Chapter 25
Kasik left the tent in a whirlwind of anger and insecurity. Nina could feel it in his threads, her attay heightened along
with her emotions to the point where she could see life and will in all corners of her vision. It was overpowering and nauseating
and exhilarating all at once. It also told her that she had no intention to harm Kasik, even subconsciously, since the achilla
was still around his neck. If he had remembered that, perhaps he would have thought twice about calling her a monster.
But regardless, she knew it was exactly what he thought, and it hurt her more than she could have imagined. Still, she followed
him out of the tent. Still, she watched him walk away, wishing things could be different.
“It is difficult,” Shayim started, her eyes also pinned to the shrinking image of Kasik, “to ascertain who is an enemy and
who is simply too afraid to enact change, and therefore an enemy by default.”
The woman grabbed Nina’s hand as they stood side by side. With that touch, it was as if Shayim’s soul whispered to her. Her
threads blazed bright, and Nina had to close her eyes against them. “The time will come when you will be forced to decide
who your enemy is. I cannot tell you how it will end, but you must always remember who you are, and that you are meant for more than
what anyone tells you.”
The words penetrated Nina’s heart in a way that reminded her how deeply she craved her mamay’s presence. It was she who could
tell Nina who she was, for Nina could not tell it to herself. She simply did not know. Her life had been simple, one day after
the next, the same as the day before, and she had never been forced to consider what choices she would make amid trials and
tribulations.
Now there were heaps of choices at her feet, at her fingertips, and she was expected to navigate them with wisdom and justice. She could not be blamed for who she became from the weight
of it.
When Kasik returned, he had two achipuma with him. Capac, as dark as the night surrounding them, his ears halfway back and
his eyes wide, and a smaller achipuma who sat with a huff at Kasik’s feet.
“This is Illari,” Kasik said. “She was stolen on my way to collect you.”
Nina approached the achipuma with an extended hand. Illari leaned forward and sniffed it, then promptly placed her head against
Nina’s palm. She was soft and warm, and so very trusting. Nina wanted to bury her face in Illari’s fur, to close her eyes
and inhale deeply and exhale this tension in her bones and deep within her soul that felt like she was being suffocated.
Illari stayed perfectly still as Nina mounted her. The smaller achipuma fit better between her legs, and there was plenty
of space without Kasik behind her. She did not miss his warmth, or the pressure of him that had held her together that first day. Nina did not need anyone to hold her together
now, and she promised herself she wouldn’t need it ever again.
Behind her, the sounds of the ayllu continued as if nothing had happened. Smoke from the communal fire rose high in the sky
and Nina closed her eyes, inhaling what she instinctively knew to be her last memories from this place. The side of her face
warmed with attention. She was wary to turn, to meet Kasik’s eyes, to see the judgment and the disappointment, and face the
consequences of her actions.
In hindsight, Nina had been reckless and brash. With a bit of coercing and guidance, she could have brought those men to their knees until Hatun and the others in the ayllu subdued them. She could have let them go. Let them return to the emperor and divulge all their secrets.
But Nina had taken their lives and cut their threats off at the knees. She had made her choice, and though she was searching
for the regret she should have felt, she was having a hard time finding it.
It was her choice to leave Shayim. It was her choice to follow Kasik, and it was her choice to earn her freedom by killing the emperor. Nina was taking control of her life now.
The taste of freedom sat on the back of her tongue, and her body craved more of it. No longer would she feel fear or remorse.
Only resolve.
It kept her warm as the cool air rushed over her during their travels, and after several hours of riding toward Vira, they
finally found a place to rest. Kasik left the achipumas under a tree, and then he worked to light a small fire.
“There are clothes in Illari’s pack,” he said, turning to face her. “We should change and burn these garments so no one asks
where we’ve come from.”
It was the first thing he had said to her since they left the camp, and his voice was different from before. More reserved,
as if he had placed her behind a wall. She watched as he tore off his shirt and threw it into the fire, the muscles on his
back undulating with the movement. The wounds that had threatened his life were completely gone. There wasn’t a hint of what
had transpired, including evidence of her healing. But she remembered the way those muscles had felt underneath her hands.
The strength. The potential. The control that he exerted every time he had used his body to protect her.
The golden coil at his chest shone brightly. Nina knew she could use it to end his life and was tempted to reach for it, to
grasp it between her hands and mold it to fit her will, to smother and—
The light blinked out of existence with the thought.
“Nina?” Kasik, watching her warily, took a step closer and then abruptly stopped, as if he hadn’t meant to move.
As if he was unsure of her. As if he thought she would kill him where he stood for saying the wrong thing.
And she couldn’t blame him, not really, not when she hadn’t given those men the chance to change their minds.
Would they have begged if she had dangled their lives over their heads? The thought made her doubt everything.
“I’ll change,” she said before rushing to hide behind Illari.
It wasn’t that she wanted to kill everyone, but there was a part of her that tried to convince her that their deaths—Emperor Maicu, the kunay, even
Kasik—might suit her needs and make things easier. That only then could she truly be free.
This is not who you are, Sacha had said, the imminent deaths of two boys in the palms of her hands. But she was beginning to think that her sister’s
expectations were lofty, and meeting them might be more difficult than she cared to attempt.
Another person to disappoint. The responsibility pressed on Nina’s shoulders as she changed her clothes and tossed her old
ones into the fire. The color of her new tunic was hard to parse in the shifting dark, but she assumed it was as red as the
one Kasik had worn to collect her, before it was torn and bloodied and dirtied beyond recognition.
So much they had endured together, all of it reduced to this tense, uncomfortable agreement. Neither of them said anything
about it as they lay on opposite sides of the fire.
