Chapter 12
The sun rose and shone with all the breadth and width of a fire scorching the land, and the forest transformed from a nightmarish
landscape to a whimsical dream. Winged insects flew through shafts of sunlight in lazy circles. Small creatures jumped from
branch to branch, leaves and feathers falling and twirling softly to the ground.
A leaf fell into Nina’s hair, and she plucked it out while carefully climbing over the tangle of foliage covering the ground.
Kasik walked beside her, his breathing labored, face pale with pain. She peeked at the three large gashes in his tunic. Dried
blood covered most of the wound, but she could see bits of white fat and tendons underneath the red.
Nina swallowed her worry and followed Kasik closely. Even as near to death as he looked, he helped her climb over trees covered
in slippery moss, and his eyes never stopped roving over their surroundings. They were far from the road, and Capac was nowhere
to be seen.
“Are we lost?” Nina asked after a few hours had passed.
The muscles in Kasik’s jaw clenched. He refused to meet her eyes. “I’ve never been this deep into the Tuta Kulla. We just
have to find the road.”
It wasn’t straightforward, but it was answer enough, and it was the last they spoke for a long while. Sweat trickled down
Nina’s spine. The air was humid and heavy, as if she were buried beneath layers of cloth, and the heft of her robe clung to
her. How she longed to rip it off, to dive into the briny sea and cool her burning, blistered feet.
Still, they pushed on, Nina’s every step plagued with visions of that unnatural bird.
“That thing.” She braced herself against a tree and stepped over a large hole, refusing to consider what was living in it. “What was it?”
“It’s called an achiyanga, god bird. It’s said to have been a messenger for the gods, but when they were separated from the mortal realm, the birds went mad
and became vengeful. They hunt at night by capturing their prey in thrall and then devouring them piece by piece.”
Nina shivered at the memory of being under its control, a dreamlike blur until Kasik’s body had collided with hers. “There
are no stories of it in Limac.”
Their myths involved monsters that lived deep in the sea. Snakelike creatures that lured men to watery deaths. Demon-like
beings that stole crops and children. But as terrifying as the stories were, she had never seen them in real life, nor had
anyone she knew.
“They’re confined to the Tuta Kulla.” His hand cupped her elbow, and she noticed how cold it was. “People believe the emperor’s
road is blessed and therefore they are unable to go near it.”
“And what do you think?” she asked.
“I think we need to find the road before it gets dark,” he said, pausing to tilt his head to the sky, where the sun hung high
overhead. “And water.”
“And Capac?”
Kasik glanced behind them. Nina followed his gaze, wondering what he was thinking. “Capac will find us. He always knows the
way.”
But the line between his brows matched hers, and she couldn’t help but think he was just as worried as she was. He walked
an arm’s length in front of her, the muscles in his back bunching as he parted the giant leaves at head level. If he was in
pain, he didn’t show it.
His wound had stopped bleeding, but it was caked with dirt and debris around the edges, and she knew from life on a farm that
dirty wounds were the most dangerous.
They needed water, and the medicinal paste her mamay made.
The idea struck her like a fist. She was familiar with the shape of the leaves, and the smell of the plant, having traded for them many times in the market. And though it was always Sacha who helped their mamay make the paste, Nina had watched enough times to hopefully be able to recreate it.
The band around Kasik’s upper arm caught the light of the sun and shone right into her eye. She blinked and looked away, but
still it was there in her periphery. A small glint of gold that tickled her memory.
Nina stopped walking. Stopped breathing.
There, in the center of Kasik’s back, was a point of golden light, so faint it was almost invisible. If she looked away again,
it would disappear. She had to strain her senses to see, to feel it, a tiny piece of something at once familiar and foreign that whispered softly to her soul.
It was the same light that had danced in those boys’ chests back home. The same one she had been lured to like a moth to flame.
The memory became clearer then. How she had been at first confused, and then concerned, and then coerced to reach out a hand
and call the light toward her. How it had obeyed easily. How she had squeezed it in a fist and felt the breadth of their lives
leaking through her fingers.
Now it was there again, and it called to her all the same.
Attay, her heart whispered.
When she brushed her mind against it, Kasik came to an abrupt stop and turned sharply toward her. His umber eyes narrowed
as they took her in. “Are you all right?” he asked.
