“They ought to have left you alone.” A scowl tugs at his mouth. “I knew they admired you, but I never once thought anything was happening.”
I offer a dainty shrug. “I can be quite persuasive.”
He shoots me a dark look.
“Will you tell me about them? About falling in love?”
“For someone who’s expected to make a strategic match, you sure talk about love a lot.”
“I’m not currently in a position to make a strategic match, am I? Who’d want to marry a deposed condesa?” I raise a brow. “You’re avoiding the question.”
“I had a job to do. I couldn’t afford to develop feelings for anyone.”
“So you’ve been alone these three years? No girl to keep you company?”
“I didn’t say that.”
My mouth snaps closed.
“There was someone, but I was never in love,” he says finally. “That was the problem. I needed access to a tribe in the Tierra Baja, and I used her connection to their leader. She figured it out, but by then the damage was done. I’d broken her heart.”
“I hope you apologized.”
“Why would I do that?”
“You didn’t tell her you were sorry you used her?”
“No.” He seems confused by my question and my outrage. “Because I wasn’t sorry. I could not fail my mission. I’d do it all over again if it meant there was a chance to gain an ally against Atoc.” He hesitates. “She’s a sweet girl, and I’m confident there’ll be someone else who deserves her.”
His tone doesn’t sound like himself. There’s a current of regret hidden under each vowel. Almost wistful.
“But it bothers you all the same,” I say quietly. “To have used someone like that.”
“No. I told you—” He breaks off at my raised eyebrow. Then his lips tighten as he dips his chin a fraction of an inch.
“It bothers me too,” I say. “The people who have worked so hard to put me on the throne. We’ve lost so many over the years. It never gets easier. I want to take care of them all, but I keep asking them to risk their lives.”
He reaches for my hand, but then changes his mind and drops his palm so it rests flat against the stone. “You’re worth it.”
I think about Ximena, and how she changed sides. She would have rather supported my enemies than see me on the throne. “It’s hard to believe sometimes.”
“Most of the good things are,” he says, and his voice is kind and warm, like the softest tunic against my skin. “Try to hold on to them when you hear them.”
“Did you ever find any allies?”
His mouth twists. “No one wanted to openly move against the king. Too afraid, or too far removed from La Ciudad. They remembered the earthquake.”
The earthquake. Atoc’s Pacha magic, the ability to shake the ground beneath our feet. He destroyed whole sections of the city. Hundreds died. And as if that weren’t enough, he found an enchanted gem that had the ability to call up ghosts.
Warriors who didn’t bleed.
I’d held that weapon in my hands. Victory had been in my hands—literally. I’d even called up the ghosts.
Then I dropped it.
Manuel studies me carefully. “Did any of those boys hurt you?”
I make a face. “Of course not. I was only curious.” And maybe it’s because we’re stuck in here without a clear way out, and the possibility of starving looms larger with every passing minute, I decide to venture close to the line he’s drawn between us. The one that’s meant to keep me acting appropriately. “All the other boys flocked over, but you kept your distance.”
“I’m surprised you noticed,” he says, and he sounds almost amused. “There always were a few of them surrounding you. Even when they ought to have been practicing.”
“Were you jealous?” I tease.
“Perhaps,” he says coolly. “Perhaps not.”
My heart flips. I want to provoke him. Flap the unflappable Manuel. Find hidden treasures in his conversation. Sentences I could hold up to the light and marvel at every word. But I stay silent and fight to respect his wishes and not bring up something he’d rather not talk or think about. I force my attention back to the chamber and the three pillars topped by the three statues.
“We might die in here.”
He’s angry now. “You’re not going to die. I won’t let you.”
“I might, Manuel, and there won’t be anything you can do about it.”
A long moment passes, the both of us glowering at each other. Then he lurches to his feet. “The hell you will. Come on. The answer is here somewhere.”
I hold up both hands, and he reluctantly helps me to my feet. He walks to the closest pillar. Once again, I walk around all three columns, this time studying the statues and the carvings along the sides.
