Three Princes by Ramona Wheeler

Author:Ramona Wheeler
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Fantasy, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780765335975
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2014-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

A MACAW soared in through the birds’ entrance, announced itself with a loud call, and then fluttered down to Hanaq Pacha, landing neatly on the backrest of the captain’s seat.

Hanaq Pacha listened intently to the bird’s rapid-fire delivery. Mixcomitl’s macaws turned to listen as well. The bird fell silent, bobbing his head, and held one foot out to stretch his claws open. He was holding the handle of a talking-knot as small as a cushion tassel. Hanaq Pacha took the talking-knot, bowed to the messenger, and strode over to Viracocha.

Viracocha sat forward in his seat as the captain approached. Hanaq Pacha bowed, showed him the talking-knot, and then gave him a softly spoken translation of the avian patois. Viracocha read the talking-knot with a serious expression, seemed satisfied with it, and stood up from his lounge chair. Hanaq Pacha sprang back to the bridge. At his signal, the hara’wi changed, gradually slowing down. The pilots signaled the macaws, who took wing and soared up and out through their private exits.

The pilots then made a series of rapid changes in the multiple levers controlling the lines to the sails. Oken found the dance of their hands over the control panel entrancing because he could not comprehend the pattern. He had spent nights going over and over a single moment of their workings in memory, yet the pattern eluded him.

Hanaq Pacha spoke briefly to the messenger perched on the backrest as he returned the talking-knot. The messenger was gone in a flash of color.

Cloud wisps passing by the windows showed that Mixcomitl was slowing.

Viracocha remained standing. “A Mayan patrol Quetzal has requested my attention, gentlemen.”

“Is that something unusual?” Mabruke said.

“They patrol their forests regularly against tree-pirates. I have been of help from time to time. It is good for border relations, and we, too, must protect our trees.”

“Especially the ones with money growing on them,” Mabruke said.

Viracocha liked that. “Especially those.”

Oken settled himself into focused attention, scanning the view outside with slow deliberation, marking the way the pilots so intently watched the birds in flight before them. Seen from high above, the forests were a sea of green to the far horizon, unbroken save by the gleam of wide, sluggish rivers looping through.

“If I could have your indulgence, gentlemen,” Viracocha said. “I would prefer that the Mayan crew remain unaware of your presence.”

Oken and Mabruke rose from the lounge chairs. “Quite understandable,” Mabruke said. “We will withdraw at once.”

“If you simply stand to either side of the windows, you can see and hear, yet remain unnoticed. You may find this exchange interesting, perhaps even amusing.”

Oken and Mabruke strolled over to the assigned spots. The pilots ignored them, intent on the view outside.

The Mayan Quetzal emerged just below and to their starboard, trailing cloud wisps. He was close to invisible until he had risen fully clear of the cloud bank. Oken immediately thought of Zaydane and his disappearing tents. The Quetzal was painted to look like a bit of cloud himself, difficult

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