Chapter Nineteen
The ball ended with the dawn bells, and Solana slipped out of the castle among the crowd of stumbling partygoers.
Some entered carriages once outside the gates, others meandered down the main road, past the stores opening for another day and the merchants trying to make a living in the inner city.
Those were not the vices Solana was seeking.
She wanted to drink until she forgot the weight of the king’s attention on her.
Until she forgot who she was.
The best course of action would have been to slink into a faraway tavern where she knew no one. But she wanted some semblance of comfort. A sliver of normalcy in a world that had been turned upside down.
Masimu was alive. Her father was not dead.
He was trapped in the underworld, suffering for the betrayal he had wrought.
Solana had spent the majority of her life in the shadow of his existence and disappearance, ravaged with guilt and misplaced responsibility, and now the culmination of that was her father, alive, her mother, dead, and her, aware of his survival and given an impossible task to leave well enough alone.
Something Solana had never been very good at. Hence the forthcoming ocean of pisco she was about to drown herself in.
The tavern was entirely empty, with stools on top of tables and one person behind the counter buffing glasses. He glanced up at her. “Not open yet,” he said dismissively.
Solana slammed a handful of ilyas on the counter. “How about now?”
Eyebrows raised, the man swiped the ilyas into an apron tied around his waist and slid a glass in front of her.
“Grab a seat,” he said, gesturing with a nod toward a stool.
By the time she sat down, there was a full glass of pisco in front of her, the dark amber color warming her insides just by sight.
It wasn’t as good as Jacobi’s, but it was good enough, and the man serving her never let it empty before pouring her another round. She was three deep when someone else walked in.
“Hey, Lujan,” the barkeeper called.
The man named Lujan waved over his shoulder and then went to the corner of the tavern and unpacked a cuatro.
Solana turned and leaned against the bar top and imagined it was Celeste readying to play, and she was back in Qhilli, where the tavern wouldn’t have been so empty and she wouldn’t have been so alone.
As the hours passed, people slowly filed in, some on their breaks from local shops, some passing by from a morning spent in the market.
Solana watched them all and created stories for them.
The one eating in the corner by himself was escaping a needy wife.
The boisterous one sitting with friends was escaping himself.
Anything to keep from thinking of her own problems. Lujan played and played, and Solana sat and sipped and listened until the room spun and she lost track of time and reason.
“Hey, Sami,” the barkeep called. “This one here is cut off. She’s drank her weight in pisco. King Killian won’t be too happy if she suffocates in her own vomit.”
Hardly inebriated enough to let that comment slide, Solana spun in the stool and planted her elbows on the bar top. “I paid you more than enough to keep this coming.”
“There are not enough ilyas in the whole of Auquis for me to piss off the king by getting his Royal Demon Hunter killed. It’s not my fault you paid too much in advance.”
He disappeared through the door that led to the kitchens, and Solana turned her pout onto Sami, who stood several paces away, his eyes taking her in with careful indifference.
His hair had been cut, and it seemed his shoulders had filled out.
It was Sami, but different than she knew. Older, and harder, and colder.
“What are you doing here, Solana?” He grabbed a tray of glasses from the end of the counter and began dunking them one by one in a tub filled with soapy water.
Solana watched, mesmerized, while she tried to come up with an answer. What was she doing there? “I wanted to see a familiar face,” she finally said.
Sami scoffed. “You only want familiarity when it’s convenient for you. Did you get in trouble with the king? Did that silver-haired guy figure out that you aren’t actually interested in anyone but yourself?”
The last barb felt like a slap to the face. It stung, but she was just drunk enough to weather it without storming out of the tavern. “My father is alive,” she said, lips loose from alcohol and loneliness.
Finally, Sami looked at her, brows pulled together, eyes darting back and forth like every conversation they ever had was running through his mind. “I thought you didn’t know who he was.”
“I lied,” she said.
“I’m not surprised.” With a sigh, Sami gestured toward the back of the tavern, where three doors led to the storeroom, the kitchens, and a small alley, Solana found out.
