14
Damas del Vacío
The days in ?guila Manor without Do?a Laurel were the hardest. Silence reigned with an iron fist, as its inhabitants scurried from corridor to corridor performing their roles in the most inconspicuous way possible. There was no laughter, and in the nights, solace only came with darkness.
In her room, Reina festered with hatred. She grew angry at the lies of magic, for giving them hope when Do?a Laurel and Don Enrique had shared the amapola. Reina hated how much she had hurt to obtain this life, which for a sliver of an instant had been so perfect, only for it to be turned to ash before her eyes.
She had been wrong to believe in Ches, she decided. She had given him all her reverence, and when she’d needed him most, he’d been silent. Reina dug her fists hard into her eyes, squeezing out the tears. She’d been a fool to surrender pieces of her daily aliment, expecting his grace and protection in exchange. She should have known that with her monstrous heart, Ches had already forsaken her life. She should have followed in Do?a Ursulina’s steps—channeling her devotion to Rahmagut instead.
Most of all, Reina abhorred herself as the silence allowed her treasonous thoughts to take her back to the night, months ago, when she had guided Do?a Laurel to the iridio-ridden underground. To the moment when the iridio pulsating from Do?a Ursulina’s ore had impaled Do?a Laurel—for she had surely been with child—setting in motion their premature end.
Thus, Reina descended to her grandmother’s laboratory with purpose in her heart.
Do?a Ursulina lay on her chaise longue when Reina entered, a gloved hand draping her eyelids, but she wasn’t asleep.
“You said Rahmagut can grant reanimation,” Reina said as she shut the door behind her. There was no time for salutations or niceties. Either way, her grandmother abhorred them.
Do?a Ursulina watched her with an arched brow. “It is possible.”
“Don Enrique will want to bring Do?a Laurel back.”
“What about what you want?” Do?a Ursulina challenged.
Reina approached with her arms crossed. Her tail thrashed, and her pointed ears grew hot. The despicable thought crept back to her, like the grating of nails on a glass surface.
“I want… to know if it’s my fault. Was it because I exposed her to the iridio here?”
She could almost touch the memory, how the chill of that night had felt so meek while in Do?a Laurel’s company. Her grandmother’s silence grabbed Reina by the throat and stopped her from breathing. Anticipation ate her from the inside out, along with her self-hatred.
Do?a Ursulina’s gaze was hooded, regretful. “Yes.”
Reina’s lungs expelled a sob. Tears warmed the corners of her eyes.
“I told you what iridio does to expectant mothers. And we all paid the price.”
Reina leaned against one of the bookshelves for support. She swallowed thickly. “Why haven’t you punished me for it?” She deserved to be flayed and beaten.
A deep frown warped her grandmother’s features. “This is your punishment.” She nodded and added, “Knowing what you did.”
Reina clenched and unclenched her jaw. She wrung her hands at her sides as her mind whirred. Finally, she wiped away the tears. How could she ever face Celeste again while knowing she’d had a hand in Do?a Laurel’s death? And Don Enrique…
Reina looked to her grandmother, desperate to read her cloaked fa?ade. Would she keep her secret? Or would she bring her to Don Enrique for judgment?
Like she could read her desperation, Do?a Ursulina said, “It’s a truth you will bear, but you will not burden the ?guilas with it. You and I, we are here to serve.”
“Even if that means lying to them?”
“You will only worsen their lives by telling them. Instead, you should be thinking of how to set things right.”
Reina knew exactly what she needed to do, now more than ever.
Henceforth, every path she took would be guided by a single desire: To undo her impact on Do?a Laurel’s untimely end. To bring back Celeste’s happiness.
“Don Enrique visited me like you have.”
Reina held her breath.
“He’s a man with all the gold and power in the world, and now he wants what no mortal has ever had: the power to defy death itself. He wants his wife back.”
Reina’s chest palpitated to the point of discomfort. Do?a Laurel was a piece gone from the manor, which left them forever incomplete. There was no balance without her, no happiness.
Reina wanted this as well.
“Rahmagut is capable of resurrection,” Reina said, an answer she sought only for reassurance.
“And much more.”
“So how do we do it? How do we fulfill Rahmagut’s legend?”
Do?a Ursulina smirked with satisfaction. “You ought to be glad this is a puzzle I’ve been working tirelessly to solve, before it is too late.”
Reina was, and she nodded eagerly.
“I have all the pieces, barring one single detail: the reincarnated souls of Rahmagut’s nine wives.” Do?a Ursulina strolled to her table, her eyes circling the splayed star map. “I think I know a way we can get the answer.”
“How?” Reina stepped closer. She was vaguely reminded of how months ago she would have flinched and protested at the idea of revering Rahmagut. But her grandmother had been right all along. Never again was Reina going to question her.
“I told Don Enrique. He’s already bringing me the man who knows: a former member of the cult of Rahmagut, who now lives in Puerto Carcosa. He shall arrive in a few days. I will call for you when he does.”
Reina lifted her eyebrows. “There’s a cult of Rahmagut? Are we part of it?”
Do?a Ursulina’s eyes darkened. “No. They’re a family descended of the yares. Fanatics, so far lost in their made-up origin story they no longer separate truth from lies. Do not confuse them with us.”
The days Reina waited for her grandmother’s summons passed without acknowledgment. She performed one motion after another, still dodging Celeste for the guilt over her role in what had transpired. And finally, when a moonless night veiled ?guila Manor once again, Reina received the beckon.
The door of the laboratory was cracked slightly open as she descended to the underground. Reina paused outside, hearing the all-too-familiar voices of Don Enrique and her grandmother, along with a third person.
“Answer the caudillo. That is your only purpose here.”
The stranger spluttered and stuttered.
Do?a Ursulina said, “We know death is only a door, and we need the key to open it. It is not a matter of whether Rahmagut has it—we know he does—it is a matter of compelling him to lend it to us. We will parley with him. So tell us about the damas.”
Reina sucked in a breath and entered. Inside, the torches were dim, the air tasting stale and, faintly, of sweat and shit. A skinny robed man in shackles knelt between Do?a Ursulina and Don Enrique. Sweat dampened his clothes and hair, and his skin was scratched and bloody from a struggle. He wept with a deep, helpless sorrow when he saw Reina enter, identifying her as another indifferent conspirator.
Don Enrique regarded Reina with the coldness he’d donned since Do?a Laurel’s final cry. But he didn’t kick her out. Like Do?a Ursulina, she was part of the house.