Chapter 20
Kasik stalked through the encampment, surprised that nobody stopped him. In fact, they seemed to keep far away from him, casting
questioning glances his way while he did the same to them.
They should have blindfolded him. They should have kept him restrained in the tent.
Every sight he took in was damning evidence of a community shirking the payment for the emperor’s protection. They were an
ayllu without recognition. A people without law.
Even if it seemed like the opposite. There were children running by with little care to look where they were going. Adolescents
carried baskets full of food and clothing. A boy walked by with an achipuma, and Kasik, struck with determination, turned
sharply to follow.
They passed by several tents, some with their entrances pinned open and flowers planted around the perimeter, before turning
onto a wide path that led closer to the tree line. A fenced pasture came into view. In one corner was a wooden lean-to on
a small plot of grass, and lounging in the shade underneath the lean-to was a familiar beast.
Two, actually.
Capac and Illari looked as though they hadn’t a single care in the world. Kasik looked around, wondering if the bandits who
stole Illari were nearby. He was itching for a fight, but there was only the boy with a bucket of food in his arms and the
curious glances he sent Kasik’s way.
With a sigh, Kasik turned back to the enclosure and whistled low.
Capac’s ears twitched. Illari lifted her head.
They both stared at him, unbothered and uninterested, before Illari slowly got to her feet and left Capac behind to greet him.
He could hear her purr even from where he stood as she lowered her head to be scratched between the ears.
He imagined it had been this easy for the bandits to gain her trust.
It was said that, long ago, achipumas were companions and protectors of the gods, ferocious and fierce hunters that tore apart
any being that presented the smallest threat to their master. Kasik watched Illari roll onto her back and present her belly,
and he shook his head. They served their purpose, but whatever ferociousness they possessed before was long gone after hundreds
of years of pampering.
A moment later, Kasik’s hand was pushed aside and Illari’s belly was replaced with Capac’s head. Kasik smiled. His feline
friend had always been jealous.
“Hey, boy,” Kasik cooed. Capac shoved his head underneath Kasik’s arm and demanded to be scratched. “I missed you, too.”
It wasn’t that he had doubted whether the achipuma was alive—he had no doubt that Capac could adapt and survive in the Tuta
Kulla—but they had never been separated for so long since Kasik was a small child, and Capac even smaller.
Master Wara had taught him that achipumas did not bond with their humans, that they belonged to the gods and the emperor alone.
But Kasik didn’t believe it. Not when Capac was in his face, his pitch-black eyes boring into Kasik as if to say, Where have you been? and all the outrage and turmoil that swirled in Kasik’s chest was soothed with the gentle rumble of Capac’s purr.
The happiness of the reunion was short-lived, though, when Kasik felt a presence at his side.
“He hasn’t let anyone get near him.”
Hatun held out a hand, and Capac bared his wickedly sharp teeth at it. Kasik couldn’t help but laugh.
“He’s incredibly loyal,” Kasik said proudly. “Unlike that one.” He nodded toward Illari, who had moved on to the boy and was being hand-fed a piece of raw meat.
“With time and reason, loyalties can change,” Hatun said pointedly.
Kasik stiffened. Capac nudged his hand to encourage him to keep scratching. “Loyalties only change for those with traitorous
hearts. Capac has been with me since we were both very young. He knows my heart as I know his.”
Hatun hummed. “But a man’s heart is fickle. They make promises they cannot keep and want things they cannot have.”
Kasik turned to challenge Hatun, but the man was paying him no mind, his eyes pinned to a point behind him and toward camp.
Out of curiosity, Kasik followed his gaze and found Shayim and Nina walking down the center of two rows of brown and green
tents, every so often stopping to talk to a child running by or a woman with a basket full of fruit.
Nina stood apart from Shayim, and Kasik could see, even from a distance, that there was a small smile on her face. That her
body leaned forward while also trying to give them space. She watched the faces of those who spoke, and she waved at a small
child who glanced her way and then ran away giggling.
Behind that tenacious and hardened exterior, he saw someone who wanted to belong. Someone whose convictions were at odds with
the expectations placed on her shoulders.
Someone like him.
“I keep my promises,” Kasik said. He turned back to Hatun again, certainty heavy on his tongue. “They are all I am.”
“Yes, but it’s not about the promises we make,” he said. “It’s about who we make them to.”
Hatun clapped him on the shoulder as he passed by.
Kasik stayed rooted in place, jaw tense, his mind racing with Hatun’s words.
Capac had given up on him and joined Illari where she lay licking her paws.
The sky was clear and the air was crisp with the scent of winter.
He hoped the calm weather would last until they made it back to Vira.
If we make it back to Vira, he thought, and he wasn’t sure why. There was no other choice—not for him or for Nina. He wasn’t lying when he told her
that Emperor Maicu would find them. The man was singularly focused on whatever fleeting fancy caught his attention.
It seemed that, this time, it was a new wife, and whatever his reasons, Kasik knew he was willing to do anything to see it
come to fruition. And if he found an ayllu hidden deep in the Tuta Kulla, in an area that he thought conquered and claimed,
thriving without the promise of his protection? That had slipped under his watchful eye? Kasik shuddered to think of the repercussions.
Again, he wished they had kept him tied up in that tent, blind to all this. Their freedom was a threat, but more than that, it was a lie. Just as Shayim’s words.
The Ikara were violent and monstrous, and Seers were a twisted myth born from generations of rumors and desperate wishes.
Her claim to possessing such a vast power undermined every word she said.
If she truly had served Emperor Yachua, why wasn’t she at Emperor Maicu’s side? And if she was his mamay’s sister, why had
she abandoned Kasik to his tayta? Why stay hidden with these people? Unless she had done something unforgivable, something
so atrocious that she had been forced away.
