The Jade Bones

by Lani Forbes

  Yemania squinted back toward the bathhouse. “Okay, I think she’s inside. Are you ready?”

  Ochix removed his skull-engraved dagger and pricked the tip of his thumb. A drop the color of cinnabar appeared, his eyes misted over, and he held it out in front of him, feeling for the closest servant’s life force. Yemania deposited the small tray of tea she had prepared onto the path and rejoined Ochix, concealed behind the verdure.

  “Found one,” Ochix said quietly, his misty eyes distant and unfocused. “I’m bringing her to us now.”

  An elderly servant woman with a deeply wrinkled yet kind face slowly marched through the bushes. Her features were blank, and her arms hung limply at her sides over her white tunic dress. Her eyes matched Ochix’s, filled with a fine silver mist.

  “Direct her to grab the tray and take it to Metzi. Remember to make it seem like she’s having a seizure so that Metzi doesn’t punish her.”

  Ochix pursed his lips as he concentrated. The woman stooped down and swept up the tray before carrying it toward the bathhouse.

  “What should she say?” Ochix whispered.

  “Have her tell Metzi that I prepared an extra serving of her headache tea just in case she needed it tonight. And keep her face turned away so that Metzi doesn’t notice the clouding in her eyes.”

  Ochix nodded. Yemania could barely hear what was happening over the trickling fountains and waterfalls of the private garden, but she did hear when the tray crashed to the floor and Metzi shrieked.

  “Help!” Metzi cried, sprinting out of the steam bath and wrapping a towel around her waist. “Help!” she screamed again, louder.

  Guards immediately burst into her room, some politely averting their eyes from her barely covered body.

  “What’s wrong, Your Majesty? Why are you bleeding?” barked one of the men wearing a jaguar pelt.

  “I’m fine. But one of the servants, she’s unwell. She dropped the tea tray on me, and the bowls shattered, it must have sliced my arm. But I’ll be fine, just get . . . Yemania.” Even from this distance Yemania could hear the strain in her voice, as though she were fighting the urge to summon Coatl.

  “Your turn, daughter of healing,” Ochix said, smiling at her. “It’s up to you now. I’ll meet you in your room later.”

  Yemania jumped up and trotted toward the side hallway. She’d pretend a servant had already found her and summoned her.

  She ran into the empress’s bedchamber, gasping for breath as though she had been sprinting a long distance. “Are you all right, Metzi? A servant told me to hurry to your room.”

  “Oh, thank the gods.” Metzi grabbed Yemania’s wrist and yanked her toward the steam bath. “One of the servants was taken suddenly ill, like she had a fit of some kind. You have to see to her.”

  Yemania was touched by the level of concern she heard in Metzi’s voice. She actually cared about the elderly servant.

  Yemania squeezed behind Metzi through the narrow doorway into the steam bathhouse. They found the servant already sitting up, rubbing at her forehead. She sat amidst the shattered remains of the tea bowls.

  “W—what happened?” she asked, her hands trembling.

  Metzi crouched down beside her and beckoned Yemania to follow. “Are you all right? You had a kind of seizure and then fell onto the floor. Do you remember anything?”

  Her wrinkled eyes scrunched shut. “I remember bringing in the tea and then my hands seemed to act of their own accord . . . I—I felt as though I lost control of my body! I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, did I hurt you? The bowls just shattered everywhere.”

  “I’m fine.” Metzi waved a dismissive hand. Blood dribbled from a small, jagged cut on her forearm, but nothing serious.

  “A seizure can be frightening,” Yemania said, making her voice calm and soothing. “I imagine it does feel like your body is acting if its own accord. If you are okay with it, Your Majesty, I can make sure this woman is all right before I tend to your arm. It doesn’t seem to be serious.”

  “No, it’s just a cut. I’ll be fine. Make sure her health is not at risk first.”

  Yemania withdrew the clean strip of white linen she has stashed in her pocket. “Let me inspect it for just a moment to make sure it isn’t more serious than I think.”

