“You knew where I was! You could have come to get me,” I yell, reaching out to grab her arm, but she rips it out of my hold and walks past me. I growl and grit my teeth. “You’re here now, without him.”
“The last thing I need is to have Mare see you all scratched up and ask what you were doing because you’d actually tell him! You’d encourage it!” She whips around, and some of her tight curls escape the two ponytails she has resting low on her shoulders. They stick to her forehead and cheeks because of the sweat lighting up her skin. Winter is seeping into every corner of the empire, but physical exertion and pure anger heat her from the inside out. Suyai looks beautiful even when she’s furious.
Maybe even especially when she’s furious.
“You know the kind of propaganda they’re filling his head with?A calamity has been announced. What if I can help the princess?” Suyai tries to mimic Mare, but the undertone of stress in her voice kills the illusion. “He spends all the time he can fighting with the other soldiers’ kids when I spent heavens know how long getting him into nobility classes. They all want to be the champion at the princess’s side when she finds the Sun Staff. They don’t understand war. And if history is right, itwillbe a war, Rei.”
Suyai’s not wrong, but all I can do is look down to hide the small grin on my face. That’s my boy, fierce and ambitious and brave as hell. The princess may be the one who finds the Sun Staff and carries it into victory, but we’ll be the ones fighting for glory.
“I can’t fucking stand you sometimes, Sinchinrei. You’re actually proud of him, aren’t you? He could be climbing that cliff right behind you, and you’d cheer right up until he fell–“
I grab Suyai’s shoulders and press her against me. She melts into my arms. I raise one hand to stroke her head. We’re the same height, have been since we met at four years old. It’s easy for me to turn my head and give her a kiss on the cheek.
“I didn’t mean to miss our lunch, Susu.” I’m not lying, but we both know I’ll never say I regret it.
She exhales into the curve between my neck and shoulder.
“We can leave, Rei.” She stops talking when my hold on her shoulders tightens.
I sigh and look up. The heavens span above us, uncaring. Ever since the calamity was announced, she’s been suggesting the impossible. She’s been a volatile mix of anger, sadness, and cowardice.
“No, Sinchinrei, you’re going to listen. Because we can leave. Please, we can just leave.” She’s holding back tears, but I won’t take the blame for this one. No. Suyai wants to let go of everything we’ve built here and run away. She wants us to desert our positions.
She doesn’t get it yet. Becoming a unit leader, a Kama, isn’t optional. It’s a necessary step on our way to becoming heroes of the calamity, like those before us. Only from five generations ago, they are memorialized in stone. Their names are whispered in prayer. Those who fight beside the Inka are set for life. Just like my mother, theApukispay, leader of the Inka army, is.
And I know I can be better, have to be, or I’m as worthless as I was fourteen years ago.
“I saw my mom yesterday,” I say. Suyai wants some rationale for my actions, though she’ll never say it out loud. It won’t ease the tension between us, but it’s something to soothe the wound. She needs to know I’m not doing this to be careless. I needed to climb today because I saw her, the Apukispay, the head of the entire army, personal guard to the Inka,my mother. Her unit is starting a new training schedule to prepare for the calamity. I had stared at her face, still holding on to the childish side of me that swore she would be able to feel the heat of my glare and look my way.
She didn’t.
It was the reminder I needed about what’s at stake. I woke up today with her steel eyes fresh in my mind.
“You should leave her to do what she does best. As much as I hate to say it, other than the princess, she’s the best we’ve got. The princess and the Sun Staff, they are the heroes of this story. When will you accept that?” Suyai’s voice rises with each word.
“When you stop being a sore loser every time we spar.” I switch to teasing. I duck out of her reach and take off in a sprint, already anticipating the punch she throws. I stop once I get a few feet ahead, not wanting to escape her reach completely. She glares, and I brace myself, smiling wide, all teeth and squinted eyes zoning in on her stance.
I block her first hit aimed at my head with my elbow, but she doesn’t even take a second before sending another hit to my side, which I block with my knee. She’s laughing now, and the sound soothes my aching muscles. Rolling on the ground with her, blocking most hits and landing a few good ones myself, I can almost pretend it’s a week ago. Before I upped my training. Before the Guardians led the diviners to read disaster in the cosmos. The exhaustion that weighed me down steadily slips off my shoulders as the coca spreads through my system. It’s Suyai and me, fighting and laughing as we have for years.
I throw a right hook that Suyai should have no problem blocking, but instead of hitting the fleshy part of her arm like I expected from her block, my fist makes solid contact with her cheek. Her head snaps to the side, and I jump off her, falling backward.
“Oh damn, Su-suyai,” I stammer out, eyes wide in residual shock. It’s been years since one of us got hit in the face by the other. We know each other’s fighting style too well for that. “You should have blocked that.”
Her dark cheek blooms a deep red, threatening to bruise from the force of my hit. We’ve never held punches. Yet, she gives no indication that she feels any pain. Her brows furrow and her lips part in a silent question. I’m staring so intently at herface that I almost miss a few strands of her brown hair turning a stark white, a sign of some of her lifespan draining away.
Mimicry, the poor imitation of the pure power of our Guardians. Our three Guardians have unlimited control over their domains, the heavens, the earth, and the underworld. Mimics insult our Guardians every time they wield that same control, and they get closer to death as punishment. The mimics must use up their samay, the limited life energy inside all of us, and lose some of their lifespan in the process.
Everyone has samay, but not everyone can use it. I can’t, never could, and probably never will. But Suyai, brilliant Suyai, can. Through mimicking the Guardian Ave’s power over the heavens, she can intercept other mimicry in the air. If anyone in the vicinity is using their samay, she can figure out exactly their intention and the final effect.
The three strands of white hair now littering her head serve as a temporary mark of her insolence. The strands will return to normal eventually, but she will never recover the small amount of lifespan lost.
“What’s going on?” I whisper, reluctant to disturb her but unable to stay quiet. I try to sense anything in the air, but it’s hopeless.
“They’re readying a projection for later today,” Suyai whispers, half-distracted by what she’s sensing.
I keep quiet despite my questions. Suyai’s plump lips press into each other, morphing into a pink-brown line. Her eyes move back and forth, seeing some unknown thing in the air.
The last time the Inka projected a message, a moving image appearing in the sky, was three days ago. It targeted the entire palace grounds and starred my mother, the Apukispay.All members of the Inka’s Army are to appear at the west end training grounds immediately,my mother ordered as the highest-ranked representative of the Inka.
