“We have to,” I say angrily. “There’re no other moves left. You want to head to the keep? Be my guest. You’ll find no one there. It’sempty.And I can’t go back with nothing, without an army. I can’t.”
“Where is everyone?” he asks. “Damn it, Catalina. What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’ve told you—”
His hand slashes the air. “No,no.Not everything. You haven’t said a word about my family,” he snaps. “You haven’t mentioned what happened to our people.”
I let out a sigh that could have been a sob. “They’ve accepted Princesa Tamaya as their queen.”
“Why?”he asks. “There has to be a reason. Not one Illustrian would give up everything we’ve worked for this past decade for nothing.”
“Theirreinasaid she wanted peace,” I snap. “That we’d be treated equal, that we’d have rights and a new life in La Ciudad Blanca. They believed her. The fools. As if we could ever agree with the Llacsans after what they’ve done to us. That girl is dreaming if she thinks she’ll achieve peace.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “When I lived among the various tribes in the Tierra Baja, I learned quite a bit about Llacsans. No, stop,” he says, holding up his hand. “Maybe some of them are different than Atoc? Aren’t you curious to know why our people would accept her as queen? Observe with your own eyes what others have seen?”
Something in me dies. Whatever I felt, whatever I yearned for in this moment—his smiles, to be seen by him as a girl and not just his queen—all of that vanishes like yesterday’s sunrise.
It’s another betrayal. I can’t look at him. Can’t speak to him anymore. Why am I the only one who still cares about what happened to us during the revolt? We lost family. We lost our homes. Our way of life. The throne. My parents were murdered.
“I’m going to find the Illari. With or without you.”
“Don’t do this to me,” Manuel whispers. “It’s been three years. I need to go home.”
“I know you do.” I look away. “So go.”
“You’re still not listening to me.” His hands reach toward me as if he wants to shake me. “It will mean your death.”
I’m supposed to die here anyway. But I don’t say the words out loud. “I have nothing and no one left, Manuel.”
“Let me take you—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I say, my voice cold and frozen over as if I were made of solid ice. “Do not.”
“My mother isn’t one to suffer fools,” he says gently. “She may have seen this as the best way forward—”
I slap my palms on the ground. “Your mother is dead!”
My words ricochet off the walls, clamoring in my head, ringing in my ears.
His face goes deadly white. “No.”
“Ana and Sofía both died at the hands of Atoc,” I say. “Do you still want to accept Atoc’s sister as your queen? If you do, then I guess I never knew you at all. Your mother would be ashamed, Manuel. Ashamed. Do you want to know how she died? She was executed while Ximenastood by and watched.” I pause. “Don’t tell meyou’reready to quit.”
He flinches at my words, at my tone.
There are tears running down my face. I’ve hurt him. I’ve hurt us both. He stands, head ducked to keep from bumping into the cave ceiling, and marches farther into the dark until he’s out of sight.
I don’t know how long I sit without him. The rain hasn’t stopped; neither has the roaring thunder. In the distance I catch sight of the flock of vultures, feasting on death. My back is sore and tired from not having anything to lean on, but the idea of pressing my wounds against the cool rock is not appealing.
I turn my head and gaze into the darkness where Manuel went. I never should have told him about his family that way. Impatient and frustrated beyond belief. Back at the Illustrian keep, when I was just the personal maid to Ximena’s condesa act, I helped soothe tempers, and tried my best to care for each family under my supervision. I was everyone’s friend, the person they came to when approaching Ximena was unthinkable.
I should have spoken to him gently, but he was starting to sound likeher.
I’m tired of being the only one holding on to the Illustrian dream of reclaiming La Ciudad Blanca for ourselves. I want him to feel the same hurt I felt. I want him to remember what we’ve been fighting for. But more than anything I want to remember who I am: the condesa. Ruler of Inkasisa. I am the best answer to who will protect the Illustrians who survived the revolt.
Footsteps sound in the dark and draw closer. I stiffen, bracing myself. If he insists on leaving the jungle, I won’t fight him. But I’m going to stay and try to reach the Illari. I will not go home empty and without a plan.
I will not.
