The Actual Star by Monica Byrne

Author:Monica Byrne [Byrne, Monica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2021-07-16T00:00:00+00:00

Oaxaca

13 Eb 10 Sek, Long Count 15.10.14.7.12

1 November, 3012

In a room carved into the mountain, Tanaaj was having lunch with a group of jovenix who’d come to see her.

“We brought you a gift,” said the one named Leticia.

“But hermanix,” said Tanaaj, “you have already brought me information.”

“This is something you can hold! Trust me, you’ll like it.”

Tanaaj smiled. “See?” she said to those watching. “See how I suffer?”

They all laughed, and Leticia turned back to the other jovenix. The room was tiny, but the wayhouse was large, built to hold two hundred; its honeycomb rooms overlooked the valley. Though the views were beautiful, Tanaaj felt uneasy in this region. There was no water, no humidity, no greenery. Oaxaca was a desert. A dry wind screamed just beyond the edge, sloughing the mountains to sand.

Leticia turned back, holding a bundle on her palms. Tanaaj pressed her hands in thanks and unwrapped the cloth. There lay a four-pointed star of green obsidian.

“Oh,” she said softly.

She touched it and felt a jolt, like an electric shock. She whipped her finger away.

It took a moment for Tanaaj to get her voice back. The jovenix were all staring at her.

“Truly, I am honored, carnalix,” she said. She touched her hand to her heart, thanking Xibalba, and then took the bundle and used the cloth to hold the blade up to the sky. The edge of the obsidian was so smooth, it reminded her of water petals surging up a beach, which reminded her of something else, a memory that slid beyond her awareness. “I will cherish it.”

Leticia bowed from the waist, and the other jovenix did the same.

“Now,” said Tanaaj, “let us clean up from lunch, yes? And hermanix Leticia, let’s work together so you can tell me what you came to tell me.”

They started clearing plates and cups. Because of water scarcity, Tanaaj asked for irradiator brushes, then beckoned for Leticia to follow her to an adjacent room. She trusted the jovenix. She trusted everyone who came to her, according to Versa Seis, The strangest stranger is your sister. Briefly, she considered the alternative: suspecting every stranger of malice, or even murder. That was the hell that Niloux DeCayo was living now. But she had brought it on herself. Tanaaj felt pity for her.

She pitied herself, for other reasons. She’d made herself the champion of Laviaja by promising to prove Xibalba was real. How she was going to do that, she still didn’t know. The problem swelled fresh in her mind every morning like a headache. Still, she kept faith. She adhered to the Rule of Saint Leah, using the aug as little as possible. That meant her only information came from those who chose to share it with her. Any bit of it was precious now.

They were brought irradiator brushes. They started scrubbing the plates, brushing the crumbs into bowls for reuse.

“Now, hermanix,” said Tanaaj, “tell me what you came to tell.”

Leticia nodded. “There are four thousand declared LFC following you now,” she said, “if you count between Acapulco and Tenochtitlán.

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