She stands next to me, her gaze on Luna. “Don’t you want to know her? Shewantsto know you. She’s been waiting for you.”
“What do you mean? I’ve been reaching for her mywholelife.”
“Because you don’t listen. You talk and talk, asking your questions, demanding answers. That’s not how to use Luna’s gifts. Her magic has no beginning or middle or end. You only want one part of the tale, when you need to listen for the whole story.”
I whirl around, my hands on my hips. I’m unable to keep the frustration out of my voice. “You don’t know anything about me! Who are you to say there’s something wrong with my magic?”
“But there is,” she says, confused. “It’s as clear to me as it is to you. Why not try to figure out what’s wrong? If you can prove to Sonco that your ability is proficient, then he might consider marriage.”
Confusion flares within me. She’s the one who first told Manuel about Sonco wanting a wife, and I don’t understand why she’d want her cousin to marry an outsider. “Why do you want me to marry your cousin?”
She tilts her head to the side, considering. “I have never left this jungle because I am the only seer in Paititi. Long trips are impossible, and yet I long for them.”
I look away. I can understand her yearning. Growing up the way I did, behind fortress walls, the outside world tantalized me, too.
“It will be better for Sonco to have another seer,” she says, a hint of defensiveness in her tone. “The more information he has, the better he can guard our city against the rest of the country.”
Her points make sense to me. Pressure builds in my chest. Everything hinges on my ability to develop my gift from Luna.
I fold my arms across my chest. Tears threaten to fall, but I don’t want to cry in front of her. Ever since I can remember, the stars have kept their meaning from me. Occasionally a word or two becomes clear, but it feels like Luna’s yelling at me, trying to get my attention, frustrated, somehow, that I keep missing something monumental in our communication. I barely remember the training I had as a little girl. My Great-Aunt Pastora only talked of the special relationship between the goddess and her children. It sounded like heaven to me—it still does. To a little girl who’d lost her own mother, the idea of a celestial parent looking out for me was the balm I needed.
Here’s what I do remember: Always say a prayer before gazing upward; never come to Luna with a full head; quiet your breathing; be still; patience and dedication will do the rest.
My early education may have had gaps, but that doesn’t mean what I learned at my great-aunt’s knee was incorrect.
“Why do you think there’s something wrong? I might be having a rough week.” A roughseason, more like.
“Because she told me,” Chaska says.
I freeze, unable to breathe. My mind still can’t fathom Luna blessing the Illari. Back in La Ciudad, the Llacsans worship only Inti and Pachamama. They have no love for my goddess, and I have no love for theirs. Both of them. Because the Illari were the original inhabitants of Inkasisa, I assumed the Llacsans had followed in their footsteps.
My lips are wooden, but somehow the words escape. “That can’t be true.”
“That’s very rude,” Chaska says sternly. “We have taken you in, clothed and fed you. My cousin has offered you a home when you have none. And you call me a liar?”
I flush and meet her gaze. “This is very hard for me to accept.”
She tilts her head again. “What’s hard about it?”
“Because—because I thought Luna only belonged to us! She’s our goddess, our life. We have been blessed by her, and I didn’t know—didn’t think—she could love …” I trail off.
“Who? Other humans?” Her voice rises and it feels like a battering ram against my chest. “Howarrogantof you. Why on earth would you think that you and your people have all of the goddess’s attention and love?”
I splay my hands. “It’s what I was taught. I don’t know why only we heard from Luna, but that’s been the way of it for decades. And the Llacsans didn’t love the moon, worshiping only the sun and the earth. That was my normal.”
“Who trained you?” she demands.
My voice wobbles. “An Illustrian seer. My Great-Aunt Pastora. She only taught me to communicate with Luna. But then the revolt happened, and she died in the earthquake. They all did. There was no one left, and so I had to somehow figure it out on my own. This blessing from Luna.”
A blessing that feels like a curse.I can’t say those words out loud, not while standing in front of her likeness. It feels disloyal, somehow.
Chaska’s demeanor softens. “You carry a great weight, do you not?”
I nod, this time allowing the tears to fall. “I’ve let everyone down. I still am, I think.”
“Then shouldn’t you have an open mind? You owe it to your people to fulfill the gift Luna has given you. With respect to your great-aunt, she did you a disservice. Have all Illustrian seers been this irresponsible? A rare ability like yours ought not to be wasted. Especially out of ignorance.”
I step forward and let my index finger graze the starry wall. For years all I’ve wanted was to be known by Luna—to understand her so I could share her celestial knowledge with my people. When I turn to face Chaska, my shoulders are straight, my chin high.
