Chapter 5 #2
another. And by the time they broke for the evening meal, Nina felt ragged with exhaustion. Her back ached and her feet throbbed,
and her head was pounding with each beat of her heart, whereas there was a quiet intensity, a surety, that held the other
girls’ heads high and their shoulders back. They confidently navigated the halls and their chores, and Nina couldn’t help
but wonder how much of it was the tea’s influence, and how much of it was a misguided sense of honor at being chosen.
Though Nina felt more of everything without the tea and was glad to be clear minded once again, she wished she couldn’t feel
the eerie silence so heavy on her shoulders. She wanted to stand, to shake the pressure away and run as far as possible, but
the mamakuna was at the head of the room, her sharp eyes aware of every charge under her care.
Nina ate her bowl of vegetable stew that was as bland as every other meal and kept her head down, determined to focus on taking
one bite after another and keeping her movements as steady and demure as Qori’s beside her.
But all Nina could think was I will die here. Sacha would have thrived under the calm routine and the careful dedication. She would have exceeded Mamakuna Dusi’s expectations.
The regret returned, churning Nina’s stomach and prodding her further toward a dangerous idea that had begun to form early
that morning.
Night had fallen, and the acllahuasi was dark and quiet as Nina and Qori made their way to the baths. Nina subtly kept track
of every step she took, every shadowed corner and gaping doorway. Especially the main door in the barren receiving room. The
two acllas from her first night stood within it, watching them as they passed. She kept her eyes down even when she heard
Qori greet them.
This time, Nina had the luxury of bathing herself. It was a quick and solemn affair, and possibly the only thing that reminded
her of home. It had always been a time of reflection, of deep cleansing. Not only physically, but mentally as well. For Nina,
it was that and more.
Beneath the water was the only time that she felt like she could breathe. It was the only pressure that didn’t feel like a
fist around her heart. The water cradled her and held her aloft. Her shoulders relaxed and her mind cleared, and she let herself
be.
The reprieve was short-lived. A hand wrapped around her elbow and pulled her up, and Qori eyed her inquisitively. Nina said
nothing as she finished washing and dried off. The acllas were gone, and only one torch lit the way back to their room.
The girls had the implicit trust of the mamakuna. For them, it was an honor to be there, to be chosen to serve. Nina could
only assume it was the most important thing in the world to them. But for her, it was a nightmare. One that filled her with
resentment.
Why did the emperor feel he had the right to come and disrupt their lives?
To demand their children and their crops?
Limac was a self-sufficient and thriving ayllu.
They had the gods’ favor; they didn’t need Emperor Yachua’s as well, and certainly not his son’s, who was barely older than Nina when he took his tayta’s place.
If Nina escaped and returned home, perhaps she could convince her people to withhold the chani. To refuse to hand over their
children. Perhaps everything could be different.
Sleep did not come easily for Nina. She agonized over what she wanted as opposed to the vow she had made to the kunay to keep
Sacha safe. But the further she was from it, the less important it felt, until hours had passed and she finally rolled out
of bed and slipped on her shoes.
The floor was cold even through her slippers, and the room was dark enough that she could just make out the shape of the door
through the shadows. One look at the small window high up told her that the moon was hiding. There would be none of its light
to guide her.
But Nina remembered the path to the front door of the acllahuasi, and her newfound clarity gave her courage.
Sneaking was a skill she had mastered after years of hiding from Sacha in the fields. She was adept, and desperate, and willing
as she slid through the door, nothing but a whisper of fabric against stone to give her away. She placed her fingers against
the wall to guide her, shut her eyes against the absolute dark, and then she was running.
A right, and then a left, and another right. She stopped for a moment to get her bearings and catch her breath, ears strained
to listen for any noise. But there was nothing. She took off again, this time a bit slower, until she felt the space open
and knew she was in the front room of the acllahuasi.
Slowly, she placed her back against the closest wall and quietly shuffled along it, her palms out beside her. Her heart ticked
in her ears, keeping pace with her erratic breaths. She tried to calm her breathing—in through her nose and out through her
mouth—but she was so close to the outside that she could almost taste the wet air, and it tasted like freedom.
Finally, the texture of the wall changed from rough stone to weathered wood.
She knew the door had no handle—she vaguely remembered being dragged through it when she arrived.
There had to be a way to open it. If not this door, then a door, or a window, or a hole in the wall. She’d claw her way out, if she had to.
As quietly as she could, she ran her hands over the wood and banged her fist along different spots, thinking that there might
be a false window or a crevice of some sort she could slip her fingers into. She remembered her brother, Samaq, had always
been tinkering with different materials, finding inventive ways to build a toy to entertain his sisters. He would have known
exactly how to open it.
Frustrated, Nina slumped into the door with a sigh of defeat.
A click echoed through her shoulder. She leaned away, and the wood shifted forward.
With a silent squeal of victory, Nina pried her fingers into the opening, breath held as she pulled it wide enough to slip
through. Humid air washed over her. Once out, she found a handle and carefully shut it behind her.
