The Seventh Sun

by Lani Forbes

  There was a warm pressure on her fingers, someone squeezing her hand, saying something to the blurred shapes wading through the bright bursts of light that broke her vision every time her eyelids fluttered. It was like trying to watch something on the other side of a curtain buffeted back and forth in a wind.

  Then the warm hand was gone, and relief flooded through her. Her body was too hot already, and the warmth had been uncomfortable. She tried to focus on something else, anything else to distract her from the sensations of the poison coursing through her. She wasn’t dead yet.

  She would keep fighting.

  Mayana pictured the faces of her brothers, remembered Chimalli’s playful teasing and Tenoch’s boyish, mischievous spirit. She imagined her father and how his face would glow with pride like the rising sun when he heard that Prince Ahkin had chosen her as his empress. She just had to survive to get there.

  Most of all, she focused on reliving those moments with Ahkin in the garden. She remembered the sensation in her stomach as he kissed her for the first time, and she tried to replace the nausea with the memory of that feeling. She imagined his eyes, the way they had filled with such desire as he lowered his head toward her. The feel of the cool water contrasted with the warmth of his skin.

  But then, like poison seeping into her mind, her thoughts turned to guilt and shame. She had let Ahkin believe she saved the jaguar out of some desire to honor the calendar and the rituals with even more devotion than was necessary. She never once corrected him. That was the whole reason he noticed her in the first place. Would he have given her the same attention if she hadn’t acted to save it—supposedly out of a desire to honor the gods?

  She didn’t know where she stood anymore. Ever since she’d lost Ona, Mayana had almost resented the gods for their demands. Her father viewed all life as a gift from the gods and the sacrifices as just giving those lives back. But why did it hurt so much?

  Her confusion was what had encouraged her to study the original texts in the first place, and that’s how she noticed the difference between the older texts and the new. She tried to bring it up to her father once, but she stopped when the look on his face suggested his eyes were going to burst from their sockets. Fine. She got the message clear enough. Do not question the codex. Ever. Do the rituals and stay quiet. Which she had … with the exception of the animal sacrifices.

  Then there was Yemania. And Yoli. Even the other princesses, Itza and Teniza, whom she didn’t really know as well. She didn’t want to sacrifice them. Their loss of life wasn’t fair. Why gift them with life in the first place—beautiful young lives with so much still to give—and then demand it back?

  Zorrah, on the other hand, could give her life back as soon as possible, as far as Mayana was concerned. She wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly how a scorpion had ended up in her bed, of all places. Zorrah had tried to kill her before she even made it to Tollan, though she wasn’t sure why the animal princess had targeted her before she became a threat.

  Mayana would confront Zorrah as soon as she had the chance. She may hate sacrificing, but that didn’t make her weak. It took great strength to question her entire society’s way of life. Mayana’s chest burned in anger and determination.

  She was strong. Stronger than anyone gave her credit for.

  The haze cleared slightly, and her eyelids slid open. She was not in her room anymore. She turned her head slightly to get a better look at her surroundings and the movement sent a wave of pain through her temples.

  She groaned loudly at the ache, almost wanting to slip back into her semiconscious twilight.

  “Is she … awake?”

  Mayana recognized the woman’s voice, clear and beautiful as a bell. Was that the prince’s sister? Metzi?

  “I don’t know.” That was the smooth, disdainful voice of Coatl.

  The colors she was seeing sharpened, as if she had blinked away tears. Mayana could make out a white cotton dress and the sheen of gold jewelry framed with long, dark hair. Definitely Metzi.

  Coatl had his back to Mayana, the tanned, strong muscles of his back puckered with red lines like … fingernail scratches? He too wore white cotton wrapped around his waist. He turned to face her. A gold pendant with a glittering ruby like a drop of blood glinted on his chest.

  Confusion hit her over the head like a spiked club. What … what were they doing? Why were they standing so close together? Were his arms around her waist? Mayana wanted to say something but her tongue was swollen and dry as sand.

