Dinner is waiting for me when I get to my room, but not even the sight of crispy pan-fried papas and the garlic-rubbed sirloin roast tempts me to take a bite. Princesa Tamaya wants to destroy the Estrella. I want to reject the idea outright. Having that kind of power offers what can’t be bought: control.
But it never occurred to me that we could win the war against Atoc without fighting a bloody battle. It never occurred to me that we could get to the other side with our consciences unblemished and families intact. Unleashing the Estrella on Atoc and his army, his court, his followers makes us no better than him. Does the princesa have a point?
And now that I know the Estrella’s location, what am I going to do about it? It won’t take but an evening to weave the information and send it to the condesa. But that idea doesn’t sit well—for a reason I’m afraid to think about.
Suyana comes to collect the dirty dishes. She takes one look at the plate and frowns. “You didn’t eat all of your food. Don’t tell me you’re sick again?”
I pull off my socks. “I think I’m just nervous. Don’t call for the healer. It’s only worry and stress.”
She nods as she wipes down the dresser. I expect her to pry, but all she says is: “A bath will help.”
Once again, she surprises me. Instead of questions, she offers comfort. I appreciate the gesture, even if the bathwater usually arrives cold. When I say so, Suyana only smiles and carries out the tray. Later there’s a knock and the water is delivered. My fingers nearly turn to ice when I touch it. The water might have come from the snowcapped mountain.
Then Suyana is at my elbow. “How hot do you like it?”
“Caliente,” I say. “Thank you, though.”
She smiles again and dips both hands into the water. Nothing happens. Her hands are submerged but not a single bubble appears.
“It’s all right—”
“Now touch it,” she says, her voice shaking a little. “See if it’s better.”
Carefully, I dip my index finger into the tub. I pull away with a sharp hiss. “It’s hot!” Her face wears a pronounced grimace. “Suyana, I—Suyana? Are you all right? You look a little pale. Do you need to sit?”
She sinks onto the bed. “Sorry, it makes me weary.”
“What does? Your magic?” I ask. “Do you always feel that way?”
She nods and points at the little bundle she’d brought with her. Inside is a towel and a bar of soap. “You should enjoy the bath while it lasts. I won’t be able to heat it a second time.”
I hold the bar up to my nose. Eucalyptus. I peel off my clothes and climb in, moaning in delight. My first hot bath in four weeks. Divine. A twinge of guilt mars my enjoyment. The Llacsans living in La Ciudad barely have any water.
“What did you think of the princesa?” Suyana asks.
I scrub my toes. “I liked her better than I thought I would.”
“I think most like her better than the king.”
I keep my expression neutral. “Do you?”
“It’s hard not to like the princesa. She’s vibrant and full of life. Consistently optimistic. She remembers everyone’s names. And I always liked how she asked about my mother. I was sad the day King Atoc locked the princesa up. Sad, but not surprised.” Suyana folds one of the towels. “She fought with the king over everything. His decisions, legislation. When she tried to talk him out of marrying you, he’d had enough, I think. It was the biggest fight they had, and it happened during court.”
“I see,” I say, accidentally dropping the soap. This cements what I thought: If she’d been queen instead of her brother, Inkasisa would have been all the better for it. “Did she have any friends in the castillo?”
“She has that way of making everyone feel like a friend,” she says. “But she’s particularly close to Rumi.”
“I think he’s in love with her.”
She frowns. “You think? But he’s so—”
“Smelly, I know!” I sit up in the tub. “What is that stench hovering around him like an angry swarm of bees?”
“He works in the infirmary,” Suyana says, giggling. “All manner of herbs and mushrooms are stored there. We’ve all tried to tell him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Of course not,” I mutter darkly. “Rumi’s accustomed to it. He’s so odd. And the way he acts during court! As if Atoc bled rainbows.”
“King Atoc,” she corrects. “Rumi’s always doted on His Radiance. We’re all used to it.”
I lift an eyebrow.
“Mostly used to it,” she admits. “Some days he’s more ridiculous than others. Half the time I want to tell him to quit slouching.”
Laughing, I sink back into the tub.
Suyana stands. “Is there anything else you need for the night?”
“This was plenty. Gracias.”
“I hope whatever is bothering you leaves you alone enough for a good night’s rest.”
It’s only after she leaves that I realize the extent of what just happened. I enjoyed a hot bath because of her. At the expense of her own energy, too.
I’d made a friend without trying. Without manipulating or forcing it into existence.
I stay awake until midnight, unable to keep thoughts of Catalina and her reign from jumbling inside my head. The lizard is curled up on its favorite spot on the pillow, nestling close to my head. Both the jaguar and condor rest by the balcony doors. The llama has somehow managed to squish himself into the wool basket. The frogs never seem to stay still, constantly hopping from the bed, to the chair, and onto the dresser.
I’ve never had a pet before. And these odd, colorful creatures belong to me.
