“I could never hate you,” I say between her kisses.
“You’re a fool,” she responds.
I roll us until I’m on top, getting better access to her neck and chest. I’m holding her too hard. I know it. I know the tension in my body is seeping out.
I also know the desperation in Yanami’s eyes.
She wants to be a fragile thing.
Chapter 24
Idon’t remember falling asleep.
I wake up with my clothes covered in dirt and my arms full of Yanami. She’s fast asleep. Mare is too deep in the cave for me to see him, but the silence indicates he must still be unconscious. Yanami said it would be normal if he’s groggy for days, so I shouldn’t worry. I shake Yanami and bask in the tender way she cuddles deeper into my side instead of jolting awake. The sun is just starting to rise, and it feels like the beginning of something grand.
That feeling doesn’t go away. All through the morning, as I wash my shoulder and wrap it again, I float on the feeling of a new start. I startle Yanami with a kiss every chance I get. I cuddle Mare into my side whenever he’s cognizant enough to walk. I think of Suyai and how close we are to getting back to Lima, how close we are to a new life. First, the four sacred lakes. Then, Lake Titicaca. With the Sun Staff, I’ll return to Lima a hero with the new Inka at my side.
More than at my side. Yanami is my lover. The new Inka is my lover. We just need to get her samay back, on her own terms.
The trek to the lakes is not easy, but the lightness of the day makes it go by faster. I don’t feel tired. I don’t feel pain. My bodyfloats beside time like we’re old friends. It feels like only a few hours have passed, though the sun rays say otherwise, when we get to the K’eswachaka bridge.
“Scared of heights,” I tease, though my voice sounds distant even to me. It’s as if I’m watching myself speak from afar. Yanami scoffs, and I catch sight of the faint tremor in her hands.
I scan the surroundings I feel so disconnected from. I stand at the bridge, but I don’t feel the ground beneath my feet. The bridge is traditional for these parts. It’s made of plant fibers that are maintained once a year in a celebration that lasts four days. In the far reaches of my mind, I wish there were celebrations now. I wish I could hold Yanami close to me, kiss her, and dance the day away.
But the bridge is deserted.
My mind struggles to focus, but Yanami’s hands won’t stop shaking, forcing me into a sharp perspective that’s been absent all day. I’ve crossed many bridges just like this with the army during routine visits to the outer provinces, waiting in lines to cross behind packs of llamas and local artisans. It may look dangerous, but it’s held entire armies.
I know Yanami knows this as well. I know the Inka and Panaka have crossed more of these than I could count. Which is why I can’t stop staring at Yanami’s visible fear.
I scan the area for threats. The distinct aspect of this bridge is that it hangs over the Apurimac river that rages 20 meters below. The river rushes with life, crashing into the naked rocks that make up the deep canyon. My heart speeds up, and I savor the living feeling, faint but breaking through the haze of my mind.
Yanami grimaces, swallows hard, and still doesn’t move.I can’t swim. She told me that barely a week ago, with the sea spitting at our faces.
“I’ll walk backwards and face you,” I say. Yanami opens her mouth to argue, no doubt, but I won’t give her the chance. “Here, help me get Mare on my back.”
Her jaw is tense when she nods. Mare is strapped to my back in no time, and the weight grounds me despite my mind revolting at the suddenrealnessof it all. Walking backwards on the swaying bridge doesn’t make me feel a thing. Yanami’s shaking hand in mine, her harsh and fast breaths, her tense body, that does.
When we get to the other side, after the swaying middle and her bitten-off curses, I peck her on the lips, and she smiles, bright as the sun. My mind calms again, safe from the creeping heaviness that threatens to drag me under.
It’s only the sound of thunder that disrupts my focus on her shining skin. I look up, but I’m met with the clear skies of early evening. During the dry season, the mountain skies are a light blue, undisturbed by clouds or rain. Yet, thunder roars again, louder as if the heavens got impossibly closer to us.
“What is that–” My words are cut off by the ground shaking beneath my feet. Thunder roars once again, but this time it doesn’t stop. It rumbles and grows, and my back is to the first lake, and my face is searching the sky, and that’s why I don’t see it until Yanami whispers.
“I won’t cross again,” she says. My eyes lock on her face. She’s staring at something behind me, a determined look in her eyes that both calms and terrifies me. Yanami scared is a sight I never want to see again, but Yanami set on something, focused to the point of obsession, that type of fire I’d kill for.
I turn around in slow motion, like I’m wading through honey. When I see the deity before us, I don’t cower. When the giant beast turns, every footstep a thunderous hit to the ground, I look it dead in the eyes. When it growls, and my hair whips aroundmy face, all I do is close my eyes and breathe deep. I grab Yanami’s hand, and I’m invincible. Safe.
“Koa,” Yanami says. Yes, that is Koa before us, the giant feline god of mountain weather. With paws the size of boulders and teeth as long as my body, Koa is a force of nature. Would the Sinchinrei of the past have bowed before its majesty?
I don’t know. The line between who I was and who I am is blurred, just like my eyes are unfocused with unshed tears. The mania that rules my body refuses to wane, but maybe that’s how I’ve always been. Maybe it's the only reason I’ve made it this far.
“Koa, I will not turn back. Grant us passage, and we can all be on our way,” Yanami speaks with an authority that turns my stomach iron-hot. She’s the strongest person I know, and she’s mine. That much I can grasp in the haze of my mind. She’s mine.
Koa growls again, and the wind hitting my face is ice cold. However, it can’t penetrate my skin, not when my body is alight with desire from within. The god doesn’t hold my interest the way Yanami’s body does, so I indulge myself and shift my gaze.
Yanami squeezes my hand once and lets go. My breath hitches, but I don’t stop her. I’m her champion, the sword in her capable hand, and after all we’ve done, no matter how my head buzzes at the thought of all we’ve done, I know I owe her my trust.
