Sail With Me (A Discovery Series Book) (28 page)

I stood in the canoe, startling the Sunal warrior sitting next to me and
causing Zolin to grab onto my arm.

“What are you doing?” he shouted.

“What has to be done. These canoes are too slow. Tizoc hasn’t got much
time. I can feel it.” I pulled out the pistol and handed it to him. “Take this…
just in case.”

His hand closed around the gun, but he would not use it. He trusted his
spear and only his spear.

With a brief look back to the shore, I leaped from the canoe into the
water.

I kicked my legs and paddled my arms until they burned with muscle
strain. My chest was tight. Sea salt stung my throat, my eyes. I wanted to stop
swimming, just for a moment and rest, but if I ceased, it would be so easy to
slip under the surface to the dark oblivion waiting below me. Tizoc needed me
to make it to the
Charlotte
.

I don’t know how much time had passed, but I somehow managed to catch up
to the
Charlotte
. I called out, treading water next to her hull, but the
wind roared in the sails. The waves crashed noisily against the boat. Below it
all, I struggled to keep pace with the
Charlotte’s
speed.

Tizoc!
I had to get aboard.
I’m here.

No response. I looked back to the canoes. So far away. Had I really
managed to swim that far?  

Tizoc, please…

Again, his mind was silent.

My legs slowed their kicking as my body sunk into the water with fatigue.
If I couldn’t get onto the
Charlotte
, I would drown before the canoes
reached me. Tizoc and I both would die.

I kicked back to the surface, and as I sucked in a breath, a splash of
water smacked my face. When I cleared my eyes, a rope drifted on the water’s
surface in front of me. Yaretzi and Matlal leaned over the starboard rail,
their hands on the line, waiting to pull me up. I reached out and wound the
rope securely around my forearms, giving it a taut yank to signal I was ready.
A few more heads appeared at the rail, and with a painful jerk at my arms, I
was hauled out of the water.

As I neared the rail, Acalon reached over and grabbed onto my arms. With
one final pull, I was hoisted onto the
Charlotte
at last. Acalon gently
placed me on the deck where I lay for a moment, inhaling the musky scent of the
wooden boards beneath me.

Daniel pushed past Acalon to kneel beside me. “Charlie…”

I crawled into his lap, and Daniel brushed my wet hair aside. He pulled
me closer to his chest. His body was so warm and safe. I wanted to stay in his
embrace forever, but Tizoc filled my mind.

As if sensing my thoughts, Daniel cupped my face in his hand and kissed
the tip of my wet nose. Wordlessly—for the kiss said most of what needed to be
said—he helped me to my feet and led me to the ladder.

“He’s down below.” Daniel traced my cheek with his index finger. “Citlali
and Yaoti are with him, doing what they can, but he needs you. I have to get
back to the helm before Itzli loses the wind.” We both looked to the wheel
where Eréndira’s mate was wrestling with nature, trying to keep the sails full.

“We should sail out a bit farther,” I began, “and then slow down so the
canoes can catch up. There are several canoes full of Sunal, which I know we
don’t have the room for, but maybe we can rig something so we can pull them
behind us? I don’t know. All I do know is Zolin risked his life for me, and we
have to do what we can for them.”

“Agreed.” Daniel’s eyes were so blue, his face still full of concern.

I stepped closer to him and rested my hands on his hips. “I’m all right.
I know what I did was stu—”

“Incredibly brave.” He gave me a tight squeeze as he pressed a kiss to my
lips. “Tizoc didn’t let me die. We can’t let him. Go.”

I descended the ladder to the small accommodations below deck, dripping
water as I went. Tizoc was curled up on the bunk Daniel had built into the
portside wall of the cabin. Sweat coated his forehead. He trembled in fever, in
pain. Yaoti took my hand and tugged me over to Tizoc. He pressed his son’s hand
into mine and looked at me with the desperation of a father whose heart was in
a million pieces. Citlali stepped back from her post at Tizoc’s side, her
woeful dark eyes searching for hope in my face.

Swallowing with great difficulty, I sat on the edge of the bunk and
rested my free hand on Tizoc’s cheek. His eyes fluttered open, but the
beautiful golden glint was gone. Instead, his eyes were a sickly yellow,
haunting and afraid. Somehow, though, a weak smile drifted over his lips.

Cihuapilli
,
his mind whispered to mine.

“Shh…” I caressed his cheek. “Let’s see how bad this is.” I let go of his
hand and turned my attention to Matlal’s blood-soaked vest still serving as
bandage to his wound. I slowly, carefully, peeled the cloth away, and Tizoc
sucked in a breath at the pain. He pulled his legs up closer to his chest and
grabbed onto my arm.

“Easy.” I placed my palm on his arm. “Don’t move so suddenly.” Turning to
Yaoti I said, “I’ll need some water, clean cloths, some fishing line, a needle,
and a knife. I think Daniel’s got one.”

