It was a grueling challenge, hiking five hours in elevations that would have sent the most seasoned hiker into cardiac arrest. But my body was changing. I could feel it. I was stronger, more alert, in tune with the world in a way I had never been before. I could point to the exact limb a songbird sat on by sound alone without ever even seeing it. I knew where the nearest fresh water flowed by the an unmistakably cool scent carried on the wind. Animals didn’t scurry away from our progress as they would other people, as if they sensed we were more like one of their own than the untamed humans roaming these trails.
It was early afternoon when a brown spec situated on an open slope came into focus. An hour later the tree tops filled with a great cacophony of mismatched sounds that might have been music to deaf people.
“What is that?” I gasped, slapping my hands over my ears.
“It’s Q’ero women making their way down the foot paths. They play hand pipes as they walk, to pass the time and mark their journey.”
“That’s music?”
“To them, yes. Every Q’ero woman spends her childhood making her own hand pipe. They each have a sound as distinctive as its owners’ voice. When Q’ero girls come of age they form a bond with another woman and become partners of sorts. They help each other with everything from chores to childbirth. As they walk along they play their pipes together. It’s an everlasting bond for them, tighter than sisters even.” Chassan explained all this over his shoulder as he sliced into a large vine with his machete, clearing the path for me.
“I never had a sister.”
“Best friend?” Chassan asked.
“Good friends, but never best,” I shook my head, remembering the closest I had come to best friends lately—April, Mattie and Sam. “I always worried they would know I was different if we got too close.” I shrugged, my heart suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds, wistfully thinking of all the things my human life had failed to give me.
“When did you know you weren’t like them?” His pace slowed, and he pulled up even with me.
“A few years ago. I started having visions and that’s certainly not a normal part of high school.” I rolled my eyes at the thought.
“Visions, like, futuristic visions?’
I nodded.
“What else?”
I turned my head to inspect a passing leaf, fearing Chassan might see me struggling with the truth. I knew I couldn’t tell him all of it, and I hoped it wouldn’t come spilling out when I tried to tell him enough to satisfy his curiosity.
“My body’s changing. I’m stronger, more in-tuned. I’m causing things to happen telekinetically, but I have zero control over it. And my visions aren’t just dreams anymore. They’re coming to me during the day now.”
Chassan nodded as he heard all this, eyes focused forward as if lost in thought, all emotion pulled from his face.
“Your magic is waking up,” he sighed and pulled a hand down the back of his neck before he continued. “Once you embrace this life there is no turning back. Are you sure this is what you want?’
“Positive,” I nodded affirmatively.
“Even if he isn’t waiting for you?”
My heavy heart fell straight down to the pit of my stomach where it was swallowed up by a wave of nerves so strong they almost knocked me off my feet.
“Of course, he’s waiting for me. I saw it. He promised.” I babbled, my mind spinning at the possibility of losing him forever.
“Faye, you have to face reality. The bracelet fell from your arm. His promise is broken. If Daoine has her way, you may never see him again.” Chassan wouldn’t look at me, his stoney face a million miles away as if he were a physician delivering bad news.
“No. We will be together. My visions are never wrong.”
“Suit yourself. But, remember I warned you. These answers you seek may lead you to everything or leave you with nothing.” With that, Chassan regained his pace, leaving me dead in my tracks staring at his back.
No! I gritted my teeth and started walking again. I wouldn’t let him make me second guess my future with Dayne. I knew what I had seen. I knew what my future held. Just because Chassan had been wrong about his future when he made his greedy power grab didn’t mean I was wrong too. I had to believe Dayne was coming back to me. Without him, what else did I have?
The brown spec grew on the horizon until we were standing at an ancient stacked stone entry that loomed as perilous and promising as Ennishlough’s gates once had. My stomach tumbled from a combination of nerves, fear and excitement, my knees finally feeling the weight of my pack or the weight of what I would be when I crossed this threshold again.