  “She’s awake! She saw us!” Metzi’s usually pleasant voice suddenly shrieked, like one of the irritating jungle birds back home that screeched into Mayana’s window far too early in the morning. She winced.

  Before she could make sense of what she had just seen, before she could ask a single question, something cold and wet was pressed against her face. The fabric covered her nose and mouth and smelled so strongly of some kind of herb that it overwhelmed her senses. Suffocating terror gripped her, but she was too weak to even lift a hand to fight. Her nose burned and her eyes watered at the strong scent. Her vision faded at the edges as her strength gave out. Her body relaxed, and she drifted back into the welcoming arms of darkness.

  Chapter

  30

  “You wished to see me, Toani?” Ahkin tapped a knuckle against the golden doorframe.

  The slow shuffling of feet and the clattering of numerous beads announced Toani’s approach from the depths of the temple. Ahkin always wondered how the old man had the strength to march up and down the hundreds of narrow steps of the Temple of the Sun.

  Toani shifted the bloodred cloak upon his shoulders.

  “Follow me,” he said. Ahkin couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t smiling.

  Toani turned on the spot and several of the massive feathers of his headpiece smacked across Ahkin’s face. The priest probably didn’t mean to disrespect him, right? Ahkin gritted his teeth and followed the priest toward the study chamber behind the altar, the holy room where the texts of the codex were stored.

  “Atanzah informed me about the unfortunate circumstances regarding one of the princesses,” Toani’s voice floated back to him.

  Ahkin’s stomach clenched. He didn’t need to be reminded.

  “Yes, the daughter of the lord of Atl was stung by a scorpion.”

  Toani nodded sorrowfully. “Was she of particular interest to you?”

  Blood rushed to Ahkin’s cheeks, so he was grateful Toani walked ahead of him and could not see.

  “Yes,” he said tersely. “I had actually hoped to announce her as my choice at this evening’s feast.”

  “And you think it a coincidence the girl you had chosen has been struck?”

  Confusion clouded his thoughts at the question. “What … are you insinuating, Toani?”

  “Sometimes the gods act in mysterious ways.” Toani’s voice trailed off as he disappeared through the doorway. Ahkin followed a little reluctantly.

  The light of several flaming torches illuminated the room, but its high walls always made Ahkin feel like he was sitting at the bottom of a well. Detailed carvings and paintings depicting the gods and people of the various ages stretched high above his head. The musty scent of old paper mingled with spices hung in the air. The chamber was cool and still, as though the wind itself were being quiet and respectful.

  The original holy books of the codex lay stacked neatly on a low, carved stone table. Number charts and a Chicome calendar stone sat beside them. The fig-bark paper used for the codices were long continuous sheets, painted with colored pictures detailing the Chicome’s histories, their rituals, and explanations of the calendar. Unfolded, each sheet could run the length of the stone table and even onto the temple floor. When Ahkin was a boy, his father showed him the careful ways to open and fold the codex papers to preserve them.

  Toani led him to the table and pulled se
veral charts and star maps toward them.

  “What exactly do you want me to look at?” Ahkin studied the pictures and lines arching across the paper.

  “I have the plans finished for your father’s celebration of life. I have been studying the signs, and I believe that tomorrow would be the best time to begin his burial. His tomb has been finished for several years already, of course, and I would recommend you begin construction on your personal tomb the moment you are crowned. These things can take many years to complete, and as your late father showed us”—Toani heaved a heavy sigh—“we never know when our journeys will begin.”

  “Tomorrow works well. I am planning to leave the following day as it is.”

  “You are leaving, my lord?” Toani blinked his tiny, ancient eyes at the prince.

  “I will lead a battalion of Jaguar and Eagle warriors to confront the Miquitz outside the fields of Millacatl. They have been capturing peasants and warriors alike, and I intend to repay the kindness.”

