Young Jaguar, The by Zoe Saadia Page B

appearance
whenever they felt like it. They kept the waxy yellowish substance, along with
perfumes and rosewater, and some indigo to make their hair shine.
    Her eyes could not be helped now, but her cheeks
would look better yellow than glaringly red. She didn’t understand how yellow
was to make a woman look better when first arriving at Azcapotzalco, but now
she’d become used to it. It was a fashionable face color, and the touch of the
yellowish cream upon her cheeks was soothingly cool.
    Paces light and determined, she went out of her
quarters, making her way through the main hall and across the patio.
    Flower’s room was quiet and peacefully dark, but torchlight
flickered in her youngest child’s quarters. The little rascal! He could never
be made go to sleep at a reasonable time of the night.
    She opened the door quietly and stopped in her
tracks, startled. Mecatl sprawled in front of Tecuani, both boys sleepy but trying
to proceed with their bean game.
    They jumped, staring at her guiltily.
    “Greetings, Mistress of the House,” said Mecatl,
first to recover. He showed all of his large teeth in the exaggeratedly
innocent smile. 
    “Mecatl, what are you doing here?”
    “Oh, we were just playing. Umm, didn’t notice it was
so late. I’ll be off now.” He sprang to his feet and was about to dash for the
opening.
    Amused, she blocked his way.
    “Come on, little rascal, what is going on?” She still
remembered him as a cute little boy, still could not think of him as a grown up
youth, almost a warrior, although he now towered above her, a whole head taller
than her.
    “Nothing, nothing at all.”
    He was so anxious to leave, she burst out laughing.
    “Where is Atolli? Has he fallen asleep, and you went
out looking for company?” She glanced at Tecuani. “And you, you should be
asleep for half a night by now. What will you do in calmecac next year?”
    “Mecatl did just fine.” Her youngest son’s grin was
as playful, as mischievous as usual, but some shadows hid in the depths of his
eyes, too.
    “Mecatl, there is no need to go home when it’s so
late,” she said, unbalanced by their strange uneasiness. “Go to Atolli’s room
and sleep with him. There are enough mats over there, but I’ll get the servants
to bring more.”
    Mecatl was growing unsettled with her every word, his
knuckles whitening as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked, growing worried. “What
happened?”
    A thought flashed and she turned around and rushed
for Atolli’s old room. It was still his, although, of course, he had lived in
his calmecac for many summers by now, coming to sleep at home only for
holidays and short breaks.
    She swung the door open, knowing already he wouldn’t
be there.
    “Where is he?” she demanded, whirling to glare at
the boys, who had followed.
    Mecatl shrank away from her. “He… he went out for a
while, but he’ll be back soon.”
    “Where?” She noticed she was almost shouting and
lowered her voice. “Where did he go?”
    Mecatl dropped his eyes, his bulky figure sagging,
cumbersome in the dimly lit corridor. Indecisiveness did not suit him.
    Tecuani moved closer. “Mother, don’t worry. He’ll be
back soon.”
    “Listen,” she said, fighting a wave of rising panic.
“Whatever you think he did wrong, I promise not to get angry. Just tell me
where he’s gone. Please, tell me now.”
    Mecatl clenched his fists so tight his joints went
completely white. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where he
went. But he’ll be back soon, I’m sure. He promised. We’ve been waiting for
him.”
    “I don’t believe you,” she said sternly. “You know
very well where he has gone. You worry about him because you know. Tell me!”
She thought of the possibilities. “Did he go back to your calmecac , to
argue with someone, or maybe to bring some of your things?”
    “Yes, I think he went there,” said Mecatl readily.
Too readily.
    She