Chapter One
Solana knew that the rooftop underneath her belly was the closest she would ever get to Hanan Pacha.
It was said that only those who obeyed the Rule of Three—do not steal, do not lie, and do not be idle—would be granted the opportunity to bask in the essence of the upper realm where there was no pain or sorrow or fear, but Solana had broken two of those rules every single day of her life.
It would have been three, if she could afford to be idle.
As it was, she had been hired to dispatch another muki.
She used the term hired loosely; they hadn’t been able to pay her modest fee, and Solana, out of the kindness of her heart and an insatiable craving for picarones, agreed to half her price and a batch of the doughy, sweet dessert.
Now, she was lying on a hard and hot rooftop with her oldest friend beside her, waiting for the last rays of the sun to finally sink below the horizon, and for her target to show itself.
It was only from years of hunting that she knew exactly where the muki would appear. Everything she knew about them and hunting she had learned the hard way—firsthand experience.
Which was why, when the dagger at her hip warmed with warning, a once strange occurrence that had become familiar and exceedingly welcomed, Solana leaned closer to Sami and whispered into his ear, “It’s coming.”
Sami turned his head ever so slightly, one of his overgrown curls tickling her nose on the way.
They were close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek as he sought her ear.
She closed her eyes against the intimacy and the ache of loneliness that accompanied it.
Suddenly, the dying light of day was too bright, exposing Solana and the want within her for Sami to see.
But it was not want for Sami. It was a want that reveled in the dark, in the thrill of the hunt and the kill and the rewards it reaped. It was an insatiable craving for freedom.
The King’s Medallion was the only way in and out of Supay, and out of Supay was what Solana wanted most. The land was closely monitored by the Masters, King Killian’s gifted military, and only those in possession of the small silver coin were allowed to come and go as they pleased.
“Are you sure about this?” Sami asked for the umpteenth time.
She gritted her teeth. “I’m sure,” Solana said calmly. “But you’re more than welcome to go home if you aren’t.”
Sami sighed and faced forward once again. Solana’s eyes lingered on his profile for several heartbeats, hoping for him to take her offer and leave her once and for all, before turning back to the city with disappointment.
Below them, the streets of Qhilli were dark and quiet, most of its citizens behind closed doors.
Only the foolish and the desperate wandered at night, and Solana was squarely in at least one category.
Possibly both, if she was honest with herself.
Sami was the foolish one, always insisting on accompanying her despite the danger, and never accepting the half of the pay she tried to give him after each job.
It would have made her feel better if he had taken the money. With their current arrangement, it felt like his loyalty was a weight upon her shoulders that wanted for more than she could give.
“Go home, Sami. Really. I can handle this one myself.”
Nearby, the twang of bells pealed through the quiet. It was finally full night. Solana’s eyes scanned the streets, but the muki still wasn’t within sight. If she didn’t find it soon, it would be the only job she could complete before the sun rose and the muki vanished with the brilliance of day.
“I’m not leaving,” he said incredulously. “Who else would keep you from getting yourself killed?”
Solana snorted. She had been living and surviving on her own for more than ten years in a city where the dead returned as demons to haunt the land.
Everything she did, every job she accepted, every muki she killed and every payment she squirreled away, was only to support her greatest desire and avoid her greatest fear—dying on Supay.
If anything, Sami slowed her down, and though she opened her mouth to say it, the words sitting on the tip of her tongue would not come out. It was the one lie she couldn’t make herself believe. “I don’t need you—”
A rock skittered across the ground. Solana was up and running with her dagger in her hand before Sami could push to his feet.
She felt him following close behind but spared him no thought as she quietly descended the ladder and landed on the ground floor with a thud.
There she paused and let her eyes adjust to the shadows cast by the tightly packed buildings.
A flash of glistening flesh and nightmarish talons darted through a shaft of moonlight far ahead. Silently, Solana gestured for Sami to follow and took off without waiting. Muki were fast, and her policy was always attack first and ask questions later. That was what had kept her alive thus far.
Following instinct, she made a sharp turn around the next corner to cut off the muki and instead ran full speed into a soft, fleshy wall.
