Chapter 11
By the time I’m facing the violent sea wind on the way to the Awarmatu for our debut, every step I take feels like it can crush the boulders beneath me.
The Awarmatu is an elevated wooden palace atop boulders forced into a thick line that reaches far into the ocean.
I adjust my gait for the extra weight of gold littered all over my body, gilded headpiece, earrings, and coins hanging from my clothes and singing with every step.
More gold than I’ve ever seen as a mere soldier.
Everyone, including the Inka, must already be there.
It’s just the princess and her guards, including me as the princess’s champion, making our way to the ceremony as the sun sets.
I can see the shadows of people far off in the various levels of the wooden structure, as well as the security vessels, with their lamps shining like stars between the ocean’s black waves.
I also see the princess’s back, never turning to look at me, not once.
Her every step is confident, and I have no trouble matching it. I’ve walked the black rock coast since I was six years old. I’ve stepped on urchins and dug their needles out of my feet with their own teeth. The princess can’t know these rocks like I do.
But she does know the Awarmatu. It’s a place meant for the Inka and Panaka after all.
I’ve only stepped onto its wooden platform once before, for a festival celebrating the top of the Inka’s army.
I’m not prepared for the way the wood rumbles beneath my feet as a wave crashes into the structure and seeps between the boulders beneath.
I close my eyes and reorient myself after missing a step, stance wider and stronger.
I turn around, and Suyai is there with one other soldier. She’s been a mess since this morning’s incident on the training grounds. I may be handling the responsibility of being the Guardians’ Hero, but she’s dealing with me and Mare, who will be present as Suyai’s ward.
Mare and I can handle ourselves well enough, but Suyai is Suyai, and she won’t stop worrying until we’re all together and safe again.
“And stop,” the soldier at the back screams, and we all come to a standstill.
All of us except the princess, of course.
We need to wait for the signal that marks our official entrance, yet she continues for a few steps before turning around and looking down at us from her upturned nose.
She’s back to neutral and cold, like a dead body.
“Susu,” the nickname slips out as a whisper, too low for the princess or soldier to hear. “Isn’t this crazy?”
“Shut up for once in your life, Sinchinrei,” Suyai says, but I can hear the strained smile in her voice. I know she means I love you, idiot.
I’m too busy looking at her, hoping to see a proper smile break through, to realize the princess has come to my side. Her hand reaches out as if to grab my arm but retreats before I can be sure of the motion.
“Two steps behind me, champion,” she says, and it’s nothing less than whiplash I feel at her soft tone.
“Yes, Princess,” I say, unable to stop myself from matching her softness.
No more words are exchanged as we walk to the entrance. The lights of the Awarmatu grow stronger, orbs like miniature suns floating in the air and lighting up the patio where the majority of the nobles are.
I’m buzzing. It’s the hyper awareness of the two girls with me. It’s the wind in my ears. Careful, it whispers. Be careful. I don’t know how to be careful. I’ve dropped Suyai so many times, I can’t imagine her breaking, the princess even less.
I’ve never been careful in my life, but Suyai always has. Suyai has been careful where I’ve been reckless. She’s been subdued and demure, where I’ve been loud and brash.
That’s why I’m shocked when Suyai’s hair begins to turn white, strand by strand. Suyai doesn’t waste samay for frivolous mimicry. Not unless she needs to.
Suyai bursts into a run and pushes past me, past the princess, straight for the Awarmatu, with Mare’s name on her lips.
For a second, nothing.
Then, an explosion.
The side of the Awarmatu comes to life like a twinkling star.
The screams barely register above the sudden onslaught of waves on the pier. My feet are soaked in seawater that splashes up to my knees. I can barely see the structure in front of me anymore. It’s overcome by the frothing white foam.
“Get back,” the soldier shouts. “Back to the coast, Princ…” His voice is drowned out by the thunder of a boulder dislodging from its place as our foundation. The beginning of the wooden platform creaks once, then cracks into pieces, wood flying into the air only to be swallowed whole by the waves.
There’s no getting back to shore like this.
There’s no getting the princess back to safety.
My body moves the moment I have enough information.
I lunge back to grab the soldier and pull them in front of me.
It’s safer at the Awarmatu’s main structure.
The water is deeper there, and the wood sturdier.
The soldier stumbles but manages to stay on his feet and keep running.
I’m one step behind him and grabbing the princess with my arms.
She rips her arm out of my hold, violent and thrashing until she goes stock still. A statue frozen in time.
“We have to move, princess,” I say, the salt water burning my chapped lips. I reach for her again, slower, letting her eyes track my hand until it reaches her arm. I grab her gently despite the force crashing into my side.
Her eyes are stuck on where my right hand meets her left bicep. Another wave smashes into our sides. They’re strong but not strong enough to break my stance. Yet.
“Princess,” I say again, but she’s still only blinking at my hands. She’s trembling. She’s frozen and trembling, and I can’t do anything but scream. “Yanami,” I yell.
She snaps to attention and looks me in the eyes. She’s a drowned animal.
“I can’t swim,” she whispers, so low I have to guess the words from the movement of her lips. “I can’t swim, champion. I’ll drown.”
I’m shaking my head before she’s done speaking. Careful, the wind whispers. I’m never careful, but I need to be careful with her, this princess turned wild animal.
“You’ll be okay,” I yell while pulling her alongside me, closer and closer to the building. Closer to where Suyai and Mare must be. “I promise you, princess. I promise you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
The princess doesn’t loosen up, but she begins to walk, each step stronger with each promise I make.
Together we fight against the waves beating our feet.
Our gasps are in sync after a wave crashes at us from above and steals our breath.
