The Jade Bones

by Lani Forbes

  PRAISE FOR THE SEVENTH SUN

  “With a rich world and even richer characters, Lani’s

  The Seventh Sun will pull you in and keep you wanting more.”

  –KARA BARBIERI,

  author of the Permafrost series

  “This vivid, historic tale will transport readers to an ancient culture

  and, along the way, will capture their hearts, as well.”

  –MERRIE DESTEFANO,

  award-winning author of Valiant

  “Lani Forbes delivers lush storytelling, vivid characters,

  and heart-pounding drama in her compelling debut novel…

  Lani Forbes now joins Leigh Bardugo and Alwyn Hamilton

  in the ranks of the most talented fantasy authors of today.”

  –MARGO KELLY,

  award-winning author of Who R U Really? and Unlocked

  “With a blazing-hot romance and a world that rises and sets

  with Aztec and Mayan legends, Lani Forbes delivers a story

  as majestic as the sun itself.”

  –Pintip Dunn,

  New York Times bestselling author of Forget Tomorrow

  “Mesoamerican mythology gets a long overdue epic

  fantasy treatment…A page-turning adventure that…

  highlights a rich and relatively unknown mythological

  heritage that begs to be explored.”

  –Kirkus Reviews

  “With this rich and compelling debut, Lani Forbes has created a vivid world that truly stands out among the rest…Clear your schedule.

  You won’t want to put this one down.”

  –Rachel A. Marks,

  author of Fire and Bone and the Dark Cycle Trilogy

  “Intriguing magic, a merciless and ancient storyworld,

  and a brave heroine who is determined not to compromise…

  Readers will be clamoring for the sequel.”

  –Jill Williamson,

  award-winning author of By Darkness Hid

  “The Seventh Sun dazzles as debut author Lani Forbes weaves a rich, complex, supernatural world…This book caught me from the start and refused to let go!”

  –Alane Ferguson,

  Edgar Allan Poe Award winner and author of over thirty novels

  “Debut author Forbes tells a story rich with Aztec traditions, foods,

  names, and mythology…The story fills a gap in Indigenous narratives.

  A good purchase for romance fans.”

  –School Library Journal

  “Reading this book is like time-traveling to the Inca and Mayan empire. You are completely immersed in the culture with historical accuracy…

  I can’t wait for the next book!”

  –Seattle Book Review

  Copyright © 2021 by Lani Forbes

  E-book published in 2021 by Blackstone Publishing

  Cover design by Kathryn Galloway English

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion

  thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner

  whatsoever without the express written permission

  of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations

  in a book review.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious.

  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental

  and not intended by the author.

  Trade e-book ISBN 978-1-982546-73-1

  Library e-book ISBN 978-1-982546-72-4

  Young Adult Fiction / Fantasy / General

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  CIP data for this book is available

  from the Library of Congress

  Blackstone Publishing

  31 Mistletoe Rd.

  Ashland, OR 97520

  www.BlackstonePublishing.com

  To Vicki, Alaina, and the other women

  who walked beside me as I went through

  my own version of hell.

  Chapter

  1

  The sun set in the world above, dying to the land of the living and beginning its journey through the land of the dead.

  Not that Mayana of Atl could see its glowing light through the thick clouds swirling overhead. The only sign of day beginning in the underworld was that the darkness seemed to soften slightly, a pale comparison to the light of the Seventh Sun she had experienced only yesterday. She missed its warmth creeping across her skin and prayed she would be able to feel it again.

  She was alive, and—considering she was sitting on the shores of the underworld while her heart still beat—it was a miracle. Her soul was supposed to be festering in the belly of the great crocodile, Cipactli, for even daring to enter this level of creation.

  Mayana’s wary gaze roamed the cove where they had washed up, taking in the tall black cliffs at their backs and the tiny crescent beach of dark volcanic sand. Far out in the churning gray waters, behind the fingerlike rock projections lining the mouth of the cove, she swore a monstrous shadow lurked beneath the surface, waiting for them to return to the water. A tingle of fear crept down her spine.

