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Uncle Joe stepped in under the kitchen roof. His glare was enough to make my eyes water, since I knew he was upset because he cared for me. “Cat, what arseness is this yee’s playing at? I reckon the new Assembly ought better protect a gal who cut off the head of the Taino invasion.”
“Do the Taino have the legal right to invade, according to the terms of the First Treaty? Because of the broken quarantine?”
“Lawyers might say so. That was a long time ago.”
“That it was a long time ago doesn’t change the law. I’ve extracted a promise from the prince that he will never harass or harm anyone who lives here.”
Uncle Joe’s grip was hard, and yet because it was so, I felt heartened. “Don’ forget, gal, that in the eyes of many folk here in Expedition, ’twas the death of the cacica that freed us from the old Council’s unjust rule. When she died and the Taino had to withdraw, that was when the Assemblymen had a chance to overthrow the Council and change the government of Expedition.”
“Yee shall find people aplenty in Expedition these days who shall fight to keep yee safe, gal,” said Aunty. “Don’ think otherwise.”
“Believe me, I won’t let them kill me.”
Uncle frowned. “The Taino rule the Sea of Antilles. Don’ make the mistake of thinking them weak. Their behiques is the most powerful of all. I reckon yee don’ truly understand how far the power of Taino fire mages can reach.”
“I have my own secrets. Anyway, I can’t die, for if I did, then who would rescue Vai?” Overwhelmed by longing for the home I had so unexpectedly found at the boardinghouse, I kissed her smooth cheek and his rough one. “But I don’t know what will happen after.”
Uncle Joe sighed. “I shall fetch yee some provision.” He went back to the counter and returned with two flasks, one filled with ginger beer and one with rum.
Aunty looked through the satchel prepared for me with flat rounds of cassava bread, unpeeled guava, jerked chicken, and a gourd filled with rice and peas. “Come back to us if yee can.”
I slid my ghost-sword into a sleeve of cloth to hide it from trolls and fire mages, made my farewells, and joined the prince at the gate.
Caonabo indicated a low-slung carriage waiting on the street. I climbed to the back bench seat, which was shaded by a hood but open to the air. Prince Caonabo sat on the facing seat.
The carriage rolled down a street illuminated by gaslight. Hooves clopped on cobblestones.
“We Taino did not have horses before the fleet from the Empire of Mali came. They are useful animals, beautiful in form and intriguing in their behavior. Do you not think so, Perdita?”
Two could play that game of batey! “I’ve not had the opportunity to study the habits of horses. We did not own any at the house where Beatrice and I grew up as devoted as sisters.”
“Ah, Beatrice.” His expression shaded into a grave smile. “I wondered how soon you would mention her. As you already know, Perdita, when General Camjiata came to Sharagua, he offered Queen Anacaona a trade. In exchange for Taino gold, soldiers, and weapons for his Europan war, he would give her son and heir for bride a young woman who walks the dreams of dragons. Such a woman is precious beyond jewels, for she can see the meeting places and crossing points of the future. With such a bride, my claim to the duho—the seat of power—would be strengthened. Naturally, my mother accepted on my behalf.”
“Bee won’t stand by and let me be condemned. She’ll never forgive you if I die.”
He sat back against the upholstered seat. “Yet if I am to be accepted as the next cacique, I must see the cacica’s murderer brought to justice. Since it was my honored mother’s wish that I succeed her brother as ruler of all the Taino, you may comprehend my dilemma.”
“I think you should just let me go, Prince Caonabo. My hand did not kill your mother.”
“You speak as do the feathered people, disguising your meaning beneath words that hide the truth. I was there the night it happened, on what you call Hallows’ Night, on the ballcourt. I saw a saber-toothed cat break my mother’s neck. I saw a swarm of creatures with teeth and claws rip my mother apart. I saw a hunting hound run off into the night carrying my mother’s head in its jaws. So pray excuse me if I neglect the usual polite talk and cut to the heart.”
“Truly, Your Highness, I think we have passed the point where we need concern ourselves with polite words.”
His gaze was steady, not angry. “I heard what you said to the maku spirit lord that night. You addressed him as ‘Father.’ You said, ‘Are you going to let that fire weaver destroy me? I guess you can’t stop her.’ Do you not think those are strange and careless words with which to ask for the death of another person? Because I do.”
The cavalcade reached the boulevard that fronted the sea, a long stone-built jetty. Waves sighed against rocks and piers; it was a gentle evening, with a gentle wind and a gentle swell. A wagon drawn by a dwarf mammoth trundling along the boulevard caught the prince’s attention. When his gaze flickered that way, it was all the distraction I needed.
Born to a human mother, I had been sired by a creature of the spirit world. That meant I could reach into the interstices that wove together the mortal world and the spirit world and draw those threads around me to hide my body from mortal eyes. With satchel and cloth-covered cane clutched against me, I wrapped myself in shadow. A bounce on the forward seat gave the impression I had leaped out of the carriage.
Prince Caonabo’s attendants shouted in alarm. I held my breath and rode the jolt as the driver hauled the horses to a halt. Soldiers scattered to search for me. The prince passed a hand over his face. For no more than a breath, he smiled as if my audacity reminded him of something that amused him greatly. Then a captain ran up, and Caonabo’s expression settled back into cool reserve. He beckoned to the soldier. As the captain mounted into the carriage, rocking it, I stepped off.
The shouts of the soldiers covered the thump I made on landing. I dodged away and caught my breath under a hissing gas streetlamp, in full sight but entirely veiled by my shadows. Carters and wagoners on their way home pulled aside. One old carter lit a cigarillo nervously, puffing smoke. Young toughs swaggered into view, as if hoping the Taino would push them into a fight. A young woman with a baby strapped to her back grabbed a ripe papaya out of the basket she was carrying and cocked her arm to fling it at the prince, but an older woman grabbed her elbow to stop her.
A whistle shrilled. As the Taino soldiers resumed formation, I crept away down a side street.
3
The victory drums heard from a distant ballcourt ceased as I hurried down dim streets too unimportant to warrant street lighting. The smoke of cook fires coated the air. Merchants and artisans were closing up shop. The last transport wagons and carts shared the roadways with people making their leisurely way home from work, the market, or the batey game. No volley of shots disturbed the night, so presumably the prince had moved on before trouble started.