And he had left Nina with her.
Kasik pushed off the enclosure and frantically searched for her face among strangers.
The wholesome community from before had morphed into a trap.
Every tent was a possible prison. Every tool a weapon.
His hand automatically went to the tumi at his hip to find it gone.
How stupid he had been to let them disarm him so easily.
With or without a weapon, he would find Nina and he would tear down anyone who got in his way.
There was no other choice. He had given too much of himself to fail Emperor Maicu now.
“Kasik?” He knew it was her before he whirled around. He would recognize her voice anywhere, had heard it even in his dreams.
Kasik feared he would never get used to his name in her mouth, the way its hard edges softened, the way it made him want to
drop to his knees and beg her to say it again. “Is everything all right?” she asked.
Nina seemed perfectly fine, besides the furrow in her brow as her eyes touched every part of him. She had one hand extended toward him and the other wrapped in her tunic. There were no shadows over her face and her eyes
practically glowed with happiness. She was perfectly unharmed. The only danger there was him.
Kasik swallowed and stepped closer. “Can we speak privately?” he asked, glancing at Shayim, who stood a few paces away, watching
them with those strange, shrewd eyes.
“Of course,” Nina replied, but her words were hesitant, and she nodded imperceptibly toward Shayim. It was strange how much
that small gesture reminded him so much of Samaq. How he knew exactly what Nina was telling Shayim without words. He wondered
if she trusted everyone she met so easily, and it was only him she saved her disdain for.
Instead of being worried, he was only annoyed. Jealous. Kasik wanted Nina’s implicit trust. He wanted that wordless language. What a fool he was.
Nina followed him between two tents, past the edge of the clearing and into the line of trees that soared above and blocked the sun.
The brush wasn’t as thick in this part of the forest, and there were bright orange-and-pink flowers shooting up from the ground in random clumps that spread farther than he could see.
Emperor Maicu had the same flowers in his garden at Amaru Kancha, except they were smaller and shorter and more . . . contained.
These flowers were unrestrained, and they grew stronger for it. It made him wonder what would happen to Nina if she stayed
in a place like this.
Hands on his hips, Kasik turned to face Nina. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she leaned heavily on her right leg.
Her hair was in two braids, one over each shoulder, the ends tied with a thin piece of twine. In her dark eyes, he saw himself
reflected.
“I think it’s best if we leave sooner than we planned,” Kasik said quickly. “Tonight, if possible.”
“What? Why?” Nina’s eyes narrowed. “We agreed to wait,” she said. “You needed to gain back your strength, and I told Shayim
I would listen to what she had to say.”
“I think you’ve heard plenty.” Kasik gestured over her head, back toward camp and the chatter and bustle of people and life.
“And what she has to say matters very little to our plans.”
“Why are you being like this?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, they took us against our will, beat me, threatened you, and are keeping us captive. I’m not being
anything other than reasonable.”
He saw the way Nina pulled away from him, and he prepared himself for what she was going to say. This was the look exchanged
between her and Shayim. This was the thing he did not know and would not like. “I want to stay,” Nina said in a rush.
“Stay?” Kasik repeated like the fool he was.
“I know we agreed to leave but I need to—”
“What you need to do is listen. You cannot stay.” Nina opened her mouth to argue, but Kasik stepped closer and bent so that they were at eye level. “Do you think the emperor will not find this place when he comes looking for you?”
“That’s the thing,” she said excitedly. “Shayim explained that with her attay, she’s able to change perception. The camp is
hidden from those who do not know of it. That’s why they were so surprised when they found us, and why they were so eager
to know how we had found them. We are meant to be here, Kasik. I know it.”
How Kasik wished he could carve her smile into his skin. He knew his next words would tear it apart and he would likely never
see it again. “No, Nina. You know nothing. We were only led here because the achiyanga set us off course. This was an ill-fated coincidence. Nothing more.” Kasik straightened
and pinned his gaze over her head, afraid that Nina would be able to hear the lie in his voice. He hardly believed his own
words, but he knew that if he did not say them, he would lose this fight. In fact, he might lose it regardless. “If I leave
you here and return to the emperor empty-handed, do you think he will not demand to know the truth?”
“You can lie. It’s not that difficult.”
“Just as you’ve lied all this time?” he said sharply. Nina’s mouth snapped shut, and he stepped away, unable to curb his hurt.
“Did you ever plan to return with me, or were you simply biding your time for the perfect opportunity for escape to present
itself?”
“If that were the case,” Nina said, her voice just as sharp, “I would have let you be eaten alive by the achiyanga. Or not
bothered to heal your wounds.”
“I think you did those things to appease your own conscience. But what will happen when my death, and the deaths of all these
people, are on your hands simply because you refuse to accept your fate? I cannot lie, Nina. If the emperor asks a question,
I am bound by my duty to the empire to speak the truth.”
“Well, I am not.” She crossed her arms and stared into his eyes. She was unyielding in that moment. “And I never agreed to your plans, or the emperor’s. I want to make my own choice. I want to stay here. I want to be free.”
“These people are not free,” Kasik spat. “They are trapped by their choices just as you and I are. These trees are the bars of their cage, and when
the emperor finds it, because he will—attay or no attay—they will all be burned for it. I watched him murder his brother in
cold blood to get what he wanted. You are a fool if you think what you want matters. You are what the emperor wants, and he will never allow you to slip through his grasp.”
Kasik’s chest heaved with the force of his words. They were just as much a reminder for him as they were for her.
Nina said nothing in return, but the way her eyes shifted between his, soft with seeking at first, then hard with determination,
exposed her every thought.
Who are you? her tear-stained eyes said.
Why have I ever trusted you? her quivering lips said.
I loathe you, her body said.
So be it. Kasik loathed himself, too.