We’re in an open air courtyard only a few feet wide. There’s a light on the ground, shining like a fallen star. I’m wondering why someone would leave an oil lamp on the ground like that when I feel Mare squirming at my side. He’s making the hand I’m holding into a fist, tensing and then releasing in erratic turns. His brows are furrowed, and the light casts shadows on his face that accentuate wrinkles.
“He’s talented,” the old man says from where he stands in front of a door to our left.
“What he is or is not is none of your business,” the princess answers. She snarls like he’s one of her own. “Use a natural light.”
That’s when it hits me. The light is from a mimic. As always, I try to feel that specialsomethingin the air that signals mimicry, but I get nothing. Mare, though, his teeth are clenched so tight I can see the muscle in his jaw jump. The light is small, but theuncanny way it illuminates the entire courtyard plus the second floor in one even sweep isn’t normal.
“Naturallight won’t survive here, baby Yana,” a voice comes from above. A woman, about the man’s age, descends the unstable, rusted stairs. “We have the power to keep it on for you and your friends. Why wouldn’t we?”
Despite the woman’s words, the light dims. Mare stops squirming, though the crease between his eyebrows never goes away.
“Youshouldn’tkeep it on because someone is paying for it. Power is not worth human life,” the princess bites out.
“It’s the only thing worth human life. You should know. You were powerful beyond belief back then, and you have the potential to be so again.” The woman punctuates the end of her sentence with a long sigh and stops before the last step. She looks at her feet as if contemplating the benefit of coming down. She makes no further effort to move toward us. “You’re here for a reason. It’s not to change our way of life, I hope.”
The princess bares her teeth. Her face is washed out and ashy in this light. She looks halfway to death.
“Your daughter was executed five days ago,” the princess says.
Her words stop my heart. I look at the woman standing above us. It’s as obvious as the light. There’s no point comparing her to a dead woman when the proof is alive and breathing and holding my hand. I look at the princess and see the two generations before her reflected in her face.
“You’re not kind enough to come all this way just to tell us that,” the woman says, face impassive as if the princess just reported the weather.
“You don’t know me,” the princess responds after a fateful second.
“We know your mother, and we know she told you never to set foot back here unless you had to. So what is it, baby Yana? What are you here to do?”
The princess is defeated.
“I’m out of samay, and I need to raise Isla del Sol.”
“So find someone to get more samay from,” the princess’s grandmother says, like it’s the simplest answer in the world.
“I don’t do that anymore. We’re trying to find another way.”
“No. You’re failing to find another way, and you’ll continue to fail,” the woman doesn’t have an inch of doubt in her voice. She’s so sure of it, of the cursed words she speaks, that I question my own resolve. We need to raise Isla del Sol. There’s no other choice.
“We shouldn’t have come here,” the princess says and shakes her head. “I told you I’d try and I’ve gotten you as close as possible to the island, but I can’t do anymore–”
“That girl isn’t listening to you,” the woman interrupts.
“Don’t you dare talk about her,” Yanami responds before I can.
“Can she not speak for herself?”
“I can,” I answer, relieved when my voice doesn’t waver. The insidious doubt has traveled to my throat, shutting it tight like a vice. Yet, I go on. “I want you to know that I’m the reason your daughter is dead and why Yanami is here in the first place. So, talk tome. We need a boat to get Yanami’s samay back. We’re going to pray to the Guardians.”
“You’re a fool,” the woman says Yanami’s words, and the vice tightens. When I speak, it feels like gasping.
“Or Inti, or Viracocha, if we have to, just tell us where we can find a boat here.”
“I can tell you what you want to know, clear and simple. She needs to drain someone’s samay to replenish her own, and she has everything in her to do it. That is the only way. My husbandand I, our daughter, everyone who’s ever known of that cursed stone has looked for other ways, and no one has ever found one. You think my daughter wouldn’t try?”
I do think that. At least, I did. And I got her killed for it.
“Stop,” Yanami spits out. “Just stop it, everyone. This was a mistake. Champion, I promised you I would try. Well, this is all I can give. I’m leaving tomorrow.” She rips her hand out of mine and walks toward the room in front of us. She doesn’t ask. She just opens the door and goes inside.
“That’s her mother’s room. The three doors to the left all lead to empty bedrooms as well. Feel free to take refuge in any,” the man says. His voice startles me. He stayed quiet throughout the heated exchange.
