He falls silent and continues to wash my back. “Can you stand?”
I nod, and with his help I’m back on my feet. His forearm rests against my forehead, and his lips thin to a narrow slash. He mutters a low curse.
I can’t believe he’s touching me. Manuel.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I whisper. “She banished me.”
Manuel’s face darkens. He removes his arm slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. A muscle in his jaw jumps. “What do you mean, banished?”
We’re standing close, inches apart. He’s grown up since he left the Illustrian keep. Filled out in the shoulders, his features no longer soft from boyhood. There’re new lines that cross his forehead. Manuel’s gaze is intent on mine. His anger is palpable, radiating heat like steam coming from a boiling pot.
I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to have it all out right now. But it’s the middle of the night, and who knows what monsters are hunting us. He seems to realize the same because he tugs me away from the water and back up the riverbank. We reach the wall and he stands with feet braced apart, fists on his hips, head tilted back to better study it.
“I can’t climb it.”
“I know,” he says. “But we can’t stay on the ground. The cave is our best hope for survival. There’s only one entry point, and I can defend us from any dangers. Down here …” He trails off. Manuel comes to a decision and turns to face me. “Get on my back.”
“Impossible,” I say. “It’s raining.”
“Barely misting.”
“It’s a long way up—”
“You either get on my back or we stay down here. If we do, it’s over.” There’s a hint of a challenge in his tone. “Don’t tell me you’re ready to quit. The condesa I knew wasn’t afraid of heights.”
“This is very different from climbing the Illustrian tower and you know it.” As children we’d race to the craggy walls and finagle our feet into the grooves, reaching high for the next bit of stone and continuing upward until we’d reached the top. Manuel always teased me that I’d never do it, but of course I did. He quickly learned never to say I couldn’t do something.
“Are you through?” Manuel waits for my reply, patient and quiet.
I summon whatever stubborn energy I have left. I shake my head. He nods, satisfied, and then turns. I place my arms on his shoulders, then wind my legs around his waist. Manuel bounces me up higher. “Do you have a strong enough hold?”
I study the spidery cracks in the wall. “Will you?”
He reaches for the first ledge. My cheek softly glides against the back of his head under the brim of his hat, rustling his dark hair. “Don’t let us fall,” I whisper. My lips almost brush his neck. I’m half out of my mind with fever, my back is raw, but all I can think about is how soft his olive skin looks. It was soft then too, the night he kissed me all those years ago. I’d been surprised, delighted.
Overwhelmed.
I’ve thought about him every day for three years. And now he’s here with me. Inches away. I’m such an idiot. I think it even as I slowly dip forward. I place a feathery kiss right under his left ear.
He immediately stiffens, his arm still outstretched. “Do not do that again.”
Heat floods my cheeks.
“Lo siento,” I say. What was I thinking? It’s been a long time since we played as kids, protected by fortress walls, a long time since we stayed awake all night making up stories about the constellations. He knew my secret and called me by my real name behind closed doors. All the other boys thought I was just a maid, a helpmate to who they thought was the condesa. My proximity to Ximena made me attractive to them, but I knew their attentions were as fickle as thunderstorms. Manuel was the steady ray of light that cut through the fog.
But the Manuel in front of me lost his sense of humor a long time ago. I can see it in the tight lines around his eyes, in the straight edge of his shoulders, straight enough to measure with. There’s only one thing I recognize: his protectiveness.
Always my guardian.
And here he is now, saving me again.
It must be my fever, the lack of sleep. The terror I’m trying to keep deep within me, buried with the rest of my secrets. The realization of how much I missed him. I’m such a fool.
“It’s fine,” he says gruffly. “I’m starting. Don’t …” He clears his throat. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”
Don’t kiss me again. That’s what he means.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “All right.”
He climbs with me clutching at him like a baby monkey. It’s slow going, but he’s sure-footed, as if he’s made this climb many times before. I open my eyes and peer over my shoulder when we’re about halfway up. I’m not afraid of heights, but the view is terrifying. The canopy of trees looks like tiny shrubs meant for a doll’s house. Broccoli tops on cinnamon sticks.