They slowly drift to sleep, lulled by the whistling wind fluttering the curtains, the stray dogs barking in the night. The lizard climbs onto my chest as by candlelight I read the book Rumi lent me. It’s not just a history of the Llacsans, but of the Illari and hundreds of other small tribes in the Lowlands. Inkasisa is home to thousands of indigenous people, and Illustrians came in four hundred years earlier and turned everything on its head.
Before us, they’d built fortresses and roads, had armies and used the stars to navigate.
The stars. We claimed the stars for our own.
I close the book, a sense of dread flooding my body. I can’t think of a single recent building designed and built by any of the tribes. When’s the last time they created the things they’d been famous for? We stifled, buried, and stomped on them as if they were hormigas.
I settle into the pillow, my eyelids heavy. I want to stay awake, but sleep comes unbidden and unwanted.
The next time I wake up, I’m not alone.
I sit up with a jerk. That prickly feeling of unease courses through my veins like blood.
“You’re a light sleeper,” says a familiar voice from the corner of the room.
My eyes settle on the chair and the dark bulk sitting in it. I blink, waiting impatiently for my eyes to adjust. “Obviously not if you were able to get in here without me detecting you.”
“You know, I actually felt bad about waking you,” he says, faintly amused. “Clearly my chivalry was misplaced.”
“Who ever said you were chivalrous?”
“Now you’re just being mean.”
My eyes finally adjust to the dark. A quick scan of the room reveals that my animals are deep in hiding. Probably underneath the bed or in their tapestries. I squint at the corner of the room where my chair is propped against the wall. El Lobo’s slouched, his long legs stretched in front of him, his ankles crossed. His hands are folded behind his head.
“Did you fall asleep in here?” I ask, suspicious.
“For a little while,” he admits. The mask obscures the smile on his face, but I hear it anyway.
“Long day working? I forget—you tend the gardens, right?”
He laughs softly. “Nice try.”
“Maybe you spent too much time near the stove?” I press.
“You wouldn’t want me near a stove.”
Again, I hear the smile in his voice, hovering in the air like a glittering star. Not a cook, then.
“Perhaps you had a hard day training?” I ask. “Right, Juan Carlos?”
El Lobo startles, as if I’d prodded him with a stick. He shakes his head, chuckling. “I’m afraid I don’t know who that is.”
My intuition spikes like a fever. He isn’t telling me the truth. Maybe he isn’t Juan Carlos? Or maybe he’s just trying to throw me off? Maybe he’s a gardener or a cook?
“Why are you here?”
“You visited the princesa today,” he says, all traces of laughter gone. “I thought perhaps there might be a message.”
I curl the sheet higher until it’s tickling the bottom of my jaw. “How do you know? You weren’t there.”
Or were you, Rumi?
“The outcome of your competition spread throughout the castillo. It wouldn’t surprise me if half of Inkasisa knows of your defeat. How does it feel to lose to a Llacsan?”
“Strangely, I don’t mind.” I don’t need to be the best at weaving. It’s enough to know how to make something beautiful.
Which is not the answer he’s expecting. He blinks long and slow and it seems vaguely familiar. That minute tilt of his head. The color of his eyes. Every interaction shows me a glimpse of the boy who sometimes surfaces beneath his black mask, like how he made sure I had a sword to defend myself, or when he tried to help me when I fought the priest’s men. If I support Princesa Tamaya, we may even become friends.
What a terrible friend I’d make. If I can’t find the Estrella, I’ll have to betray him.
“What do you think of her?”
I stand up and march to the dresser. The night air gives me goose bumps. As I pull a long-sleeved tunic over my head, I watch El Lobo. His gaze centers on my every move. I settle back onto the bed and snuggle under the sheets. “I like her,” I say. “She’s different from what I’d pictured.”
“What did you picture?”
I make a face. “The female version of Atoc.”
“She’d scratch your eyes out for that.”
Yes, I’m sure she would. And I like that about her.
We sit in unguarded silence for a moment, and it feels companionable. Princesa Tamaya’s words infiltrate my mind: Should I tell him the Estrella’s location? He’s here because I’ve had access and he’s hoping there’s been a new development. He’s right: There is. But admitting it is a heavy decision. I need more information.
“Tell me something, Lobo,” I say. “What would you do with the Estrella if you had it?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “I’d destroy it.”
Somehow I knew he’d say that. “Why?”
“The Estrella is a power that doesn’t belong in the hands of mortal men—Illustrian, Llacsan, people of Tierra Baja, or even the mythical Illari hiding in the Yanu Jungle. No one should have it. Now it’s your turn.” He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Why did you ask me that question?”
“Because the princesa wants to destroy it, and I wanted to know what you thought.”
I’ve surprised him. He stands and paces the room—something I’ve seen the princesa do. “She’s shared one of our secrets with you. ¿Por qué?”
“I think she wants to convince me she’d make the better queen.”
