Beautiful Salvation (10 page)

“Cipactli gave her body to her people.” He tilted his head. “Is one life so much to pay for her sacrifice?”

Putting a hand to her rolling stomach, Aiyana tried to hold back the scream she wanted to unleash on him, breathing through the hysteria until she could speak with a calm, clear voice. “To you? No. To me? Maybe not. But to that one subject that is chosen, that one life is
everything.
Cipactli lives. The sacrifice does not. Who is to say one life of…servitude, deserves one life in its entirety?”

Aiyana pressed her finger to her temples, a pit of cold opening up inside her. The man before her was handsome, even cloaked as he was in the features of a jaguar. There was an aura about him that spoke of confidence and power, and she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt tugging at her insides when she looked at him. Part of her wanted to agree with him, wanted to give in to the connection she sensed, the easy peace of not having to fight against the power inside her anymore. An hour ago she never would have dreamed of finding a man who knew what she was and wanted her anyway, and there was an allure to the idea that tempted her.

But his easy acceptance of death, his nonchalance about the ending of a life as some sort of twisted tribute… It disgusted her. It didn’t matter if he accepted the darkness within her, was comfortable with it—she wasn’t. And as long as she had hope of becoming something better, of getting a better life for her people, she would continue to fight.

She squared her shoulders, more determined than ever to seek out the fairy. “If what you say is true, and the Black God himself has granted me some of his powers, then obviously he means for me to be an instrument of death, the weapon that will spill blood, end life, to feed this…Cipactli.” She squared her shoulders. “I…have heard the land. I know that part of what you say is true, that something in the land does thirst for blood. But the fact is, this land is not dying.” She held her hands out, gesturing at the greenery around her. “Cipactli, if she is real, obviously does not
need
flesh and blood so much as she
wants
it. I will be ruler of this land someday, and I will not stand by as my subjects die if I have the power to stop it. And I will not house the terrible urges to violate my beliefs, be forced to live with the gruesome images and nightmares that plague me and show me a future I cannot accept for myself. I will see this fairy and I will find a way to get the power to help my people.
All
of my people.”

Saamal blinked, trying to think past the pleasant buzzing along his skin, the heady aroma of power in the air. His heart thudded against his chest, a solid thump more vital then he’d experienced in over a century. The fog that had clouded his mind and body for so long had finally lifted and he felt as if he were taking the first deep, clear breaths he’d had in over a century.

Aiyana held his power inside her. She wore the skin of his spirit animal, the jaguar. He hadn’t thought she could be any more beautiful than she was as he’d always seen her, but standing in front of her and seeing her flawless skin covered in sleek fur, coal dust rosettes standing out against the pale gold of her pelt, golden eyes sparking with passion as she fought with him, argued with him… She was stunning. And the power. He could sense it, feel it even with the physical distance between them. Being close to her, to his power pulsing inside her, had him feeling like his old self again. Strong. Powerful. Invincible. It was intoxicating.

And she wanted to give it away.

“You will be queen one day, princess. You will join with the land, your life will be its life, your power its power. Would you so readily weaken yourself and your land by giving up the power the Black God has given you?” He tried to keep his voice calm and his claws carefully tucked into his fists. Someone had poisoned Aiyana against him, filled her head with lies and half-truths. He had to build trust between them, show her that he was not the violent beast she believed he was.

“Only a fool equates power with violence,” Aiyana responded coolly, holding herself with all the regal bearing of the queen she would one day be. “I will not ask more of my subjects than I am willing to give myself.” Her voice softened and her eyes lost focus as if she were seeing something that wasn’t there. “My mother and father used to be under the thrall of the Black God. They allowed the priests to lead the sacrifice every year, allowed a young man to have his heart torn out of his chest for the sake of the land. It wasn’t until the Black God possessed me, tried to take me against their will, that they realized he didn’t care for the land. He only cares for himself, and following him would drive our kingdom to ruin, leave us a people who care for nothing but blood and war.”

Anger rose up inside him, given wings by the power invigorating his body and spirit. “Your parents taught you to be afraid the Black God?”

Aiyana dipped her head in confirmation. “They had the strength to turn away once they realized what he was truly like. And they had the strength to love me even though I was tainted.”

Her voice broke on the last word and Saamal clenched his teeth to hold in the roar of fury that wanted to escape. How
dare
they make her feel like a monster? How
dare
they poison the people against him after all he’d done for them, for the kingdom? A terrible rage simmered inside him. A flash of lightening lit the sky, followed by a long, low roll of thunder. Saamal glared up at the sky and went still when he saw the vicious storm clouds hovering over the forest, pregnant clouds ripe with the threat of rain.

“If you go there angry, you can draw some very bad things to you. The land itself can become scary if you put that kind of emotion into it.”

Adonis’ words echoed back to him and Saamal sucked in a deep breath and willed his agitation to dissipate. Now was not the time to think of punishment or retribution. His first priority had to be Aiyana. He had to undo the ill will for him her parents had instilled in her. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t wake her…

After he could speak without letting his emotions bleed into his words, Saamal fixed Aiyana with a solemn look. “You believe the Black God revels in violence, that it is a hedonistic desire for him to see his people bleed and die?”