  She tore her gaze away and absently stroked her thumb across the smooth jade skull pendant hanging around her neck. It felt cold to the touch, despite lying against her flushed skin. Perhaps there was more to the unique gift from the Mother goddess than she knew.

  Beside her, Prince Ahkin of Tollan sat in reverent silence. His own fingers traced the golden curves of the sun carved into the shield that had been worn by his ancestor, the sun god Huitzilopochtli. The faded light of the Seventh Sun barely registered on the dark waves of his short hair, equally as dark as the expression he wore. Mayana was getting used to the scowl that always seemed to shadow his features, but he had been unusually silent since the Mother’s departure, as though he was afraid to speak.

  Mayana, however, itched to be on her feet. Xibalba was not called “the place of fear” for nothing, and her nerves already felt as frayed as the end of an unfinished weaving. A distant, tortured scream echoed from somewhere above their heads, making her flinch.

  “Should we get moving?” she asked, rubbing her arms vigorously. Her resurrected dog, Ona, leapt to his feet, large pink tongue lolling out of his mouth and smooth, dark-furred head cocked slightly to the side as though she had offered to take him on a walk through the city instead of a trek through the underworld. He whined and bounced in place, but his presence bolstered her courage. She still couldn’t believe he was here, her dearest companion from childhood. She had been sure she’d never see him again. But thoughts of home reminded her of her father, her brothers. Of little Tenoch hearing the news of her fall into the underworld. Imagining his eyes filling with tears made her own burn. “We have to go.”

  Ahkin sighed heavily.

  Mayana reached out and squeezed his hand gently. “Ahkin?”

  Her touch must have pulled him out of wherever he had retreated to inside his head. He lifted his cacao-colored gaze to meet hers.

  “I’m sorry. I’m still—recovering from the shock of it all.”

  Mayana chewed her bottom lip. Her skin prickled with the sensation they were being watched, but maybe she was being paranoid.

  “It was definitely a lot to take in,” she said, tucking a long, sand-encrusted strand of hair behind her ear.

  Ahkin shrugged. “I can’t believe my own sister tricked me into killing myself so that she could steal my throne. And then to learn that the rituals that define every aspect of our lives, including the one that took my own mother away from me, are unnecessary. I’m just . . . feeling a little unsettled.” The depth of his scowl intensified. The Mother goddess had been gracious with her
gifts, but she had also been harsh in her corrections.

  Mayana grimaced. “I know. And I just found out I’m supposed to make a decision that will either save or destroy our world. That’s not reassuring either.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “But at least we don’t have to do this alone.”

  Ahkin’s hand reached up to cover hers, squeezing it. They stayed like that for several heartbeats, standing together in silence on the edge of death. Unsaid words passed between them. Whatever came, they would face it together.

  The prince of light sniffed and rose suddenly to his feet. “We need to make a plan.”

  “A plan?” They had only until the end of the Nemontemi, the last five days of the calendar stone, to escape the lower levels of creation, and only the gods knew if days passed the same in Xibalba as they did in the upper levels. There was no time to sit and strategize for hours. Were they even safe sitting here on this beach?

  Ahkin furrowed his brow. “Of course, a plan. You can’t charge into battle without a thorough understanding of—”

  “We have a plan. Escape before the end of the Nemontemi. Which starts tomorrow.” She spread her hands, as though that answered everything.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. Something in that moment shattered. As if the magic and excitement which had encased them in a bubble during the empress-selection ritual suddenly popped. Maybe they didn’t really know each other as well as Mayana thought.

  But how well did she really even know herself anymore? So much had changed in the last few weeks. She had been forced from her home, thrown into a ritual where she had to win the prince’s heart or lose her own, her royal blood sacrificed to the gods. So much had depended on Ahkin choosing her, she had made herself be who she needed to be. To become his wife. To become empress of the Chicome.

