by Sharon Sala
Yuma eyes widened. “There were twin girls in my class at school back in Tahlequah.” Then his expression fell. “But they were white girls. I think they died.”
Layla nodded. “Yes, they did. But this is one of the reasons we have all come here, my little man. We came back to teach the ones who are living here now about the white man. One day he will come, but when he does, our people will have learned how to be stronger. We will not be overwhelmed by their numbers and their weapons and their greed. We will teach our people not to fight between each other, so that our numbers will remain strong. They will learn how to live with the white man without losing themselves and their pride, and if we do that, Firewalker will never come and the world will not be destroyed. You can help by being the first to make friends with two boys. It will be a good thing.”
“I will be the first?”
“Yes. Ah, I hear them coming now.”
He grew still as he looked toward the door. Just before they walked in, he suddenly jumped off her lap and stood on his own.
She smiled to herself. He’d just remembered he was a little man and no longer a boy. It was good.
Cayetano was carrying Evan, and Adam was walking at his side. Their hair was still wet from the bath and all the blood had been washed from their bodies. She was glad. It would have been a horrifying sight for Yuma to first meet them that way.
“Evan is in pain,” Cayetano said. “I have sent for the healer, but he and Adam wanted to meet Yuma first.”
Layla nodded. “Boys, this is Yuma.”
Adam lifted a hand in greeting. “Hi. I’m Adam. This is Evan. I hope it is okay with you that we are here. We were afraid that we would die in the jungle before someone found us.”
Yuma marched forward like a little soldier and shook Adam’s hand, then laid a hand on Evan’s knee.
“Just call me Yuma. Nice to meet you guys. Layla said you were lobos, too.”
“Yes, we have no family but each other.”
Yuma nodded. “So, we have this wolf clan, and even though you’re not Native like us, if you want, you can be in the wolf clan, too.”
Adam saw into this little boy’s heart, and he saw far into the future of his life. This gesture was just the beginning of the impact he would make.
“We would be honored, wouldn’t we Evan?”
Evan nodded, and put a hand on his chest. “Yes. Sorry I feel bad right now, but a python nearly killed me. Adam saved my life.”
Yuma eyed Adam with renewed respect. “A big snake? You killed it?”
“Yes. He is my brother. You would have done the same,” Adam said.
“I must take Evan back. Would you like to come with us, Yuma? The healer will stay with Evan all night. If you want, you and Acat could sleep on your mats in their room. The healer might need Acat’s help,” Cayetano said.
Yuma looked at Layla.
“Yes, you should go. You and Acat will be needed tonight.”
And just like that, the little boy who had cried for their return was all about helping out.
Cayetano glanced at Layla.
“We bathe before we sleep. I will meet you there. There will be food. You eat to stay strong.”
Layla nodded, grateful for the reprieve. She was exhausted.
“Yes, I will eat and I’ll wait for you.”
He left carrying one boy and two chattering beside him.
Layla followed them to the door, watching them going down the hall together and thought to herself how easily Cayetano had fallen into the role of father-figure. It was a good thing, considering their family had grown from one to three in one day. And in a few months, there would be four.
Time heals many things. In this case, it would be a Windwalker’s heart.
She took a wrap to use when she had finished bathing, and headed toward the bath. It was her favorite part of the palace—the water coming in from the natural spring; funneling into the sunken tub and flowing out in a gentle trickle as it moved on through the aqueduct.
A servant was waiting and when she arrived, helped Layla off with all her clothing and steadied her as she stepped down. The woman’s voice was soft, her touch gentle as she picked up the dirty clothes Layla had discarded.
“Are you well, Singing Bird?”
“I will be as soon as I wash away this dirt.”
“I will wash your hair for you,” she offered.
Layla waved her away. “No. I can do it myself. It is late. You can wash my dirty clothes tomorrow. Cayetano will be here, soon. If I need assistance, he will help.”
“It is good that you are back safely,” the little woman said, and then slipped away.
Layla could tell from the few carefully chosen words the servant had used that their abrupt absence had been much discussed. But the worst was now behind them. The boys were here. Hopefully Evan would recover without harm, and all would be right in their world. At least for a while. She knew the time was coming that would mark the anniversary of her murder. They had to get past that day with her alive before there would be a way to change her past.
She ate some of the fruit then began to wash, grateful for the quiet and the sound of trickling water. She was getting ready to wash her hair when Cayetano walked in, naked and fully erect. The lack of modesty among the People was, in a way most endearing, and at the same time, growing up as Layla Birdsong, disconcerting.
He stepped down into the tub and reached for a cloth.
“The healer came?” she asked.
Cayetano nodded. “Yes. Bones are broken here.” He was touching his side. “She says they will heal. She bound his chest and gave him medicine to take away pain.”
“I want to see them before we sleep.”
Cayetano laid a hand on the side of her face.
