Chapter 33
Nina paced in her room the next morning, waiting for the empress or Kasik to knock on her door. It was difficult to know what
time it was due to the overwhelming lack of sunlight, and she had hardly been able to sleep in such a large bed and quiet
room. She was used to her sister beside her, the sounds of her parents in the kitchen, the hushed rustle of their fields from
outside.
These stone walls were thick and cold and strange. Everything about it and its occupants made her skin crawl, but she was
glad to have met the emperor and taken his measure. He was brazen and proud, with his flashy appearance and wandering hands
and smug smiles.
Nina knew exactly what she needed to do.
It was in that room that she realized she still had power. Perhaps not the kind she had hoped for, but one that held sway
over men, nonetheless. Nina would seduce Emperor Maicu into removing his achilla, and then she would remove his head.
As long as she was able to avoid Kunay Atik’s touch and Chaska’s meddlesome curiosity and Kasik’s overwhelming desire to help, then she might get everything she wanted.
Even if it was tempting to accept his hand, Nina could not, because leaning on him would lead her closer to a fall, and she
could not afford to fall. Falling meant failure, and failure meant danger for Sacha. The kunay and the emperor had no reason
to go back for her so long as she didn’t give them one.
Someone knocked. Nina stopped her pacing and ran her hands down her dress and over her hair. At the last moment, she decided to sit on the bed and affect an air of indifference. “Come in,” she sang.
The empress breezed through the door. Today, her dress was the color of the sky right before the sun fully rose during the
wet season, an orangey red that was on the border of the emperor’s color. “Good,” the empress said, stepping aside for an
attendant to follow her into the room. “You’re awake.”
They waited for the food and tea to be placed, and then the empress motioned for Nina to join her at the table. If Empress
Chaska insisted upon sharing her time, then Nina would sit and eat and drink and glean as much information from the woman
as she possibly could. Who else knew the emperor better than she?
The chair creaked underneath Nina. The steam from the tea caressed her face as she took a sip. It tasted normal again, just
like home. The familiarity made her heart ache.
“Are you ready for today? Master Wara is looking forward to meeting you.”
Nina swallowed the last of her mouthful. “Mmm, yes,” she quickly answered. “I’m curious about what he will teach me.”
“Good.” Empress Chaska nodded, and Nina could have sworn there was a glint of pride in her eyes. “And the mamakuna is a severe
woman, but she is not cruel so long as you comply. You are a virgin, yes?”
The question was so forward that it made Nina sputter and choke on a bite of fruit. She wiped her mouth with the back of her
hand, and it came away red, much like what she imagined her entire face looked like. “I haven’t . . . That is, there’s never
been . . . I don’t . . . Yes,” she finally settled on, mortification entirely replacing any confidence she might have successfully
portrayed.
“That’s good.” The empress grabbed a piece of pitahaya, a white fruit that was better suited to her elegance, and took a demure bite. “There must have been plenty of opportunity while traveling with Kasik. He is a handsome man, and he seems to care for you very much.”
Nina snorted indelicately. “He only cares about his honor,” she said, completely ignoring the handsome part. The way he looked was of no consequence to the feelings she didn’t have for him.
“That is truer than you know,” the empress said with a smile. “I have known him for as long as I’ve been at the kancha, and
he has never treated me as anything other than what I am to the emperor. I thought perhaps he wasn’t capable of it, but he
seems to be different with you.”
“I can assure you he is not,” Nina said, averting her eyes and fidgeting with the cup of tea to keep her hands busy. “His
loyalty is unshakable.”
The lie slipped past the memory of Kasik’s words outside Qorikancha. Ask me to forsake every vow I’ve ever made. But that had been before he believed her capable of controlling his desires. Before he had watched as they dragged her away
with nothing but betrayal in his heated eyes.
“In any case,” the empress said, a hand brushing aside an errant piece of hair over her shoulder. “It’s best to leave all
of that behind. You are meant for so much more than these men can comprehend.”
