Chapter 7 #2
placed her hand in Kasik’s, surprised by the warmth and gentleness as he pulled her closer. She watched as he lifted their
joined hands to the achipuma’s nose.
She tried not to stare at the way the golden-brown skin of his arms shifted, the muscles underneath rippling with movement.
“See? Harmless.”
The achipuma’s wet nose nudged her fingers, his whiskers tickling her palm. Harmless wasn’t the word she would use, but she could admit that the beast seemed friendly enough.
Nina turned her eyes back to Kasik. The golden disk lying over his chest caught her eye. The sun god’s symbol. The emperor’s symbol.
“What did you mean when you said ‘the emperor’s property’?”
The kamayuq sighed and lifted his head, his gaze peering over her and into the tree line surrounding them. “We’ve got a long
journey ahead of us and plenty of time to explain as we move.”
“Am I expected to follow you, a stranger, into these strange woods to an unknown location for an undisclosed reason?”
The kamayuq shouldered past her. “Yes” was all said as he walked by. His achipuma followed without so much as a huff. Nina
had to step aside or risk being knocked over.
She watched as they walked away. All the way past the acllahuasi, through the yard and to the base of the small hill. Surely,
they would stop there and notice her absence. But when they didn’t, Nina took off in a run to catch up, cursing the thin shoes
barely covering her feet, the thick robes that threatened her every step, and the throb in her jaw that only reminded her
of what had happened the last time she crested that hill.
She reached the tree line without incident, apprehension pounding in her chest. The road was empty save for the walla and
his beast. They had finally stopped, and he gave her a passing glance before adjusting the seat on the achipuma’s back. “We
should get as far as we can before the rain comes.”
Nina looked up. The clouds were darker than before, and closer. She smelled the tang of stale water on the breeze. She missed
her home and the salty air. The sound of the wind through the stalks in the fields. The call of the coastal birds as they
spoke to one another.
In the morning, she would put together a plan.
For now, she would ignore the questions she was tempted to ask and enjoy the fresh air on her face after weeks entombed in stone.
“I need you to get on.”
Nina dropped her face from the sky and back to the kamayuq. He was standing an arm’s length from the beast, watching her.
Waiting. She glanced behind him to the road, clearly marked and bordered by countless mossy trees for as far as she could
see. She didn’t want to admit that the first time she’d ridden an animal of any kind was when they had taken her from her
home, and that the experience had left her with a bad taste in her mouth, lest he think her uncultured and easy to scare.
Even if it was the truth. “I think I’d rather walk.”
“It’ll be easier if you ride.”
“Easier for who?”
“For both of us.” The kamayuq sighed heavily. “Please?”
The word threw her into a memory of her sister’s hands on her shoulders, the word please like a prayer from her lips. Nina had rounded the corner to see two boys towering over Sacha, one of them with his hand in
her hair, pulling back so that she was forced to look into his eyes.
Let go of her, Nina had demanded.
But the boy only laughed, and his friend, taller and older, leered at Nina. This is none of your business, girl, he’d told her.
It made Nina angry. So much so that she had begun to see a light and thought she was losing her mind. But the light was like
a thread, a guide, that led straight to the boy whose hand was on her sister.
She blinked and that thin, golden thread was in her hand. She blinked again, and both boys were on their knees, and Sacha
was in front of her, pleading.
I’m okay, Nina. They didn’t hurt me.
Nina had known that they would have. That they might hurt another if she let them go. But her sister was begging, and Nina’s rage was cooling, and those threads were slipping from her fingers.
Let them go, Sister. This is not who you are. Please.
Nina believed her. Sacha had always known her better than she knew herself. The boy and his friend had gone free, and Nina
and Sacha went back home. They hadn’t told their mamay. In fact, they had acted as if nothing had happened.
Nina had pushed it from her mind, desperate to cling to the life she knew, and thought nothing more of it until the kunay
appeared.
It was you I felt.
She couldn’t piece it together, but Nina somehow knew that all this had started with that one, fateful day. That her recklessness
and stubbornness had doomed her, and that, if she wasn’t careful, she might never see Sacha or her family again.
If what her mamay said was true, and Nina was miserable until Sacha came along, it meant that her sister was the best part
of her. Without Sacha, Nina felt heavy, like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, and she was so, so tired.
The path that lay ahead was long and uncertain. She could continue to fight it, or she could give in and ride the beast. Perhaps
this one thing could be easy.
“Okay,” Nina finally agreed. The surprise on the kamayuq’s face almost made her laugh, but then she remembered that the kunay’s
men had dragged her onto their beasts, and this time, she’d have to mount on her own, and any relief left her with a grimace.
“It’s not as difficult as it looks,” he told her, confusing her expression with fear.
“I’m sure it’s not,” she said defensively.
Nina marched to the beast’s side, determined to look as though she knew what she was doing.
The kamayuq only watched as he held on to the achipuma’s seat.
She lifted a foot to place into the loop dangling from the side and missed.
She would have face-planted if her hands weren’t bracing her but was mercifully saved the embarrassment.