But Nina wasn’t paying attention to the way he slowly closed the space between them and then clasped her chin between his
fingers, his gaze inspecting her face. With a shaky hand, she reached for his light and firmly pressed her palm over the center
of his chest.
It jumped with a gasp. She wasn’t sure what it felt like to him, but to her, it felt like holding her hand over a fire. Like
burning potential and endless possibility.
The intensity terrified her. She shot her eyes to his, wondering if he felt anything at all, but he was watching her intently, gaze darting from her eyes to her mouth, the space between them narrowing with every inhale.
There was a war within Nina. Part of her hoped for him to come nearer, for his breath to mingle with hers, to feel his lips
and taste his mouth. The other part of her longed to grasp his light and twist, to watch with glee as he knelt at her feet
and obeyed her every command.
The urge was sudden and slippery. There one moment and gone the next, along with that golden thread.
All that was left behind was confusion and worry and exhaustion. “I’m just tired,” Nina said, her voice ragged as she forced
herself to take a step away.
Kasik nodded, and finally the weight of his gaze left her. “We’ll rest as soon as we find water.”
It was the truth. Nina was more tired than she could ever remember being, and not just physically, but mentally. Every shadow
in the forest was a creature waiting to feast on her bones. Every thought in her mind was an enemy trying to coax her. She
couldn’t trust her own desires that prodded her toward kissing the kamayuq who had taken her captive.
Or killing him, if she inspected that dark whisper in the far recesses of her mind that told her his death would solve all
her problems.
If Kasik was dead, she could go back home, the emperor none the wiser. She could convince her family that they could find
somewhere else to live, far from the reaches of duty and responsibility and fate.
But she was afraid the vow to the kunay would sit like an omen over her head. That he would never stop searching for her if
she disappeared, and what was she if not loyal to her own word?
The gods had heard her vow and they would favor her if she kept it. Nina forced herself to believe that as she blindly followed
Kasik through the forest and toward her future.
They heard the stream before they saw it, a gentle gurgle of water that sent Nina running through the dense trees.
Kasik called after her, but his voice was light, a soft warning that fell on deaf ears.
Her sole purpose was to sink her head beneath the surface and let it wash away the stink of the last several days.
When the stream came into view, it did not disappoint. It sparkled in the afternoon light, flowing gently in a direction she
couldn’t discern nor cared to consider. She didn’t stop running until her feet hit the water. It was icy cold, and it stole
her breath, and still she dove as far as she could.
Nina had never felt anything more exquisite. The small injuries covering her body went numb. She sank to the silty bottom
where she allowed the weight of the water to suffocate all her thoughts for just a few moments.
The air was warm when she popped up for a breath. Kasik sat on a large rock by the shore, his eyes pinned to her. She smiled
and threw a handful of water his way.
“Come in,” she called to him. The water had left her feeling invigorated, freer than she could ever remember feeling.
“In a moment” was all he said.
Nina shrugged and sank beneath the surface again, this time swimming along the floor to find the deepest part of the stream.
At home, her room was full of prizes she had plucked from the ocean floor while Sacha watched from shore. Shells in pinks
and oranges, flat and circular, large and small. She would place them in a bowl and weave the smallest and brightest into
her sisters’ hair. Lali always lost hers, but Sacha treasured them, carefully reattaching them if they came loose.
Nina was pulled into a memory of the last time they had swam together.
Mamay always told them to stay near the shore, but Nina was a strong swimmer. She would swim out farther and farther every time, just to see how far she could go. Nina wasn’t worried that Sacha would follow her. Her sister always stayed on
the shore with her feet firmly planted in the sand.
Except this time, she didn’t. Nina stared out at the horizon with a smile on her face.
How vast the world was. How exciting to consider what was on the other side.
When she turned to wave at Sacha, her sister was nowhere to be seen. A surge of water came and swallowed Nina. She ducked
underneath just as Tayta had taught her, and waited until the white foam passed to come up again. Her vision blurred as water dripped into her eyes. Perhaps that was
why she still couldn’t find Sacha on the shore. It was just as her mamay always said—Nina needed to pay better attention.