  Toani pursed his lips. “That may be wise. I continue to track the sun’s movements across the sky, and it seems to grow ever weaker, setting earlier and earlier each night. The people will soon notice, my prince, and begin to panic. Perhaps a sacrifice of several Miquitz captives will give the Seventh Sun some of the nourishment it seeks.”

  Ahkin couldn’t help but notice that Toani did not seem convinced of his own suggestion. Ahkin wasn’t even convinced himself. He knew the real reason the sun was struggling. He wasn’t strong enough. His blood was too weak. Still, it couldn’t hurt to try. Either way, he would not stand for the Miquitz violating Chicome borders. He could not stand the thought of peasants and farmers disappearing into the night, dragged up into the mountains by the death demons.

  Ahkin forced confidence into his voice. “Hopefully we will bring back enough for the sun to gorge itself on Miquitz blood.”

  Chapter

  31

  The burial ceremony drew citizens from every corner of the Chicome Empire. The high priest laid Ahkin’s parents to rest in the elegant tomb his father had built in preparation. Alongside them rested numerous tributes of food and riches and the bodies of a servant and a dog to serve his father during his journey through Xibalba. Ahkin himself placed the carved mask of jade upon his father’s face, so peaceful in his eternal slumber.

  And his mother, beautiful even in death, would forever sleep by his side while their souls completed the journey through the underworld together. Despite the assurances and praises of the priest, Ahkin still couldn’t subdue the part of his heart that screamed against his mother’s actions. Was what she had done truly necessary to please the gods? He feared they sensed the weakness within him, his lack of faith in what they demanded.

  Metzi had stood nearby as the tomb was sealed, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, a look of staunch determination on her face. Even Metzi could not ease the ache of loneliness gnawing at his spirit. After the Nemontemi, she would be sent to Ehecatl to marry the oldest son of their lord. She wasn’t happy about it, that much he could tell, but he also knew she would do what was required of her. She understood responsibility as much as he did.

  The other princesses watched silently, chins dipped in respect, but they were already spirits to him. There but not there at the same time. Ahkin could only think about how he wished Mayana was by his side.

  He imagined her slipping her hand into his and warming the coldness seeping through him. Then, at least, he would have known that he did not have to face an unknown future alone. Maybe with her help he could find the strength to save the sun. Coatl said she was improving every time he went to visit her, but he feared he would have to leave before she awoke.

  The next morning, the army prepared for the departure to Millacatl. In Coatl’s room, Ahkin pressed his lips against Mayana’s limp fingers. He would return to her. He had to.

  Ahkin turned to Coatl, his eyes pleading.

  “Tell me her condition is improving?”

  Coatl did not meet his eyes but continued mixing some pungently scented combination of herbs and paste in a stone bowl. “I am confident she will make a full recovery, my lord.”

  “How can you be sure? I would have thought she would be awake by now.”

  “I am purposely keeping her sedated. Her muscles need to relax after the trauma her nerves experienced. You can see she is no longer twitching. And feel—her fever is gone.”

  Relief coursed through Ahkin as he checked the temperature of her cheek one more time. Slightly cooler.

  There was a long moment of silence, in which the only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic grinding of Coatl’s pestle.

  “Coatl, have you ever …?”

  Coatl paused, and turned to stare at the prince with wide, disbelieving eyes.

  “Really? We are going to talk women? We haven’t done that since we saw fourteen cycles of the calendar.” He turned back to his work.

  “You’re right. You’re probably not the best one to ask anyway, considering the women of Tollan always flocked to you like flies to honey.”

  He watched Coatl’s mouth tick up in a half smile. It was almost like having his old friend back for a moment.

  “You were always too busy smashing skulls or looking at the stars to pay attention to the ones fawning over you. Besides, I’m more handsome than you are.”

  “Perhaps, but I am a prince, and that must count for more than a pretty face.” Ahkin forced out the playful jibe. He spoke with a confidence he did not feel—he would not let Coatl see the true depths of his self-doubt.