  But did he truly her know her? The rebellious, passionate heart that everyone else in her life shamed? The nagging fear that it was her own selfishness that made her so? If she showed the truth of who she really was to Ahkin, would he still even want her to be empress?

  The Mother goddess was right. They were dualities. Head and heart, passion and duty. She had said they would teach each other the lessons they needed to learn—but Mayana had a sudden uneasy feeling it was going to be much harder than either of them realized.

  “What do we know about the underworld?” Ahkin said. She imagined he would be pulling out books and holy texts and preparing to study them if he could. Ahkin always viewed knowledge as power, as though it gave him a sense of control.

  Mayana patted her hands nervously against her thighs and eyed the sheer cliff of obsidian rising behind them. She had no idea how they were supposed to climb the cliff . . . or what waited for them once they did.

  “I know Xibalba has nine layers that are supposed to represent the nine months of gestation,” she said. “It takes nine months for a soul to enter the land of the living, and nine levels to return to where life first came from.”

  Ahkin nodded in agreement.

  Mayana let her gaze wander back to the eerily dark waters of the Sea of the Dead. Somewhere beneath its churning eddies lurked the massive crocodile that had almost devoured their souls. The rocks lining the cove should hold him back . . . in theory, anyway. In her mind’s eye she could still see his enormous maw spread wide, the darkness within in it deep enough to swallow the cosmos, the razor-sharp teeth—longer than she was tall—lining his mouth, the additional mouths hidden at various joints, the spikes rising from his back as large as mountains.

  She shook out her shoulders to dispel the memory. They had made it past him—barely. But that’s all that mattered.

  “What’s in each layer?” she asked quickly.

  Ahkin rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know? You’re the one who’s read all the codices on creation.”

  Ahkin turned away from her. He kicked at the black sand with a sandaled foot, and shoved the round, leather-and-gold shield of his ancestor onto his forearm. His other hand opened and closed as though feeling empty without a weapon.

  “I’ve read them all, but the codices aren’t very clear on matters of the underworld. I only know vague descriptions. Very few have ever returned to describe it. Certainly not anyone from the age of the Seventh Sun.”

  Ona whined and licked Mayana’s hand with a warm, rough tongue. She absently scratched his ear but didn’t take her attention off of Ahkin. “What are the descriptions, at least?”

  Ahkin turned back to face her, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration as he recited from memory. “ ‘The passing of the waters, the place of paths, the place where mountains crash, the place of wind like knives, the place where bodies hang like banners, the place where beasts devour your heart, the final river, the City of the Dead, and finally, the resting place of souls, where smoke has no outlet.’ ”

  Something cold slithered down Mayana’s spine as she listened. Crashing mountains? Wind like knives? Beasts that devour your heart? How in the nine hells were they supposed to survive this journey? At least there was no mention of scorpions. She would probably curl into the fetal position here on the beach if there had been any mention of those armored little demons.

  “How—” Mayana coughed as her throat went dry in the stale air. There was no moisture here on the beach, only the musty stench of death, decay, and rot. “How long is the journey supposed to take?”

  Ahkin grimaced. “It’s supposed to take a soul four years to complete.”

  A slow moan came from behind them and they both whirled to see the spirit of an elderly man waft past their crescent of beach. He eyed them mournfully, as though he had heard their conversation and was not looking forward to a four-year journey.

  Mayana waited until the spirit slowly drifted to the top of the cliff behind them, a silvery cloud of mist ascending the smooth obsidian like a bird caught in an updraft. The moment he disappeared over the edge and out of earshot, she turned back to Ahkin.

  “Four years?” she hissed at him. “We only have a week!”

  “Kind of. From what I’ve read in the codices, time works differently in each layer of creation. A single day here might be several days or more in the land of the living. So, four years in Xibalba is very different than four years above.”

