Chapter 27
Ihave long forgotten what is on our llikllas when we emerge at a busy dock in Puno.
We managed to take rural back roads all the way to the lake, but there is no avoiding the town when we need to get on a boat.
We did our best to clean up, and that included putting on our llikllas to cover the matching blood stains the princess and I sported.
The llikllas that announce our upcoming engagement.
“You'd better keep a close eye on your girl there, miss. Pretty things like her go for a good price here,” an old man tells me in the lake town. It’s a disgusting statement, but he says it with such sincerity that I can’t find it in me to get angry.
Not at him. He doesn’t leer at us or give any sense of coveting Yanami himself.
He sounds tired instead. Disappointed. Like he wishes he didn’t have to say what he did.
The princess must have read him the same way because she stops and goes to talk to him.
We established on our walk here that the princess was free to talk, though she still needed to cover her hair. There’s no way the Aya Runa’s projections made it out of Inkan territory, so her face won’t be recognized. Only the rumors floating in with the refugees would have made it this far.
“Is there a lot of crime here, sir?” she asks, and the old man sighs as if carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Didn’t use to be, no, but with refugees like you flooding in, people are taking advantage. A lot of folks here still harbor anger at your last Inka. They won’t be as friendly as I am to you lot.”
It’s a shock to hear the False King referred to as our last Inka. News of the assassination must not have reached this far yet. I look at the princess to see if she’s as shaken as I am, but her face doesn’t give away a hint of emotion.
“We appreciate your help, sir. You’ve been kinder than you ought to be with our history,” the princess says.
“I’m too old now to be bogged down by history. I’ve lived through too much of it,” he says.
The princess chuckles, and I feel the heat of jealousy surge inside of me.
“We’ll make sure to stay close together. We just have to make it to my family in Isla Amantani, and we’ll be okay,” the princess says.
“Isla Amantani? You’ve got a long way to go.
But I wouldn’t worry too much. As long as you have some of that Inkan gold on you, then it will be easy for you to get on a boat there.
They’re shuttling refugees all over the lake right now.
A lot of people returning to their family homes just like you. ”
A wave of anticipation flows through me. This is our last obstacle. We used our last bit of gold on the road for rations, but I’m not worried. We have a kid with us, and I can play desperate easily when I feel it at my core.
We say our goodbyes to the man. I’m holding Mare’s hand even harder now.
I risk another look at the princess. She’s back to her indifference, though her lack of expression can’t hide the story that her clothes tell.
We’re refugees. That much is obvious by our tattered clothes and wounds. We’re also due to get married.
“Can I hold your hand?” I ask. The princess doesn’t even break stride.
She nods yes but keeps her hand at her side.
I sigh. This is for both our benefit, yet she’s making it seem like it’s my own want.
And so what if it is? What if I have missed the warmth and softness of her skin?
Touching her is both an exploration and a homecoming.
Once my hand finds hers, I link our fingers together.
We walk like that, hand in hand, through the docks.
We dodge dock workers with sacks of fish and potatoes.
We keep our heads down, Mare huddled in front of us so we make a tight unit, my other hand holding the back of his poncho.
The dock is a flurry of activity, yet it still feels weighed down by the emotions of everyone walking by. Us included.
I can’t think about the emotions swirling inside of me, not now.
There’s no space for explosions or screaming matches here, even less for it inside my brain.
I can barely let myself think three steps ahead.
Get on a boat. Arrive at Amantani. A miracle, and then the Sun Staff is in my hands.
A miracle, and I’m back to Lima, back to Suyai. A miracle, and Yanami leaves.
I shake my head. That’s why I can’t think. That’s why I need to stay angry. I crush Yanami’s hand in mine so hard her bones dig into my palm. There I go again, trying to hurt others and hurting myself too.
It’s strange to hear Aymara spoken around us rather than Quechua. I know enough to get by, though I won’t need to use my knowledge. By the looks of it, most dock workers know Quechua as well. There’s bartering going on in both languages.
I’m ready to take the lead when we reach a boat without a line in front of it.