The air was cool and the sky was a soft orange.
Soon, the dusk bells would ring and another night would come and go.
People would die, muki would return, and she would not be the one to capture them.
Not tonight, at any rate. Hopefully never again.
“Sami, I—” Solana went to reach for him, but he sidestepped her.
Heat rose in her cheeks. She had never handled rejection well.
It was part of the reason she hadn’t told Sami the truth.
To see him deny her because of who she was would have been the thing to separate her from any humanity she had left.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, eyeing the dress she still had on.
Solana glanced down at herself, then back up. “It’s a dress, Sami. Haven’t you ever seen one?”
One corner of his lip curled. “You never wear dresses.”
“I never really had reason to before, but things change.”
“It seems so.” Sami sighed and then gestured at her. “You’re here to unburden yourself, so go ahead. But make it quick,” he added. “I have to work.”
Feeling suddenly insecure, Solana crossed her arms over her chest. “The proclamations plastered all over the walls of Qhilli,” she started.
“Masimu Quispe, the Traitor of Supay … That’s my father.
I thought he was dead, but he’s alive. Stuck in the underworld, somehow, and I have to—I don’t know.
I have a gift, and the king seems to think that I could do what he could not and reverse the curse? ”
Solana took a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I actually don’t know why he told me about my father.
It’s all a bit of a blur. There was a lot of staring and dancing and—” She glanced at Sami, whose concern had morphed into something darker, something less familiar.
“I just—I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, or how I’m supposed to ignore the fact that my father is alive. ”
Sami held up a hand. “What do you mean, reverse the curse?”
“Remember how I’m immune to muki poison?
And how I kind of lose consciousness after killing a muki?
Well, it turns out that I have a gift and it somehow allows me to release and command muki.
” Solana shifted from one foot to the other, unsettled under the weight of Sami’s dark gaze.
“Because of that, the king thinks that he can use my blood to release the curse.”
“That’s—” Sami paused and then blew out a breath. He settled on, “a lot. All those years, all those nights we spent hunting together, and you never once felt inclined to share?”
“Of course I did. I wanted to tell you every single time I saw one of those proclamations stuck to a wall. Every single time you held me together. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me now.” She flung a hand toward his face.
“And how am I looking at you?”
“Like I’m a monster.” Solana spit the word at him, feeling only slightly guilty when he flinched back. “This is why I could never let myself love you. There’s this darkness inside of me…” She gripped at her chest, holding in the swell of emotions threatening to break free.
Sami shook his head and looked away, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her, the pain in his eyes enough to cut. “You never gave me the chance to make that choice for myself.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.” Instead of stepping closer like she wanted, Solana closed her hand into a fist at her side. “I didn’t want you to love me.”
“And yet, here we are. I love you.” Sami shrugged and gave her a half of a smile, one corner of his lips tilted and his eyes empty. “I don’t know what else to say.”
Nothing. Anything.
It was foolish of her to think that she could share this burden with anyone. It had been hers alone since the day her father disappeared, and it would continue to be hers alone until she severed the ties that bound her. Sami, and Qhilli. All of Supay.
She wouldn’t be free until she was free of all of them.
The dusk bells rang, three strong chimes that echoed against the stone walls, down the small alley they stood in, and reverberated in Solana’s head. Too much to drink and the only thing she had to show for it was a headache.
“I shouldn’t have come.” She backed away from Sami slowly. “The others will be expecting me soon. Take care of yourself, yeah?”
“Solana, wait—”
But she was already gone, letting go of the last of the past she held on to.
Night fell over the streets of Sonqo like a plague.
Slowly at first, and then all at once, shadows shifting from murky to opaque.
Solana stayed where she was in the corner between two buildings, waiting patiently for trouble to find her.
She was in the mood to release something, whether it be her anger or muki from their own brand of torment.
She was desperate to feel something other than the pathetic pity that welled inside of her.