  Metzi held out her arm, and Yemania pressed the strip of cloth against her skin to clean it. “I need to clear away a little of the blood so I can see how deep it is,” Yemania explained. “Yes, that will heal easily. Let me inspect the servant first and make sure things aren’t more serious.”

  On cue, the woman’s eyes misted over again. She tried to get to her feet but groaned, swaying back until Yemania caught her. The woman’s eyes cleared again, and Yemania silently said a prayer of thanks for Ochix. As she steadied the woman on her feet, she discreetly slipped the strip of linen back into her pocket.

  “Let me take her to my workroom to give her a full health inspection as quickly as possible. Are you all right if I send someone else to heal your cut, since it’s so minor?”

  Metzi ground her teeth together. “Isn’t Coatl the only other healer in the palace?”

  “He is, but I promise you he will be quick.”

  Metzi looked uneasy, but Ochix forced the elderly woman to wobble once more.

  “I’m sorry, Metzi. Let me make sure she’s all right first.”

  Metzi let out a little groan of frustration but eventually conceded. “Fine.”

  Back in her workroom, Yemania pretended to inspect the servant, eventually giving her a clean bill of health and encouraging her to enjoy a night of rest with her family.

  “Thank you, High Healer. You are such a gift.” The old woman ran a hand along Yemania’s cheek before she left.

  Yemania lifted her own hand to touch her warm cheek. The woman had called her a gift. Something to be cherished. She didn’t know why, but such a simple gesture brought tears to her eyes.

  “She’s right, you know.” Ochix appeared in the doorway, crossing his arms and leaning against the golden frame. “You are a gift.”

  “I don’t feel like one sometimes.” Yemania dusted off her hands and started putting away the little stone vials and pots she had taken down from her shelves.

  “Just because you don’t feel like it, doesn’t mean you aren’t.” He pushed himself off the doorway and moved to stand directly behind her. His hands slid around her abdomen and pulled her back against his chest.

  Yemania sighed and leaned her head back against his shoulder. “Too bad you’re the only one who thinks that.”

  “That’s not true.” Ochix leaned down and ran his lips down the length of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “I imagine your brother would have something to say on that matter. And the commoners that will be receiving the remedies you made for them.”

  Yemania scoffed.

  “No one can tell you your worth, Yemania. It’s something you have to discover for yourself. I can say it a thousand times, but until you believe it in your heart, it won’t be true.”

  “If only it were that simple,” she replied.

  “ ‘It is only by my hand, by my face, my heart, my spirit that either I will wither, or I will bloom,’ ” Ochix chanted.

  “That’s beautiful, did you make that up?”

  Ochix chuckled. “No, I wish I did. It’s from another of my favorite poems.”

  Yemania turned her body to face his, snaking her arms up and around his neck. “I didn’t know you were such a poet.”

  Ochix’s mouth twisted into a half smile. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, princess of healing. But you’ll have plenty of time to learn.” Without warning, he lifted her up until she was sitting on her stone worktable. Yemania squealed in surprise.

  His eyebrows scrunched together at a sudden thought. “I forgot to ask you when I first came in. Were you able to get some of
Metzi’s blood?”

  Yemania smiled conspiratorially and reached into her pocket to remove the bloodstained strip of linen. She held it up. “I was. I hope it’s enough to open the blood chest when Coatl returns with it.”

  “How does that work?” Ochix stepped closer and pulled her hips toward him.

  Yemania wrapped her legs teasingly around his waist. “I’ll touch it to the lid and the specially forged stone will register the magic in her blood. It should make it open. Then we can get the star stone and hide it somewhere she can’t find it. I can’t believe the plan worked that well!”

  “I never doubted you for a moment,” Ochix said, lowering his mouth to hers. Yemania arched up and pressed herself into the kiss.

  A throat cleared from the doorway.

  Yemania broke away from Ochix’s lips and leaned around him to greet her brother. But it wasn’t Coatl standing before them with crossed arms and eyes burning with rage.