  “Being a prince doesn’t mean you know how to warm their beds as well as I do. The codex prevents you from gaining that experience, whereas I am as free as an eagle.”

  Ahkin snorted. This was the Coatl he remembered. They had grown up in the palace together since they were fourteen. What havoc they had caused, playing tricks on the servants and driving his father to fits of rage with their antics. He still remembered Coatl convincing his father that it was a monkey that had dropped that piece of fruit on the commander’s head during a banquet. Ahkin had never had the confidence that Coatl did. How Ahkin had envied him.

  “So where are you leading your pack of wild animals off to this time? Ehecatl giving us trouble again?”

  “No, I’m taking the Jaguar and Eagle warriors with me to Millacatl. The Miquitz are attacking peasants and farmers there. Yaotl thinks they may be preparing for some kind of massive sacrificial ceremony, but if I have any say, they will not sacrifice Chicome blood for their rituals.”

  Coatl bent down to Mayana’s leg and spread the greenish-yellow paste across the still-swollen flesh of her calf.

  “Send those death demons back to the depths of the underworld.”

  Ahkin grasped his old friend’s shoulder briefly.

  “I promise I will, as long as you make sure I have my future wife to return to.”

  Coatl said nothing as he wrapped a new bandage around Mayana’s leg. Ahkin regretted his words. Perhaps Coatl was still bitter about his sister not being chosen.

  “I don’t know what happened between us, Coatl, but I will always consider you my brother. Thank you for saving her.”

  The healer closed his eyes briefly, as though Ahkin’s words caused him pain.

  “It is my job, my lord.”

  Ahkin turned to leave, not wanting to press whatever wound Coatl was trying so hard to keep hidden.

  “I know it is. But I still thank you.”

  Chapter

  32

  Coatl had not been the most talkative companion since Mayana woke up that morning. Had she not been entirely consumed with the feeling her leg was about to fall off, she might have actually said something to him. He explained where she was, how she had gotten there, and why her body felt like it had been trampled by deer hooves. But he made no jokes that made her blush, no suggest
ive comments that made her skin crawl. Not that she was complaining. It was just … unnerving. Like there was a tension hanging about the room she couldn’t get a handle on. Coatl wasn’t being himself.

  So, she said nothing.

  Instead, she bit her lip to keep from screaming as he wrapped her lower right leg with clean white cotton and warned her to come back if she started feeling dizzy or nauseated again. He asked her what she remembered from the last two days, and she wasn’t entirely honest. She told him it was all a blur, that she remembered nothing specific after collapsing onto her bedroom floor.

  She still wasn’t sure if what she had seen between him and Metzi was real or the result of her addled brain creating hallucinations. It could have easily been either. Still, she couldn’t help but notice that Coatl had been very keen to get her out of his chambers, and she didn’t object.

  Mayana knocked softly on the stone doorframe of Yemania’s room. With only six more days until the start of the Nemontemi, her time was limited to make amends with her friend. Ahkin wanted his wife chosen before the unlucky last days of the calendar year. The red cotton curtain fluttered slightly, and Yemania’s brown eyes peered through the gap along the edge.

  “It’s me. Can I come in?”

  Yemania’s eyes darted back and forth several times before disappearing behind the curtain.

  Mayana dipped her chin, her heart sinking for the briefest of moments before Yemania heaved a great sigh and wrenched the curtain aside.

  Mayana’s heart took flight like a bird from the jungle canopy. She jerked her head back up, wanting to launch herself through the doorway and wrap her arms around the other girl. Instead, her fingers merely twitched at her side as she took in Yemania’s crossed arms and defensive pose.

  “What?” Yemania’s sharp voice cut through her like an obsidian blade.

  Mayana gulped. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t Yemania just understand? “I—just wanted to thank you. For—for saving my life. You didn’t have to, and you did it anyway, even after …”