The Jade Bones

by Lani Forbes

  To her surprise, Ochix laughed. “Oh, daughter of healing. I’ve seen more battlefields than you know. Believe me when I say you don’t have to worry.”

  “Then what happened?” She perched a hand on her jutted hip.

  Ochix shrugged. “I possessed one of the novice warriors and made him cut my leg to make it look like an accident.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Those poor boys had a right to be scared of you. Possessing them without their permission—”

  But Ochix waved a dismissive hand. “He’ll probably go back to the barracks and brag to all of his friends how he bested a demon prince. Trust me, I made the boy’s day.”

  “But why?” Yemania picked up the bowl of alata paste and got down on her knees beside him. “Why would you make him cut you?”

  Ochix lifted his wrap suggestively, exposing the butchered skin of his thigh. “I’ll give you one guess, daughter of healing. You’re a smart one. I’m sure you can figure it out.” His smile was full of mischief.

  Her cheeks raged with fire and she was tempted to slap him. “You’re horrible.”

  “I like to think of myself as clever.”

  “Well, let’s see how clever you think your little plan is when I start cleaning out your wound.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

  His smile faltered slightly.

  To his credit, Ochix didn’t scream when she slathered the alata leaf paste across his bloody gash. He did grit his teeth and groan as though he’d been stabbed again. Her fingers burned where they touched the skin of his leg.

  “Not feeling so clever now, are we?”

  “Depends. What can you do to distract me from the pain?” He reached up and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. He tugged it gently, pulling her face toward his.

  But Yemania pulled back. “No, no, no. I’ve got to stop the bleeding and then you’re going right back down to the fields.” She silently cursed the part of herself that wanted him to stay.

  She pulled out her stingray spine and assessed the depth of the cut. She doubted a single drop of blood would contain enough power to heal such a significant injury. She reached for her small ruby-hilted dagger instead.

  His eyes went wide at the knife. “It’s that bad?”

  Good. He should feel bad for making her waste her own blood for this dangerous little game he was playing. “Yes, it is. I can’t heal it with a single drop. I’ll need more.”

  Ochix’s smile turned sheepish. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get hurt that badly. I just wanted a chance to see you again.”

  “You could see me fine from the training fields. From a distance.”

  “That’s not enough for me,” he said with a growl, making her pulse flutter.

  Yemania cut a slice at the center of her palm and held her hand over the gaping skin. They were both silent for a moment as they watched the skin close back together. When she was finished, she wrapped a strip of cloth around her hand. She’d have Coatl heal it for her later.

  “Where do you think this ends, Ochix? You’re getting married in a little over a week. I’m not a servant that you can use on the side while you sneak around behind your wife’s back. That’s not enough for me. I am the High Healer of Tollan now. I deserve more than that.”

  Ochix dropped his gaze, his lips pursing tightly. “You’re right. You do deserve more than that.”

  “No matter how much I don’t want to say it, we can’t do this”—she motioned her hand between them—“anymore. Whatever this is.”

  The tears were stinging her eyes again, but she forced them back. She had to appear strong in her conviction, before it crumbled into dust at their feet.

  “What do you think would have happened? If I wasn’t being forced to marry her?” he said wistfully, his dark eyes smoldering again.

  Yemania’s stomach clenched. “I don’t know. You would still be in Miquitz. I’d be here. I don’t think we were ever supposed to find each other.” She folded her hands in her lap to stop them from trembling.

  “I disagree. I think we found each other for a reason.”

  Yemania started to shake her head, but Ochix reached up and held her cheeks in his hands. “I’m a prince in my city as well, daughter of healing. I’ve had young women falling over themselves to impress me from the moment I picked up my first sword. Most only care about the title I carry, the power and influence they think they can get through some kind of match with me. Exactly what Metzi is using me for. But none of them, none, has ever held my attention the way you do. You don’t care about my position. If anything, you despise it. I couldn’t wrap my head around a young woman who would risk so much to save the life of someone she’d never met. Someone she had been trained her entire life to hate. And yet, all you saw when you found me was a soul worth saving. There’s such purity in that, Yemania. Most would have run away and left me to die, but you didn’t. I had to figure out why. I had to learn more about this curious sun worshipper that seemed to defy every one of my expectations. And then to see your passion for helping others, your beautifully wounded heart experiencing more in life than most should at your age, a heart that gives you so much tenderness and strength at the same time. I hated that you couldn’t even see those things about yourself. I wanted you to see them.” He swallowed hard. “I wanted to watch as you realized those things for yourself. Help you to see them if I could.”

  Oh gods, he would be the undoing of her. She couldn’t tell him the reasons he had buried himself so deeply in her heart. His playfulness that made her want to laugh and scold him at the same time. The depth that allowed him to talk about things such as love and the purpose of life without shying away from such difficult questions. The strength that hung around him like an aura—the physical strength of a warrior, yes, but also the strength to stand up to his father for something he believed in, even to the point of jeopardizing his own life. The way he seemed to see her, really see her, when so many in her life had dismissed her for not living up to their expectations. He didn’t make the fire for her that day in the jungles. He had let her struggle and encouraged her to do it herself, believing in her and telling her she could.