The sentiment reeked of ambitions and expectations, all of which she was currently desperate to sidestep, and was eerily similar
to the words Shayim had told her before she had departed the ayllu.
“Did you know that Master Wara served alongside Emperor Yachua? He taught Emperor Maicu all he knows, and he knows many things. Be sure to ask him all your questions and give him your ear.”
The empress’s words were innocent enough, but Nina couldn’t help but feel like there was something the woman was implying.
Something she wasn’t saying. “I understand,” Nina said, though she felt like she might not.
“Very good,” Empress Chaska said, rising. “Then I shall see you at dinner.”
Nina watched her walk toward the door and pull it open, but the empress turned at the last minute. “Just remember, he sees
everything.” To Kasik, she said roughly, “Temple, then tutor.”
Kasik bowed and waited until Chaska was gone to step into the room. His eyes flicked to Nina’s feet. “Shoes” was all he said,
and then he bent down to reach beneath her bed for the pair of slippers she had carelessly tossed aside after dinner.
“Nina, I—” he started, holding out her slippers as if to help her put them on.
But Nina snatched the shoes from him. “Do not,” she said, trying and failing to keep her balance as she shoved her feet into
them.
“That’s not fair,” he said, stepping closer to brace her before she lost her balance.
“Life isn’t fair, Kasik,” she said aloud. Distance, her mind screamed, and she yanked out of his grasp and hopped a step back. The more space between them, the better. “You
weren’t supposed to be here. We were never supposed to see each other again.” With both shoes finally on, Nina gathered herself
with a deep breath. “It was much easier to think that I could do this knowing that I wouldn’t.”
“I am sorry to disappoint.” Kasik stared at her, hurt splashed across features that softened in a way that made Nina ache.
He ran a hand down his face as if he could wipe it away. “I meant what I said before. This isn’t what I wanted, but I—”
“Cannot go against the wishes of your emperor,” Nina interrupted. “I am very aware of that. And why would you, when all it
took was one word from your tayta to believe that I have manipulated you into feeling anything for me?”
“You do not know me at all if you think I would be so easily persuaded.” Kasik stepped forward so quickly that the air left Nina’s lungs. His hands went around her arms, gentle but firm. “I am not the enemy, Nina, but there’s—”
“You are all the enemy.” Nina wrenched herself away from him and walked to the door. Her heart beat so wildly that it stole her breath,
but it was better to face away from him. To hide how difficult it was to be near but keep him at arm’s length. They weren’t
friends, or allies, or even acquaintances. They were strangers. No one and nothing at all.
“Nina, please,” Kasik begged, one hand extended toward her, a tether to ground her in this strange and terrifying world. As
always, it was tempting to accept. He was the only person who had seen what she had done and still, he offered his hand. Regardless
of her monstrous power.
Which was easily contained and not so monstrous, after all. It had taken one touch from Kunay Atik, and she could only feel
it like she could feel the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. There, but hidden behind a haze of white. Near, yet so far.
Like everything else seemed to be, it was entirely beyond her reach.
Nina was aware of the threads of those they walked by. She couldn’t touch them, but it was almost as if they were brushing
against her, waiting to be seen and cradled and used. The ache of craving was enough to distract her if she let it, but Kasik’s
presence beside her was steadfast. She focused on the accidental brushes of his arm instead, bent at his side with a hand
on the hilt of his blade as if challenging anyone who looked too long. And look, they did.
Attendants in blue flicked their eyes to her and away before she could meet them.
The walla were more brazen with their curiosity, stopping to greet Kasik and then letting their eyes trail over her before moving on.
There were others milling about who wore darker shades of blue but paid her little mind.
Visiting nobility, perhaps, under the protection of the emperor but did not belong to him.
The closer they got to Qorikancha, the quicker Nina’s heart beat. She had tried to avoid thinking about what the mamakuna
would require of her, but the chunks of gold illuminating the building that flashed in the late-morning light forced her to
remember Chaska’s words and truly consider them.
A virgin.
It seemed that she could not marry Emperor Maicu if she was not one. Perhaps it could be another path to ending this arrangement.
