Naamah's Blessing

Do I have your forgiveness?”
    “Aye,” I said. “You do. Now go.”
    Bowing, he went.
    “He is no good, that one!” Cusi said fiercely after Eyahue had departed. “He asks too many questions, questions he should not know to ask! You should not forgive him, lady. He is a danger to you.”
    I had the sense of a chasm looming between us.
    I had promised Cusi I would not lie to her, but I had. I had deceived her twice over, first with Temilotzin, now with Eyahue. More than once, I had plotted to her face, dissembling and relying on tongues she did not speak.
    And yet she sought to protect me.
    A promise was not the same thing as a binding oath. But it should be. There should be no difference between the two.
    None.
    My
diadh-anam
flared in agreement. In memory, I saw the look of profound acceptance and approval in the eyes of the Maghuin DhonnHerself. It was time to cast caution to the winds and leap into the chasm.
    “Eyahue does but seek to aid me,” I said simply. “Temilotzin, too. All else is pretense.”
    Cusi drew a sharp breath, studying my face. “Truly?”
    I nodded. “Truly. And now you hold their fate in your hands, Cusi. Lord Pachacuti will not harm me if you tell him. He needs me. But he will punish Eyahue and Temilotzin, mayhap put them to death. The choice is yours.”
    Her expression turned to one of dismay. “I do not want it! It is too big for one such as me.”
    “I know,” I murmured. “The gods use their chosen hard, Cusi, and it seems yours have chosen you for this burden. Whatever secret it is you keep, whatever the secret of the ancestors may be, you’ve guarded it well. You keep telling me it is not for you to say, that you are not old and wise enough. Are you sure that your gods have not decreed otherwise?”
    She looked away, her chin trembling. “I am afraid.”
    “I know,” I repeated. “Nonetheless, you must choose.”

SIXTY

    I slept, and dreamed of falling. Downward and downward, as though I’d leapt into an immense chasm, until at last I struck bottom and woke with a violent jerk, unsure if I was awake or dreaming, alive or dead.
    There was a hand clamped over my mouth.
    For a moment, I was confused, once again imagining myself in a tent in the Abode of the Gods with Manil Datar assaulting me; but there was no knife at my throat, no scent of his cloying perfume. I squinted in the faint moonlight filtering into my bedchamber and made out the face of the old woman Ocllo above me.
    “Be still!” she hissed.
    I nodded my understanding. Ocllo withdrew her hand and straightened. I sat upright to see the shadowy figures of several other women in my chamber, Cusi among them, her pretty face somber. Ocllo beckoned imperiously to her.
    “
Pampachayuway
, lady,” Cusi whispered to me, taking a seat beside me. “I do not wish to pain you, but I must do this thing. Give me your hand.”
    I hesitated.
    Her dark eyes were grave, and older than her years. “You put the lives of your Nahuatl men in my hands. Will you not put your own?”
    Slowly, I extended my right hand. Wrapping her fingers around my wrist, Cusi pressed the tip of her little bronze knife against theheel of my palm. With one surprisingly powerful thrust, she sliced open my palm.
    Bronze does not take a point or hold an edge like steel, and it hurt a great deal more than I would have reckoned. I bit back a cry and breathed the Breath of Wind’s Sigh, willing my mind to distance itself from the pain while my cupped palm filled slowly with blood, dark and shiny in the faint light. Releasing my wrist, Cusi administered the same treatment to her own right hand, opening a gash without flinching.
    “Now.” She held out her hand to me, blood dripping from it. On their sisal rope, the ball of ants stirred with interest. The other women in the chamber watched with silent concentration.
    I clasped Cusi’s wounded hand with my own. It was slippery with warm blood. She returned my grip firmly. I could feel my pulse beating in my palm, and imagined I could feel hers, too, every beat a throb of dull agony.
    It went on for a long time, until at last Ocllo nodded in approval and beckoned to two more women. Cusi relinquished her grip. One of the women came forward with a golden bowl full of water, kneeling and gently bathing Cusi’s and my injured hands, after which the other woman bandaged them gently.
    “Now you are of one blood,” Ocllo murmured. “Now you are as sisters. Now you may enter the Temple of the