by Lani Forbes
“Relax, Coatl. Birds are not venomous, and even if they were, I can heal you as fast as I did when you were bitten by the spider.” Yemania rolled her eyes at her brother’s unease.
“What spider?” Metzi trilled from where she lounged in her golden chair, several servant heads in front of them.
“Nothing. Nothing about spiders,” Coatl said quickly. He glared at Yemania in warning.
Yemania turned away and stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from laughing. When she gathered her composure, she turned back to face him. “So why are we going to Millacatl?”
But Metzi cut in to their conversation and answered for him. “Millacatl is the wealthiest city-state in the empire. They grow all of our food and the cacao beans we use for currency. If Ehecatl is declaring war on Tollan, we are going to need Millacatl’s financial backing for any military campaigns.”
Of all six city-states ruled by Tollan, Millacatl was perhaps the most essential, and maybe Metzi’s cleverness would be enough to keep them loyal.
Yemania had never visited the rolling foothill farms that graced their eastern border, but she knew they lay at the base of the Miquitz Mountains. A shiver ran through her. She’d never been so close to those cursed mountains, the home of the Miquitz Empire and its terrifying death worshippers. Legend said Miquitz even housed its own cave entrance to the underworld like the sinkhole in Tollan. All Yemania knew was that they often came into the valley to capture enemy soldiers for use as sacrifices—though more recently they had begun kidnapping innocent farmers and peasants from Millacatl. She made a mental note to stay as far away from those mountains as she could.
Their trek through the jungle took an entire day, so by the time they finally reached the rolling farmlands, the Seventh Sun flirted with the horizon, staining the sky a faint orange. The great stone city perched on the hill beckoned them with the scent of freshly baked flatbreads and the sweet smell of cooked maize. Yemania couldn’t wait to collapse onto a bed mat overflowing with rabbit furs.
Though the city was not made of gold like Tollan, it exuded an ancient, if somewhat eclectic, elegance, from the intricate carvings along the stone walls to the trees and greenery incorporated into the structures as though they were part of the buildings themselves. Tree trunks wound their way through curving walls inlaid with different colored stones and tiles. Gardens in the various homesteads overflowed with every kind of flower and fruit imaginable, making the air thick with their scents. Somewhere close by Yemania could hear the bustling and chatter of an active marketplace.
The households of Millacatl greeted their traveling caravan at the entrance to the city, throwing flower petals and cacao beans at their feet as they passed. Yemania wrinkled her nose at the dull brown beans bouncing across the paved stone walkway. Were they really so wealthy that they could throw money in the streets? Such abundance and affluence often lead to a sense of superiority, something she had seen clearly in their Princess Teniza during the empress-selection ritual. Her stomach soured at the thought of having to see the princess again, let alone her nine other brothers and sisters, who were likely to be just as spoiled.
“How long are we staying?” she whispered to her brother as the servants lowered them to the ground in the stone palace’s lush courtyard.
“A few days. Metzi wants to be back in Tollan before the start of the Nemontemi,” Coatl said.
Metzi had left several blood-soaked strips of sacrificial maguey papers back in the capital so that the priests could raise the sun for the next few days without her. The whole situation still made Yemania nervous. The survival of their world now depended on this egotistical young woman, who had only seen eighteen cycles of the calendar.
They focused their attention on the towering lord of Millacatl, who approached them with outstretched arms. His cloak was a dark emerald green, exactly matching the color of his eyes. Were the princess Teniza’s eyes that startlingly green? Yemania couldn’t remember. For a man blessed by the gods with ten sons and daughters, he had relatively few creases marring his face. Her own father had only five children, but his face was as deeply lined as dried cracks in a riverbed. But then again, the lord of Pahtia was not known for his kindness, just as the lord of Millacatl was not known for his humility.
He swept right to Metzi and bowed before her, a considerable act given his impressive height. “My dear princess of light, welcome to Millacatl. We are so fortunate that you have blessed us with your benevolent presence.”
Yemania bit back a snort. “Benevolent” was not a word she would use to describe Metzi. But the new empress bowed in return with an elegant flourish, and Yemania was forced to follow them into the banquet chamber of Millacatl’s elaborate stone palace.
The palace at Millacatl wasn’t as glorious as the palace in Tollan, lacking in size and the shine of gold, but it certainly surpassed the beauty of her palace back home. It was as if Millacatl had been built to complement the nature around it instead of interrupt it. At first, she couldn’t tell what the dark curving walls of the banquet hall were made of, but as she stepped closer, she realized the entire room seemed to be made of manipulated tree trunks, bending to the will of their masters. The ceiling itself mimicked the jungle canopy they had traveled through, and the throne at the top of the room looked as though it had simply grown out of the earth. The scent of fresh earth and newness hung in the moist air. Yemania suppressed a giggle at the sight of Coatl eyeing the hall with distrust as though spiders lurked within the very walls, waiting to ambush him. But it was the feast that made her mouth drop open. The floor was covered in bowls of every dish imaginable, from rare fruits she had never seen before to multicolored flatbreads to a succulent roasted deer rubbed with various spices.
