I let go of her chumpi, hands up as if in surrender.
“Right, uh, let’s get going. I have at least a little bit to tell you–”
Mare yanks at my hand.
“Wha–”
He yanks again, this time both mine and the princess’s. The princess recovers faster than I do because she’s grabbing my hand and pulling me along. Mare must have figured something out while I was distracted by the touches. We’re following the large crowd gathering at the center square as the p’ututu, the chaski’s conch flute, rings out.
The soldiers are herding us in. It only gets worse as the square erupts into motion and shouts after the chaski’s message.
Because it’s just been announced that Intiraymi, the biggest celebration of the year, will still be happening in three days.
And the Aya Runa have threatened the Inka’s execution if the princess isn’t turned over by Intiraymi’s end at sundown. The princess, whose face they have now projected in the sky and distributed in drawings to the crowd.
Chapter 18
We leave the main crowd in the aftermath of the announcement, but we’re stopped by the growing frenzy at the edge. I’m in a daze of disbelief.
They got an image of the princess. Everyone has an image of the princess.
Why won’t the Guardians whisper to me now?
“We need to get out of here,” the princess whispers. “Let’s go, champion. We need to get out of here now–”
“We can’t right now,” I say, though my voice feels so distant I’m not sure it’s me speaking. My mind is racing with possibilities. The princess’s face is out, but now we have no choice but to act in three days. Not get the Sun Staff, not even reach the lake that’s still a week away, just save the Inka.
“I thoughtcan’twasn’t in a fool’s vocabulary,” she says with bared teeth.
“The soldiers have set up a lockdown for the town’s protection. They’re not letting anyone through.” That’s the gist of the information I gleaned, not that it matters much now.
“Then, get us through,Guardians’ Hero. Get me out of here before they, before they take me back.”
The desperation in her voice is what brings me back to my body. I didn’t realize I was smiling. Because the Inka is in danger, and the Aya Runa just gave me a stage to save her.
The princess grabs me by the shoulders and snarls.
“Listen to me–”
“We have to get to Cusco for Intiraymi,” I say, and she snarls.
“We have to get out of here before someone takes me back to Lima.” Her voice rises, then falls as she realizes how loud she’s getting. It’s not an issue in the building noise of the crowd, at least not yet. Some people are trying to move out of the square, looking scared and flinching at any outburst of voices. Some people are already fighting, emotions thick in their voice as they ask the soldiers to do something. The soldiers themselves are busy caging in the chaski both to stop him from leaving and protect him from the people demanding answers.
Mare saves us. He holds onto both our hands with an iron grip, so that when the crowd moves like a current, he takes us with him instead of getting ripped away.
“R,” he says, and the nickname snaps me out of the glaring match I have with the princess. “People are saying lockdown is soon. I heard them.”
Of course, the kid is the only one of us to still have his head on straight. He’s not warring with the elemental force of the princess’s fear, whether internal or external, or my bursting inspiration.
“We won’t find anywhere to sleep without registering as refugees first. That’s too risky. We need to move on to disguises,” I whisper, but the princess interrupts.
“Get me out of this line,” the princess says.
“I didn’t get us in this line.” I’m not lying. Because of our dress, not complete enough to make us blend in, the crowdsaround us are parting to let us through to the makeshift refugee registration stand at the end of the market. We can’t stop and veer without making ourselves more noticeable.
But the princess looks near tears, and Mare is disappearing into himself, and the crowd is getting thinner.
The princess is right. I know I need to get us to Cusco. It’s only a day's walk and on the way to the princess’s lakes, but that doesn’t mean staying in this exact situation now. I hold on tight to both their hands and flip us around. Mare, despite his age, doesn’t miss a step, and the princess turns with the grace of a feline. It makes my forced motion seem more natural, though enough people stare at us to make my nerves flare.
