CAPÍTULO
Treinta y cuatro
Rumi pulls me out of the pit, hauling me up and dragging me across the frozen ground. He yanks me upright by my hair. I cry out from the pain blazing against my skull, and he twists me around to face the bamboo cages. They’re empty, but my friends stand beside them, held utterly still by the priest’s magic. Manuel’s eyes flicker toward mine, and I read the anguish in them. Rumi and a couple of other creatures encircle us as the priest looks on with an impatient scowl.
I’m bone weary. Barely able to stand. Above, the day is gray. Thunderclouds hang heavily, ready to slam a wet fist onto earth’s waiting face. The conquered sun is nowhere to be seen; not even one ray of light reaches the ground. The cold is a villain all on its own. Biting and sharp against my skin.
“I’m running out of patience,” the priest says. “Here are your options. One of you will tell me the way to Paititi. If not, you’ll be killed or forced to join my army. It will be easy to find the city once I destroy the jungle. How will the city remain hidden without the trees and animals blocking my way? Now, which one of you will break first?”
Kusi and Chaska remain silent. Manuel shoots me a quick look—one the priest doesn’t miss. When he snaps his fingers, Rumi grabs Manuel and forces him to his knees. I rush forward, enraged, but Rumi holds me at bay. All traces of him are gone. I keep blinking to unsee the feral hatred in the depths of his dark eyes. But it’s still there, inches from mine, breathing cold air into my stunned face. Rumi—Ximena’s friend. The boy she’s enamored with.
This will break her heart.
Kusi is dragged to his knees then pressed shoulder to shoulder with Manuel. Chaska scrambles toward me, and no one stops her. We press close, her fingers digging into my arms. But we look to each other and make a split decision.
We won’t let the priest have Manuel and Kusi without a fight.
I jump onto Rumi’s back and tightly grip his cold throat, but he throws me off as if I were a doll. Chaska fares better. She lands a resounding kick to a monster’s face. But another slams a fist into her side—high, near her ribs. Chaska howls and drops to her knees, clutching herself. Then she’s yanked up, her arms dragged behind her. She kicks backward, but she’s held down by two monsters. Rumi locks me in a tight hold. I squirm, trying to break free.
The boys are unnaturally still—the priest’s magic again. Only their heads are allowed to move.
“Stop!” I scream, struggling. “Stop! Por favor—no!”
Rumi wraps a strong arm around my waist, his claws tearing into my tunic. The long line of his body is pressed to mine, and it feels as if I’m standing against a block of ice. The priest draws something from his leather pack. It’s a bruised flower, the petals crushed but glimmering. “Do you know what this remarkable plant is called?”
When neither boy responds, the man smiles. “In seconds that stubbornness will be a thing of the past.” He cradles the flower as if it were a baby. “This is killasisa.”
A jolt of surprise skids across my skin. It means “moon flower” in the old language.
Moon flower.
Recognition flares in Kusi’s eyes. “It’s not meant—”
“Cease talking,” the priest says coldly.
Manuel’s expression is stricken. I’ve never seen him this way before. A deep well of cavernous shadows mars the skin under his eyes. His lips press together in refusal, but the bleak cast to his face displays his sudden understanding: He won’t be able to keep the flower out of his mouth. Wary resignation settles onto his countenance. I want to run to him, save him from his fate. Manuel turns his head, his lips moving, and through my tears I struggle to understand what he’s saying.
Then at last I hear it.
“Te amo, Catalina.”
He is utterly calm. His words thrum down the length of my spine, and a heartbreaking smile stretches his lips.
“Let me go! Please!” I say between sobs, and try to break free.
But it’s too late.
The priest plucks a single petal. I squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them again, he’s forcing it between Manuel’s closed lips. He plugs Manuel’s nostrils and waits for him to gasp, then he sticks his crooked fingers into Manuel’s mouth to shove the petals down. I scream and scream until my voice is gone. Despair hits every inch of my body, and I bend, clutching my sides. Until I am numb and feel nothing, until the best part of me falls away.
I cannot live through this.
