Chapter 5
Ten days had passed since Nina arrived at the acllahuasi, and each morning, she woke with only hazy memories of the day before
that sifted through her fingers like sand with each step she took toward the prayer room. And when she drank her tea, she
forgot that she couldn’t remember anything at all.
But that morning was different. Qori was nowhere to be found when Nina woke, and the streaks of morning light from the tiny
window by the ceiling were not in their usual spots on the floor. Her mind worked through what it meant, and then it meandered
toward thoughts of home.
Tiny particles floated in the air, bringing forth a memory of Sacha lying in the bed they shared, her thin fingers swirling
through the streaks of light and parting the dust while she hummed a soft song.
How she missed her sisters and her home. Her mamay and tayta. How had she, for even one moment, allowed herself to forget
them?
A closing door echoed down the long hall. Nina listened for other sounds, but the acllahuasi was deadly quiet, which likely
meant everyone was at morning prayers and she was missing them. Why hadn’t Qori woken her, and why couldn’t she remember if
she had told Nina of her plans not to?
She jumped out of bed and dressed, quickly throwing her thick hair into two tidy braids. The hall was empty as she jogged
in slippered feet to the prayer room, which she found empty as well. On the small table by the door was a single mug of cooled
tea. Nina found herself reaching for it, for the energy and bliss it provided. She snatched her hand back and swallowed down
the burn of anticipation.
When she finally made her way to the dining quarters, she took a moment outside the door to calm herself and prepare an excuse.
But nobody looked her way as she opened the door and quickly entered the room, much less asked a question.
The only sounds were the soft scuff of clay on wood.
The click of metal against clay. The whisper of shifting fabric.
Nina sat down at the closest table, a strange feeling beating against her chest.
“You sit over there,” a girl said to her, pointing with her spoon at a table across from theirs.
Nina glanced nervously between the table and the girl and nodded. “Of course,” she said, because it was only after the girl
pointed it out that Nina remembered that she did sit at that table every morning with Qori. There was already a bowl of corn porridge waiting for her, but no Qori.
After switching tables, Nina thought she would feel less out of place. Less strange, but the eeriness only grew with the silence
in the room.
It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the quiet. Back home, there were times when she would escape the company of her sisters and
the never-ending chores to venture to the middle of the fields and stretch out on the ground, eyes closed and arms spread
wide, and simply listen. To the birds singing in the distance, to the corn stalks caressing each other, to the rustle of insect
wings.
But this quiet was unnatural. The girls didn’t speak to her, but they also didn’t speak to each other. They didn’t laugh or
hum or move too quickly and spill their food. They didn’t apologize when they bumped into each other, or bribe each other
to switch chores, or complain about their itchy robes.
Had it always been like this, so quiet and strange? Would anyone even notice if she simply got up and left the room?
Or the acllahuasi?
The thought came unbidden. Nina paused with a bite of congealing porridge halfway to her mouth. Could she leave? She had offered herself to the kunay in exchange for her sister, but the kunay wasn’t there, and the arrangement
hadn’t been made known to the mamakuna, as far as she knew.
It didn’t seem like they would notice her absence, or come after her if they did, and why would they? She was a nobody from
Limac, a small farming ayllu on the outskirts of a bustling and newly formed empire. The only time her people had anything
to do with the emperor or his men was during the Harvest, and Nina and her sisters were well-versed in hiding from them.
They had caught her off guard this time, but they wouldn’t again.
Nina could go home. She could see her mamay and tayta. Hug her sisters. Swim in the sea. Be free. Nobody would have to know.
The plan grew in her mind as she finished her morning meal and made her way with the other girls to the sewing room. It was
only when she was halfway there that she remembered she hadn’t drunk the morning tea that filled them with faith and brought
them closer to the gods.
Perhaps Nina was faithless, but she was filled with clarity unlike anything before.
The sewing room was like the other rooms in the acllahuasi: colorless and cold. The smallest amount of light filtered in from
a thin slit of a window near the ceilings. Too high to climb out of, Nina thought fleetingly. The rest of the light came from torches in the corners. Cushioned benches lined the walls, and
in the middle was a large table piled with baskets of sewing equipment.