The next time she tried, she missed again, and this time the achipuma let out a huff and stamped a foot, as if impatient with
her pathetic attempts.
A swell of frustration forced Nina to take a deep breath. She stepped back to reassess the situation, wondering whether there
was a better way to do it. She was going to get on that beast, without anyone’s help, if it was the last thing she did.
“Can I—” Kasik started.
“No, you cannot!” Nina yelled, interrupting the kamayuq, who promptly shut his mouth and stepped farther away. Nina almost
felt guilty, but she wanted to figure this out herself. She wanted to be in control of at least this.
She reached down and grabbed the hem of her robe. The seam was easy to find; she had sewn similar seams many times before,
but these stitches had been executed much better than hers. She fisted the robe between two hands, one on either side, and
pulled.
The fabric tore, and the sound echoed through the trees, sending bright blue-and-green birds fluttering into the sky. Even
the achipuma snickered softly, but the sound had quelled something in Nina. It gave her the space to breathe deeply and move
more freely.
This time, she got a foot into the loop without any trouble and then pulled herself up just as easily.
“There,” she said, confidence restored.
And as if the achipuma couldn’t stand that outcome and was determined to put her in her place, he opened his mouth wide and
stretched forward as far as he could. Nina screamed and grabbed his fur, convinced that this would be the way she died.
Of all the things she had faced thus far, it seemed the least terrible.
She wasn’t imprisoned in a lightless room or doused with infected Mamacoca that stole her mind and made it unfamiliar.
Perhaps she would hit her head on a rock and simply slip into death.
In any case, there was nothing she could do but brace herself. Except, death never came. Instead, a warm hand pressed against
her thigh, firmly holding her body in place as the achipuma settled back into a standing position.
Heart racing, Nina watched as the kamayuq whispered into the achipuma’s ear and ran his right hand along the beast’s neck.
His left hand remained wrapped around her thigh, his long fingers digging into her flesh.
Nina stared at the hand until it was snatched away. When she looked up, the kamayuq had squeezed it into a fist by his side
and met her eyes.
“Is he trying to kill me?” she asked breathlessly. Because of the near-death experience, of course. Certainly not because
of the way the warmth of the kamayuq’s hand lingered, a reminder that she had gone a long time without an affectionate touch.
If she was willing to be honest with herself, she might concede that she had never felt anything as warm in her entire life.
Kasik huffed a laugh and swept away the loose hairs around his face. “He would never. He’s just bored.”
“Well, he is not nice,” she muttered at the beast, who she could have sworn gave her a look from the side of his eye.
The kamayuq took a step closer but kept his hands to himself. “I’m going to get on behind you,” he said, and she thought of
the heat of his hand spreading to encompass her back, how good it would feel, and opened her mouth to argue against it. “It’ll
be faster for both of us to ride,” he continued before she could say a word. “And this way we can ensure Capac doesn’t kill
you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you said he would never.”
“I might have misspoken. Who knows what these beasts are capable of.”
It was difficult to tell if the kamayuq was being earnest, but she knew he spoke the truth. The faster they could ride, the
sooner they could be rid of this place once and for all.
“All right,” Nina said with a sigh, slipping as far forward in the seat as she dared. Of course, Capac held perfectly still
as the kamayuq slid on behind her. The whole ordeal was over in several heartbeats, and Nina was aware of each and every one
of them. She kept her body stiff and leaned away, afraid that he’d feel them through her back.
A cold drop of rain landed on the middle of her forehead.
Nina tilted her head to the sky and closed her eyes as one drop after another fell. She missed the rain. She missed the sea
and Sacha’s hand in hers as they ran through puddles, splashing mud over the hems of their tunics that their mamay would surely
berate them for later, but with a smile on her face and joy in her eyes. She missed the comfort of her home, and the warmth
of their fire. Feeling safe and happy.
It hadn’t occurred to her until that moment just how cold she had been all this time, and she resented the kamayuq’s touch
for bringing it to her attention.
“I need you to lean back.” His voice broke through her thoughts. “We’re going to ride as far as we can as quickly as possible.”
It sounded like a good plan to her. She never wanted to see Mamakuna Dusi or the acllahuasi ever again. Putting her obstinance
aside, Nina relaxed into his arms, all at once aware of the strength in his legs and arms that could easily kill her or keep
her safe.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his breath tickling the top of her head. Left no other choice, Nina nodded.
The kamayuq’s arms slid around her and he grabbed on to a leather strap resting on the achipuma’s neck. He fisted the slack in one hand and the other he rested on Nina’s thigh. She stiffened beneath his touch. “I’ll keep my hand here as a precaution. Is that all right?”
Nina squeezed the lip of the leather seat beneath her, all while trying and failing to convince herself of her discomfort,
that she preferred to be walking, that she would rather be left behind to soak in the rain, that she was not all right.
But the truth was, within his arms and against the solid pillar of him, she felt safer than she had since leaving home.
With a click of the kamayuq’s tongue, the achipuma took off down the road, all her misgivings left behind.