This is merely a puzzle, a kind of riddle.
I only have to take in the whole picture and remember the facts, clearing out everything else. Manuel’s heartache over his family. My mission to find the Illari. My own broken heart. I sweep all of that to the side.
Think, Catalina. Think.
All of the statues are the same width and height. The three gods are all wearing robes, facing away from one another, and somewhere on them they are carrying an item of importance. A crown, a pendant, and an amulet.
Perhaps the answer has something to do with that?
I step away from the three pillars, wanting to stare at them all at once. When I do—I finally see it.
“Manuel,” I say. “Why do you suppose the statues are on platforms that spin?”
He comes to stand next to me. “I don’t know.”
“There has to be a reason,” I muse. “Otherwise, why not set them on the flat surface at the top of the pillar? Why have them move at all?”
“All good questions,” he says, taking off his hat to smooth back his hair. “Any ideas?”
I contemplate the three pillars and their corresponding statues until something shifts in my mind and an idea strikes.
Manuel studies me. “What is it? What do you see?”
I point to the statues. “They’re dressed identically, and their faces resemble one another. As if they’re a family—which is monstrous. But look, the artist who carved them designed them as a matching set. They somehow … belong to one another.”
He tilts his head. “Right. I see it. But I still don’t understand what we’re missing.”
“I’m getting to that. Right now they’re all facing away from one another, and it looks wrong. Weird, even. They spin for a reason, so logically there must be a correct direction. If we turn the platforms and have them face one another, the dials might finally work.”
“But there are three of them. How do we get them to face one another? It’s not possible.”
I frown. “True. I wonder if they need to be looking toward the center of the room, instead of away from it. Almost as if they’re pointing to something.”
“But there’s nothing in the center,” he says, walking over the marked floor. “Only this symbol.”
“It can’t hurt to try.” I point to the moon goddess. “I’ll spin Luna. You take care of Inti and Pachamama.”
“All right,” he says, studying the dials on the walls. “I bet the correct way to turn the wheels is counterclockwise, just like the platforms.”
I run to the moon goddess’s pillar and climb up so I can spin the platform around with the statue gazing toward the center of the room. By the time Manuel does the same for the other two, I’m already standing in front of the wheel that has one long dash down the middle.
He looks over at me and nods.
I turn the wheel counterclockwise and it slowly gives under my fingers. “It’s working!” I finish the turn and then run over to the third dial. Manuel spins his wheel with two dashes, and then I complete the turn for the last one. We meet in the middle of the chamber and glance at the vine-covered wall, and then slowly approach it, as if it were feral. I swing the vi
nes to the side. The wall of stone is still there.
We’re still trapped inside.
CAPÍTULO
Catorce
The sound of rock scraping against stone rents the air. We stare at the wall, but it still doesn’t move. I spin away, searching for the source of the noise, and walk toward the pillars.
“Manuel!”
He rushes to my side and we gape at the floor—specifically at the triangle-shaped pattern in the center of the chamber. Whatever we did with the wheels, it’s propelled the stone to move, revealing a deep, dark hole. I walk slowly toward it, but Manuel stops me and pushes me behind him. “Let me check it first.”
I resist rolling my eyes. He carefully makes his way over to the pit and peers into the flat darkness.
“Well?”
“There’s a ladder carved into the wall. I think we’re meant to climb down.” He leans farther, his gaze narrowed. My heart hammers against my ribs.
Loud screeching destroys the quiet.
Manuel drops to the ground as a blur of wings flies out from within the hole. I scream. My knees give way, and I stumble to the floor. The bats swarm above my head, thundering loud, as I crawl toward Manuel. I reach the edge of the hole and gasp. There’s no light at the end. I can’t possibly go down there. A bat swoops to my level and tangles in my hair. Manuel yanks it free, and I wince. Then he places his feet over the edge and onto the first step. Another creature lands on my shoulder, claws piercing my tunic, sinking into my skin. I rip the creature away, and my clothing tears.