Qori sat on one of those benches, dark head bowed over a deep red fabric bunched in her lap.
Nina breathed a sigh of relief and joined her only friend, expecting to field questions from her, at least. But Qori hardly glanced up.
Her fingers didn’t stop moving as she pushed the needle through the fabric, in and out and over.
“Where were you this morning?” Nina whispered, glancing at the three girls sitting across the room from them. They kept their
heads bowed and didn’t appear to be listening, but Nina scooted closer to Qori all the same.
“I’ve been here.” Qori nodded at her lap. “It’s for Empress Chaska. Mamakuna has entrusted it to me.”
The needle and thread shimmered in the dim light as Qori stitched another tiny sun onto the hem of what Nina now knew was
a dress.
“Can you imagine being married to the emperor?” Qori asked. “A descendant of a god. The sun god, no less. What a gift it must be.”
“It sounds like a burden,” Nina mumbled.
Qori’s fingers paused their stitching, and her eyes shot to Nina’s.
“Being married, I mean,” Nina carefully added. “Imagine how much is expected of her.”
“Empress Chaska was once an aclla, and it was her tayta who orchestrated the union to Emperor Maicu.” Qori began stitching
again as she continued to speak. “I’m sure she was more than prepared for such a role. And look what has come from it! Tullumay
is now a part of Tawantinsuyu. The empire strengthens every day.”
The union of Emperor Maicu and Empress Chaska was a celebration that reached even the far shores of Limac. Nina recalled how
Inti Raymi had been especially festive that year, with every household receiving a bounty of meat courtesy of the emperor’s
household. They had feasted for weeks, and then life had gone back to normal.
She had wondered how much had changed for Empress Chaska’s ayllu after joining Tawantinsuyu.
Nina could not remember Limac before it had been absorbed, only that after, much had changed.
An agreement had been struck, and the emperor implemented the chani, the price paid for belonging to his empire.
It hardly mattered that most of their people didn’t want to belong.
The emperor’s banner, a golden sun set against a red sky, was raised over their altar all the same, and the next year, Samaq was taken.
In return, they had gained access to the emperor’s road and trade with other ayllus. Protection, should they ever need it.
After all, her people were not warriors. They had no nobles to establish dominance. No designs on conquering and ruling. They
lived simple lives. Peaceful lives.
Boring lives, if Nina was being honest. The morning the kunay had come for her, she had been wishing for adventure. Now here she
was, thick in the middle of one and wishing for nothing more than to return home.
Nina picked up the sewing project she had begun the day before and considered Qori’s words as she tried and failed to complete
a simple stitch. The needle slipped and pricked her finger, not for the first time. She licked the blood away and began again.
“The empire strengthens, but at what cost? And for what reason? What comes next?”
They were questions she hadn’t been able to put into words before then. Thoughts that had stayed buried beneath her desire
to please her mamay and tayta. To be compliant and helpful.
The way Qori was looking at her now made her think she should have stayed that way. “There is no need to justify a union.
We are stronger together, Nina. That is the only reason we need.”
“It’s just that it seems that Emperor Maicu might be benefitting from this union more than we are, and—”
“That is enough, Nina. I understand you are unfamiliar with the customs and expectations of us as acllas since you are very
new, and very late, but we are here to serve the empire and the gods. This is how we contribute and earn favor.” Qori gestured
to the fabric in Nina’s lap, and to the walls around them. “There is nothing else we need to concern ourselves with.”
Nina stared at Qori as she continued to work, her fingers confident and her features free of worry.
It must have been such a relief to know one’s place in the world and accept it so fully.
Sacha was much like that. Always content to do as she was told, to help in any way she could, while Nina constantly sought to understand.
To know. Others thought her obstinate, but it was simple curiosity.
Over time, she had learned to dampen it, but it was that same curiosity that had Nina watching the other girls throughout
the rest of the day. They were disinterested, flitting from one task to the next without question or complaint, but when Nina’s
finger stung from too many pricks, she threw the needle to the floor and watched it roll away. Qori had simply handed her