Woven in Moonlight (Woven in Moonlight #1)(21)

“Condesa!” Ana calls.

I stop pushing. My hands are shaking, and I’m afraid to meet her gaze. I’ve failed her. Somehow we lock eyes. Her expression is soft and brave, resigned to her fate. It’s in her furtive stare that I understand what she’s trying to tell me. A last message—for her kids, Sofía and Manuel.

For me.

La Ciudad is ours. Inkasisa belongs to us. Never forget it. Fight for every stone, for every handful of soil. Do not show weakness, or you will lose it all.

Her words are as clear as if she had whispered them into my ear. These are the mandates I’ve grown up hearing. The truths that have guided my actions and governed my thoughts. We are the rulers of this great city, and every winding path in it, every building and home, every iron gate that stands at the barrier belongs to us. Illustrians.

Not to this fake king.

Rage blazes beneath my skin, lighting my body as if I were a torch. “Atoc!” I bellow. “You liar! Bastard, heaping pile of—”

Someone shouts in the crowd. For a moment I think it’s the Illustrians launching a rescue. A whirring noise slashes the air, and something hurtles toward one of the guards standing next to an Illustrian prisoner. My breath catches as the guard is lifted off his feet and catapulted into the crowd.

There’s a sudden silence. Another voice cries out, pointing upward toward the parapets lining the plaza. A lone figure dressed entirely in black stands along the edge, holding his telltale slingshot.

El Lobo. The vigilante of Inkasisa.

He lifts an arm in mocking salute to Atoc, who lets out a guttural roar. Mayhem descends in full force: people shouting, feet stomping in frantic escape, overturned carts filling the streets with dried beans and corn and smashed fruit. The ground trembles, cutting through the commotion. Everyone freezes.

Pacha magic. Atoc’s earthquakes. I bend my knees to keep balance, but the sudden shaking forces me to the ground. I’m not alone—the tremor drives all the Llacsans to their knees. I catch sight of El Lobo holding on to a balcony rail as the building sways left to right and back again. The vigilante jumps, reaching an Inkasisa flag. His body spins in a wide arc, and then he lets go, landing onto the crowd and disappearing fully.

This is my moment. I lurch forward, the ground pulsating under my feet. People scramble out of the way, running in the opposite direction of Atoc. He’s climbed onto the platform, seemingly oblivious and unafraid of the waking earth. His arms surge upward and another quake cracks the walls and splits stone. I push closer, trying to reach Ana. Someone trips over my dress, and I curse as we both slam onto the cobblestone. I heave the person off me, desperate to get to my feet.

El Lobo rushes onto the other end of the platform. A silver glint catches sunlight as the vigilante uses a sword to slice at the ropes binding the Illustrian prisoners. The first captive is free, scrambling off the platform, the second follows suit, jumping into the crowd, fastened hands and all, but Ana has fallen onto her side, bound at the wrists. Atoc stands above her, arms still outstretched.

“Lobo!” I scream. “Help her, please!”

The roar of the crowd drowns out my voice. Several guards surround him, and El Lobo is fighting them off with his thin blade. Atoc conjures another massive quake. This one splits open a wide crack near the platform, revealing the deep belly of the earth. Ana tries to crawl away, but Atoc laughs at her attempt and pulls her back by grabbing her hair.

Her eyes widen in terror.

Another earthquake fractures the plaza. The stones slap my knees and my teeth chatter. Before I can push onto my feet, Atoc shoves Ana toward the yawning hole in the cobblestone. Rolling out of control, her feet jerking wildly, she can’t grasp anything because her wrists are bound.

Seconds later Ana vanishes into the earth, screaming the whole way down.

“No!” Tears stream down my face as the ground continues to shake. My fingers can’t find purchase to push myself up. I’m not getting enough air. It hurts to breathe.

Ana is gone.

The earth swallowed her whole.

Somewhere in the madness, I’ve lost sight of El Lobo. He must have broken free of the guards because he’s nowhere to be seen.

Atoc quiets the earth, and he’s the only one left standing. Everyone is a mess of dusted cheeks and hair, skinned flesh and bloody gashes. The plaza is a war zone, buildings nearly toppling over, overturned food and flower carts spilling onto the street.

The memory rolls into my mind swiftly, the scent of smoke and metal strong in my nose. Bellowing cries pierced the black night. Not a single star hung in the sky. Dust and dirt and blood stung my eyes. I sat on the ruins of our house. And somewhere beneath me, my parents lie buried beneath cracked stone.

Atoc’s men rise to their feet, and I shove the recollection from my mind. Horses are found, carts are righted. People slowly come back to life as the shock wears off.

Atoc stalks toward me. He stops when he reaches the tattered hem of my dress. His toes brush the fabric. I tip my head back, not bothering to hide the tears streaking my face. He stares at me, eyes bloodshot and furious.

“Get her out of my sight.”

One of the guards ties my hands with a thick hemp rope. I barely notice. My vision blinks to black, and I taste salt on my tongue. The procession forms its long line—Atoc at the front—and we all travel back to the castillo in single file, battered and filthy. I bring up the rear, the rope yanking me along while I try to keep up on foot. The hemp bites into my skin, rubbing my wrists raw.