The wind is our constant companion, and with every gust, I cringe. If Manuel were to slip … I try not to think about it. His skin is clammy with sweat. Under the leather vest, the muscles in his back move as he continues the climb. I try not to breathe too heavily. I try to remain still. Manuel groans softly under his breath as he heaves us upward, inch by inch, groove by groove.
We reach the ledge of the cave.
“Catalina,” he says, in between huffs. “You need to climb in first. Do you see the coiled vine near the edge?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t say anything else in order to conserve his strength.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper. “What if I make us fall?”
“Do it. Ahora, por favor.”
My body is trembling, but so is his, from exertion and wariness. I can’t burden him further. I reach for the vine, drawing it closer. It scratches against the hard rock.
Manuel reaches for the vine, wrapping it around his wrist. His arm is faintly vibrating.
“Go. Anda,” he says, his voice rough, as if it’s been scraped against rocks. “Rápido, rápido.”
I haul myself up and over him. My knees scrape against the rock, and once I’m crawling on the ledge, he lets out a sigh of relief. He heaves himself over the ledge, and collapses next to me, legs dangling out of the cave entrance.
I poke his shoulder. Manuel grunts, and the noise startles a laugh out of me. He turns his head, his eyes crinkling with amusement, a soft almost-smile on his lips.
My breath catches. Like his mother, he rarely smiles.
“You did it,” I say. “I don’t know how you did it, but you did it.”
He climbed a vertical slab of granite, without a rope, and with me on his back. He’s kind of amazing. And unrecognizable. The soft boy I remember no longer exists.
Manuel nods as he half drags, half crawls away from the edge. I stare out into the night, the shreds of my pant legs whipping in the breeze. My vision darkens, making everything seem as if it’s touched by shadows. He grabs me by the crook of my elbow and pulls me farther into the cave.
It’s narrow, with no room overhead to stand upright. There’s a single bedroll, along with a small pack—I recognize it as the one he’d left the Illustrian keep with. A pair of stone bowls are stacked against the curved wall, next to a pile of avocados, oranges, and figs. As hungry as I am, I can’t make myself reach for the food.
“Why were you limping?”
I blink at him. “Was I?”
“I’ve never seen you this way,” he says softly. “What’s happened to you?”
The cave doesn’t shield us from the jungle’s steady roar. Monkeys howling, louder and worse than a thunderstorm. Frogs and owls and insects that croak, hoot, and buzz every second. None of this feels real.
I lift the hem of my tattered tunic. “You’ve never seen me in what way?”
I know what I must look like. But his words sink into my flesh like claws. Because he doesn’t mention what’s wrong with my appearance on the outside. He finds the part of me that’s broken, hidden deep.
“I’ve never s
een you look so defeated.” He leans forward and taps the top of my leather boot. “Take off your shoes and socks.”
I stare down at my feet. Pain shoots up from the tips of my toes. “I’m not used to all the walking. That’s why I was limping.”
“Take them off,” he says in a harder voice.
The blisters on my fingers make it hard to untie the leather laces. My vision blurs, and no amount of blinking makes my eyesight clearer. Exhaustion drags my eyelids down. Manuel scoots closer and gently pushes my fingers away from my shoes.
“Let me do this.” He gently tugs the boots and drenched socks off, and then, with the same gentle touch, lifts my right foot onto his knee. I survey the damage through my watery gaze. Blisters mar the tops of every single toe and the bottom heel. Same on the left foot. He reaches for a bowl filled with a poultice, then brushes a thin amount onto each foot.
“You need rest,” he says grimly. “Lots of it.”
Manuel unrolls the slim bedding and gently helps me lie down on my stomach. He rubs the same mixture onto my back, peeling the fabric away with hesitant fingers. “You’re burning up.”
“I feel like I’m on fire.”
He continues running his palms across my wounded back. The medicine feels cool. I want to roll around in it naked.
