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Between one breath and the next, the lively rattle of conversation ceased. The courtyard fell silent. I had my back to the gate. As Uncle Joe turned with the full pitcher, glancing past me, his gaze widened. He reached under the counter and set his machete next to my tray.
He had done the same in my dream, only my sword was looped to a cord around my hips. The blade of his machete caught a glimmer of gaslight that carved a shimmering line along its length.
I swung around.
Prince Caonabo stood in the open gate, surrounded by attendants and soldiers.
Just as he had in my dream.
2
All eyes—and it was crowded tonight—shifted from the newcomers to me, and back to the prince’s retinue. Aunty Djeneba had been cooking cassava bread on a griddle in the open-air kitchen. She stepped back from the hearth to examine the interlopers. As the thin bread began to crisp, I could not rip my gaze from its blackening edges. The smell of its burning seemed to come right out of the dream I’d had, the way fire had caught in my flesh. Had Prince Caonabo come to kill me?
Was this what it meant to walk the dreams of dragons? Had I dreamed the dream meant for Bee because we were holding hands as we napped and her dreams had bled into mine? Or had I simply been waiting for this meeting, knowing the Taino would not let the death of their queen pass without a response?
Aunty realized the bread was burning, flipped the flat round onto the dirt, and gestured for one of her granddaughters to take over. After wiping her hands on her apron, she walked to the gate. She looked majestic with her hair covered in a vividly orange head wrap. Her height, stout build, and confident manner made her a formidable presence.
“Prince Caonabo,” she said, not that she had ever met him before, but there could only be one Taino prince in the city of Expedition. “To see one such as yee here at me gate is truly unexpected.”
One of the prince’s attendants answered in his stead, for like any lofty nobleman, Caonabo did not need to speak for himself. “His Good Highness has come to this establishment to find a witch.”
Most of our customers looked at me. I dressed in the local style so as not to draw attention to myself, but the days when I could hope to be just another maku girl making a living after being washed ashore in Expedition were irrevocably over.
Aunty stiffened. “We shelter no witch in me respectable house, nor have we ever, I shall thank yee to know. Nor need we answer to the prince, however good and high as he may be. Expedition remain a free territory. Yee Taino don’ rule us.”
The attendant blew a sharp whistle. Taino soldiers swarmed into the courtyard from the street, rifles and ceremonial spears at the ready, but the prince raised a hand to forestall any action.
“This afternoon I have spoken to the provisional Assembly,” the prince said with the precision of an intelligent man who has learned through countless hours of intense study to speak a language foreign to him. “We have completed our discussions and renewed the treaty between the Taino kingdom and Expedition Territory. One matter remains before I can leave Expedition.”
“What matter might that be, that yee trouble us while we partake of food and drink?”
Aunty still held the paddle she used on the cassava bread, and she had the stance of a woman ready to smack him with it right on his proud, highborn face if he didn’t give her a polite answer.
His attendants looked comically startled that a common Expeditioner would speak to a noble prince in such a bold and disrespectful manner, but Prince Caonabo himself appeared neither offended nor taken aback. He seemed like a man who knew his place in the world but didn’t need you to know it because it didn’t matter if you did. And it didn’t matter. In this part of the world, in the Sea of Antilles, he was among the most powerful men alive.
“Catherine Bell Barahal has been accused in the council hall of Expedition of being responsible for the death of the honorable and most wise cacica, what you call a queen, she with the name Anacaona. As Queen Anacaona’s only surviving son, and as heir to her brother, the cacique, I am required to pursue justice in this matter.”
Because it would be cowardly not to acknowledge him, I met his gaze with my own.
“I would like to know who made that accusation,” I said.
“I made the accusation.”
Customers got up and, with awkward goodbyes, hurried out the gate.
Uncle Joe muttered under his breath, “Cat, step back here behind the counter. Then yee can make a run out the back.”
“No,” I whispered. “I’ll bring no trouble down on you after everything you’ve done for me. But please send one of the lads out to make sure Rory does not come back here until the prince is gone. Send him to Kofi’s house.”
I took in a breath to fortify myself, grabbed a dram of rum, caught Uncle Joe’s warning gesture, and set down the rum without drinking. I drained a cup of guava juice instead, for my mouth had gone quite dry. Then I walked to the gate to face my accuser.
“Salve, Your Highness,” I said respectfully. I wasn’t sure what to make of Prince Caonabo. Despite his accusation, he did not glare at me in a hostile way. Instead, he acknowledged me with a lift of the hand.
“Salve, Perdita,” he answered, calling me lost woman. That was the name I had been given on the day three months ago when he and other fire mages had discovered me washed up and half-drowned on the shore of Salt Island, a quarantine island I should never have set foot on and hoped never to see again. “You recovered your sword.”
“So I did.” To all other eyes, my sword appeared as a black cane, but fire mages and the feathered people we called trolls saw it for what it was: a blade of magically forged steel. At night I could draw the blade out of the spirit world, but during the day it was just a cane unless woken by cold magic. “Your Highness, Expedition is a free territory. It is not ruled by the Taino, nor by Taino law.”
“Expedition Territory exists as a free territory within the Taino kingdom only because the captains of the first fleet that arrived here from Africa and Europa sealed a treaty with my ancestors. One of the conditions written into the First Treaty was the establishment of quarantine islands against the diseases brought across the ocean. Another condition was the right of accusation. Should a person residing in Expedition Territory commit a criminal act against any Taino, the Taino have the right to demand justice. As the accuser, I am allowed to take you into my custody and deliver you to Expedition’s Council Hall. There you will be taken before a standing inquiry on the charge of murder.”