Manuel disappears below and I follow him, my body shaking. I lower each foot, trusting there will be another rung, another groove. The stone is cold under my fingertips. We sink lower and lower, the bats shrieking and circling above. I glance over my shoulder and down toward Manuel.
He looks up, his eyes glowing. “¿Estás bien?”
I don’t know how to answer that question. Fatigue is a constant thrum deep under my skin. I can’t speak anyway—terror locks my jaw tight. He seems to understand and resumes moving. Our breaths collide in the narrow tunnel, tangling as they hit the jagged stone. Manuel makes a huffing noise of surprise.
“There’re no more steps,” he says. “I’m going to let go—”
“No!” I cry. “What if—”
“Condesa,” he says firmly. “I’ll call out if it’s safe.”
I catch the moment he loosens his fingers. Wordlessly, he disappears into the dark. There’s a splash and then silence. “Manuel? Manuel!”
“I’m all right!”
My shoulders sag, and I press against the rock. I lower myself to the last available slot, and hesitate.
“It’s all right,” he says. “You can let go. I’ve got you.”
My arms shake. Another opportunity for me to drown. I can’t seem to escape the water in this damn jungle.
“Come on!” he yells. “You can do this.”
I let go. The wind tears into my hair as I hit the water. It’s freezing and it slashes my skin. I come up sputtering. Manuel swims to me, wraps his arms around my shoulders. Then he guides us forward; I can feel his legs kicking near mine. I help him by treading water, imitating his free hand. He glances around, his dark eyes glimmering, providing the only source of light. All around us are craggy walls, uneven and bumpy. The smell reminds me of mushrooms drenched by a thunderstorm.
“No entiendo,” I say, my teeth chattering. “Where can we go?”
He leads me to a protruding ledge big enough to hold on to. I reach out with both hands and cling to it for dear life. Then Manuel drags in a big sip of air before sinking below. For a terrible moment I’m alone in this space. Only the sounds of my breathing interrupt the soft water lapping against the rock. It’s pitch black without Manuel’s Moonsight. And then he breaks the surface.
“Anything?”
Manuel shakes his head, inhales again, and disappears. He does this three more times before finally finding something. “There’s a tunnel—but I don’t know where it leads or if there’s anything on the other side. I can go—” He stops, his lips twisting. “I can go, but I might run out of air looking.”
I reach for his arm, wrap my hands around his wrist, and tug him nearer. He lets me close the distance between us. “You can’t risk it.”
He tilts his head back, and I follow his gaze. Our drop came from directly above us, about twenty feet. There’s no way we can climb back up.
“No,” I moan. “What if you drown?”
He doesn’t say anything. We both know this is our only option, and I hate it. Because if he doesn’t come back, the only available thing for me to do is tread water until I can’t stand the dark anymore. My breath hitches in my throat.
“There’s a way out of here,” Manuel whispers. “I feel it in my bones.”
I’m not ready for him to go.
I can only stare at his face. Grim and decided. He’s as serious as I’ve ever seen him. He’s only waiting to give me time to get used to the idea of him not coming back. Of him dying. I clench my eyes.
They fly open when I feel his rough palm against my cheek. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Manuel.” I lick my lips, and suddenly I can’t speak anymore, even though there’re so many things I want to say to him. But those words remain deep in my heart, afraid to make their journey out into the open where anyone can hear. “I’m thankful for you,” I say finally, and while I mean every word, disappointment lances my body. I want to tell him how I really feel. But I also need to respect his choice, even as it kills me. Because the way he’s looking at me now, with his hand against my cheek, is incredibly tender and almost beckoning me to reveal my secret.
“Shhh,” he says. “This isn’t goodbye.”
He creeps closer, the water pulsing between us as if it were a heartbeat. His fingers glide up my shoulders. Surprise keeps me from moving, but then I press my body against his. Manuel’s luminous eyes widen a fraction, and then he smiles small. Almost shy.
