How much time do I have left before Luna disappears?
Slowly, I stand, careful not to make any noise, but then my gaze snags on Manuel, dread blooming deep in the corner of my heart. For a second I can’t move. The memory of his mouth against mine makes my blood feverish. Tonight was a mistake. I know what my duty is, but my heart refuses to cooperate. I need to give Manuel up, to let him go so that we can both move on. What kind of condesa will I be if I can’t make sacrifices?
I have to end this for good.
Moonlight sweeps into the room, and I blink at the sudden light. I turn toward the window, frantic. Please, por favor, let it not be close to morning. My steps are soft as I peer outside, tipping my head back. The stars glint and shimmer against the inky night, freckles on a beautiful goddess. They move, slow and deliberate, nearly fading from view.
There’s barely enough time.
There’s a soft groan behind me and I spin around. Manuel sits up, wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Go back to sleep.” I fight to keep my voice cool and composed. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
When I turn to look for my telescope, he reaches out and grabs my wrist. “Where are you going?”
“There’s something I must do.”
He swings his feet toward the ground. “Let me get my boots.”
“Manuel,” I say firmly. “I won’t go far. Just outside the door, I promise. You need to rest.”
He half groans, half yawns. “If you’re not back in ten minutes, I’m coming to get you.”
“Ten minutes. All right.” But by the time I lace up my sandals, he’s not only fallen back to sleep, his snores fill up the quiet room. I grab my dented telescope and pull open the door. The night is warm and scented by the surrounding oak trees. I walk along the path, searching for the best place to sit so I can work. I find an area close to my temporary home where nothing blocks the stars.
Normally I would clear my mind and only think of Luna, but this time I kneel onto the soft ground and say a prayer to Pachamama, too. I honor her commitment to providing food and shelter. I praise her creation, beautiful as it is dangerous and wild. My fingers dig into the ground, touching the velvety soil, tickling the grass. Peace settles deep into my soul, into my bones. I lift my dented bronze telescope and tilt my head back.
The stars shift and align to create perfect shapes. The image of the young boy returns. He’s older now, his expression meaner, his lips curling in a snarl. He’s been ostracized from his tribe, hunting alone and angry. He has no care for where he steps, angrily overturning rocks, butting his walking stick against tree trunks, scaring small rodents. For all his rage, I sense the despairing sadness clutching at his edges. And then the conversation shifts, the letters rearranging to paint a different picture. Paititi comes into focus, but it’s tainted. A dark smudge on an otherwise bright landscape. And then the image of the boy returns, but now he’s much older.
And he’s still angry.
Luna wants me to see him this clearly for a reason. I narrow my gaze and think as the constellation shifts again. It takes me a moment to understand her message.
The telescope slips from my fingers. I know why the jungle is dying.
Quickly, I pick up the scope, hoping to confirm what I’ve seen, because I can’t afford to be wrong. Every time one of my predications hasn’t come true, the burning shame I felt nearly overwhelmed me. Oh, no one ever got mad, they understood, but I sensed their disappointment anyway. Ana and her children, but more important, Ximena.
I press the scope to my eye, but the sky has turned lighter, the stars growing fainter and fainter. I slap the ground and yell out a curse. I’m too late. I didn’t see—but what does it matter? I know enough to warn everyone.
I jump to my feet as the early-morning light streaks through the sky, the sun following close behind. The cobblestones on the path glint golden as I race back to my building. From a distance, Manuel opens the door then shuts it behind him.
“Manuel!” I cry.
His face snaps to mine. When he sees me running, he reaches into his boots, pulls out a dagger, and races toward me.
“The flower is in Paititi,” I say, coming to such an abrupt stop, I almost topple over. He holds out a firm hand to steady me. “It’s inside the city; someone brought it in. But I don’t know if it was a mistake. I just know it’sheresomewhere. But morning came before I could discoverwhereit is—”
Manuel tucks his knife into its sheath. “Slow down.” He guides me back onto the path, tucking my arm in his, and we quickly walk toward the heart of the village. “Start from the beginning.”
I take a deep breath. “Luna showed me the flower was brought into the city. I think it might’ve been a merchant, but I dropped the telescope before getting the whole picture. I’ve got to tell Sonco what I saw. The fiesta is today.”
Manuel looks around, and I do the same, finally noticing that Paititi is awake and bustling. Farmers gather food, cooks prepare meals, and everyone else helps set up the temple in preparation for dancing and playing music. Manuel and I take a flight of stairs that leads to another level of buildings. This looks like the residential district, with many doors open to allow the breeze to drift inside. Beyond the rows and rows of houses are more stairs.
“Do you know where Sonco might be?” I ask between panting breaths. These steps are accursedly tall.
“I assume the temple.” He doesn’t sound winded at all.
We climb up and up, my breath raspy and legs trembling, until at last the temple looms ahead. It’s an austere square building with gold pillars flanking the entrance. I step inside the well-lit corridor, and despite the urgency of the message, I slow down.