A plan, in case murder did not pan out. She only hoped that the gods could not hear her thoughts and strike her down.
A light hand pressed against the small of her back. It was warm and grounding, as always. “Are you all right?” Kasik asked,
but his gaze was focused over her head, his eyes darting around as they had in the Tuta Kulla. Even in his own home, he was
on watch.
Nina hadn’t realized she’d stopped. “I’m fine,” she said quickly. Kasik’s hand fell away when she resumed walking, and she
hated how much she missed the warmth of it.
Until he guided her through a narrow doorway and into the temple of the sun god, and her breath was taken away. It looked
entirely different then the first time she had seen it.
The ceilings still soared high above, but the cavernous room was cut with streaks of sunlight that poured in from small pass-throughs
interspersed throughout. There was no furniture to sit on, no finery to admire. The beauty was captured in the beams of light
and how they illuminated the golden discs bearing the likeness of the sun, the glare so strong that Nina’s eyes burned.
On the opposite side of where they stood was a platform, where statues made of gold stood, each in the shape of a man with long hair and a giant headpiece made of glossy black feathers balanced on his crown.
“The past emperors. They are embalmed and then cast in gold to preserve their connection to Inti.”
Kasik’s voice was little more than a whisper. It sent a shiver down her spine. She took a step closer, was about to ask which
one was Emperor Yachua, when a figure walked out of the shadows and into a beam of light.
The mamakuna of Qorikancha. Her elegant purple robes and severely cut features made her seem otherworldly. “You may go,” she
said to Kasik, who nodded and turned away, barely cutting Nina a glance before he left. She felt betrayed by his hasty retreat,
and she hated herself for it.
“Come.” The woman beckoned her forward with a hand, but Nina remembered the mamakuna from the acllahuasi, and her animosity
that seemed heightened specifically toward Nina. She wasn’t sure any of them could be trusted. As if sensing the root of her
hesitation, the mamakuna added, “I will not harm you, child. Come closer so that I can fulfill the emperor’s request.”
Having no other choice, Nina met the woman in the center of the room, underneath a sharp beam of sunlight. The warmth was
a much-needed reminder of home. Unexpected that she could find pockets of familiarity among such strangeness.
Up close, Nina could see the woman’s eyes weren’t black, like she had thought, but a color like the darkened ash that lies at the bottom of the hearth in her kitchen back home.
“What you are about to witness is something that no other knows the truth of. Not even the emperor. It is a secret between those of us descended from Pachamama and Killa.” She held out her hand, palm up, and Nina thought she was meant to place hers in the mamakuna’s, but instead, a burst of flame shot up from the center of it.
Nina stumbled back out of instinct, filled with equal parts awe and terror. Ikara, her soul whispered. She is like me.
“There is a belief among the men of our land that the fire only presents itself for a girl who has remained untouched. I can
see that you have,” the mamakuna said, her eyes glittering like two blocks of burning coal. “And I am sure you can see why
this must remain between us.”
“Of course,” Nina breathed. She was entranced by the small fire. It burned in a perfectly contained spiral that tapered to
a point at the top. The control it must have taken . . . Nina was envious. And tempted to ask how she could learn to wield
her attay so delicately, but it blinked out of sight, plunging the mamakuna’s face back into shadows.
“Another one of us at the emperor’s side is an opportunity that cannot be mismanaged,” she said, but Nina wasn’t sure what
she meant by another one of us. Another woman? Another Ikara? What kind of opportunity? “Be sure to handle the position with care.” The mamakuna backed out
of the sunlight and into the dark, the shape of her growing smaller and darker until she disappeared entirely, leaving Nina
alone and with more questions than she came in with.
Behind her, the golden sarcophagi shone obnoxiously, like small suns set against the night sky. From a near distance, she
could hear the sounds of the people of the kancha going about their daily lives.
And within her, Nina’s power swirled like the gentle forming of an eddy. A flicker of recognition. A glimpse into the darkness.
A reminder of her greatest desire to be free.