by Lani Forbes
Coatl draped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her tight to him. His voice sounded strained as he said, “You matter to me. You always have. I was so scared I lost you. Who would save me from spider bites?”
Yemania gave a watery chuckle and turned to embrace her brother fully. He buried his head into her thick, dark hair, a weight seeming to lift itself off his shoulders. The memories of all the times he took the brunt of their father’s anger to spare her washed over her. The agony she’d felt at his decision to leave Pahtia and train in the capital. How it had felt like a betrayal.
“Then why did you leave for the capital all those years ago?” she asked, her voice trembling. “You left me alone with them, after you knew Aunt Temoa had left me too.” She couldn’t help the tears that pooled in the corners of her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Yem.” Coatl hugged her tighter. “I never should have left you. I let my desire to escape numb me to everything else. And then I found Metzi and I . . .” but he stopped, unable to continue.
Yemania sensed the sadness and worry that hung around him like a second skin. Coatl was good at acting as confident as a puffed-up quetzal bird, but she knew what the pain of growing up with a family like theirs did to the soul. Unrealistically high expectations of perfection, brutal retribution when it was not achieved. Never, never feeling good enough. While she hid it by withdrawing and curling in on herself, Coatl handled his by trying to earn approval from everywhere else.
She pulled back from their embrace and laid a hand against his cheek. “What is it, brother? I can tell something more is bothering you.”
Coatl kept his gaze low, sniffing slightly as he leaned into her warm hand. When he finally lifted his eyes to meet hers, the fear and brokenness within them shattered her fragile heart, but also sent a thrill of unease up her spine.
He blinked several times in quick succession. “I’m worried about Metzi.”
Chapter
15
Ahkin had never been so cold in his entire life. Having lived most of his calendar cycles in the capital and its surrounding jungles, coldness was not a sensation he was familiar with. He would gladly trade his other hand for a few moments in the steam and heat of a temazcalli bath house.
The back of the mountain where they had emerged was steep and slippery with ice. Their wrapped feet slid across the frozen ground, sending them both onto their backsides so many times that their cloaks soon became soaked. His teeth chattered together, and his limbs shook uncontrollably as he tried to hold his shield steady in front of them. Its rounded metal surface was their only source of warmth, as long as he kept a drop of his blood exposed. At least the shield’s heat was efficient at melting the ice pelting them in the harsh wind. Mayana had offered to part the water around them, but he refused to allow her to lose more blood. He would do this on his own.
Mayana pressed tightly against him as they marched together through the onslaught of ice. Though he imagined she loathed their closeness, he was secretly grateful for it. Even as angry as she was with him, having her close meant more than he wanted to admit. The air around them was thick with white, making it increasingly difficult to see where they were going. Every so often a knifelike shard of ice would hurtle through the air and strike the shield. Ahkin was grateful for the protection, imagining the damage the larger ice shards could do to exposed skin.
“I don’t like this layer,” Mayana said, her teeth chattering.
“I don’t either,” Ahkin said into her ear. “But we have to be getting close to the base soon.”
Ona, however, didn’t seem to mind the snow. The dog leapt around, biting at the wind as though each ice crystal were a fly he wanted to catch. A few times he slipped or slid on a sheet of ice, but was quickly up again, tongue lolling and bounding with joy.
Ahkin rolled his eyes. He wished he could be enjoying himself half as much as the dog was. He gritted his teeth as another knife of ice slammed into his shield.
Mayana’s head suddenly snapped up. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” He had to yell to make himself heard over the incessant whoosh that was making his ears ache. “How can you hear anything over the wind?”
“It sounded like . . . never mind.” She shivered and tightened her grip on her cloak.
“Like what?”
“Like . . . a child crying.”
Ahkin strained his ears, but again, heard nothing but the howling of the wind.
“I probably imagined it.” Mayana shrugged. But her eyes continued to dart back and forth, searching for something she could not see.
They continued on for several more minutes until Mayana stopped.
“Tell me you don’t hear that.”
Ahkin closed his eyes and listened harder. Sure enough, he could hear it. The sound of a child crying somewhere nearby.
“I do,” he said, breathless. “I hear it too.”
Ona had stopped, his ears erect and twitching. Without warning, the dog bolted into the blinding whiteness, his barks echoing off the mountainside.
Before he could stop her, Mayana whipped the knife out of her waistband and cut into her finger. He ground his teeth. She had used so much of her blood so far. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to weaken herself too much.
Mayana broke away from him and threw out her arms. Just as the rain had parted around them in the dead field of grasses, the ice parted around her as if it were a crystal curtain she had pushed aside with her hands. Ahkin supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; ice was water, after all.
“Mayana, wait . . .”
She pushed her hands out farther, and the ice pelting through the wind parted more. She chased after Ona through the tunnel of her own making, following the direction of his barks.
Ahkin cursed and followed after her.
His frozen feet were so numb he was surprised he was able to run, but at least the frigid air reduced some of the swelling in his crushed hand. He squinted through the pelting ice, holding his shield up to protect his face.