The transformation happens quickly. Manuel slumps to the ground, his skin changing, starting with his mouth and spreading like wildfire to the rest of his body. He groans as his fingers lengthen, his nails deadening into lethal claws. I understand the transformation now. That flower is of the moon—a gift Luna sent down but never used, and was probably left forgotten until this madman found it. It’s as foreign and alien as the moon itself—cold, gleaming white against the heavy black of night’s armor.
Manuel slowly stands, rolls back his broad shoulders, and tilts his head toward the priest. Kusi looks on in horror. Manuel has become a monster of the moon. A victim of this ill-used gift turned into a curse.
With no cure.
When his dark eyes meet mine, it’s only a cursory glance. An assessment of the danger I pose, and nothing more. There is no recognition. No heat in his gaze, no soft smile to his mouth.
He’s gone.
Lost forever.
I stop struggling, and Rumi releases me with a grunt. I drop heavily to my knees. A chasm opens within me, devouring every one of my feelings, hungry to swallow me whole. I can’t breathe. It hurts too much.
The priest shoots me an irritated look. “Are you ready to show me the way to Paititi?”
Somehow my lips remain closed. My heart may be broken, but I will not give up the way to the city. I’ve lost the person I love the most, but I will not give up.
“You think the worst has been done to you?” the priest asks. “I’m in control here, Condesa. And I will continue to take from you until you break.” With a swift smile in my direction, the priest motions for Manuel and points a long crooked finger at Chaska. “Another friend of yours?”
He means to turn her also. Another friend. Gone forever.
Manuel steps toward Chaska. She pales and backs away, but the priest lifts a finger and she freezes. “You have a chance to save her,” he says coldly. “Tell me how to get to Paititi.”
Chaska swallows hard. The muscles in her neck strain—she’s trying to break free of the priest’s magic. “Don’t say anything, Catalina. Do not.”
Tears stream down my cheeks as Manuel takes a step closer, and another. Pale hands lifting. The priest releases his hold on Chaska and she stumbles.
“I’ll have him torture her first,” the priest says. “Rip out each limb—”
My fingers clutch the pale ground until they grow numb. “Stop, please stop.”
Kusi struggles against the priest’s magic, his veins pronounced along his neck. “I will murder you for this!”
“No, I don’t think you will. This is your last chance to tell me where the city of gold lies.”
“Don’t say anything,” Chaska says quickly, shaking as she tries to back away from Manuel.
I can’t stand to look at his cold hatred. If he knew what he was about to do, it’d break his heart. Manuel charges, and somehow Chaska ducks from his reach. He lets out a guttural roar, then turns and swings a great arm. It clocks her in the chest and she flies backward.
“Manuel!” I scream. “Don’t do this!”
I leap to my feet and rush between them, holding up my hands in a pleading gesture. “Listen to me. Listen to my voice. It’s me, Catalina.”
The priest laughs. “You could be his mother; it makes no difference.”
I lock eyes with the monster, but the warmth has vanished from his, replaced by a cold emptiness that widens that chasm inside me. He snaps his teeth at me.
“You don’t want to do this,” I beg. “Man
uel. Por favor.”
The monster reaches for my throat—I jump back, but he takes ahold of my wrist and sends me flying. I land on my side with a sharp thud. Pain shoots down my body. Somehow I get to my knees and crawl toward Chaska. Try one more time. “Manuel, please!”
He doesn’t look in my direction, doesn’t respond at all to his name. I crumble—he’s well and truly gone. And he’s about to murder someone in cold, cold blood. He stomps over to Chaska, who attempts to scramble away.
“Don’t!” I yell, even though I know it’s useless. I shakily get to my feet and take a few steps before Rumi snatches me again. “Manuel, por favor!”
Kusi’s face is nearly purple, but the priest’s hold never wavers.
Manuel bends over, shoves Chaska’s hand away. His claws pierce her flesh—
She screams—
I push to my feet. “Priest! I will take you to Paititi!”
The priest stops Manuel, who straightens. Chaska lies moaning on the ground, clutching her chest. Blood seeps through her fingers. I rush to her side, dropping to my knees. Several puncture wounds mar her chest where Manuel dug in his sharp fingernails. Her face is ashen, her eyes screwed shut in pain.