“Today I saw the woman who led the Last Walk. You have a woman’s soft heart, but a warrior’s spirit. I am proud that you are mine.”
“I am proud to be yours,” she said softly. “Here, use some of this. It will make your skin feel clean.”
She rubbed the crushed root onto his chest and back and then let him scrub to his heart’s content as she washed the jungle out of her hair. Her eyes were closed as she ducked beneath the water to rinse and when she came up, Cayetano was waiting with a look on his face that made her heart skip a beat.
She reached down to grasp his erection and as she did, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her backward.
“Like this?” she whispered, stroking up the extended length of his penis, then stroking down, squeezing ever so slightly as she did.
“Yes, like that,” he whispered, as his eyes closed and his nostrils flared.
She locked her fingers around the erection and began to stroke it, from the base of the shaft up to the hard, swollen head; over and over until Cayetano was about to burst.
Between one breath and the next, he lifted her off her feet and pushed her down on his erection. All she managed was a grunt of surprise before he pushed her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.
“With you,” he said, and began a whole other ride.
Reveling in the tight heat into which he fell, he gritted his teeth and made himself focus on her.
But Layla was already aroused. With the first thrust, he pushed her down hard on his erection, and as he did, a climax hit her so fast she forgot to breathe. She clung to him even harder, afraid that she coming undone.
Unprepared for the swiftness of her release, Cayetano groaned. He was done. His seed was spilling, his head was spinning, and when it had passed, he kissed her hard and took her under.
Layla’s lungs were aching for air when they shot to the surface of the pool. He came up laughing, then carried her out of the water. Ignoring the wrap she brought with her, he carried her naked through the darkened halls, following
the light from the burning torches all the way to their rooms.
By the time he had put her down on her sleeping mat, he was hard all over again. But he took her slower, and when the climax came back, she was ready and waiting. Layla let it roll through her all the way to her toes, and then fell asleep in Cayetano’s arms.
When they next woke, it was morning and a macaw was sitting on their windowsill, scolding for a treat.
Chapter Eighteen
Layla woke abruptly and sat up, looking around in confusion. In her sleep, she’d been standing in a crowd with her arrow notched, searching desperately for sight of Cayetano’s face.
Cayetano woke the moment she left his arms, and reached for her.
“What is wrong?”
“A bad dream. Nothing. I want to go check on the boys. I didn’t do that last night and I feel guilty.”
He smiled. “Last night was for us. If there had been trouble, they would have awakened us.”
She shook her head. “No. I was a bad mother, thinking only of myself.”
She began grabbing clothes, and dressing, then trying to comb out the tangles in her hair, but she’d gone to bed with it wet, and now it was a mess.
“I’ll just braid it,” she said, and quickly divided it into three parts.
Cayetano watched in amazement. “How do you do this when you cannot see behind you?”
“I don’t know. It’s just how it works,” she said. “Will you tie this cord around the ends so it doesn’t come undone?”
He did as she asked, and then she pointed at his naked self.
“Do you intend to go see the boys in this condition?”
He was already erect. “It is of no concern,” he said, and dressed without giving it another thought.
“What if Evan gets a fever? Does your healer know how to cool his body?” she asked, as they hurried down the hall.
“We know,” he said. “You will see.”
And he was right. By the time they neared the boys’ room, they could hear voices.
They walked in to find Adam sitting on one side of Evan’s mat, and Yuma and Acat on the other side. They’d propped Evan’s head up on some pillows and were taking turns feeding him bits of fruit. There was a monkey chattering at the boys from a limb near the window, as if begging for bites.
When they saw Cayetano and Layla enter, Yuma began talking.
Layla smiled. He sounded a lot like the scolding monkey at the window.
“Evan had a fever in the night but he’s better. He likes mango but he doesn’t like these bananas. I think they are a little green.”
“Then we will find him some riper ones,” Layla said, as she knelt beside Adam and laid her hand on Evan’s forehead. “Maybe a little warm, but not bad. How do you feel, Evan?”
“It hurts, but I will get well.”
“Good,” Layla said, and then eyed the dark circles under Adam’s eyes. “And did you sleep?”
“Some. I was glad that Yuma and Acat were here. Evan was talking out of his head. It was scary to hear.”
“Fever does that sometimes,” Layla said. “Have you never had a fever before?”
“Not like that,” he said. “Will it happen again tonight?”
Layla translated to Cayetano.
“I will ask,” he said, and looked to the healer. The tiny woman was sitting in a corner, dozing.
“Little Mouse. How was the night?”
The woman jumped up, shocked that the chief had caught her dozing and quickly began to list all the instructions she had for the family.
“The heat was in his body last night, but we bathed him with water. He is eating. He should not move unless he needs to pass water and then someone must help him stand, and walk with him. He will heal.”
“Good. Good. This we can do. You go now, and if we have need of you again, we will call.”
As she left, they could hear her footsteps scurrying down the hall.