“Mayana!” he called, still following the sound of Ona’s barking.
“Over here!” she called back. Her dark silhouette stood framed against swirling white. He ran toward it.
“There.” She pointed to a small figure, shaking and huddled in a cloak in the snow.
Ahkin put a hand in front of her. “Careful, you don’t know what it is.”
“It’s a child! Can’t you hear him crying?”
Something nagged deep within Ahkin’s gut, an instinct he had always learned to trust on the battlefield. And Xibalba was the biggest battlefield of his life.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” he said slowly, never taking his eyes off the huddled form.
“Oh, now you trust your feelings?” She pushed against his arm.
“It’s different than a feeling. This is an instinct, something isn’t . . .” But Mayana threw his arm off completely and approached the sobbing child.
“Are you all right, little one? Are you lost?”
The child, a boy no older than six calendar cycles, slowly lifted himself out of a curled fetal position. His cloak fell off his shoulders into the snow as he sat up. When he turned to face them, Ahkin immediately reached for the knife in his waistband.
The boy’s eyes glowed as red as burning embers. Embers that were set in a face not of a child, but of an old man. Wrinkled, sagging skin so out of place on the body of a child.
Mayana scrambled back as the—Ahkin didn’t know what to call it, but it definitely was not a child—rose to its feet and leered at them with a smile full of sharp, pointed teeth. Ona growled, and the fur on his back stood on end.
From the swirling, white winds behind him, at least six more pairs of eyes suddenly glowed red. More “children” stepped in to join the first, little boys and little girls dressed in simple cloaks and tunics, all with f
aces aged well beyond their bodies and eyes like lit coals.
“Mayana, get behind me,” Ahkin ordered. He angled his knife, terrified about how to handle them all without his good hand.
“You trespass on our mountain,” the little boy said with a voice that did not match his face. It sounded young and innocent, eerily high-pitched. He lifted his hands to expose curled claws at the tips of his fingers. “You must pay.”
Ahkin lifted his knife higher.
The children crouched as if about to pounce.
“Wait!” Mayana said. “I think I know what these are.”
“Demon children?” Ahkin guessed, still not lowering his knife.
“No, they are chaneque. Drop your defensive pose, or they will attack us.”
“What? No! If drop my defensive pose, they will kill us.”
“Ahkin! Listen to me!”
The first little boy leapt at them with the agility of a cat. Ahkin’s shield came up and knocked him aside with a sickening thud. His broken hand might not be able to grab a knife, but his forearm could still hold a shield. He felt awkward switching his shield and knife hands, but it was better than nothing.
“Run!” Ahkin commanded as Ona leapt on one of the next children to stop it from launching itself at Mayana.
Mayana slipped on the ice as the other children let out horrible screeches like monkeys and attacked all at once.
Ahkin ran directly toward them, taking their attention away from Mayana. Sharp teeth sank into his arms and legs, but he shook them off, hitting with both shield and knife. They shrieked and growled like feral beasts intent on ripping him apart. Every time he managed to dislodge one, another appeared. Fear lanced deep into his heart each time he locked eyes with their glowing red gazes.
“Stop!” Mayana yelled suddenly. “We give you an offering to allow us to pass in peace.” She dug her hand into her bag and then threw out a handful of maize kernels. They scattered across the snow like tiny stones.
The demon children stopped, their glowing eyes focused on the kernels.
“We do not wish to offend you. Please take the offering and accept our apology.” She held her hands in the air in submission.
One of the demon children who had been gnawing on his arm looked up at Ahkin, devilish little head cocked as if in question. Blood dripped from his pointed teeth.
“Ahkin, drop the gods-damned knife!”
He looked at the sheer determination on Mayana’s face and loosened his grip. The knife fell into the snow—along with his pride.
The children finally released him and crawled toward the kernels. They scooped them up and then scurried back into the whipping white winds.
Ona was already licking the bite wounds on his arms and legs by the time Ahkin realized what had happened.
“I told you.” Mayana now stomped toward him. “They are chaneque. Nature sprites. They must guard the mountain.”
“Chaneque?” Ahkin rubbed the back of his neck. He had never studied such creatures.
“Yes. They are lesser gods that often guard cenotes and swimming holes in Atl. They sometimes guard forests, meadows, or mountains. As long as you are respectful and give them offerings, they will not harm you. But if you offend them, well . . .” Mayana motioned to where splotches of his blood coated the snow beneath his feet.
“I—I’m sorry. I’ve never encountered chaneque.”
“Now you know. And next time, I hope you can trust me. Instead of almost getting us both killed.”
Ahkin wanted to argue: he could feel his pride bursting to remind her of exactly how she had almost gotten them both killed climbing the mountain. But he silenced it. Because she was right. He hadn’t listened. And he had almost been eaten alive by demon children because of it.
He lifted his face to meet hers. “Fine. You’re . . . right,” he ground out.
The corners of her mouth twitched. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He fought the urge to grimace.