No century stood on guard, the entrance open to whomever might pass, but I could tell by the way Chassan watched the landscape that eyes were already on us. It was barren, a broad grassland with llamas and alpacas roaming free. Trees and boulders sporadically darkened the landscape to offer a slice of forgiving shade from an unrelenting sun.
A ribbon of sandy trail cut through the parched grassland, just as it had the entire way up the mountain. Worn to a permanent stain on the land by a constant string of foot traffic. A rounded ridge lay to our left, the trail snaking its way up, up and over the massive back of the mountain.
As we crested the ridge, the lands of the Q’ero appeared. Blooming in little pockets of life, the village spilled down a rocky slope. Huts spread in a fan shape over the hillside, surrounding an ornate stacked stone temple at the center. Earth ceased to exist behind the temple, the mountain plunging into a valley so massive its floor could only be imagined. Our arrival on the slope gave way to an ominous roar, more hand pipes, but lower, deeper and menacing.
“Down!” Chassan ordered, taking my hand and jerking me to my knees beside him an instant before we were swarmed by Q’ero warriors, bows and spears drawn, running from behind a scant cover of trees and bushes. I followed Chassan’s every move, eyes diverted to the ground, hands over my head, as a group of painted men covered us like sharks in a feeding frenzy. Fear coursed hot and fast down the length of me, my limbs trembling for fear that the uncontrolled urges of my magic might take over and expose us for what we really were.
An overzealous hand grabbed the shoulder strap of my pack and yanked me to my feet. A move that stole a shriek of absolute horror from my gut so loud it echoed through the valley. In a heartbeat, his neck was firmly clasped in Chassan’s deadly grasp and I was again on my knees in the dirt, coughing and spitting and fighting the tingle that crawled up my spine like fire.
The angry mob rushed Chassan, all but forgetting me after his aggressive move. He released the man’s throat, and stood to his full height, braced and bowed for a fight. Yet there wasn’t a single man brave enough to tackle Chassan alone. They all poked, prodded and yelled from their ragged circle like he was some baited bear.
My brain went into desperate overdrive, terrified Chassan was about to shift into his hunter’s body before their eyes and definitely blow our cover. When a clear voice sliced into the riot, the men fell instantly silent, lowering their weapons and turning on their heels like trained attack dogs. The men snapped to stoney attention, eyes on the ground as if unworthy of the voice, and shuffled away from us. On my knees at Chassan’s feet, I slowly glanced up to find a stately man waiting just past the fray of soldiers, flanked by three other men—two warriors like the ones who had attacked us and one older man decorated with a headpiece of colored feathers bigger than a peacock’s tail.
Still cowered behind Chassan, I rose to my feet, hating myself for being such a coward, but not knowing what else to do. The leader’s gaze stayed firmly on Chassan, not bothering to look at me. He uttered a single word and Chassan reached into his backpack, retrieving the golden chalice from Paititi’s chamber of death and held it aloft.
Oohs and aahs whispered over the crowd, the international sign of awe. The leader took the goblet and gave it a quick once over before waving his hand in a way that dismissed the group like the pack o
f ravenous dogs they were. A smile broke over his brown face and he clapped a welcoming hand on Chassan’s back, picking up an easy chatter as I brushed the dust from my clothes and tried to figure what in the heck had just happened.
The soldiers dispersed just as quickly as they appeared, and we were alone on the ridge with the leader and his escort of three, he and Chassan talking like old friends as they walked to his litter.
The leader stepped into an ornamented chair mounted on two long rods. When he was seated, the two warriors lifted him off the ground, and carried him down the hillside on his portable throne.
“What was that?” I asked, eyes still dull with shock.
“The Q’ero version of welcome,” Chassan answered as he helped me with my pack.
“I’d hate to see unwelcome,” I shook my head as I fell in line behind the king on wobbly knees.