“Chaska,” I plead, lifting the hem of her shirt to stanch the flow of blood. “Don’t die, don’t die.”
My gut twists, acid coating my tongue. When the priest looks over at me, my stomach clenches painfully. He crooks his finger, and Rumi drags me before the priest.
“Your turn, Condesa.” He bares his teeth. “Don’t you dare lie to me. I feel your blood, the pulse in your neck. I will know if you speak false.”
Shame builds, nearly smothering. There’s no course left, no one to turn to. I don’t have the slightest idea on how to get to Paititi, but if I don’t say something, the priest will have Manuel finish off Chaska and Kusi. If I lie, he’ll do the same.
“Paititi is hidden behind a waterfall,” I say at last.
The priest locks his jaw. “Do you think I’m a fool? There are thousands of waterfalls in this jungle.”
Manuel approaches from behind, then stands beside me, his gaze intent on his master. He looks almost the same—if not for his bone-white skin dotted with inky constellations, and fingers that looked like they’ve been dipped in soot.
I blink. Something presses close, hovering as if riding on the air I breathe—the smallest, most desperate whisper, the level of leaves rustling on a shy gust of wind. I shut my eyes and inhale deeply.
There.
Luna’s silver touch kisses my cheek. Tickles my ear and tousles the wisps of hair at my temples. She swirls around me, a feathery touch, wanting my attention. Begging me to notice her.
I do.
She murmurs secrets into my ear. Her voice grows louder as she tells me what I need to know: of things that happened long ago. Names and places. I am drowning in information. Picturing a priest in a castle hiding behind a false name. He lived among the Llacsans, pretended to befriend them. When I reopen my eyes, I know what to do. Adrenaline pulses in my blood. Spikes my heart rate like a fever. The priest stares at me, his head tilted to the side. “What’s your magic, Condesa?”
For the first time in hours I have a reason to smile. “I am a seer, Umaq.”
He blinks at the sound of his name. “Where did you hear that?”
“From Luna,” I say. “And she isn’t happy with you.”
“You lie,” he says stiffly, but fear claims his face. Deep grooves march across his forehead, and the corners of his mouth tighten. A long silence follows. I don’t dare drop my gaze to the crushed killasisa petals in his palm. Luna once again whispers in my ear. Her words settle into my belly, fortifying me for what’s to come.
Consume. Consume. Consume.
He raises his hand as if to throttle me, but I can’t let him use his magic. I glance toward Kusi, who’s ready to pounce should I distract the priest enough to loosen his hold. Then I glance at Manuel—I wish I’d put the truth together sooner.
“What else did she say?”
I ball my hands into fists. “You will die a painful death at the hands of your enemy.” He pales, and I wait a long beat. “You will not survive me, Umaq.”
He steps back, his jaw slack and his gaze as wide as twin moons on his face.
Kusi leaps to his feet—
Umaq raises his free hand, but I’m already moving toward him. He stops Kusi in his tracks, but I slip close enough to wrench a single petal from his grasp. He lets out a cry of surprise, too dumbfounded to do anything but stare as I swallow it whole. The magic tastes sweet on my tongue, like a crisp morning scented by gardenia and water rushing over polished rocks. And then it transforms into something else entirely—shimmering and silver.
I taste the stars.
Bubbly and sharp, the feeling spreads to every inch of my skin. I am filled with rays of moonlight, a majestic power, the light that always conquers shadows. Everyone steps away from me—the priest, Kusi, and the monsters.
I am Luna, and she is me.
CAPÍTULO
Treinta y cinco
I feel Luna’s presence in every corner of my body, and her quiet power makes me tremble. Magic zips down my spine, shoots sparks from my fingertips. My skin becomes pale, my vision sharper. Her wisdom and generosity infiltrate my soul; her love for humanity coats every inhale and exhale. She becomes stronger, and I struggle to hold on to myself. There’s a whisper of fear present in the back of my mind: I’m scared to disappear—what if I never come back?
Let go, Catalina. It’s the only way.
I do as she says, surrendering myself fully to her magic. To her. It’s as if I’ve relinquished the reins of a too-fast carriage, sliding to make room for another person.
Luna takes charge.