“Better?”
“Sí. Gracias,” I whisper. “I still can’t believe—”
“Silencio. Descansa.”
“Don’t leave me.” My voice drops to a soft hush. “No me dejes.”
Don’t leave me like you once did, without word. Without a goodbye.
I never hear his response. My eyes shut, and I fall asleep.
CAPÍTULO
Seis
I wake to the sight of Manuel studying me. He’s propped against the curved wall, a bowl of mashed avocados in his lap. His hat is off, and I realize my head is using it as a pillow. I’m lying on my stomach, cool air brushing against my exposed back. I try to push myself up, but my arms are weak and not working properly.
“Easy,” he says softly. “You’ve been out for two days.”
My eyes widen. “¿Dos días?”
He nods once, his lips tight.
Everything comes back in an instant. Arriving to the jungle, my escorts—Rumi the vigilante—the infernal jaguar, the rock wall.
Manuel.
“Where have you been?” I ask. “Three years without word.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I sent word.”
I shut my eyes, realizing my mistake. Of course he wrote—to his mother. Never anything personal to me. Again, I tell myself, why would he? He’s probably forgotten all about the kiss. I don’t say anything; I’ve already been behaving like a besotted fool and I don’t want to pile it on.
Manuel wasn’t easy like the other boys back at the Illustrian camp. Earning smiles from them took nothing. Kisses were even easier. This scout, this ranger of the Illustrian throne, doesn’t hand out his grins to just anyone.
Or his kisses, for that matter. I’d never once heard of him kissing anyone else except me. Why can’t I stop thinking about that night? He’s certainly never going to bring it up.
“Here’s what’s going to happen next,” he says. “I’m going to feed you, and you’re going to eat what you can. And then we’re going to talk. I’ve been sitting here, imagining the worst, and I can’t take not knowing anymore.”
He scoots closer, bringing the stone bowl with him.
Manuel coaxes me into a sitting position. He gently lifts a bowl filled with water to my dry, cracked lips. I gulp it loudly, wanting every last drop, but Manuel firmly keeps me from drinking all of it. I reach for the container, but he shakes his head. “Despacio.”
“But I’m so thirsty.”
“I know,” he says. “You’ll get more. Slowly.”
I cross my arms and eye the bowl.
“Let’s try some food.” Using a wooden spoon—which he probably whittled himself—he feeds me a few bites of the mashed avocado.
My stomach roars to life.
“Not that I’m not thankful,” I say in between chewing. “But do you have anything heartier than avocado?”
He smiles. My heart flutters once, twice, and I tell it to behave. It’s just a smile. Manuel turns to a small fire pit, where a rabbit is propped, ready to be eaten. He cuts small chunks and drops them into the bowl. Silently, he hands everything over to me. He probably realizes that if I’m asking for a heavier meal, then I can feed myself.
He waits patiently, watching me eat, and I’m so hungry, I don’t care if I’ve gotten any of the food on my face or in my hair, which has long since escaped its braid and hangs in a frizzy mess down my shoulders. I must look a sight.
When I’m finished, he takes the bowl and spoon from my hands, and lets me have more water. “Do you want to lie down again?”
I shake my head. Outside, it’s raining still, the clouds heavy and dark. Thunder sounds off in the distance. “Any monsters come calling?”
“No visitors, unless you count the vultures.”
“Vultures?”
He nods. “An enormous flock of them flew past, heading to where I found you. Turkey, yellow-heads, and even a few king vultures. They were excited, fighting among themselves, nearly tearing one another apart to get to whatever was dead on the ground. From the size of the flock, I’d say there was quite a bit of food for them to find.”
“A dead beast, do you think?”
He shakes his head. “Too many vultures for just one animal. I’d say it was a small group of people traveling through.”
I swallow bile. My entourage. They didn’t make it out alive. I shut my eyes. Rumi the healer. My friend and I are done, but my heart splinters for her.
“Catalina,” he says softly. “What is it?”