We entered the village in a procession behind the king, everyone bowing and mumbling words of what I assumed were welcome. It was all very solemn and respectful until a little boy caught site of Chassan and let out a whoop of pure joy that called every kid in the village, obviously recognizing Chassan and beyond delighted to see him.
All of a sudden, they were everywhere, scuttling out from tents as we passed, greeting Chassan like a king himself. For what seemed like the hundredth time, I was staggered by Chassan, and reminded I really didn’t know the first thing about him. I had assumed he lived life in a rock when annoying people like me weren’t forcing him from it. Seeing him like this, seeing Rhea’s reaction to him—Chassan was nothing like the legends I learned in Ceila’s cave.
Rounded, laughing faces shouted and cheered, fighting for a place at his side. Dusty little hands disappeared into his pockets and the loosened folds of his pack, greedily grasping for chocolate bars he handed out as we progressed. Silently, I watched in awe as the waist high mob swarmed him, everyone pushing to be near him. So much so that they pushed me out of the way, causing me to fall back against one of the stone buildings we passed.
Stopping for a moment to catch my breath and watch Chassan pass out chocolate bars that held more value than Paititi gold to these children, I noticed there was one set of black eyes locked on me instead of Chassan.
A little girl stood out from the rest, dressed in a spotless white shift with vibrant red flowers woven into the hem and neckline. All the other kids were covered in dust that I was learning was impossible to avoid in this country. The little girl, on the other hand, looked as if she had just stepped from the shower, hair clean and shimmering like oil in the sun, face washed to reveal a lovely russet glow, and sandals impossibly spotless.
I smiled at the little girl and she immediately ran toward me, taking my hand as the others had grabbed onto Chassan’s.
When she looked up at me, I gasped. The world went black and white and I recognized the beautiful black eyes from my visions. They danced and laughed, merry black eyes that looked so adoringly at me I didn’t feel worthy. My heart swelled and ached at the same time, as if she clasped it too tightly in her little brown hand. I’d felt that feeling before, and any reservations I had about traveling to Peru vanished from my mind at the sight of her. Something had led me here. Something had led me to her. Finally, my life was beginning to have purpose.
I wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. That I was with her and whatever was trying to hurt her in my dream wouldn’t. I would protect her no matter what. But things like that would’ve been impossible to explain to an adult, let alone a child.
I settled for squeezing her hand, and she returned the gesture by resting her cheek on my hand as we walked behind Chassan’s mob. Her smooth cheeks, warmed by the sun, sent a pang of happiness straight to my chest. My heart stuttered, overwhelmed by the feeling this little girl stirred inside me. Immediately, I was so protective of her it hurt. I had seen her future. I knew someone wanted to hurt her, and if it was the last thing I did, I would keep that from happening.
Our little parade ended at a stone and thatched roof hut, just outside the fine walls of the temple. With a nod, Chassan answered whatever the leader had said and bowed as the parade continued on.
The little girl turned to me, and speaking in a tongue that was alien to my ears, uttered a few sentences before releasing my hand and departing with the crowd. I wanted to run after her, to call her back, but Chassan stopped me.
“What did she say?” I whirled around to him, desperate to know.
“She said she would come and get you when the women go to the stream for a bath this evening.”
“Who is she?” I turned back, searching for her in the crowd of children.
“The king’s granddaughter.”
“I’ve seen her in my visions, Chassan. She’s in great danger here.”
“Look around you, Faye. They are all in great danger compared to the life you live.” With that Chassan turned, ducking as he entered the hut.
I watched the little girl until I could no longer make out her white dress and then joined him.
There were thick bed rolls laid out in the center of the hut around a stone fireplace. The floor was dirt, covered with layers of dried grass. On either side of the main room stood openings that led to other rooms. Chassan had already managed to release his own pack and walked over to help me with mine. I had grown accustomed to its weight on our hike, and almost forgot I had it on.
It fell to the floor with a dusty thunk and I rolled my shoulders to release the muscles that had supported it, not because they ached but because it seemed like the right thing to do.