Layla thought the healer’s name fit her behavior very well, although it was different from most of the names in Naaki Chava. “Her name is not like the others. Why is she called Little Mouse?”
“She is like me. My mother was from another tribe. She gave me a name that she knew, instead of one from my father’s people, who are here. Little Mouse came to us as a child. I don’t remember when, but she was always Little Mouse.”
It was the first time Layla thought about different tribes intermingling and marrying.
“Do some tribes steal people from other tribes and then take them into their lives?”
Cayetano nodded. “It happens. Why?”
She sighed. “It is one of the things that we have to learn to stop. No wars between tribes. No killing. No stealing people from their families. No slaves. But, if they want to go, that is another matter.”
He frowned. “It will not be easy to make this stop.”
“Nothing good ever comes easy,” she said.
“That is not true,” he said.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You are very good and also—”
“Stop talking,” she said quickly, and then felt herself blush.
He laughed, pleased with his joke. “I am hungry. Acat. You will bring food. We will eat here with our sons.”
Adam and Evan understood the honor he’d bestowed by referring to them as his sons and translated to Yuma.
Just as quickly as he had embarrassed her, she now had tears in her eyes. She eyed the boys to see how they had taken to the label, and to her delight they were looking at Cayetano with something akin to worship.
“Yes, with our sons,” she echoed, as Acat left.
“Want some more mango?” Yuma asked, holding up a bite for Evan to eat.
He nodded, and so the day began.
***
The City of the Sun was in mourning. Bazat had called his Shamans to the temple, along with two very unhappy citizens who had become unwitting sacrifices to the Gods.
Their families were standing in the crowd below, quietly sobbing as they watched their loved ones brought to the altar. The sun was at its zenith when the first man was pushed down onto his knees; his head shoved onto the blood-stained chopping block.
The Shamans were chanting. Bazat was watching the crowd. They already knew the little War-Gods were gone. They knew their chief was sacrificing one citizen for each God to pacify their anger, for it must have been anger that caused them to leave.
They watched in horror as the axe went up, and then held their breaths as it came down in an arc. It took two more swings before the head was completely severed, but thankfully the victim never knew it. He was already gone.
The second victim was so overcome with fear that his legs would no longer work and had to be dragged to the altar. He was sobbing as the axe came down, cutting off the sound as suddenly as it cut off his head.
The crowd exhaled on a moan.
Bazat looked up just as a large bird flew overhead.
“It is a sign!” he said, pointing at a long-legged bird that often stood in water. “The Gods are happy. Go back to your tasks.”
They quickly obeyed, afraid if they did not, Bazat might decide to sacrifice more. Finally, there was no one left but the families gathering up their loved ones’ bodies to be buried. The fact that they would be buried with honors for their sacrifice was of no comfort to their grief.
Bazat had convinced himself that it was over. His time with the Gods had caused trouble, and he wanted nothing more to do with any of them.
***
The Shamans in Naaki Chava heard of the presence of twins in the palace through the tongues of their servants, but thought nothing of it. They had no forewarning of any problems, and chose not to make trouble for themselves.
All except for Chak. He wanted to see the boys for hims
elf. He would look into their eyes and know if they were a danger. He’d heard that one of them had been injured, but didn’t know how or to what extent, although it didn’t matter. He was taking a poison with him, and if they were bad for Naaki Chava, he would find a way to put it in their food and the problem would be over.
***
Layla was sitting on a stool watching Evan sleep. He was young. His body would heal, but both he and Adam were jumpy, and it was difficult to get a smile from either of them. She suspected they had lived in fear so long that they were afraid to let down their guard.
Yuma was nearby, making toys that were causing quite a stir among the servants. He had a fat piece of cane about five inches in length that was going to be the body of his car, then four slices of cane about two inches thick to be the tires. He cut two lengths from a hard, narrow stick long enough to go through the width of the cane to use for axles, and so the assembly began.
Layla was surprised by his ingenuity, and when she saw what he was making, knew the residents of Naaki Chava were in for their first shock.
Then Cayetano walked in, saw the cane and the pieces, the small awl Yuma was pushing through the cane, and squatted down beside him.
“What is the little wolf cub making?” he asked.
Yuma smiled. He knew enough of the language to know what Cayetano called him and he liked the name.
“I know what it is,” Adam said.
“I know, too,” Evan added.
Cayetano looked at Singing Bird. “Do you know?”
She smiled. “Layla Birdsong knows. Singing Bird would not.”
“Ah, something from your time.”
“Yeah,” Yuma said. “Watch this.”
His little fingers flew as he poked a hole all the way through the longer piece of cane about an inch from one end, and then did the same at the other end.
He pushed the narrow sticks through the holes to make the axles, then shoved the round slices onto the extended parts, turning them into wheels.
Cayetano stared at the object, confused as to what it could possibly represent, but when Yuma set it down and gave it a quick push, he rocked back on his heels.
