The Glory of Gold (The Inka Land #1)

Chapter 1

Climbing the cliff sides of Lima is nothing like climbing the mountains back home.

I’ve been here at the empire’s capital for eight years, and yet I can’t stop comparing them.

The dry, shrub, and cactus-covered rocks of my childhood feel more and more like a dream, as if the trees growing on the mountainsides are as untouchable as the clouds lining the heavens.

Here, the cliff walls switch between thriving foliage and wet, humid rocks devoid of any life.

Well, they’re usually just wet and humid. After this morning’s rain, my hand struggles to grasp anything more solid than mud.

I try to hold back a cry as the roots under my right hand loosen and give way.

I have to swing my arm to reach something more stable, but my muscles burn in protest, and my arm falls to my side despite my effort.

My knees smash into the rock, but I’m more than okay with the pain.

My success hinges on how close I can force my body to the wall to keep my center of gravity stable and my arms from giving out.

I’m almost to the top, and my body reflects that.

More of my skin is caked in dirt than not.

There’s a thick root above me, just within reach. I’ll need to jump and grab it.

“I won’t be able to pull you up this time, Rei,” Suyai says from the top.

Her voice should startle me, but it does little to break my concentration.

I’m not surprised she’s here. There’s no name for the love we feel for each other, not sisters, not lovers, not friends.

Just us, knowing we’ll always find each other, whether I’m climbing shrouded by the shadows of the palace or lit up by the sun of our shared homeland.

“Oh, screw you,” I say, though I can’t hold back my smile.

Then, I jump. My teeth clench, a cage for the grunt that tries to escape my mouth.

I’m in the air for less than a second, but time slows down to hours.

I hear Suyai’s gasp, a sound I know all too well.

The Ave, Guardian of the heavens, whispers in my ear, the Feline, Guardian of the earth, tenses beneath my hands, and the Serpent, Guardian of the underworld, hisses from the sea.

Then, it all speeds up, and I’m a few feet higher than before, perched on the root I singled out.

It’s over, but when I should be looking up to plot my next move, I look down instead.

The waves beneath me crash against the smooth black rocks of the shore.

They froth at the mouth and bare their teeth at me, singing as the water is pulled back into the sea.

The low trilling of the ocean rushing over the coastal rocks is famous throughout the Tawantinsuyo, the four regions that make up the empire.

Many citizens dream of visiting and hearing it one day, just like I did as a child.

It’s a sound that echoes in my ears ever since Suyai and I arrived at the capital, 12 years old and only the rock and sea’s duet to ground us at night.

We had nothing but each other then. Now, in the calamity times, that’s still true.

Climbing is easy after looking down.

Suyai is sitting cross-legged at the edge, waiting for me.

It’s a very convenient position, given that as soon as I’m over the top my legs tremble, and I collapse on top of her.

She’s silent as she wraps her arms around me.

It’s a short fall to the ground, but she still grips me like we’re falling from the heavens.

“I didn’t know you were this out of shape. Get off of me. You’re built like a lead blanket,” Suyai says and pushes on my waist. I let her move me just an inch, then toss my weight in the opposite direction at the last minute to straddle her.

“I’ll have you know I started this path from beneath the bridge, so take that back,” I say between heavy breaths.

“The Kama do this climb to warm up, ever since…” I trail off.

The Kama, leaders of our military units, have upped their own training along with ours since three days ago, when the diviners signaled an imminent threat to the empire.

I have no problem speaking of the calamity out loud, unlike most people, but Suyai doesn’t want to hear the words.

“You won’t be old enough to apply for any sort of Kama position for another five years.” Her voice is hopeful, like she really still believes we have that time, but that doesn’t matter anymore. The army will be promoting anyone who proves themselves once war breaks out. They’ll have no choice.

“We won’t be old enough, Susu,” I say instead. It’s a constant culling of words now. Suyai may try to hide it, but I know she’s angry about something. She always is these days. “Doesn’t mean we can’t start training now.”

Suyai pushes me off and walks away. My knees buckle as I stand and follow.

She reaches into a pouch secured on the cloth wrapped around her waist. Her waistband is identical to mine, a beautiful black woven from a llama’s coat and embroidered with a golden thread to signify our status as part of the army.

