There’s a roaring in my ears. All I can think about is having an army to reclaim La Ciudad Blanca, my birthright. “And you’d really propose?”
Sonco shrugs, his voice light. “I might.”
CAPÍTULO
Veintiséis
The people of Paititi know how to live. The hours seem slow, and daily chores are finished by midmorning, followed by a long midday meal with their families. Children attend lessons in a group with experts in their fields, learning to weave and dye wool, and then in the late afternoon they train. All children are taught how to defend themselves with knives and arrows, axes and spears. Some of the children run around practicing shooting with their blow darts, nailing cockroaches scrambling across the dirt.
It’s only later that I learn the darts are coated in poison.
The day is sunny and warm, the air scented by the sweep of immense trees surrounding the base of the mountain. People are friendly, if a little wary, so I smile at every person who looks over at Sonco and me strolling on the paths, as if there weren’t a greater danger surrounding us. As if Manuel weren’t risking his life trying to help the Illari.
Sonco and I walk through the market at a leisurely pace, and I admire the pretty beaded jewelry and woven mantillas. Several people are weaving long banners, and Sonco tells me they will be used as decorations for the fiesta. There’s a stall filled with sandals, and a pair catches my eye. I haven’t had new shoes in a long time, only the borrowed sandals and my worn leather boots. Ana said they were practical. But I adore pretty things, and the shoes people wear in Paititi are delicate and strappy, not meant for combat.
“You like these?” Sonco holds up the ones I’m staring at. The leather is a warm amber hue, with pom-pom detailing near the ankle. When I nod, he says, “You ought to have them.”
I grimace. “I haven’t any money—haven’t had any in a long time, actually.”
He looks at the vendor and asks in Quechua, “What will you have in exchange for these?”
The man is older, with heavily creased skin and graying hair. “You may have them free of charge.”
Sonco smiles. “That’s kind but unnecessary.” He starts to remove the leather belt from around his waist, but the seller stops him.
“I insist.”
The Illari leader inclines his head then presents me with the shoes, the vendor grinning. An uncomfortable flutter sweeps through my body, like the scattering of leaves rustling against a stone floor. My time with Sonco has been surprisingly pleasant. If I somehow end up married to him, perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing.
“Would you like to try them on?” Sonco asks, effectively jarring me from my thoughts.
“Oh yes, of course.” I walk over to a stone bench, kick off the borrowed sandals, and try on my new ones.
“Better?” Sonco asks.
“So much,” I say.
“Well, Idohave things to take care of today.” His brow furrows. “But it would’ve been rude to leave without seeing you settled.”
I shade my eyes from the sun’s fierce glare. “Leave?”
“I’m going with a few others to collect the remains of those who didn’t make it back from the last mission.” His voice drops to a hush. “If there are any, at least.”
“But isn’t it much too dangerous to leave the safety of Paititi?” I’m surprised to hear myself asking about his welfare. “What if something were to happen to you?”
“To lead is to serve my people. I won’t ask them to do something I wouldn’t do myself. My position doesn’t change the fact that Paititi is my home too. I will defend her with my breath and body and not hide behind walls.”
Which is exactly what I’ve done all of my life. I’ve asked people to do things I wouldn’t orcouldn’tdo myself. I even had someone pretending to be me in order to keep me safe. Shame burns the whole way down to my belly. I try not to think of Manuel, try not to imagine his body broken and bleeding somewhere in the jungle. “How many have died so far?”
He considers my question. “Your guard left with the group, did he not?”
I nod.
Sonco rearranges his face into a neutral expression, betraying nothing, but I don’t believe the sudden light tone he’s striving for. “Why don’t you enjoy the city? Someone will come around and invite you to dinner, I’m sure.” He turns to leave, but pauses. His voice drops to a shy whisper, and there’s a warm glint in his serious eyes. “I enjoyed our time together.”
Then he walks off and I’m left wondering about that bashful quality in his voice. I would have preferred not to have heard it at all, preferred to keep things uncomplicated. I’d wanted to know exactly how much danger we were in.
But the answer to how many people have died at the hands of the Illari’s nemesis remains a mystery.