The cool metal against her palm and a high-pitched gasp of surprise were the only things that kept her blade from seeking flesh, but it wasn’t enough to keep her on her feet.
Bodies collided, and Solana twisted to cushion the fall with her shoulder.
The old leather padding she wore was ill-fitting and did little to protect from the impact. She would definitely be sore later.
For now, the only thing she could focus on was the small, warm body on top of her.
Sami skidded to a stop beside them. “Alina?” he said.
Godsdamnit. Solana blew out a breath and dropped her head back.
The girl scrambled off Solana and placed her hands up, palms out. “This isn’t what it looks like—”
“Oh, yes, it is,” Solana said. She stood and brushed the dirt from her shoulder and arm, hiding a wince. “You’re looking for trouble and found it.”
Alina stepped back. “Wait!” she whisper-yelled, dodging the hand that Solana reached out. “I was able to track it! I can help!”
With a sigh, Solana glanced at Sami and found him hiding a smile behind a fist. As if any of this was funny. The glare she threw at him wiped the smile from his face.
The dagger was cool in her hand, which meant the muki had moved away at some point and she now had a long night of hunting ahead of her, without picarones this time around.
She had to keep her end of the bargain, and that did not include training a thirteen-year-old girl to be a vicious muki hunter, even if that girl was the daughter of the man who made the best pisco in the city and would surely pay her handsomely for such services.
Solana stalked forward and ripped the sheathed kitchen knife from Alina’s side. The girl didn’t flinch, much to her credit, and she was unfortunately tall for her age. Solana had no height advantage to intimidate her with. “Do you know who you would have killed with this?”
“A muki?” Alina said, voice high with uncertainty.
“Yourself.” Solana tossed the kitchen knife to Sami, who caught it and slid it into his back pocket in one smooth motion. “We’ll take you back to your father and tuck you into bed like the child you are.”
“I’m not a child.” Alina stomped her foot. “I’m almost the same age you were when you started hunting!”
Solana looked into the girl’s eyes, wide and brown and innocent, and took a deep breath.
Though it was long ago, she remembered feeling just as passionate and motivated.
Before reality warped everything. “I had no other choice. Muki had taken everything from me—” Sami cleared his throat suggestively.
Solana ignored him. “—and killing them was the only thing that kept me alive.”
In more ways than one. Without waiting for a response, Solana stormed away and slipped around the corner, dagger held tight.
The pressure was comforting where once it had dug and chafed.
Her skin, just like her heart, had hardened over time, but she would be damned if she partook in the hardening of another young girl’s heart.
One day, Alina would be alive to thank her. That was all that mattered.
If anything happened to her, to any of the people of Qhilli, it would be Solana hunting their demon forms. It would be her releasing them from the anguish of a relentless curse.
It was already too much responsibility to bear, and she didn’t need to add any more on top of it, even if it meant keeping everyone, including Sami, at arm’s length.
She waited at the end of the alley for Alina and Sami to join her, and then she carefully led the way back through the winding streets to Jacobi’s tavern, allowing the temperature of her dagger to keep them safe.
The closer they drew to the tavern, the more the streets opened.
The Masters sometimes sent patrols to this part of the city and stole her jobs right from underneath her, but they did no such thing in the center of the callejon, where the streets were narrow and dirty and the people mostly forgotten.
Even so, sneaking out past the last bell, wandering the streets alone, demanding to be taught how to hunt muki—it was one too many missteps in a world where missteps could not be afforded. Solana could only imagine the thrashing Alina’s father would give his young daughter.
Qhilli was not given the same consideration as Sonqo, the city where the king and the wealthy lived, nor did they receive the same treatment as Iques, the middle city where traders and laborers and crafters eked out a living.
If her people were caught hunting muki, they would be imprisoned.
If they were found to have and use magical gifts outside of the king’s service, they were charged a hefty fine they couldn’t possibly afford to pay, and then imprisoned.
If they traded illegally in himaya, stones that held magical gifts, they were imprisoned, labeled a traitor, and then executed.
Solana also knew that from firsthand experience.