  It was Metzi.

  Chapter

  35

  Mayana loved swimming.

  Being from Atl, city of water, that was her joy as a child. When they weren’t studying the codices or playing ball games in the temple plaza, she and her brothers would spend hours swimming through the city’s canals or venturing into the jungles to find secluded cenotes.

  Mayana did not love swimming in the frigid waters of the final river separating them from the City of the Dead.

  When she first tested the turbulent black waters by dipping her toes in, the cold seemed to sink deeper than her skin. She felt as if her very bones were freezing. She knew from experience that it was better to dive in than torture herself by prolonging the inevitable. She angled her arms in front of her and jumped.

  Her head submerged, the cold water filling her ears and caressing her skin with icy fingers. When she surfaced again, she kicked out after Ona, who paddled ahead of her with frantic little strokes. Night had fallen, and darkness surrounded them.

  “Come on, Ahkin. We have to swim across now. Tomorrow is our last day to escape.” She motioned with her hand. They left behind the cloaks they’d worn ever since the crashing mountains, knowing they’d never be able to swim in them once they became waterlogged.

  The prince of light frowned at the water, but finally threw the longer strap of his shield over his back and inched his way in. He had wanted to wait until morning to make the swim, but they both knew their time was precious. His body began to shiver as he slowly let the water creep up his skin, first to his knees, then to his waist, the prince hissing and groaning with each step he took forward.

  “Dive in and get it over with,” she called.

  Ahkin cut her a look. “It’s easier this way.”

  Mayana chuckled. “No, it isn’t. Trust me.”

  His voice grew high-pitched as the water covered the plane of his stomach. But then he stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Mayana called to him, swimming closer to shore.

  Ahkin crossed his arms across his chest to suppress his shivering. “I, um”—he cleared his throat—“I can’t . . . swim.”

  Mayana choked on some of the frigid water. “You can’t swim?”

  His jaw tensed. “No.”

  “But we spent all that time together in the pools of the pleasure gardens. I thought you could.”

  “I can stand up in the shallow water of a pool. But that’s different from swimming across a river that’s as wide as a lake. And likely as deep as one too. All with a bad hand.” He lifted his oddly bent fingers for emphasis.

  Mayana thought back to the Sea of the Dead. How had he survived that swim, as they outran the monster crocodile Cipactli? She smacked herself on the forehead. Of course. He had been nearly unconscious, bleeding out, and she had propelled him through the water with her abilities.

  He dropped his eyes and hugged himself tighter. His pride was as shriveled as other parts of him likely were in the freezing water.

  “Do you want me to help you? I can use some of my blood to—”

  “No.” Ahkin rubbed his arms. “It’s fine. I just—maybe Ona can help me? I can hold onto him if I start to struggle. Save your blood for now.”

  Mayana’s face must have shown her suspicion because he added, “I’m not saying that because I don’t want you to help me this time. I mean it. I want you to save your blood to help us later. I have a feeling we are going to need it. Let me at least try this first, and if I need your help, I promise I will ask.”

  Mayana dipped her head in the water and smoothed back her hair. “Fine. But you have to ask.”

  “I will,” Ahkin assured her.

  She continued to tread water, and he whistled for Ona. The dog yipped in excitement and paddled back for him. Ahkin wrapped his injured arm around the dog’s smooth-furred back and with a deep breath of determination, left the safety of the shore.

  Mayana felt a surge of pride. She knew how scared she was to swim a river this large with no idea what lurked below them. And she was comfortable in the water. Ahkin would be fearing the water itself as much as whatever lived within its depths.

  “Do you think there will be any beasts or creatures in it?” Ahkin asked, voicing her thoughts.

  He and Ona reached her, and they slowly made for the distant lights flickering against the night.

  “There will likely be something that tries to stop us. The trial can’t just be the swimming itself.”

  Ahkin grunted. “It should be.”