But Nina couldn’t sleep, the call of Kasik’s threads too loud in the quiet of the night.
Just over a week later, they found the road, and she could see the tension that had existed in every shift of Kasik’s shoulders lift the moment their achipumas’ paws met the crushed rock.
The road looked like a wound that had been carved into the lush greenery only to heal into a discolored scar.
It was unnatural. An offense to the Tuta Kulla.
It was no wonder the achiyanga refused to come near it.
Kasik brought Capac beside Illari, their legs almost brushing with every step they traveled.
“How much longer until we reach Vira?” she asked.
“If we push hard, we could reach the city gates before tomorrow’s sunset.”
Nina glanced at the clear sky, the road ahead and then behind, the thick mass of trees on either side of them. Everything
looked exactly the same. “How can you tell?”
“There are markers in the trees.” Kasik’s voice was cold and impersonal, a loyal kamayuq once again, only answering her questions
to teach a lesson. “There, and there,” he said, pointing to a pair of trees on either side of the road. Nina saw a mark, but
she wouldn’t have thought anything of it had he not pointed it out, nor could she discern the meaning. She assumed that was
purposeful.
They lapsed into silence again, the weight of things unsaid enough to crush.
“Tell me about Emperor Maicu,” she asked, desperate to prove that nothing had changed, even if it meant inviting an argument.
Kasik hardly glanced sideways at her, but she saw the question linger in his mind. She wondered what kind of answer he was
crafting. One to scare her, like he had back in the camp, or one to encourage her, like he had after they left the acllahuasi.
All she knew of the man were the rumors whispered in her ayllu.
They were so far removed from Vira that, by the time news reached them, it was either watered-down or outlandish.
According to Lihan, a girl whose tayta was a fisherman, Empress Chaska had six toes on each foot she kept hidden in custom-made slippers.
“He’s charming,” Kasik started, his eyes distant as they moved back and forth over the tree line, “and devout. He truly believes
that the gods work through him.”
“And what do you believe?”
Nina saw Kasik’s jaw twitch and braced for a verbal sparring. “I believe that it isn’t my job to question the emperor or the
gods, and you shouldn’t, either.” Kasik glanced at her with a small smile carved onto his otherwise stern face. “Not out loud,
anyway. Maicu is honorable, but he can be cruel.”
“And he uses the gods as an excuse to enact that cruelty.” It reminded Nina of something her tayta used to say: A righteous man is a dangerous man. Men who thought themselves close to divinity, who allowed their delusions to guide their hands toward greed and lust, who
believed themselves above the law of the land.
“I imagine it must take many difficult decisions to run an empire.”
Nina scoffed. “I feel no sympathy for a man who grasps power with fists held tight. The trouble he finds is brought onto himself.”
“Emperor Maicu is continuing Emperor Yachua’s legacy. Uniting all our lands isn’t about control—it’s about ensuring that all
the people of this land have equal rights and equal protection.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “Now you’re just repeating what you have been spoon-fed all your life. My ayllu was a safe and happy
place before being absorbed.” Kasik huffed and she turned to glare at him. “We are favored by Pachamama. Our fields grow food
when they shouldn’t. Our animals thrive. Our people are free. Were free, before the emperor came and slapped a name on us and demanded the chani. Do not pretend that he does this for anyone other than himself, or that he doesn’t enjoy the power that comes from ruling over us all.”
“Just because your ayllu hasn’t seen the benefits of it doesn’t mean that others have not,” he said, the words sharp. He lifted
a hand to run through his hair and blew out a breath. The gold bands were around both arms again, sitting snug against his
flesh and reminding everyone with eyes that could see who he belonged to. “I don’t think it’s possible not to enjoy it. But does that make him evil? I’m not sure. You would know more about power than I do.”
Nina bristled and faced forward again. She refused to appreciate his face and arms and hands a second longer. “If you believe
that all power is the same, then you are sorely mistaken.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Kasik mumbled under his breath.
They had argued, but Nina was left thoroughly dissatisfied. Especially as the road narrowed and Kasik rode ahead, giving her
his back. Capac’s tail swished back and forth along with Kasik’s hair. She snorted and then pressed her lips together when
Kasik turned to glare at her.
But mirth bled away into appreciation once again.
There was no doubt in her mind that he was beautiful, carved with care by the gods he so dutifully served. His long black
hair was tied at the nape of his neck and fell against his back in a discreet show of privilege. Those who labored kept it
braided and out of the way most of the time. Kasik’s was thick and shiny, and she wanted to run her fingers through it. Just
once, to see how it felt.
Instead, she ran her mental fingers against the threads burning in his chest. They didn’t shy away from her touch so long
as Nina kept admiring. She thought about the definition in his arms, the strength in his legs as he sat atop Capac without
a hint of strain, the confidence with which he wielded both weapon and mind.
This was how she would get past the emperor’s many achilla. This was how she would kill him.
With less finesse than she had intended, she took Kasik’s thread in hand and tugged, appeasing the curiosity to know just how far she could go. Kasik gasped and beneath him, Capac jerked to a halt, his ears back and slitted eyes trained on the distance as if searching for a threat.
But the threat was right behind him, and Nina had failed. Kasik’s threads disappeared between one blink and the next, leaving
her hands and head and heart emptier than ever. The ground seemed to tilt beneath her with the loss.
Illari carried her to Kasik’s side. His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist, tugging her closer to him and keeping
her seated on Illari. Perhaps unintentionally, Nina thought, as Kasik bent over her, eyes boring into hers, his usually full
lips pressed into a grim line, and said through gritted teeth, “What did you do?”