Except hers still has her coca pouch attached. Mine fell halfway through my route.

She takes out enough coca leaves to energize a small army and shoves them into my hand.

Coca leaves will power me through the rest of the day.

I stuff half in my mouth and start to chew as I hide the rest in between the folds of my waistband.

It’s not a regal move, but I’m a soldier, not a princess.

“Sorry, but having to climb that death route every morning doesn’t appeal to me.

I would say it doesn’t appeal to anyone, but it seems everyone in this cursed place has lost their collective minds–” She stops mid-sentence as a group of soldiers run past us, their Kama behind them shouting orders.

It’s a sudden reminder that we aren’t alone.

Midday used to be free time for soldiers not on post. Suyai stares at their backs, unmoving.

I bump her hip and wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to my side.

“You’re getting mud all over me,” she deadpans.

“Good. It’ll make you look a little tougher,” I respond.

“That’s the kind of thing you tell Mare that gets in his head,” she says. “You know, seeing his face today when I told him you couldn’t make it…”

At the mention of her little brother, I blanch. Right, Mare. Mare and Suyai and me, a morning picnic outside the palace grounds during the one hour we all had free. That hour has long passed while I climbed. I turn and walk backwards so I can face her as I speak.

“Susu, listen–“

“Save it for Mare, at least he still accepts your excuses,” Suyai interrupts.

“That’s not fair–“

“But I guess you won’t have to apologize since I already lied for you,” Suyai continues, unwilling to hear a single word out of my mouth.

“You knew where I was! You could have come to get me,” I yell, reaching out to grab her arm, but she rips it out of my hold and walks past me. I growl and grit my teeth. “You’re here now, without him.”

“The last thing I need is to have Mare see you all scratched up and ask what you were doing because you’d actually tell him!

You’d encourage it!” She whips around, and some of her tight curls escape the two ponytails she has resting low on her shoulders.

They stick to her forehead and cheeks because of the sweat lighting up her skin.

Winter is seeping into every corner of the empire, but physical exertion and pure anger heat her from the inside out.

Suyai looks beautiful even when she’s furious.

Maybe even especially when she’s furious.

“You know the kind of propaganda they’re filling his head with?

A calamity has been announced. What if I can help the princess?

” Suyai tries to mimic Mare, but the undertone of stress in her voice kills the illusion.

“He spends all the time he can fighting with the other soldiers’ kids when I spent heavens know how long getting him into nobility classes.

They all want to be the champion at the princess’s side when she finds the Sun Staff.

They don’t understand war. And if history is right, it will be a war, Rei. ”

Suyai’s not wrong, but all I can do is look down to hide the small grin on my face. That’s my boy, fierce and ambitious and brave as hell. The princess may be the one who finds the Sun Staff and carries it into victory, but we’ll be the ones fighting for glory.

“I can’t fucking stand you sometimes, Sinchinrei. You’re actually proud of him, aren’t you? He could be climbing that cliff right behind you, and you’d cheer right up until he fell–“

I grab Suyai’s shoulders and press her against me. She melts into my arms. I raise one hand to stroke her head. We’re the same height, have been since we met at four years old. It’s easy for me to turn my head and give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I didn’t mean to miss our lunch, Susu.” I’m not lying, but we both know I’ll never say I regret it.

She exhales into the curve between my neck and shoulder.

“We can leave, Rei.” She stops talking when my hold on her shoulders tightens.

I sigh and look up. The heavens span above us, uncaring. Ever since the calamity was announced, she’s been suggesting the impossible. She’s been a volatile mix of anger, sadness, and cowardice.

“No, Sinchinrei, you’re going to listen. Because we can leave. Please, we can just leave.” She’s holding back tears, but I won’t take the blame for this one. No. Suyai wants to let go of everything we’ve built here and run away. She wants us to desert our positions.

She doesn’t get it yet. Becoming a unit leader, a Kama, isn’t optional.

It’s a necessary step on our way to becoming heroes of the calamity, like those before us.

Only from five generations ago, they are memorialized in stone.

Their names are whispered in prayer. Those who fight beside the Inka are set for life.

Just like my mother, the Apukispay, leader of the Inka army, is.