Part 1
Chapter
1
The Great Star was fading.
Most of the palace slumbered, enjoying a respite from the daily routines that secured the favor of the gods. Prince Ahkin, however, splayed his hands across the surface of a carved stone table with a heavy sigh. Charts of star movements and accompanying religious texts lay strewn before him, detailing the knowledge the Chicome people had collected since the time of the Second Sun. Muted light from the moon, forever jealous of its glorious brother, filtered in through the palace window along with the stifling humidity of the jungle beyond.
He slammed his fist against the table. Why were the heavens being so secretive tonight? His calculations were accurate; he had repeated them several times just to be sure. The Seventh Sun had set much earlier than it should have last night. And just after the first stars had blinked awake, a comet appeared in the heavens. A comet the color of blood. If the gods painted their warnings in the skies, then what were they trying to tell him? There must be an answer.
“M-m-my lord?” came a tremulous voice from behind him.
“What is it?” The prince refused to lift his gaze from his calculations. The servants usually knew better than to disturb him so late into the night.
Shuffling footsteps grew louder. “I am so sorry to interrupt, but you are needed to … to … raise the sun.”
A stone seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach. The sun was not his responsibility—not yet.
He whirled to face a familiar middle-aged man dressed in traditional white cotton cloak and loincloth. Olli. White feathers crowned the top of his head—a symbol of his status as one of his father’s most loyal servants. Olli’s face gave the impression he had seen a spirit wandering in the land of the living. The hair on the back of Ahkin’s neck rose.
Ahkin’s eyes narrowed. “Why is my father unable to perform the ritual?”
“Emperor Acatl has begun his journey through the underworld.” Olli dropped his chin to his chest.
Ahkin lunged from the table and grabbed the servant’s shoulder, a sound like rushing water filling his ears.
“Coatl. Summon Coatl. What are you waiting for?” The command poured from his lips with the power and authority of the emperor—which he realized, with a start, was a title that might actually belong to him now.
“We summoned the healer immediately, but it was too late. Your father is gone, my lord.”
The prince stumbled back. Folding his hands behind his head, he paced in a small circle, urgency racing through his veins along with the blood of the god of the sun.
“When? How?”
“We do not know how. Your mother discovered his body when she awoke.” The wretched servant held his hands over his face.
Air rushed from Ahkin’s lungs as if he’d taken a blow to the stomach. If his father was gone, then that meant …
“And my mother?”
“She is preparing to fulfill her duty to the emperor as we speak.”
“No …”
“My lord, there is nothing you can do. The codex stipulates that she must take her life so that she may accompany your father on his journey. If she does not, she will dishonor the emperor and the gods themselves.”
Ahkin ignored him and sprinted from the room. The Eagle warriors standing guard outside of his room called after him in concern.
Shadows of night still clung to the dark hallways of the palace. He removed the obsidian dagger from his waistband and sliced the blade across his thumb. The moment the blood of the sun god oozed through the cut, the power of his ancestor coursed through him. He threw out his hand, calling every trace of light from the palace torches, even the reflected rays of the moon itself. The light obeyed his command, pouring into the hall and illuminating the path ahead.
His heart threw itself against his ribcage, almost as if it could escape and run the distance faster on its own. The wailing of servants filled his ears as he passed one of their residential halls. Though many emperors before had been ruthless and cruel in their reigns, his father had been as well-loved as he was respected. Several servants fell to their knees and prostrated themselves before him as he passed. He traded the anguish rising up inside him for numb disbelief. He didn’t have time to feel. He had to get to her before it was too late.
Ahkin rounded the corner into the emperor’s chambers. The light that had followed the calling of his blood flooded into the room behind him, but it did little to ease the dark shadow that seemed to hang over the room like an otherworldly presence.
The empress of the Chicome stood before a small group of Tlana priests, her yellow-and-gold robe glittering in his summoned light. Ahkin took in the body of his father, unmarked and peaceful, resting upon the bed mat as though he were sleeping. Even in death, his father’s lightly lined face seemed far too young. Had something internal been plaguing him without their knowledge? Had the gods simply decided it was his time and taken him? Only the healer would be able to answer those questions, and Ahkin would ensure he did. The image didn’t seem real, as though his father would sit up at any moment and greet them with a beaming smile. But if what the servant said was true …
Had the signs in the heavens been a warning?
His mother’s coal-dark eyes found his own, and he swallowed hard. “Mother …” But Ahkin couldn’t think what to say. He couldn’t ask her to stop, especially given the pointed stares of the priests surrounding her like spirits waiting to escort her to the depths of Xibalba. He clenched his teeth, restraining the beast within him that longed to fly across the room and pry the obsidian dagger from his mother’s fingers. This was not right, no matter what the codex demanded.
“My lord prince.” One of the priests stepped forward, the many beads and ornaments hanging around his neck rattling like bones. “The blood of Huitzilopochtli must be shown the respect it deserves. It is not to be summoned merely in lieu of finding a torch to light a hallway.”
Condescension dripped from the priest’s tone and crawled underneath Ahkin’s skin, but he bit his tongue and returned his attention to his mother.
“You can’t leave me. I need you. The Great Star is fading and …”
The empress swept forward, a ray of sunlight penetrating the gloom. She placed a hand against his cheek. His throat tightened in response. No matter what had happened in his life, she had always been that continual source of comfort, a steadfast presence that never wavered.
“You will be fine without me, dear boy. You are the emperor now, and you will not be alone. It’s your turn to select a wife who can stand by your side, one who will fill your world with vibrancy and life and color. Someone to complete your duality.”
“It’s too soon. I’m not ready. There’s still so much I need to observe, to study, to learn …”