Yemania settled onto a cushion on the other side of Coatl. She glanced at the gathering of Millacatl’s royal family and caught the eye of Teniza, the daughter of plants who had been sent to the capital for the selection ritual. She was as regal as ever, towering above most of her siblings in both height and regal grace. Though she and Yemania had not become well acquainted in the capital, Teniza bowed her head in recognition. Yemania nodded back, her stomach tightening.
The lord of Millacatl rose to his feet and led the assembly in the sacrifice of a bird to bless the meal. Yemania never used to mind the ritual sacrifices laid out in the holy codices of their people—they were a way of life—but that was before Mayana had shown her the original codex sheets in the temple at Tollan. Even Yemania couldn’t deny the fact that they appeared much newer in comparison to the older historical texts—as though they had been written by man and not set forth by the gods. With the new knowledge that these sacrifices might not be entirely necessary, Yemania flinched at the sight of the obsidian blade slicing through the bird’s throat. Blood covered the lord of Millacatl’s hands, and he threw the small beast into the flames of the brazier burning in the sunken pit in the stone floor. She watched the smoldering remains of the bird crumble into ash and her throat felt suddenly tight with emotion. She didn’t want to think about Mayana right now.
“Well,” the lord of Millacatl announced after settling himself down beside Metzi, “I am excited to solidify the alliance between our two great cities, especially given our recent treatment in the selection ritual.”
Metzi took a sip of pulque from a bowl and pursed her lips. “I am sorry, my lord, that my brother gave so little attention to your daughter. I’m sure if he had, the results would have been very different.”
The lord of Millacatl waved a dismissive hand. “The boy was inexperienced, far too young to assume the throne. It was to be expected, perhaps.”
Metzi’s eyes suddenly hardened into amber. “My brother and I were twins, my lord, meaning that I, too, have seen only eighteen cycles of the calendar. Perhaps you are insinuating that I am too young to assume the throne?”
Yemania swore she saw the color drain slightly from the lord of Millacatl’
s face. “Of course not, Your Highness. I—I think that Prince Ahkin was putting his heart above the needs of his people, and you seem much wiser than—”
“Except that I am here because I need funding for a military campaign. I canceled an engagement to a prince that I did not love and now his city-state has declared war on the empire.” Metzi’s tone was as hard as her eyes.
The lord stumbled over his own tongue. “I did not mean—I am sorry if I—”
Metzi sat up straighter, and her eyes bore into his. “Let me be very clear, my lord. I am young, yes, but every member of this empire is alive because of the power that I alone can wield. I will not tolerate anyone speaking down to me, whether to my face or behind my back. If you have allowed us to come here under the impression that you will be able to lord your power and influence over me like you did to my brother, you are sorely mistaken. I am not Ahkin. I will be either respected or I will be feared, and you may choose which it will be for Millacatl.”
The lord of Millacatl drew back slightly, his emerald-green eyes suddenly shrewd and calculating. “I will not be spoken to like that in my own home. If you wish to maintain the support—”
But Metzi cut across him. “By all means, run to Ehecatl. Join their side if you think they stand a chance against the blood of Huitzilopochtli, god of war. Because that is who I am descended from, Lord of Millacatl. Not a god of farmers. I have been underestimated my entire life, and that is something I have learned to use to my advantage. See how well your plants grow without the light of the Seventh Sun—and that is only one of the powers at my disposal. I am not here to play games. I am here to see where Millacatl stands in the coming months and if they will be contributing financially.”
The silence that followed her announcement was heavy and thick with unspoken words. Yemania’s stomach felt suddenly full, as though she were going to be sick. What had she meant about the sun being only one of the powers at her disposal?
The lord of Millacatl surveyed the princess of light, his face unreadable. After several moments, he lifted his bowl of pulque and rose to his feet.
“I would like to drink to the long and prosperous reign of our new empress, Metzi of Tollan. Millacatl will always stand behind and support her as a member of our united Chicome Empire. May the gods bless her with their favor.” He drank, unsmiling, from the bowl, never taking his eyes off Metzi’s face, and motioned for everyone else to join him.
The voices around the hall echoed his sentiment, and then the entire room drank to his blessing. Metzi smiled in triumph and lounged back on her cushion. Coatl leaned over and started feeding her berries in a manner far too sensuous for a public gathering. The sight of them almost upended Yemania’s stomach.
“I’m going to step outside if it’s all right,” Yemania said to her brother. Metzi was slowly sucking the juice of a bright-red berry from Coatl’s finger and he didn’t even bother to acknowledge that Yemania had spoken. “I’m taking that as a yes,” she mumbled in frustration.
The earthy air now felt suffocating, as though she was stuck underground. She needed to get outside. She slipped quickly from the banquet hall and out into the courtyards of the palace. She needed to clear her head before she actually got sick from the overwhelming feeling of powerlessness she felt coursing through her. Mayana was gone. Ahkin was gone. The empire had no choice but to yield to Metzi, someone clearly as obsessed with power as Yemania’s own father was. She hated to be stuck with Metzi, but she couldn’t go back home either. Everywhere she turned, she felt more trapped.