Aiyana gestured around her again. “As I told you earlier, this land does not seem to be suffering does it? The sacrifice obviously isn’t necessary, so what other reason could the Black God have for insisting on it?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, a flicker of doubt that passed over her face. Saamal latched onto that doubt, searching his mind for something she might have revealed that would give him a hint as to where that doubt came from, a way he could feed that doubt and show her the truth.

“You told me you had violent urges to spill blood on the land, to sacrifice your subjects and challenge them to fights to prove their strength.”

Aiyana’s face hardened. “Yes.”

“During those times you had those urges, those dreams, did you revel in the violence? Do you remember feeling joy at the death?”

She opened her lips to respond, then closed them. Her brow furrowed and she bit her lip as if searching through her memories. Saamal tried to keep his attention on her eyes, ignoring the part of him that wanted to kiss the lip she was biting. Desire curled inside him like a supple tendril of smoke, filling his mind with images of what it would be like to hold her in his arms. He hadn’t anticipated the connection he would feel for her, the way the fire in her eyes when she fought with him would inspire an answering passion in him.

“No,” she answered finally.

Saamal startled, blinking at her, his mind whirling furiously to catch up. “No. Then if you don’t find joy in the death, the violence, then what do you feel?”

“In the dreams it’s not the violence itself that feels good. With the… With the sacrifices, I can feel satisfaction, but it comes from the earth. I can feel it through a bond with the land, but I don’t feel joy watching the man die.” She toyed with the edge of her cloak. “And after the fights with the young men, I feel…sad, if they fail. I only feel joy if they are successful, if they demonstrate prowess and strength. It makes me feel pride in my people—”

She turned away and without thinking, Saamal grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her to him. The curves of her body pressed against the hard planes of his own, and the power spiked between them. Aiyana gasped and Saamal inhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment. He gathered his control, struggling to remain clear headed in the face of power he hadn’t experienced in so long he’d forgotten what it was like. He opened his eyes and caught his breath at the sight of Aiyana’s golden eyes now shining like obsidian. A reflection of his power.

“The Black God wants his people to be strong and prosperous.” Saamal forced himself to hold still, to resist the urge to pull her closer. “He challenges his people so that they keep striving to be better, stronger. He encourages them to offer sacrifices to Cipactli so that the earth will thrive and the primordial monster who gave herself over to support her people will be sated, content to remain as she is. The Black God made a pact with Cipactli, he gave her his word that the people would not forget her, would not dishonor her sacrifice and leave her to starve. Would you have him break that pact?”

Aiyana swayed on her feet and Saamal could see her struggle to think through the rush of power. If he was having difficulty thinking clearly, he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Aiyana, a mortal who had never experienced the full power before. He raised a hand and brushed the hair back from her face.

“Aiyana, our kingdom is not like others. Our land was created from flesh and blood, and flesh and blood is what it demands. We are not a barbaric people, we are an honorable people, a people who respect the sacrifices made for us.”

“If you could really speak for our people on that matter then I would not have so many memories of people cowering in fear from me, whispering behind my back. They are terrified of the power inside me. If the Black God was so caring of his people, if he had their best interests at heart, then why does his power frighten them so?”

Saamal opened his mouth, then closed it. Her words burrowed into his heart, finding the core of his being and feeding on the doubt that had been growing inside him over the last century. Without his power, he’d been out among his people more than he ever had as a full god, in a different capacity than he ever had. Aiyana was right. They did not understand him, did not fully comprehend his actions. And they cowered from what they did not understand.

Forcing a smile to his face, Saamal released Aiyana, breathing through the power that clung to them, stretched between them like an invisible web. He stepped back, gathering his composure, and bowed slightly to Aiyana. “It is gratifying to know that our kingdom will have a queen who cares so much about her people’s welfare. And it is good that you realize it is not only up to your subjects to keep the land vital, it is a responsibility of the monarchy as well.” He paused, contemplating her and the way she drew herself together, regaining her composure bit by bit until she stood mirroring his formal posture. “There is a fire in your eyes, a passion as you speak of your kingdom and what you want for your people. You will not be a queen to sit on her throne and revel in luxury while her people toil. You care, you truly care. I see a strength in you, and it touches my heart to know that that strength, that ferocity, will go to defending my people.”

Aiyana crossed her hands at her waist as she studied him, the action regal despite the vicious claws protruding from her fingers. “I don’t understand you. We are not the same. My vision for my kingdom is the complete opposite of yours. How can you compliment me?” She narrowed her eyes. “If this is an attempt to curry favor, or to try and win me over through praise when you couldn’t win me over with logic—”

A sharp laugh escaped him before he could stop it and Saamal shook his head. “I am not finished explaining my logic to you, Aiyana.” He grew serious, the mirth falling from his face until only the ghost of it remained. “I want what is best for my kingdom. I am not so arrogant that I will not listen to your vision even if it differs from mine.” He offered her his arm. “Allow me to accompany you to the fairy you seek. We can talk on the way.”

“You mean you want to convince me not to give the fairy my power.” Aiyana’s voice held reproach, but she hadn’t said no.

Saamal shrugged. “Unless you convince me to give up mine as well.”