully as he did. That was why Ahkin’s father had requested he come to the palace of Tollan, to train as the royal family’s personal healer. He certainly had lived up to his self-proclaimed reputation. At least, until the night Ahkin’s father died. Not even Coatl could be everywhere at all times.
But recently, in addition to being prideful, he had grown disrespectful, as if he himself were a god and not just the descendant of one. Coatl was a wild pup in need of a stern hand. What had caused the sudden change?
“Ahkin?” Metzi’s melodious voice came from the doorway. His twin pushed aside the curtain and entered with cautious steps, hugging her arms around her chest as if trying to stop herself from shaking. Her eyes roved over Mayana’s sickened form and her hand slowly lifted to cover her open mouth.
“Oh, my gods, it’s true,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “Will she survive?”
“We are not sure …” Coatl began, but Ahkin interrupted.
“Yes,” he said with finality, as if the decision were entirely up to him. “She will. I know Mayana. She is strong. She honors and loves the gods deeply. Surely they will spare her life.”
“How well can you know someone after three days?” Coatl snorted, so quietly Ahkin wasn’t sure he was even meant to hear. Ahkin clenched his teeth, but Metzi’s soft hand on his shoulder calmed the fury coursing through him.
“What happened to you, Coatl? We were like brothers. Now you’ll hardly look at me, and speak to me as though you’re angry at me. Is this because I haven’t chosen your sister?”
Coatl didn’t respond, merely kept working as though Ahkin had not spoken.
“I came to fetch you, brother,” Metzi cut in. “The high priest wishes to speak with you.”
Ahkin growled in frustration. He didn’t want to leave Mayana’s side, and yet he still had responsibilities to uphold. How could the world around him keep going on as though nothing had changed—especially when the entire future he had planned was crumbling in his hands like ill-formed pottery? Why couldn’t the world stop for him until
he knew for sure that she would be alright?
Ahkin pressed a kiss to Mayana’s warm, moist hand and rose, still shaking, to his feet. “Please watch over her for me, Metzi. I hope she will one day be your friend and sister.”
“I will,” Metzi said breathlessly, moving her hand to her heart as though it were aching.
“You will love her,” Ahkin said.
“I already do.” Metzi gave Ahkin a reassuring smile and rushed him out the door.
Chapter
29
Mayana had no idea what had happened. She didn’t know where she was or how she had gotten there.
When she was little, she remembered trying to chase after her older brothers as they played in the river, but the water would slow her down, tugging at her legs and refusing to let her move as quickly as she wanted to. She would lift her knees high, sloshing against the force holding her, but she was never fast enough, could never quite reach them.
That’s how her brain felt now. Blurred colors and shapes danced just out of her reach, and no matter how hard she pushed, she couldn’t get a handle on them. Her thinking felt as thick as cold honey. And the pain. Oh gods, the pain.
Every nerve in her body throbbed and pulsated, as if her veins had been replaced with prickly cactus spines that pierced her skin whenever she moved. At the same time, her fingers and lips and toes were numb, and it was the most perplexing sensation to feel both too much and nothing at the same time.
Bits and pieces of her memory came back to her. Images of the scorpion arching its tail, the feel of its shell crunching beneath the helmet, crawling across the floor and trying to scream for help, all flashed beneath her eyelids. It was a miracle she was still alive.
Was that Ahkin’s voice? She wanted to find it, to listen to it and catch a glimpse of the smile that made her stomach turn inside out. Actually, maybe it was better her stomach stayed as calm as possible. Nausea overwhelmed her and the burning in her throat and nose told her that her stomach had already suffered enough trauma as it was.