“Is this where we’re staying?” I tried not to let my opinion of our prehistoric lodgings show in my voice, but of course Chassan picked up on it.
He frowned and turned to his pack. “You can always go back to the woods if you’d prefer.”
I peered into one of the rooms, seeing it was completely empty. “I’ll probably set up my sleeping bag in here,” I thumbed toward the private room.
“Suit yourself. It gets really cold here at night, but sleep where you want.” Chassan grumbled as he began to take inventory of his camera gear.
“What was that thing you did to Rhea?” I asked, now that we were alone.
Chassan sighed, and set his camera equipment down.
“You know the legend, right? That I transport souls of the dead to my father in heaven?”
I nodded, sitting down on a sturdy wooden stool.
“Well, every soul doesn’t get to go to heaven. Only the good ones.”
“What does that have to do with your hand shake last night?”
“I’m the one who decides which souls ascend, and which souls don’t. With a single touch, I can see the life they’ve lived. Whether it was good. Whether it was bad. Last night, I needed to know if I could trust Rhea. So...” Chassan’s voice drifted off and he shrugged casually.
“So you read her mind?”
He nodded.
“Wait. You saw everything? Just by holding her hand for two seconds?” I gasped, and drew my hand into my chest, scurrying through my thoughts, trying to remember if he’d ever held my hand like he had Rhea’s.
“Everything,” he answered in a low, dull voice.
“Is that why you don’t like being touched?”
His head jerked up, his eyes raking over me from head to heels, obviously surprised I noticed how he recoiled from human contact. Finally he sighed, and dragged a hand through his cropped, golden hair.
“If I’m prepared for contact—if I know the touch is coming—I can control what I do or don’t see. When I’m not prepared, and someone touches me, their life invades my brain like a streak of lightening. All the good and all the bad they’ve ever done.” Chassan chewed at his lip and stared into the corner of the room as he thought. “Believe me, the secrets most people carry around aren’t something you want to see.”
“Yeah, I’m used to seeing a lot of things I don’t wan to see,” I admitted absently as I made a mental note to k
eep my hands off Chassan.
Chapter Sixteen
Writing On The Wall
The king assembled a feast to honor us that evening. Just as she had promised, Anyi, arrived with her servants and took me to bathe in the stream. I didn’t think it was possible that I would ever have another bath that felt as good as that one, after days of hiking in the dust bowls of Peru.
Anyi was endlessly fascinated by my golden curls, insisting on braiding ribbons and flowers into my hair as we sat drying by the river bank. What spoken communication we had was horribly broken Spanish at best, but there was no need for words. We understood each other in a way that strengthened the bond I felt with her even more. I knew why she was immediately a part of my heart, but I had no idea why I was so quickly welcomed into hers.
I was dressed in a bright blue borrowed caftan, hair tied in Anyi’s whimsical up-do, when the women from the palace ushered us into the entrance of the temple. The little girl took my hand and I followed her through the palace halls to dinner, feeling prettier than I had in weeks.
When we burst into an anterior room every servant hit the floor as she walked by. Dinner’s delicious smell hung heavy in the room, a scent that made my deprived tummy rumble.
The little girl snickered behind her hand and I couldn’t help but laugh along with her dancing black eyes.
Chassan sat to the king’s right, deep in conversation. The entire room froze when we arrived, several gasps echoing over the seated guests. My eyes darted around the room, feeling a crimson blush creep into my cheeks as everyone stared at us like we had two heads. When I found Chassan’s eyes, his rage was murderous, but he managed to keep it in check. Barely. Anyi and I made our way to king’s table where Chassan waited. My eyes found the ground, unable to look into his contemptuous golden glare. In turn, Anyi introduced me to her family, each one’s eyes running cautiously over me. I took my seat beside a seething Chassan and felt his anger radiating hot as solar flare.
Son of Sun (Forgotten Gods (Book 2)) Page 13