Goose bumps crawl over my skin. He calls me by name only when he’s thinking of me as a friend and not as his queen. The moments are rare: meals shared with his mother and sister in a closed room, the few times he’d taken me riding around the perimeter of our land, somehow sensing when I needed to be free of the stone walls trapping us inside. Again, times alone were rare. But he’s been calling me by my name since he found me.
“I came in with a group of guards—Llacsans. They were my escorts. One of them was nice to me. I think he’s dead. He must be. What could have attacked them? Another jaguar?”
“There are many monsters in this jungle.”
“I don’t know how anyone can survive this place,” I say, shuddering, remembering the size of the jaguar, its gleaming claws.
“You’re still alive.”
“With your help,” I say. “Luna’s ray of moonlight, too. She led me to that hole, I think.”
“One of my traps,” he says. “It’s how I found you.”
“How long have you been in the forest?”
He waves his hand impatiently. “Later. I need to know—”
“I know you do,” I say. “And I promise I’ll tell you, but I …” I swallow. “Can we just talk about what you’ve been doing first?”
He leans back against the wall, his eyes moving upward to the ceiling. “My mission was to recruit allies by assimilating into the various tribes of the Tierra Baja. I thought that if I could earn their trust, they’d rise against Atoc. But no one dared join us. Every village I lived at, they spoke, one way or another, about the Illari. The tribe driven to the jungle by the Llacsans. They said maybe they’d support us. Out of all the tribes in the Lowlands, the Illari have good reason to hate the Llacsans. I only had to survive the jungle and find the legendary city, Paititi.”
“Did you?” I ask. “Did you find it? Is it really made entirely of gold?”
His gaze drifts downward and lands on mine, oddly flat. “I’ve never seen it. I’ve only ever made it to the outside border of their perimeter. Their heavily guarded perimeter. They don’t take to outsiders, especially Illustrians. My attempts at communication only made them angry and hostile. Eight months in this place a
nd all I have to show for it is a broken nose.”
My mind whirs. There has to be a way to convince the Illari to side with us, to take back the throne. Maybe if they met me, an Illustrian royal, the message would have more weight.
“Your turn, Catalina,” he says. “Why aren’t you at the keep? Is my family safe?”
His words are like shooting arrows, one right after the other, hitting their target.
I take a deep breath. “I don’t quite know where to start. How do I …” I trail off. Should I begin with his family? I shake my head. I don’t have the courage. “We learned that the Estrella—Atoc’s powerful weapon—might be hidden somewhere in the castle. Ximena … Ximena was sent as my decoy. She went to find information, and—” My throat thickens. Thinking about her is too painful; speaking her name makes my heart hurt.
Manuel frowns. “Why would Atoc willingly allow Ximena access to the castle?”
“She went under the guise of posing as Atoc’s fiancée.”
His mouth drops in surprise. “What?”
“Please let me finish,” I say. “It’s a lot and I’m trying to …” I take a deep breath. “Here’s what you need to know. Ximena betrayed me … all of us, and helped place Atoc’s sister, Tamaya, on the throne. Who is now queen of Inkasisa. I refused to accept her as my sovereign, so she banished me. To the jungle. To my death.”
He reacts like I expect him to. Growing silent and wooden as the seconds pass. His light brown eyes shut away behind half-mast lids, and his fingers curl into tight fists. Manuel looks out to the entrance of the cave, his expression carefully blank. He doesn’t want to ask me about his family again. He’s afraid to ask me. I don’t blame him, so I keep the knowledge of their deaths to myself for however much longer he wants to hold on to the hope that they’re alive.
I’m not going to destroy his hope like that, not when I’m the one responsible.
“And what happened to Atoc?”
“Ximena killed him,” I whisper.
His face clears, as if a long-shouldered weight has been lifted off his back. “There’s some good news, at least.”
“Some,” I agree. Until Ximena placed Atoc’s sister on the throne. But Manuel knows that already. When he returns his attention to me, I nearly flinch. His expression is decided and resolved, and I brace myself for what will come next.
Written in Starlight Page 4