“Now come on,” she continued. “We still have to see what lovely treasures the next level of hell has waiting for us.” She marched back into the pelting ice. “And since my hand is already bleeding, I’m using it to part the ice the rest of the way down, whether you like it or not.”
He smiled to himself. He wasn’t going to argue this time.
Chapter
16
The trek back to Tollan seemed to go much faster than their outward journey to Millacatl. Yemania wondered if it was because her gaze kept wandering to where the new empress bobbed along ahead of her.
She thought over all Coatl had said. “I’m worried about her,” he had told Yemania. At first she thought he was about to reveal that Metzi was ill, that they might lose their last descendant of the sun god. But no, Metzi was as healthy as could be. Coatl was concerned about her heart. He said he feared that the power she had acquired was going to her head, that she might have plans that didn’t involve him anymore.
“But you were all over each other at dinner two nights ago,” Yemania protested. Perhaps her brother was getting paranoid.
“I thought things were fine too, but she sent me out of her room that same night. Today she kept a careful distance between us and would barely talk to me. I’m afraid the council might be getting in her head and convincing her I’m not the best option for a husband.”
Yemania gave him a flat look. “You aren’t.”
Coatl puffed up his chest. “Why not?”
“Well, you helped her kill her brother. And her parents. That’s hardly a good quality in a husband.”
Coatl gave an exasperated groan and threw himself back onto her bed mat. He put a hand over his eyes, rubbing them with exhaustion. “We’ve been over this. I did everything—”
“To save her—yes, I know. And luckily the council doesn’t know anything about what you or Metzi have done, or else you’d be sacrificed as a criminal faster than the snap of a crocodile jaw.”
Coatl ignored her. “They’re still pressuring her to complete her marriage to the storm prince. They think it will end this war with Ehecatl. I know that’s what this is about.”
“Didn’t she do all of this to avoid marrying him? You really think she’d give in that easily? From what I’ve seen of Metzi, she won’t let anyone tell her what to do.” Yemania frowned at him. She remembered how Metzi had put the intimidating lord of Millacatl in his place with a few well-chosen words . . . and threats.
Coatl’s eyes flew open, as though he realized something. “You’re her new handmaiden! You could watch her and find out what’s going on!”
“I don’t know, Coatl. Can’t you ask her yourself?”
He fixed her with eyes bigger than a pleading puppy’s. “Please, Yem.”
She sighed in defeat. “Fine. But I can’t promise I’ll find out anything that will help you. I still think you should talk to her about it.”
And that had been that.
Yemania had no idea what she was supposed to be looking for. Evidence that Metzi wasn’t interested in Coatl anymore? That she had other plans that didn’t involve him? If she did, Yemania was sure they’d all find out soon enough, whether they wanted to or not.
The volcanic plateau of Tollan slowly came closer, until they were winding their way up the paths and through the golden gates carved with ancient hieroglyphs. Though it was night, the city glowed with the otherworldly light of torches reflecting off so much gold. Yemania expected to feel some sense of homecoming when they arrived at the palace, but it still felt as foreign to her as Pahtia had been. Perhaps home was more about those who dwelled within, the people who gave you a sense of belonging, as opposed to a literal place. Yemania wasn’t sure where she felt her home was now. Misted mountains and dark, intense eyes lingered at the edge of her thoughts, but she forced them away. Ochix was gone, and she would never see him again.
Metzi gracefully disembarked from her chair and swept up the steep staircase, servants swarming behind her like a hive of bees following their queen. Coatl stumbled out of his chair and made to follow, but with a wave of her hand, Metzi dismissed him.
“I’m retiring for the night. I’ll send for you if I want you,” she said without looking at him.
Coatl stopped as though he had run into a wall. His eyes slid to meet Yemania’s, and her heart broke at the pleading within him.
Yemania stepped down beside him and squeezed his hand gently. “I will watch her and see what I can learn.”
Coatl tightened his jaw and nodded stiffly. She watched his retreating back disappear into the winding palace hallways, likely to the room that had been his for the last few years as Tollan’s High Healer.
She let out a long breath, threw back her shoulders, and followed Metzi up the stairs.
Though it was night, the palace was bustling. Servants hurried past, balancing stacks of bowls and buckets of cleaning water. Cooks carried baskets of freshly baked breads to the storerooms or gathered their supplies to begin preparing for tomorrow’s meals. Animal keepers led monkeys on thin tethers down a hallway or strode past with colorful macaws perched on their arms. Various nobles and government officials hurried by with tablets and scrolls, oblivious to the world around them.
Yemania made her way across one of the elegant courtyards. She took her time enjoying the lush blooms of various flowers hanging in bowls and overflowing from the tiled planters. Waterfalls trickled into a system of pools that wound through the garden like a glittering snake. She wished she could linger in such a beautiful place a little longer, but her promise to Coatl pushed her along like a phantom wind at her back.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Metzi said the moment Yemania gently pushed aside the beaded curtain leading into the empress’s chambers. The bead hangings rattled behind her as they fell back into place.