  It was the kind of connection to another soul she only dreamed about, and she knew they were barely scratching the surface. What depths of the heart could they plumb together if they had the time to slowly learn and explore?

  But they didn’t. Not if they stayed here in Tollan. But where would they run? It was foolish to hope they were destined to be anything more than falling stars crossing paths before continuing on their separate journeys. She would remember him, though, remember the depths to which it was possible to feel connected to another human being. Perhaps if she was lucky, she would find it again someday.

  But she couldn’t put any of her thoughts into actual words. Not as beautifully as he just had, so instead, she said the only words she could think of. They were not her own—but they also were, in a sense. The words of her favorite poem had now become more hers than ever before . . .

  “Because even a drawing cut in obsidian fades,

  and the green feathers, the crown feathers, of the quetzal bird lose their color

  and even the sounds of the waterfall die out in the dry season.

  So, we too, because only for a short while have you loaned us to each other.”

  Her voice broke at the end, and Ochix sucked in a shuddering breath.

  She leaned toward him, the need to kiss him overwhelming her. It would be a kiss of goodbye, a kiss to release him back onto the path the gods had laid out before him.

  He didn’t stop her. The hands holding the sides of her face slid down to cup her neck as their lips met. Soft and sweet as the brush of a moth wing. But the taste of him ignited something within her, and Yemania wanted nothing more than to fan the feeling inside herself into flame. He pulled her onto his lap until she straddled him. Sh
e deepened the kiss, pressing herself against him in a way that felt entirely foreign yet achingly familiar. If she was going to say goodbye, she might as well do it properly.

  Her fingers plunged into his long hair as his lips moved down her jaw to her throat. She pushed him back until he fell with a soft flump against the cushions, pulling her with him. Their lips met again with fevered intensity, his hands running trails of heat along the length of her back. He pulled at the strap of her dress and, with a rip, the fabric came apart to expose her bare shoulder. He pressed a kiss against the soft, tender skin at the nape of her neck and she shivered.

  But then, a clatter of beads sounded behind them.

  And Coatl’s curse echoed around the small room.

  Chapter

  29

  Ahkin did not stop running.

  He wove through the trees like a night spirit, cutting back and forth to make it harder for the jaguar beast to follow him. His mind flashed back to his training under Yaotl on evading pursuing enemies. His eyes scanned the forest floor, the trees, looking for anything he could use to his advantage. But he couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him, the fog around him growing thicker the farther away from the river of scorpions he got. He wouldn’t be able to outrun it for long, which meant he needed another option.

  Something hard crunched beneath his foot. He looked down to find it trapped within the collapsed rib cage of a bleached white skeleton. All around him lay a graveyard of discarded bones, broken and jagged. Whatever jaws had devoured them had not been gentle.

  “Ugh!” He shook his foot free, but an idea began to take shape. A trapping technique he’d seen hunters use for bigger game. It was all he had time to do. He gathered as many of the sharpest slivers he could find. Femurs splintered in half, ribs protruding like broken teeth. There wouldn’t be time to dig a hole, but he didn’t need to kill it, just incapacitate it enough for him to escape. He set his trap between two trees, ensuring the beast had no path forward except through. He jammed an armful of bones into the earth, where they stuck out like spearpoints waiting for flesh. Now all he had to do was make sure the beast ran across them. The sound of thudding paws grew closer.

  He positioned himself on the other side and waited. When its spotted fur and golden eyes came into view, he raised his arms and yelled. The jaguar lowered itself into a hunting crouch and slinked toward him. Ahkin darted between the trees, knowing it would trigger its need to chase. Sure enough, the beast leapt toward him, but the moment its paws crossed the tree line, it suddenly drew back with a roar of pain. Ahkin didn’t stay to watch the beast try and pry the bone shards from its wounded paw. He bolted back toward the scorpion river.

  Another roar made his teeth rattle, and he swore his heart was trying to break free from his chest and run ahead of him. More roars sounded. The thud of multiple sets of paws.

  The beast was no longer alone in its hunt.

  Ahkin muttered a curse. He couldn’t lead them all back to the river—to Mayana. He’d need to lead them in the opposite direction. So with a growing sense of dread, he turned and ran deeper in the heart of the forest instead.

  The growling and pounding now began to engulf him, sounding all around instead of just behind. They were trying to corner him, surround him, and cut him off from escape. He thought of the broken skeletons littering the forest floor and a shiver of panic ran through him. If he did not figure out another plan fast, he would soon join them.

  Something large and dark loomed through the mist ahead of him. He froze for the length of a breath, afraid it might be another fresh horror of Xibalba. But his moment of hesitation cost him. He turned just as one of the beasts pounced, claws raking across his chest and stomach. Searing pain overwhelmed his senses. Hot blood gushed down his torso. These cuts were not as shallow as those on his back. His flesh had torn apart to expose muscle and sinew. His good fist clenched, and a bright light shone from the shield of Huitzilopochtli, right into the jaguar’s amber-colored eyes. It howled in pain and threw itself back, pawing at its face.