“Excuse me,” the princess speaks before I can, Aymara words flowing without the slightest accent.
Mare gasps in delight at the surprise, while I feel myself heat up.
The princess is known for being well educated, but Aymara isn’t as respected as it should be in the empire.
Her knowledge only makes sense because of her mother’s secret heritage.
And now my mother’s dead.
Whatever wonder I felt at the words dies.
“Can you take us to Amantani?” the princess says, more or less. I catch more of the words than not, but I’m still guessing at the overall meaning.
The man shrugs and gestures to the rest of the dock and then his boat.
He says something along the lines of waiting for people, presumably to make the trip worth it, rather than taking just us.
I look at his boat. It’s small. It’ll maybe handle two more people along with us, but I know in this situation, he probably wants to fit more regardless of safety or comfort.
The boat’s wooden seats are sagging from rot.
One of the benches is broken at the end, causing splinters of wood to stick out.
The color of the hull is the distinct shade of greenish brown that proves it hasn’t been washed in a while.
The single motor has a handle sticking out of it for navigation, since the boat itself has no captain’s wheel.
Without anything to trade, this is probably the best quality we’ll get.
It also means waiting for other people to take the risk of going on this death trap.
No wonder there is no line to take a trip with this man.
He grumbles something at the princess, and I can’t make out a single word with his low voice. The rough mustache he has muffles his words further.
“It’s… your time… gold,” the princess says something along those lines.
She tries to let go of my hand, but I instinctively hold on harder. She pulls with more force this time, and I get myself together and let go, as unwilling as I am. I don’t know what she’s doing, but I’m in no position to stop her.
The princess uses both hands to grab at something at the back of her neck, and I see the flash of gold before I realize what it is. She’s taking off her last ceremonial necklace.
“No,” I say and grab her by the forearm. It’s too late. The man caught a glimpse of the shining metal too, and he’s saying something in rapid-fire Aymara. The princess lets go of the necklace, still clasped securely, and responds to him before turning around to look at me with fire in her eyes.
“This is the only boat we can afford to take privately,” she says.
“You don’t have to do this. It’s the last proof of ancestry you have left,” I say, but we both know that’s meaningless. No one would be able to deny she’s Inka Yanaru’s daughter.
But it is the last connection she has to her mother right now.
She hasn’t taken off that necklace the entire time we traveled, no matter how heavy and cumbersome it became.
I saw the rubbed-red skin under it the night we spent together.
It left marks indented on her neck when it was pushed aside.
I noticed the lengths she went to hide it from sight when we entered tambos.
She’s holding onto it now with one closed fist atop her clothes.
“It’s the last shackle, you mean,” she says with no room left for argument. My mouth falls open. She uses my momentary lapse to rip her arm out of my hold and go back to unclasping the necklace.
The man’s eyes are wide as she shows it to him, letting it shine in the sunlight for dramatic effect. I turn my head. I can’t look at it now, since the last time I saw it was on her golden skin, lit up by the water reflecting from the lakes.
Not when the time before that was when I was close enough to kiss the welts it left on her skin.
I focus on Mare instead. His eyes are just as wide as the man’s were, but there’s no greed in his. There’s only wonder and curiosity. Of course, he has only ever seen it at the lakes, and that day we both had a different image burned into our eyes.
I expect to see a childish smile on his face, but his wide eyes start to squint and his mouth downturns.
“Will that be enough to get us there, Rei?” he asks me, and I’m too shocked to answer. He stopped looking at the necklace as beautiful and started to see it as a tool.
He’s not wrong, but it stabs at something in my heart.
“Yes,” the princess answers for me.
Just like that, we’re getting into the boat and pulling out of the dock.
The part of Lake Titicaca that’s closest to the empire doesn’t open up to the large expanse of the lake.
As soon as we’re on the water, we’re flanked on both sides by land.
It takes us half an hour to break free from the small enclave and get out into open water.
I don’t know if it’s the sudden lack of land around us or the sun moving across the sky, but the temperature drops violently.
Wind lifts the cold from the water and turns the air to ice.
Not even the sun shining directly on me wills away the goosebumps all over my skin.