The words rip out of me. “You were the one whose kiss I wanted most,” I whisper. I tilt my chin upward, and his glowing gaze drops to my mouth.
“If I don’t make it back … you need to know.” He bites his bottom lip, and his uncertainty is the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen. “If I were free to choose what I wanted, free to be anyone else, I’d pick you. Over and over again, I’d pick you.”
He gently moves my hands until they grip the craggy wall once more. I’m not ready to let go of him. “Manuel. Espera.”
But before I can say anything else, he disappears.
My fingers dig into the stone. The soft huffs of my breath sound like thunder in my ears. The water laps against the rock, a steady rhythm that echoes my heartbeat. Should I go after him? I don’t want to be alone in this chamber for another second. What if he doesn’t come back? The cloying, dank smell assaults my nose.
My fingers loosen on the ledge. Manuel might need my help. Even now he could be fighting for air, fighting to return to me.
There’s a sudden swell of water and I gasp. He reappears, panting for air. Tears flood my eyes. I let go of the ledge and clumsily swim toward him, reach my arms around his shoulders.
“Estás vivo.” I choke back a sob. “You’re alive.”
Manuel squeezes my waist and a slight tremor goes through him. Then he releases me, and I recognize the change in him. His guard is up again—but the words can never be unsaid. We both know that. “There’s another room at the other end of the tunnel.” His voice becomes matter-of-fact. “You’ll have to swim fast.”
“I’m not a strong swimmer,” I say, fighting panic. “You know that.”
He gently shakes me. “Do you want to live?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”
“Do you want to become queen?”
I try to shove away from him, but he holds on tightly. “You know I do!”
“Then you’ll have to swim to the other side. It’s the only wa
y. You can do this, Condesa—you have to.”
“But—”
He glares at me and my protest dies.
“Are you ready?”
“Of course not,” I wail.
A hint of a smile bends his unyielding mouth. He takes my hand and I inhale until my lungs expand and burn. Then we dip below and Manuel points in the direction of the tunnel. The water is a deep well of gloom. He tugs my hand, and I kick my legs wildly. With my free arm, I push against the water, fighting to go forward. We reach the tunnel together and swim through. But the walls narrow, and Manuel pushes me ahead. I never stop kicking, not even when my lungs start burning.
The mouth of the submerged cave is small, and I use the edge to push myself out. I feel rather than see Manuel behind me. Then he’s beside me, holding my hand again, and we kick to the surface. I come up sputtering, wiping the water from my eyes. This chamber is filled with soft rays of sunlight. The ceiling has plants poking through cracks in the rock formation.
“You did it,” he says with a broad smile. “I’m so proud of you.”
My heart burns as my cheeks flush. I look away, overwhelmed.
“This way,” Manuel says, gesturing toward the edge of the pool. My movements are still awkward, but I manage to stay afloat on my own. I haul myself up, crawl away from the water, and warily get to my feet.
The cave is smaller than I first realized, maybe half the size of the room with the pillars. Behind us are long stretches of hanging vines, varying in thickness. Manuel marches over to the thicket and sweeps them aside, revealing another tunnel.
He looks back at me, then stills, his mouth caught in surprise. His eyes flicker down to my feet and then back up to my face, and warmth spreads over his cheeks. He clears his throat and averts his gaze.
I scrunch my brow and glance down. My tunic and pants stick to my skin, and every line and curve is visible. But instead of feeling embarrassed, I grin. He catches my smirk and his face turns to stone—but his cheeks are still stained red.
Somehow I know if I tease him about it, he’ll only further withdraw behind that wall he’s erected between us. It’s the first time I’ve ever caught him admiring my body. When his gaze isn’t perfectly respectful, his eyes only focus on my face. If there was ever a boy I’d want to stare, it’s Manuel.
Written in Starlight Page 12
