Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)(106)

“A shark after all,” he said, after a moment. His drink sat untouched, but now he reached his unbloodied hand forward and took the cup. He sipped from it, and a steadying warmth suffused his body and calmed his shaken nerves. “Very well. We have an agreement.”

“And one more thing.”

“I am feeling disinclined toward favors at the moment.”

“This one is simple enough. Find the Golden Eagle ambassador, the one named Iktan. I need you to pass xir a message for me. Two words only.”

Balam waited.

“She lives.”

He tilted his head. “That’s it?”

“Xe will understand.” She finished her drink. “How will I reach you from Teek?”

He took the small mirror he wore on his waist and placed it on the table. His palm was still bloody, and he shook some of the blood onto the surface. It flowed with shadow. He murmured a few words to bind the passageway. “A drop of your blood on this mirror, and I will know it. When the mirror darkens, speak your tales to the shadow, and I will hear them and be able to speak to you. But only you. If you are discovered, shatter the mirror, and the shadow will aid you.”

He did not say how, thinking of the spy who had swallowed his tongue, but she need not know that.

She reached for the mirror just as there were voices at the door. She looked up, listening.

“Mother!” She slipped the mirror into the pocket of her robe. “Hurry!”

He bolted to his feet and followed her as they raced into the adjoining room. There was a far door that exited to the parallel hallway that was no doubt used for air circulation in the summer months but was now blocked. Together they shoved the bed to the side, and he squeezed out. Before he was even through, she had run back to the receiving room. She took his cup and guzzled what remained before tucking it under a cushion. She flopped down onto her own seat and pulled the bottle close as if it would protect her.

Queen Mahina swept into the room. Balam pressed against the wall to listen, the narrow edge of the open door giving him a sightline. He saw Mahina’s gaze rake over the room, taking in her inebriated daughter, the spatter of blood on the opposite edge of the table, the confusion of blankets and pillows.

“Drunk.” It was a pronouncement of disapproval.

“What else have I to do since you locked me in here?”

“You’re lucky you’re not being dragged to Cuecola in chains. You killed one of the Seven Lords. Do you even understand the implications of what you’ve done? Of course not. You always act without thinking and leave others to clean up your mess.” She gestured to Xiala. “Is this what you’ve done with your life since you left Teek? Spent it in a bottle?”

“Left? I was fifteen, and they banished me.”

Her mother tsked, tongue against teeth. “You were never banished. You ran. If you had stayed and faced the consequences of your actions, perhaps things would have been different.”

“I thought I had killed you! I was a child!”

Her mother’s look was arch and cutting. “Not too young to have a kahnay between your legs.”

Balam did not know the Teek word, but he could easily guess. He could not see Xiala’s face, but she lifted the bottle and drank directly from it.

“Mother waters,” Mahina cursed. “What a mess you are! And I hear it’s your association with another kahnay that’s brought you here. Well, perhaps we should be grateful for that one, but did I raise you no better than this, Xiala? To become entangled with men? If you need love so desperately, there are so many women in this wide world. Teanni still speaks of you. She will be glad to see you again.”

“Teanni was a dalliance.”

Mahina took two quick steps forward and slapped her daughter. Xiala’s head whipped to the side with the force of it. “Do not speak ill of that girl. She has shown you nothing but love.”

“She never tried to find me.”

“And where would she look? How would she go?”

Xiala said nothing. Mahina exhaled, crossing her arms across her chest. “You disappoint me, Xiala, but this”—she gestured around the room, at the xtabentún, at the woman—“can be fixed.” She snatched the bottle up. Xiala did not protest. “The first thing you do is sober up, and then we’ll see to the rest.” She turned to leave, liquor in hand, but paused in the doorway. Her expression flattened, and Balam saw only one emotion on the Teek queen’s face: fear.

And wasn’t that interesting.

“It will all be better once you return to Teek. You’ll see.”

And then she was gone. Xiala folded her arms on the table and dropped her head. He could hear her sobbing softly.

He waited until he was sure Mahina was gone before he slipped out to return to his rooms.





CHAPTER 32


CITY OF TOVA (SUN ROCK)

YEAR 1 OF THE CROW

Know now that Naranpa shall be my worthy successor. She will serve as a light against dark times, a symbol of reason for the world to see. Unto her very death.

—From the Oration of the Sun Priest Kiutue on the Investiture of Naranpa in Year 325 of the Sun



He was waiting at Sun Rock for her.

Naranpa had crossed the Maw and the district of Titidi and the bridge that spanned the width of the Tovasheh. This time, there were no guards to question her, and she wondered if that was Ieyoue’s doing or if the city knew what was to come and huddled behind its wooden doors and mud-brick walls hoping to survive the deluge. Or maybe it was he that cleared her path, and she would find ruined bodies lying in the depths of the canyons below, drowned in shadow.