Somewhere between the assault, our holds on each other turn into bruising, reciprocal marks.
We make it into the chaos of the Awarmatu as twin wretched things.
What remains of the roof stops the deluge enough for me to take stock of the carnage around me.
If it weren’t for the large number of soldiers in attendance fighting with expertise, I would be looking at a massacre. As it is, the amount of blood and flayed flesh invading my sight turns my stomach. When I realize some of the blood is not human, the sight gets worse.
There are rotted animals. Seagulls, pelicans, and fish of all types writhe on the floor, some attacking with the fervor of rabies, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.
They’re bloodied, some crawling without legs, fish flayed open but still jumping as they choke.
How can they still be moving? How can they all still be moving with knives in their sides and skulls smashed in?
They shake in tandem like an army. They attack like one too.
I need to find Suyai and Mare. I need to make sure the princess doesn’t leave my side.
I look at her, and she’s a different beast.
There is no trace of fear on her face. There’s no trace of anything but cold analysis. Even her body has stopped shaking and is warming beneath my touch, whether through mimicry or sheer force of mental will, I don’t know.
Who is she this time?
“Stay close to me,” I shout, though it sounds like a whisper with the chaos around us.
There’s no rhyme or reason to the attacks, other than the underlying pulse that the animals, dead or alive, follow with their movement.
There are groups of people huddled into corners, getting more and more drenched by the minute but safe from the immediate violence.
We need to keep low and discreet like them until I find Suyai and Mare, no matter how much I itch to jump in and clear a way out.
Now isn’t the time for impulse decisions.
The princess must notice the same things I do because she nods her head without argument.
I crouch low, swallowing more salt water as I do.
The fish gasping for air on the floor are the least of our concerns, so I kick them away as we make it further into the main room.
It’s more than disgusting. I feel slime on my leg and see clotted blood on my skin that even the waves crashing onto me don’t wash away. It’s not natural. It’s sick.
“Serpent mimicry,” the princess says, directed at no one. We’re both squinting to avoid getting salt water in our eyes, but there’s something more running through her mind than basic defense.
This can’t be mimicry. This is perverse.
Then I hear a scream I’d recognize anywhere, despite it stemming from fear now rather than excitement. Mare. My eyes zero in on his body, lying immobile on the floor, a bird ripping into his right calf. There’s too much blood. He’s too small.
With his wound, he can’t move.
Then I see Suyai. Her right arm is twisted, blood and her torn clothing hiding the shard of bone I know must be poking out.
She ran in right when the explosion went off.
Gods, she must have been crushed by the decimated building itself.
Still, she limps toward Mare, one hand forcing her bad arm into place.
I tighten my grip on the princess and move faster toward them, my other hand already reaching back to rip my only weapon free from its straps. It’s a ceremonial champi, a mace made of pure silver.
I let go of the princess to use both hands to swing my champi down and crush the animal’s body.
Mare’s scream pierces my ears, and I dive down to cradle his head and cover his mouth.
“Shh,” I whisper. “Shh, Mare, kori, it’s me.” The term of endearment, golden one, calms him down. I rock him back and forth on my arms and look anywhere but the gaping hole in his leg. Suyai is still so far. The chaos between us is a chasm. I have to keep Mare safe for her.
The princess crouches beside me and kicks back a bird with half its body caved in. It fights back more than I thought possible, getting up again and again until it staggers back into the ocean.
Mare is sobbing my name into my tunic. I need him to get up and go with me to Suyai.
“There’s nowhere to go,” the princess says, but I’m too busy looking for Suyai again to respond. “Do you hear me, champion? Listen, there’s nowhere to go.”
“There’s a second floor,” I say, lifting Mare and carrying him. She should know this. “We get up there, and you two can hide until…”
Until this is done? Until I exhaust myself fighting this incessant flood of undead?
We both look around at the destruction. The bodies of nobles who got knocked down in the explosion are being feasted on by the few alive creatures.
The waves are getting higher and higher.
Mobs of people are moving in chaos, crashing into each other, pushing and pulling and fighting for survival.
Suyai is no longer where I saw her, and Mare is bleeding in my arms.
Stay with her, I hear, and I want to scream.
Stay with her. Her. Her. Her. You’re meant to serve…
The words sync with my heartbeat, and I hear them one and the same.
“Rei, please! Where’s Su-suyai?” Mare sobs into my neck, but I don’t have an answer for him. I lost her in the mass of people. I turn to look at the princess, looking for what? I don’t know.
Except, she’s not looking at me at all. She’s kneeling, head tilted toward the ground and eyes closed, an unnatural wind whipping her pure black hair tainted by white streaks. She’s more storm than human. More god than girl.
And for some reason, I know I have the right to touch. I kneel and grab her wrist. The second my skin makes contact, her eyes snap open.
I see…
I don’t know what I see.
I see hatred. I see fear. I see the endless black of the divine looking out at nothing.
Mare’s tiny body is so very fragile in my arms, but I hold on tighter to both of them. The princess tries to rip her arm away, but whatever strength she possessed earlier is gone. She’s fragile.
Then there’s Suyai.
Everything slows. Suyai is at the base of the stairs. The caved-in head of an undead bird is at her feet as she shields another child. Our eyes lock, and then she’s limping to us, her hand stretched forward. I want to reach for her, I’m desperate to, but both my hands are full.
Please, she mouths.
I see her jump in a last-minute effort to reach us, but I know she won’t, because I’ve traveled with Serpent mimics before. I know what it feels like when it’s too late to turn back.
I can’t fight the tightening in my chest.
We’re gone before I have to see Suyai collapse. As I travel through the Ukhu Pacha, I wonder if that’s a blessing or a curse.