She had succeeded in escaping. It was almost more than she could believe. The wet air chilled her skin as she turned and surveyed
the ultimate obstacle between her and freedom.
A line of ominous trees stood in the near distance. Beyond them was a dark so complete that Nina couldn’t make out anything
more than vague shapes, but she could hear the sounds within them. Leaves rustling in a thick breeze. Owls calling to one
another. Insects murmuring a never-ending song that seemed to grow louder the longer she listened.
The forest was alive, and she was about to walk right into its maw.
Briefly, she recalled Qori’s warning about creatures in the dark, but this was her only chance at escape, and she would not squander it by standing still with fear of a threat meant to keep her in line. It was recklessness that put her there, and it was her recklessness that would carry her home.
With a deep breath, she took off in a silent run toward the tree line, in the opposite direction of the clear and obvious
road. Cold air pushed the fine hairs away from her face and burned the back of her throat. Winter was fast approaching.
More reason to leave instead of waiting for another opportunity that may never come. Her robe was thick enough to keep her
somewhat warm, but it attempted to trip her up, until she grabbed a handful into a fist and hoisted it above her ankles.
The trees towered over her as they came closer. What she had thought were shadows turned out to be brush so thick there was
hardly any space to walk through. If she gave herself the time, she could imagine the kinds of creatures that would be hiding
beneath it, lying in wait to latch on to her ankles and drag her down.
Nina wouldn’t allow it. She would do whatever was necessary to survive.
Just as she placed one foot over the tree line, a force knocked into her, stealing the breath from her lungs and slamming
her onto her back. Her head thundered with the impact. The stars in the sky swirled in her vision. Then a face appeared, one
with beady eyes and a bulbous nose and a lewd smile on his lips.
Nina tried to squirm away, but the man only pressed her farther into the earth, his legs wrapped around hers, her arms pinned
beneath his large hands.
Nina opened her mouth to scream, but a hand clamped down before any sound could escape.
Both her wrists were pressed together above her head as the man leaned into her face.
A lock of short, dark hair brushed her forehead, and she shivered.
The only men she knew with shorn hair had been disgraced and exiled from her ayllu.
“Shh, shh, now. We wouldn’t want to wake the forest creatures.
They love nothing more than a struggle.”
Nostrils flared, Nina sucked in several rapid breaths. She scanned the trees for an idea, an answer, some sort of help. She
let some of the tension out of her body, relieved when the pressure from the man’s hand lessened around her mouth and she
was able to gain just enough space to tilt her head and slip one of his fingers between her teeth. She bit down hard, a spurt
of warm liquid coating her tongue.
The man screamed and ripped his hand away from her face, and then his fist barreled into her jaw. Her head whipped to the
side. Black spots crowded her vision. Her body went limp.
“Ekko! Enough.”
The familiar voice came from a distance, the order curt and unsympathetic. The man slid off her body with nothing more than
a smirk. And then Mamakuna Dusi slid into view. The same position they had been in when they first met.
The matron of the acllas stood arrow straight, her hands folded together beneath the thick sleeves of her purple robe, and
peered at Nina as if she were nothing more than excrement she had stepped in.
“I was curious how long it would take you to try the door. Do you know why it is left unlocked?” Nina knew the mamakuna didn’t
expect an answer, and she was reassured when the woman spoke again without waiting. “Because my acllas understand their purpose.
They are the chosen ones. Gifts to those who are honored enough to receive them.”
A shoe dug into Nina’s side. “You are not particularly beautiful. You cannot sew. You cannot obey. What use are you to anyone?”
I can plant, Nina thought angrily. I can nurture. I can grow.
It was the women in her ayllu who gave life to their fields, and it was only their offerings that Pachamama accepted.
This made them worthy beyond measure, but the mamakuna’s words needled a deep, unspoken fear Nina had harbored for as long as she could remember.
What if she was too difficult to love? What if she wasn’t ever enough?
Mamakuna Dusi sighed. “You lasted longer than expected, but alas, not long enough.” She turned away from Nina. “Take her to
the keep. And you, go bandage your hand. You are embarrassing yourself.”
There was movement, the sound of crunching grass, and then Nina was being lifted. Someone threw her over their shoulder like
a sack of corn she would watch her tayta haul away. Waves of nausea crashed into her, and the burn of vomit filled her throat
before spewing out of her mouth. The man cursed but kept moving, down the slight hill, across the grass, and back through
the front door of the acllahuasi.
Back to her prison.
Nina’s head bobbed with each step, arms dangling uselessly. The taste of defeat was so much more potent after sipping freedom.
A trail of warmth cut across her forehead and into her hairline. Tears, she realized embarrassingly.
After some time, she heard the clank of metal and the grind of a door opening. Boots shuffled across the floor, and then she
was being shifted. Her back and head hit the floor again, and it was the last thing she felt before the dark swallowed what
little light there was.