  Ahkin pressed his hands against the wounds, knowing it would not be enough to staunch the bleeding. He stumbled, head swimming. He had to keep moving. What lay ahead remained a mystery, but behind him was certain death. He could not let these beasts rip his heart from his chest, though they had certainly come close.

  A rocky outcropping materialized through the mist, jutting out of the ground and littered with boulders around its base. Ahkin headed straight for it. Perhaps if he could wedge himself into a space they could not reach . . .

  He dodged between the bigger boulders, his eyes scanning for any crevice or hole big enough for him to squeeze himself into. A low fissure ran along the base of the solid black stone. It was tall enough for a small child to walk beneath, but definitely too small for the monstrous jaguars closing in around him. He counted one, two, three of them now. He threw himself beneath the ledge, dragging himself deeper into the crevice as claws raked against the stone opening, snapping jaws attempting to reach him underneath the rock.

  He hit the back wall of the fissure and flipped onto his back, gasping for breath as the beasts continued to prowl outside. His hands were sticky with his own blood, which now coated him as thoroughly as if he had gone swimming in the River of Blood again.

  The edges of his vision began to blur, and his pulse pounded inside his ears. His breathing increased. He had to calm himself before he went into shock and his body began to shut down.

  But he couldn’t.

  There was no way out. The moment he left this crevice, the jaguars would consume him like a deer carcass. They would leave his bones to bleach upon the forest floor like the skeletons he’d stumbled across. The truth of his situation washed over him. One of you will not survive. He was going to die here. Bleed to death beneath the rocks.

  He would never see Mayana again.

  He hoped she had managed to get away. He slammed a fist against the dirt floor. He hadn’t even managed to get her safely to the City of the Dead. Failed. He had failed her, again and again and again.

  He deserved to die here, to rot in the underworld. His mistakes, his inability to handle his responsibilities. Everything came back to him. His shoulders that hadn’t been strong enough to hold the burden of his birthright. The shame burned far worse than the flame of any fire. He was sick with it.

  He curled into himself, a turtle trying to protect its fragile underbelly, and waited for the darkness to claim him as he bled out.

  A cold hand touched his shoulder, and Ahkin jerked awake. Outside, the massive spotted paws of the prowling leopards continued to pace, long tails twitching with impatience.

  He looked up, expecting to see the Lord of the Dead come to lead his soul away from his body. What he did not expect to see was . . .

  His father.

  Emperor Acatl sat beside him, the feathered headpiece he wore as translucent as the silvery tone of his skin. His face was just as Ahkin remembered it: lightly lined, wide and friendly, beads of jade inlaid in his front two teeth. Necklaces of ghostly feathers and beads hung around his neck.

  Ahkin scrambled to sit up but hissed in pain at the wounds on his chest.

  “Don’t move so quickly, son, you’ll do more damage.”

  “I’m not dead yet?”

  Emperor Acatl fixed him with mournful eyes. “No, you are not dead yet.”

  “But I will be soon?”

  His father did not answer, only smiled and drank in the sight of his son. “You have been so strong. I am proud of you.”

  Ahkin felt as though claws had sunk into his heart. He dropped his head. His father had come to welcome him into the realm of spirits. “You shouldn’t be. I failed you. I failed Mayana. Everyone in the empire.”

  The emperor cocked his head to the side. “Why do you think that is?”

  “So you don’t deny that I’ve failed everyo
ne?” The confirmation felt painfully hollow in his stomach. Of course his father agreed. It was obvious he had.

  His father sighed heavily. “My son. There is still so much you have to learn—”

  “I know, I was never ready to—”

  “Let me finish, boy.” Acatl smiled with teasing exasperation. “Do you know why I was such a successful emperor?”

  “You were an accomplished warrior. You always knew the right decisions to make. You always knew exactly what to do, and everyone trusted you because they knew you would take care of them.”

  “No, Ahkin. You fail to understand. You have not been able to carry the burden of so much responsibility by yourself, because you were never meant to carry it by yourself.”

  Ahkin sucked in a painful breath. “I don’t understand.”

  “Obviously.” His father winked. “You think everything depends on you. Your choices, your actions. You take the weight of the world onto yourself. You try to study and plan and prepare and predict, and yet you fail because you still have not learned the most important lesson I wanted to teach you.”

  Ahkin’s eyes stung. He tried to blink it away. He hadn’t learned enough after all.

  “The world is a terrifying place. Cruel. Unforgiving. But I was a great emperor because I learned I did not have to do it alone. I had a council of those I trusted. Advisors and delegates to help me make those decisions. You should know that yourself as a soldier. You can face the fiercest battles not because you aren’t afraid, but because your brothers are by your side. They give you the courage to charge. But more than that, I felt whole in myself because I had found my true duality, and we ruled the empire together.”

  “Your duality?”

  “Yes. My duality. The complement to my soul. Your duality is another human to connect with you on the most intimate of levels. To know you as no one else knows you, to accept you for who you really are. To teach you what no one else can teach you. A cord made of a single strand is easily broken, but a cord made with two is much stronger. If one falls, there is another there to lift them up. We as humans are not designed to be solitary creatures.”