Someone called her name, but Nina ignored it and closed her eyes. Calmed her breathing. Let the water carry her weight.
There. Nina felt her sister like a tether to her heart. Felt the essence of her life, not strong and bright and on the shore where
Sacha always stayed, but flimsy and quiet and floating nearby.
Nina swam faster than she ever had, but it wasn’t fast enough.
Tayta reached Sacha first, scooping her up, then Nina, and raced to shore. Sacha’s body was still, her lips blue, her light dimmed
further to a barely there flicker. Tayta pushed on her chest and breathed into her mouth while Nina watched, and whispered, and tugged on that weak, gossamer light.
Sacha flared to life with a gasp.
Nina let out more air as she sat on the sandy floor and the memory washed over her. Her hair floated around her head like
a halo. Streams of sun penetrated deep enough to touch her hand, and she curled her fingers through them, considering the
threads of golden light that appeared at random and what they truly meant.
Suddenly, a hand wrapped around her arm and dragged her up. She broke the surface with a gasp. Kasik stood before her, his eyes wild as he held Nina’s upper arms in a bruising grip.
“What are you doing?” she sputtered. Hair clung to her face and neck. She used rough hands to shove it out of her eyes.
“You were down there for so long. I thought you were drowning.”
“It’s called swimming, Kasik. Haven’t you ever done it before?”
Kasik abruptly let go of her. He ran his hands through his hair and turned away. She caught sight of his back and swallowed
down a flood of guilt. He was in pain because he had saved her life, and it was clear his nerves were frayed. The least she
could do was reassure him that she was all right.
Hesitantly, she reached out and touched his shoulder. Kasik looked down at her hand, and then followed the path of her arm
to her shoulder, her neck, her jaw, her cheeks, and finally, her eyes. It was as if he was inspecting her to ensure that she
was whole and hale.
“I’m all right,” she said softly. His shoulders relaxed as he blew out a breath, the warmth of it skimming the top of her
hand and sending shivers up her arm. She yanked her hand away before he could see and pointed at his back. “We should clean
this properly.”
“It can wait,” Kasik said, heading back to shore. Without thinking, Nina grasped his wrist. His pulse beat hard against her
fingertips.
“I don’t think it should,” Nina said. “I’ve seen injuries less severe than yours get infected from much less.” When it looked
as if he might argue again, Nina gently pulled him closer. “Please,” she added. His eyes traveled to hers, and Nina saw in
them that she had won.
Kasik allowed himself to be guided. She gently turned him, his back facing her, and plucked the bottom of his tunic. “This
needs to come off.”
Kasik’s hands curled around the hem and tugged.
Nina slipped her hands underneath to protect his wound and tried not to focus on the way his muscles rippled with movement.
How the water sluiced over the ridges carved into his browned skin.
The urge to run her fingers over each scar was so strong that she curled her hands into fists by her side.
The tunic hit the water with a slap. Nina cleared her throat. “Kneel, please,” she asked, and Kasik obeyed easily.
It was different than she had imagined, him on his knees at her feet. Instead of feeling powerful, she felt pleased that he
trusted her enough to give her his back and determined to help as much as she could. Gently, she swiped the long, dark hair
from his shoulders. A thin, leather cord she hadn’t noticed before rested against his neck.
Then she lifted a sleeve-covered fist to the uppermost wound and carefully wiped away blood that had dried beneath the dirt.
Kasik didn’t so much as twitch as she worked. She went slowly, ensuring that there was nothing left to irritate once she could
place a poultice. As soon as she was done, she would search the surrounding forest for the right materials and she wouldn’t
stop until she found them.
It was a quick and thorough job, and she tried her best not to touch him more than absolutely necessary. Every time she placed
her fingers against his shoulder blades to steady herself, his skin would jump beneath her touch. Either he hated this, or
he was in more pain than she thought, but with each handful of water that ran down his back in rivers, Kasik’s shoulders lowered,
his head falling farther back, until he was relaxed and entirely at Nina’s mercy.
That thin, golden light appeared again, brighter and louder than before. Nina stumbled away and pressed her hands to her chest.
“All done,” she said, and winced at the pitch of her voice. She marched out of the water and into the brush to find the proper
plants for a poultice.
Any excuse to wipe the feel of him from her hands.