  Mayana smiled and dipped her head below the surface once more. She propelled herself forward like an otter gracefully dancing through the currents.

  “Show-off,” Ahkin muttered, but his smile was teasing. She splashed at him and dove below again.

  Her ears began to throb from the cold, and she decided it was probably safer to keep her head as dry as possible.

  They swam for what felt like hours. The lights in the distance barely felt any closer. As the shore behind them grew farther and farther away, the waves of the river began to grow more turbulent. Darkness seemed to envelop them entirely. Ahkin clung to Ona, coughing up water each time a rough wave slapped him in the face. Her own arms and legs were beginning to burn with exhaustion.

  “This is the reason they bury dogs or the effigies of dogs with the dead,” Ahkin said, his voice straining with effort.

  “Why?” Mayana panted.

  “Dogs are supposed to guide you across the final river. And I’m sure grateful for him right now.”

  Ona, who appeared to have more energy left than either of them, looked smug.

  “You should come swim closer to us,” Ahkin added. “His body is so warm, and I can tell it’s making a difference for me.”

  “I’m okay for now.” Though her teeth rattled together.

  The cold began to seep its way into her thoughts as well as her skin. Why do you keep fighting? whispers in her ears began to say. Just give up. You will never make it.

  But she fought back. I will make it. If anyone can swim across this river, it’s me.

  But then another hour passed.

  Her lungs struggled to suck down air. Her muscles began to scream as much as her mind, wanting to push away from the cold and the exhaustion but having nowhere to go. Infectious thoughts began to spread, festering and feeding on her strength.

  The Mother goddess never prepared you for this, the whispers insisted.

  No, she let me find the bones of my mother. She has given me a great gift.

  No, she took your mother away from you in the first place. She never should have died.

  It was an accident. The steps of the temple are impossibly steep. She was not the first to fall, nor the last.

  The harder she fought the voices, the angrier they seemed to become that she did not believe them. She began to lose the strength to challenge them. The waves themselves even began t
o look like faces, demon faces with black, soulless eyes, as the whispers in her head crescendoed unbearably.

  You will die here, daughter of water. You are not strong enough. You will never make it.

  You think that prince has learned his lesson? You really think he trusts and accepts the real you? He called you a lying heretic.

  Why fight to return to a family that doesn’t want you anyway? You are a burden to them.

  The empire will never accept you or your beliefs. They will not believe you. You will be sent back here the moment you return.

  Mayana couldn’t take it anymore. Stop it. Stop it! stop it!

  Mayana clawed at the water, almost as if she could dispel the voices if she could drown them out. If she pushed herself hard enough, maybe she could escape them. Outrun them. Ahkin’s warning cry sounded somewhere far behind her.

  You are too sensitive. Too emotional. You think your passion is a gift, but it is a curse. You are too much for anyone to handle. You think the prince of light will marry someone like you? He will eventually see you for what you are. Unstable. Unpredictable. Unsafe. You are not worthy of being trusted, because you are selfish.

  No. I’m not. Her own voice was barely a whimper in her mind.

  The whispers smelled the blood of her greatest fear. Her greatest wound.

  You are selfish! they taunted. You think you care so much, but you only care about yourself. Your own comfort, your own feelings. You care only to protect yourself! You do not believe in the sacrifices because you do not understand the selflessness required for such an act of love. You only love yourself because you secretly fear that no one else ever will . . .

  “Stop!” she screamed, pressing her frozen hands against her ears. Where was Ahkin? She couldn’t see him or Ona above the turbulent surface. She was alone in the waves, in the middle of this endlessly dark river.

  The Mother goddess did not save you, because she doesn’t really care about you. She wants you to die here. You are nothing to her. No more than an ant under the sandal of an emperor. She will not save you . . .

  She screamed again. She couldn’t tell if the water blinding her was from the waves or from her own tears. Another wave crashed into her, forcing water down her throat. She sputtered. Her muscles burned with fatigue. She couldn’t keep going like this. Another wave choked her before she even got the chance to catch her breath.