The priest snarls and raises both hands. Killasisa petals flutter to the ground, and I wince at the sight. I never meant for the flower to cause harm. It was a gift for a loyal mortal whom I loved. I see people give flowers to one another all the time, and I wanted to extend the same courtesy. Inti had been right, as he usually is. My brother and I fought brutally. He says I’m too impulsive, that I interfere too much. It’s taken me centuries to see the damage I’ve done by narrowing my regard to only one group of people. I wanted them to forget about my brother and mother; I wanted to be the only one they worshiped.
The time has come for me to make things right.
The boy named Kusi rushes forward, ready to knock Umaq off his feet.
“Wait,” I say, my voice holding all the music in the night.
Kusi slows to a stop, his expression transformed by his rage. He listens because he senses the power beating near my pulse points.
Umaq lifts his hand higher, outrage dawning. “You shouldn’t be able to speak.”
His voice is an annoying buzz in my ears. The force of the heavens fills my veins. Triumph blazes, fiery and red-hot. The priest snarls and snaps his fingers, urging his monsters to rip me in half. Irritation flickers through me. This small human has no love in his cold, misshapen heart. He’d started on this path by wanting better for his tribe, but sank into just wanting more. Why can’t mortals ever be satisfied? My gaze lands on all the turned men, and my heart bleeds for them.
I am their goddess. They are my children, and not meant for this world.
The priest blinks stupidly. “Kill her! Kill her!”
They don’t obey, and Umaq’s jaw drops. He spins, rage contorting his features, and lifts his hands. His magic skims against my edges, picking and teasing, trying to find a weakness. It won’t find any. I step forward as a flash of satisfaction flares at the sight of his gaping mouth.
“What are you?”
“You cannot run from your fate,” I say coldly, and for half a moment I let my eyes fill with moonlight. The priest’s jaw slackens.
“Mercy! Please, I beg you. I can be useful to you,” he pleads. “I can help you, moon goddess. Talk of your greatness, spread your legend throughout Inkasisa. Everyone will
fear you, respect you. Isn’t that what you want? To never be forgotten? You will be the most revered diosa because of me. Consider!”
“If you’re not going to use your heart,” I cut in softly, “then you won’t mind my taking it.”
I lift my palm and a sharp beam of moonlight cuts through the skin protecting his ribs. The razor-edged light slices upward, and the priest drops to the ground, clutching his chest, trying to stop the blood from leaking out. None of his efforts will work. The light cuts right above his heart. Flesh gives like butter. My finger moves again, this time downward. His screams rent the air, destroying the calm night. Blood gushes between his fingers, stains his robe, the white ground. One more cut ought to do it. I slash my hand. The priest falls backward, his arms swinging wide as he smacks the earth.
The priest is no more.
There’s a soft moan, and I turn, recognizing the voice. The girl Chaska lies a few feet away, clutching her wounds. I walk to her, my palms shining. Magic pours from my fingertips and light envelops her. Her breathing becomes steadier.
“Is that better?” I smooth a lock of hair from her face.
The girl’s eyes widen, her lips moving, but not a sound comes out.
“Rest now,” I say, and Chaska’s eyes drift closed. A wave of tenderness washes over me. The girl within me wishes to have the reins back, but I’m not finished yet. My children wait for me. Something must be done, for they cannot stay here.
No. Please. Don’t take Manuel, please.
I hear the request and worry my lip. The girl and I blend together, our hearts beating as one, our breaths coming from the same lungs. My hands are hers, but they shine silver with the power of the moon. “They belong with me now.”
Please.
My eyes fly open at the sudden wave of emotion that crashes into me. Feelings I’d long since forgotten: love, longing, desperate hope. The paralyzing grief of loss.
Please, heal him and Rumi.
“Catalina?” Kusi asks in a gruff voice.
I stare at the human. A friend. A leader of men. Then I glance at the one called Manuel, and my heart wrenches, nearly splitting. Slowly, I walk toward him, place my hands on his, and speak the language of the stars. His skin warms under my fingers, turning scorching hot. The cold bleeds from his body, slowly disappearing. When he blinks, it’s the face of someone who’s woken from the deepest sleep.
Written in Starlight Page 28