  Mayana rubbed her temples. “So, if we escape by the end of Xibalba’s Nemontemi, more than a week will have passed back home?”

  “Likely we would emerge several weeks after we fell. It seems like a long time, but don’t forget we have Ona to guide us. The Mother goddess wouldn’t give us an impossible task.”

  Mayana hoped that was true. As if responding to his name, Ona barked impatiently, the sound echoing around the cove. He loped over to Ahkin and instead of licking his hand, nipped it.

  Ahkin yanked back his hand. “What is wrong with your dog?”

  Mayana folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her hip, a smirk pulling at her lips. “I told you, he wants to get moving. I don’t think he cares about making a plan. We don’t even know what those vague descriptions mean anyway.”

  Ahkin stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked at the pinprick of blood that had appeared, eyeing Ona with distrust. “Fine. Show us the way to go then, beast, because unlike that spirit, there’s no way we are floating up to the top of the cliff.”

  An idea slipped into Mayana’s head at Ahkin’s words, and she felt her smirk spread into a genuine smile. Her eyes went back to the ocean stretching out into the distance. “Actually, we can.”

  Ahkin gave her a flat look. “Mayana, no. I know what you’re thinking. You lost a lot of blood even getting us to this beach.”

  “It worked before. Besides, Ona healed us—”

  “No. Based on how I felt after he healed my wounds, Ona doesn’t replenish blood lost. I have to figure something else out. I just need a little time.”

>   “Time is the one luxury we don’t have.” Yes, she was a little dizzy from the blood she’d had to supply in order to access her powers and bring them safely ashore, but they didn’t have a choice. They couldn’t stay on this beach forever.

  She picked her way over to the foot of the cliff. Boulders and shards broken off the cliff’s glossy black wall littered the beach at its base. The blade her brother had given her was gone, lost somewhere in the depths during their escape from the beast, Cipactli, so she kicked at the debris until she found what she was looking for—a shard of obsidian fire glass as big as her hand. And sharp enough to slice through skin.

  “Mayana—” Ahkin started toward her, obviously guessing what she was doing. “Please don’t. Just let me think.”

  Ahkin stopped before her, his eyes pleading. He bent and picked up a shard of obsidian of his own and shoved it in the waistband of the filthy, once-white wrap around his waist.

  Mayana felt that familiar rebellious streak she always tried to subdue flare to life within her. She wasn’t going to let him tell her what to do, not when she had been right about everything—from the rituals to his sister. If he wanted to stuff away his own shock and grief and mask it by pretending he was in control, then that was his problem. She was so sick of everyone telling her not to trust herself.

  She fixed Ahkin with a glare that said, Go ahead and stop me, before she straightened her spine and sliced the length of her palm. The blood of her ancestor, Atlacoya, goddess of drought, oozed through the cut. A cool awareness spread across her skin, the way it always did when she was close to water. The sensation called to her, summoning her to the element that allowed her to unleash the power contained within her divine blood.

  Ahkin threw his hands up in defeat as Mayana threw out her own hand toward the Sea of the Dead. A geyser exploded from its depths and shot toward them, enveloping them in salty, swirling water.

  The current surrounded them and pushed them against each other, Ahkin grunting slightly as Mayana slammed into his bare chest. Their sudden closeness sent a flash of heat across her skin. He wrapped his arms around her, grasping her tight as the mass of water lifted them off the sand. The rushing sound of the water filled Mayana’s ears. Her heart thrummed with excitement, as it always did when she used her godly gift. Her stomach dropped to her feet, but she told herself it was from the sudden weightlessness and not from being pressed against the warm, solid chest of the young man she had thought she was going to marry. Her mind chose that moment to bring up the memory of the night he came to her in her chambers, the night he had told her he was choosing her, when they were pressed against each other in a very different way . . . but she shoved the memory away. Whatever life they could have had together was probably gone—assuming they lived to the end of the calendar year.