“What do you think?”
I shrug. “No lo sé.”
“How were you planning on removing Atoc from the throne?”
I shrug again. Just because I know of their plans doesn’t mean I have to tell him everything. I may be confused, I may like Tamaya, but I’m not ready to betray Catalina.
“You were planning on using the Estrella,” he says. “You’ve been searching for it this entire time. You’d do the same thing Atoc did all those years ago.” He slices the air with his hand, his voice this side of angry. “We have a better plan, Condesa. After destroying the Estrella, we’ll rip the throne out of Atoc’s hands in a bloodless revolt and crown Princesa Tamaya queen in his place.”
Bloodless revolt. Is such a thing possible? Guilt riddles me as I think about it—of what it would mean to turn my back on my upbringing, my duty. But I can’t deny how tired I am of war, war, war.
“How are you going to lead a bloodless revolt with Princesa Tamaya locked up?”
His mask ripples as he smiles. “King Atoc has more enemies than friends, Condesa.”
“Fine. Keep your secrets.” I push away the sheet and climb out of bed again. “Here’s one of mine: I know where the Estrella is. If you can convince me your plan is better, I’ll consider telling you.”
El Lobo sweeps me forcibly against him. Disbelief shoots through me as I let out a low yelp. He doubles my wrist behind my back with a sharp twist, and I wince from the pressure. “I can force you to tell me.”
I slam my heel down on his foot and attempt to knee his groin, but he wrenches my wrist again and I gasp. The jaguar pokes its head out from underneath my bed and bares its teeth, silent and deadly. I shake my head, urging it to remain hidden. I don’t want the vigilante to know all my secrets. I don’t want him anywhere near my animals.
His whisper caresses my cheek. “You don’t think I will?”
I tilt my head and glare up at him. My breath catches at the back of my throat. The narrow slits in his mask provide enough of a gap to make out his dark eyes. His stare betrays nothing—no flickers of guilt, or indecision. He’s sure of what lines he’ll cross. Harming me isn’t one of them. “No.”
The grip on my wrist eases somewhat, and I exhale. The man in black holds on to me, but it no longer hurts. Awareness creeps in. The hard feel of his arms around me. The incessant croaking of frogs in the garden. Luna’s moonbeams crisscrossing the room. A breeze rustles the curtains. His black cotton shirt tickles my chin.
We’re standing very close. The air between is charged with tension. El Lobo notices it at the same moment I do. He slowly drags his hand down the length of my arm, and then up again. A shiver dances along the length of my spine and a warm glow softens his gaze.
For the hundredth time, I wonder who he is. I’ve met the vigilante, I’m sure of it. Rumi or Juan Carlos. I know it in my bones. And I wonder if it’s who I want him to be.
The thought comes unbidden and I’m not prepared to name what I feel. It’s too new, too confusing. Too forbidden.
“Tell me where it is,” he says hoarsely.
My voice comes out even. “No.”
His attention shifts to my mouth. “You’re a menace,” he says softly.
His head tilts toward mine and the sudden flare of heat that rises between us startles me. I’m frozen, unsure. “What are you doing?” I whisper.
He pauses. His breath tickles my nose. “Damned if I know,” he mutters. “All sense disappears when you’re near.”
I place a hand on his chest to stop his advance. Confusion clouds my thinking, which is exactly why I can’t let him kiss me. If I don’t know how I feel about the vigilante, kissing him would only conjure feelings that aren’t supposed to exist. I don’t know who he is and until I do, nothing can happen. I shake my head slightly. What am I thinking? Even if I do find out, it won’t change anything. I have to betray him.
I will betray him.
“Why?” His voice is a whisper.
I search for a reason. Any of the hundred I have will do. “I might recognize you.”
He laughs. “Have you been kissing people?”
“No,” I admit. “But it could happen.”
Both hands drop to his sides. “Interesting. With who?”
This time I chuckle. The idea is laughable, and for a second I wonder if he’s jealous. I’ve never made anyone jealous. It’s a heady feeling and I’m suddenly out of my depth. Distracted from what I’m supposed to do. “That’s not something you should be thinking about, Lobo. All you have to worry about is convincing me your plan is better than mine.”
“I think I know a way to do that,” he says in a brisk tone. All traces of warmth and laughter gone. “I’ll come for you in three days. Get some rest, Condesa. You have dark circles under your eyes.”
I gasp. Not because I don’t think it’s true, but because he has the gall to point it out. His mask ripples again, another smile. He slinks onto the balcony and jumps over the railing, as if three stories high is nothing but a single step between him and the ground. I walk onto the balcony and peer down. He’s nowhere in sight.
Dawn approaches, the first victorious rays of sunlight streaking against the conquered night. I stare in the direction of the Illustrian keep. Catalina will still be sleeping this early in the day. With the wedding only days away, she’s anticipating me to send her another message.
And I’m no closer to figuring out what I’m going to do.