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The Sun and the Void (The Warring Gods #1)(97)

Author:Gabriela Romero Lacruz

“Hey, I think they’re waiting for you,” a soft voice said behind her, the person entering the bedroom.

Reina startled, a droplet of iridio flinging out of the dropper and landing on the ground, lost. She cursed.

“Oh—I’m sorry.” Maior hurried to her.

Reina scoffed. “Really? I can’t afford a mistake.”

Maior’s cheeks reddened, her gentle warmth morphing into hot indignation. “Then let me do it. My hands are sure, and yours are shaking.” She raised an eyebrow pointedly.

Reina nodded, making a point for her eyes not to linger on Maior’s lips. She allowed the human to herd her to the bed, where they sat under the cool rays of the morning sun.

Reina turned to Maior stiffly, a flush rushing to her face. She was without a shirt, and her cloth bindings were loose and parted, allowing access to the scarred flesh and tubes. If she wasn’t careful, the slightest movement in the wrong direction could slide the bindings farther down, revealing the pigmentation of her areola, or worse, her nipple.

Maior had seen her, she was sure, when she’d blacked out in La Cochinilla. But that was then, and this was different. She wasn’t in desperate need of iridio. She still could hold on to her dignity.

Those brown eyes glanced up, rounding with a question. Perhaps asking for the consent to begin. Reina nodded, and Maior’s palm gently planted against her skin, positioning the dropper over the tube opening. Her touch seared Reina, or maybe Reina was already scorching.

“Try to relax,” Maior murmured.

Reina didn’t obey. Couldn’t.

She wondered how Maior saw her, with her atrophied skin and the hollow crystal where the ore used to fit into, all ragged edges. Incomplete. Monstrous. Reina certainly felt like all of the above.

The sunlight kissed Maior’s cheeks, and they were so close Reina imagined she could count every one of those soft peach fuzz hairs tracing her jaw. What would it feel like to run the back of her fingers against them? Her belly fluttered and warmed suddenly. Her tail coiled. The sudden treacherous question sobered her. An aching to get closer and find out. Reina stiffened up even more, holding her breath, forcing the moment not to feel so utterly relaxed. So comforting and private. Because she wasn’t supposed to be feeling this now, not with Maior.

She forced Celeste into her thoughts. Imagined the blue fire of her eyes. How her face was in perfect symmetry, carved by a master of the arts. The image muddied whatever traitorous desire misconstrued this moment with Maior. She let out a shuddery exhale just as Maior dropped a tiny amount of iridio into her transplant heart. The timing was perfect, masking the true reason for her relief.

And indeed, the refresh of iridio was delicious. Like the first gushing bite of a ripe mango. Reina closed her eyes and took another hard swallow. “Thanks,” she said.

Maior smiled. She didn’t waste a second before screwing the tube back in place, and again her palm came in close contact with Reina’s breast, almost igniting the same treachery.

When Reina opened her eyes again, she found herself trapped in Maior’s gaze. It held her, steadily and unafraid, and the minute distance made it impossible for Reina to hide her emotions.

“You’ll still take us to your grandmother?” Maior asked, as if Reina’s answer were going to change.

“I have no choice.”

Maior frowned a little. “Sure you do.” But she saw the anger it sparked in Reina, and she backed away.

“Do you not see how I’m enslaved to iridio? Unless I change this, I will not be able to live without a constant supply.”

A furious silence paused between them, and Reina refused to look away. Maior was asking the impossible from her. She would never be able to afford the iridio to stay alive, especially not if Do?a Ursulina or the caudillo himself decided to make her life a misery for disobeying their commands.

Finally Maior said, “You can force me. You know I’m weak compared to you. But you can’t force Celeste.”

“I’m not going to,” Reina said, tightening the bindings around herself and twisting away from the human. Even if she physically could, and it was doubtful, Reina would never force anything on Celeste. “She’s coming willingly, and once we’re there, I’ll tell her everything.” She fished her shirt and jacket from a rackety shelf and covered herself back up.

“Why don’t you tell her now?”

Reina dared not turn to face her. She didn’t want to see whatever smug victory Maior donned. Because they both knew Celeste was willful and mercurial if given the opportunity. Reina couldn’t know with any certainty that Celeste would come to Tierra’e Sol if she understood it was the place of communion. Reina was rotten for misleading Celeste, for not divulging the truth—this she knew. But she also needed to fix her heart, desperately, and Do?a Ursulina was the only one offering her a solution. Surely, once Reina explained in Tierra’e Sol, Celeste would understand that.

She took a deep breath to reply with a half-truth, but the will evaporated as the door opened again.

Eva paused under the doorway, taking in the scene awkwardly, likely realizing she should have knocked. She cleared her throat and said, “Listen, I don’t want to come here pretending I’m anybody’s pigeon—”

“A pigeon?” Reina asked.

“Delivering messages,” Eva said. “But Javier is getting impatient.”

Reina rolled her eyes.

Celeste appeared behind Eva. “All ready to go?” she said, and the smile in her eyes clouded at the sight of Maior in Reina’s room. No one else saw it, because no one else noticed Celeste like Reina did.

Reina stiffened, quickly strapping the scabbard around her body and nodding with a grinding jaw. It was time they ended the journey.

The passage out of Gegania took them to a jungle of slick verdant leaves the size of banners. A profusion of sea grapes and elephant ears, vines looping on every trunk or branch, desperately reached for sunlight through a dense canopy. The floor was crowded by unfurling ferns and palms dripping beads of moisture. Humidity exuded from every plant, clinging to Reina’s cheeks and nostrils as the group climbed up the muddy path. She regretted bringing her ruana. She pulled it off and hooked it from the scabbard as beads of sweat began their track down her back. Walking behind her, Celeste, Eva, Javier, and Maior imitated her shedding of clothes, the heat a stark contrast to the comfortable chill of the mountains.

They followed the cry of seagulls and the soft sound of waves to emerge out of the jungle and into a sprawling beach of powdery white sand. Maior and Eva ran up to the aquamarine shallows, gasping with delight, tossing their espadrilles aside, and splashing their toes in the water. The waves were nothing more than a small breath, serene and quiet. Teeming within the crystal clear waters were tiny unafraid fish, schools glimmering in pinks and rainbow teals, and the occasional shimmering clam, likely heavy with pearls. Palm trees stood along the verdant edges of the beach.

They walked for a good hour under the bite of the sun in search of a marina, their foreheads drenching and noses burning red. At one point, Eva tugged Maior with her into the water, entering the shallows up to their knees and drenching their clothes in salt and sand. Eventually they came upon a fishing village of bungalows painted white like the sand in the tropical backyard, where Javier managed to convince the village chief to grant them a boat ride to the island Samón Bravo had made his residence. He did most of the talking, and Reina suspected it was his antlers and not Celeste’s stamped correspondence that earned them the legitimacy for the request.

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