Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)(63)

“House Balam and House Tuun as allies?” She shrugged. “Perhaps. Although I have yet to understand why I should support you in this war you seek. The last time Cuecola warred, the Sorcerer Prince himself fell. You think you can avoid the same fate if you rule the city alone?”

His face showed surprise.

“Did you not think I knew of your aspirations?”

“I have tried to be discreet.”

“And you have been. I doubt Pech or Sinik or any of the other lords suspect your warmongering is for anything less mundane than lower taxes and more power over the Meridian trade routes. But I am a sorceress by birthright, and I know these things.”

“Because they are your aspirations, too?”

She lifted a shoulder noncommittally. She turned her head, the bright sunlight catching the subtle sheen of gold powder rubbed into the smooth skin at her neck. “We’ll be sleeping on Teek soil tonight,” she observed, her eyes fixed on distant islands that they could not yet see. “I can feel it as we grow closer.”

“The Teek?”

“Their land. It is ancient, their islands the refuse of old volcanoes.”

Balam followed her gaze but saw nothing but endless sea. “I thought the isles of the Crescent Sea were formed by coral reefs.”

“Some of the outliers, but these…” Her expressive shoulders shivered. “I feel them in my bones. Still alive, always growing.”

“The land is made from the remnants of your ancestral gods,” he said, understanding.

“Angry gods that belch fire and sulfur.”

“The stone gods of your house namesake.”

She turned to face him, her eyes glittering under pale brows. “I want them, Balam. Legend says they were once my family’s territory, made from the spine of the great stone serpent god. I want them back.”

“But these islands are already populated,” he observed dryly, “by a people who are quite fond of them, as I understand it.”

“That is my price for your alliance. We both know the Teek fell to the spearmaidens before, and what is left of them can fall again. I simply want them to fall to me.” She smiled, all viper. “To us.”

He held his tongue and kept his face entirely blank.

“You have ten days until we reach Hokaia to decide,” she said. “It is likely that the Teek will not answer the summons of the Treaty, and you only need to convince Hokaia and Golden Eagle to hand the islands over to me.”

He raised a doubting eyebrow. “You would still need an army at your back to enforce such a declaration.”

“Perhaps. Although a cadre of sorcerers may serve just as well if the Teek are as few in number as I suspect. Who knows? They may welcome a new queen.”

He laughed, thinking of the Teek captain he had hired. “I would not count on that. They are stubborn creatures.”

“Then I will bend them until they break, and if you want House Tuun beside you, you will help me do it.”

She pressed a long-nailed hand into his shoulder before she excused herself to go back to the awning where the other Cuecolan lords waited.

Balam stayed a bit longer, letting the sun beat down on his head and warm his skin to a richer brown. He searched the horizon for the islands Tuun could feel in her bones, wondering if a civilization of women with sorcery in their Song awaited them just out of sight. Her demand had taken him by surprise, although he had hidden it well. He thought he knew all about House Tuun and their stone gods, but he had failed to associate them with the volcanoes that dotted the eastern side of the Crescent Sea. He was unfamiliar with the legends Lord Tuun had referred to that gave them to her in birthright, and he suspected the Teek had conflicting tales, but he had no interest in sorting out such history. He simply berated himself for not anticipating her. He had known she was as ambitious as he, and he had thought she might demand a district of Cuecola as payment once he ruled the city, or even a neighboring city of her own. Huecha or some such down the coast. But the lands of the Teek? It was a foolish thing to ask.

Then let her die for it, he thought. Once she has used her magic to topple your enemies’ cities. After she serves her purpose, her fate is no concern of yours.

He rubbed at the back of his overwarm neck, which he suspected was beginning to sunburn. He really should go join the other lords under the awning before he overheated. He could see they were eating small plates of seafood and drinking cold cups of thick papaya juice.

He exhaled a long sigh. He would promise Tuun her islands if it would make her amenable to his cause. She was likely correct, and the Teek were so diminished they would not be much of a challenge. And if they were? He had reconciled himself to a hundred deaths. Why not a thousand? Ten thousand?

He stood, pasted a neutral smile on his face, and went to join his peers.





CHAPTER 20


CITY OF TOVA (COYOTE’S MAW)

YEAR 1 OF THE CROW

And Coyote cried, I have been cast down! Here does the thorn pierce me! There does the rock break my back! And yet I live!

—From Songs of the Coyote



Naranpa called Baaya to her rooms. Denaochi had left her an ensemble worthy of the Sun Priest’s first conference with the bosses. Her skirt was a deep yellow, patterned with narrow lines that seemed to shine like beams of sunlight when she moved, and blue and white ribbon ran along the hem like the horizon at dawn. Her shawl-like blouse was the same shade of yellow, and small string tassels hung from the sleeves, threaded through with blue and white. Her cloak was deer hide lined with dark-dyed fur, dots of white, like stars, placed within, and she wore heavy bands of gold at her wrists and even more as cuffs on her ears and ankles. Baaya also fixed her hair, pulling it back from her face with golden combs while letting the heavy bulk of it fall loose down her back. Her ensemble was regal and meant to impress, and Naranpa donned it like armor.