The jungles? Maybe she could go into the jungles and gather some herbs for remedies? Yes. That’s what she could do. Nothing cleared her head more than when she was lost in the rhythms of grinding a pestle. Metzi had Coatl for now, so she would be fine if anything happened.
Her eyes went to where the Seventh Sun slowly set over the mountains, casting the sky in brilliant shades of purple and orange. Yemania hesitated. It was bad luck to be out at night, everyone in the empire knew that. Creatures and demon spirits lurked in the jungles at night, waiting to devour souls foolish enough to venture out after dark.
Yemania chewed her lip. It wasn’t dark yet. She didn’t need to be out in the jungles for long, just long enough to clear her head and keep her from having to watch her brother feed berries to that selfish, murderous—Yes, she was definitely going. She would be back before the sun had fully disappeared into the underworld for the night.
She stomped forward and made her way toward the city’s gate.
“Where are you going, miss?” A soldier with a flint-tipped spear spoke as she passed the stone pillars engraved with glyphs.
“Um, I’m going to gather some plants. In the jungles. For remedies.” She nervously fingered the red woven dress she wore, the mark of her status as a healer from Pahtia.
The soldier narrowed his eyes, but finally nodded. Perhaps he could see the desperation in her eyes, the heaviness weighing on her shoulders. “Be careful. Please be back before darkness falls. If you don’t return by then, I’ll send someone to look for you.”
“Thank you,” Yemania breathed. She rushed past him and onto the dirt road they had taken into the city earlier that day. Behind Millacatl stretched miles and miles of rolling farms along with villages that tended to those farms, but the jungles they had traveled through skirted the mountains themselves. If she wanted to venture into the jungles, she would have to risk getting closer to those misted peaks.
Yemania took a deep breath and threw back her shoulders before she marched toward the trees.
The moment she passed into the jungle, she felt as though she could breathe again. Almost immediately she spotted a white sapote tree, the round green fruits hanging from its branches inviting her to pluck one. The fruit was an excellent sedative. She collected several in her bag and then noticed some epazotl roots. They would be perfect steeped in water for someone having difficulty breathing or suffering from headaches. The thoughts and worries of the day melted away with each new plant she collected, her excitement growing with each new find. Mecapatli, small red berries used for joint pain. Yellow guava, good for digestion. Every so often a small creature would scuttle through the underbrush, making her jump, but as soon as she recognized it, her fear would ease.
The light around her started to fade, and she realized that if she wanted to make it back before darkness truly fell, she needed to head back. Her bag, propped open on a boulder near a thick, rushing river, was bursting with treasures from the earth, and she paused to make sure everything was packed in properly. Every single leaf was precious. She adjusted the contents to fit before rising to her feet, her heart lighter and more joyful than it had been in weeks.
Yemania turned to head back, but a smudge of darkness along the riverbank caught her attention. It was several yards away from where she stood, but she couldn’t make out what it was. She blinked several times to clear her vision, but the moment she realized what she was seeing, she screamed and jumped back.
The body of a young man lay sprawled on his back, half submerged in the water. Bodies were not something to fear, merely empty vessels void of their souls, but this young man was dressed in inky black fabric and wore a necklace of what looked suspiciously like human finger bones.
He was a soldier from Miquitz.
Chapter
5
Mayana wrinkled her nose. When Ahkin stabbed the snake, he’d been coated from head to toe in the creature’s blood. Now the blood was dry but sticky, and the dirt from the paths clung to them both like a second skin. They had been wandering the dusty paths through tall, dead grasses for what felt like hours, yet the looming mountain range still seemed so far in the distance.
They kept a careful, awkward space between them as they walked. The silence itched at her like the swollen bite of a mosquito. With each dusty step the urge to say something, anything, became overwhelming.
“Yo
u look disgusting,” Mayana finally complained. Perhaps she could have found something more eloquent to say, but at least it broke the silence.
Ahkin shrugged, as though being coated in dirt and the lifeblood of another creature were a common occurrence for him. As he was an accomplished warrior, Mayana supposed that wasn’t far off from the truth.
She remembered when her eldest brother, Chimalli, had returned from his first battle. He’d been quiet, but his eyes were screaming. She’d teased him until finally he smiled. Once she’d broken through his shell, he’d finally shared his burden with her, telling her of the horrors of the battlefield. Perhaps if she lightened the mood, Ahkin would be more willing to talk.
“No wonder you got the doll so dirty,” she teased. The little worry doll she had chosen for Ahkin as part of the empress-selection process had returned from his battle in Millacatl as filthy as Ahkin was now. He had tied it to his macana sword for luck. He said it had saved his life that day.
“In my defense, cleanliness is the least of my concerns when I am in the middle of a battle.” He closed the distance between them and bumped playfully into her shoulder. Mayana’s heart fluttered in response. Somewhere beside her, Ona growled softly.
“Have you captured many enemies in battle?” she asked.
The Chicome considered the number of enemies captured a sign of your prowess as a warrior. Chimalli had explained the whole process to her when their father secured him a battle mentor. All boys were required to register with their city-state’s army, and usually the wealthiest could afford to hire the best mentors to train their sons.
Ahkin grimaced and kicked absently at the dirt. “I’ve only captured two.”