Yaoti dashed out to acquire the requested items. Citlali moved closer to
her son again and spoke to me in a voice so soft I wasn’t certain she had
spoken aloud.

“
Cihuapilli
, I don’t know what to do for this kind of wound. Can
you save him?”

“I’ve tended my brothers’ injuries, but this one is serious. We need to
get that bullet out and close up the hole.”

“How is he?” Xochitl had come down the ladder.

“We’ll know soon enough.” Looking to Citlali’s weary eyes and shaking
hands, I glanced at Xochitl. “Care to be my assistant?”

“Of course.” Xochitl stepped into the cabin. “Tell me what to do.”

Citlali made room for her daughter to stand beside me. Yaoti appeared
back in the cabin, his hands full of what I had asked him to get. Laying all
the supplies out before me, I instructed Xochitl to mop Tizoc’s brow and try to
cool him down with a wet cloth. She did as asked while I lit a candle next to
the bunk. Taking the knife, I held it in the flame for several minutes, turning
it around so all angles got exposed to the heat. I let it cool for a moment,
hoping the blade was sanitary enough for what I was about to do with it.

I swabbed at Tizoc’s lower back with a damp cloth, exposing the injury.
More blood pooled up from the hole in his torso, and I caught it with a dry
piece of cloth. Taking the knife, I sent Tizoc all the energy I could muster
before inserting the knife tip into the wound.

He let out a howl, his whole body tensing up as I probed his side with
the knife blade, searching for the bullet.

“Hold him steady,” I told Xochitl.

She clamped her hands down on his shoulders, trying to immobilize and
comfort at the same time.

A mumbled moan filled the cabin as I mined for the bullet. By this time,
I had crawled up onto the bunk using the weight of my own body to hold Tizoc’s
legs down so he wouldn’t crunch them up to his chest.

Finally, after multiple tries and several blood-drenched cloths, the
knife hit something metal. Burrowing a bit deeper, I eased the knife tip under
the bullet and extracted it.

“Got it.” I dropped the ball of lead into a tin cup on the small table
beside the bunk. “Here, hold this while I thread the needle.” I put Xochitl’s
palm over a new piece of cloth I had applied to Tizoc’s back.

Somehow my own hands were steady enough to guide the fishing line through
the needle. “Bear with me a bit more, Tizoc.”

When I looked at him, his face had gone slack. He had passed out.
Probably for the best.

Gently guiding Xochitl’s hand away, I set to work on sewing the wound
closed. The actual hole was quite small and was quickly sealed with a tight
zigzag stitch. The blood flowing from the wound lessened, and I tore off
another piece of cloth to use as a bandage. Wrapping it around Tizoc’s torso
several times, I tied it in place and slid off the bunk to stand next to
Xochitl.

Looking down at Tizoc’s blood staining my hands, my body quaked, the cast
iron nerves of the moment lost. The room swirled before my vision, and Citlali
and Xochitl guided me back to the bunk.

“Let’s get her hands cleaned off,” Xochitl said in a voice that sounded
far away and tinny.

I was vaguely aware of water being poured, and my hands being dunked into
it. Felt someone scrubbing at them. Drying them off.

“Charlie,” Citlali said. “Are you all right,
Cihuapilli
?”

I managed a nod as I gazed at my washed hands. Looking over my shoulder
at Tizoc, I said quietly, “The question is, is he?”

****

Citlali and I spent most of the night by Tizoc’s bedside. He developed a
brutal fever that had him sweating and shivering into the late morning hours.
Several times I thought we had lost him, but something kept him with us.

I awoke with an annoying ache in my neck from falling asleep on a stool
with my upper body leaning forward onto the bunk. I was alone with Tizoc.
Thankfully, he was neither soaked with perspiration nor shaking with cold. His
skin was more like its usual brown silk.

Getting up from the stool and rubbing my eyes, I winced a little at the
stiffness of my body. My muscles had been pushed beyond their limits yesterday
as I swam from the canoe to the
Charlotte
. Shaking my head at my own
actions—what was I thinking?—I padded over to the washbasin and splashed some
water on my face. As I finished drying off, something soft brushed up against
my ankle. I set the towel aside, and Ghost came to sit at my feet, his tail
wrapped neatly around his front paws. Angling his head at me, his big blue eyes
waited patiently for something.

“Come to see how he’s doing, have you?” I picked Ghost up and placed him
on the end of the bunk. The cat sniffed at Tizoc’s toes, rubbing his cheeks on
the biggest before slinking up to his head. Tizoc’s back rose and fell with an
easy rhythm. A good sign.

I kneeled on the bed and checked the cloth bandage. There didn’t appear
to be any new stains of his blood. Another good sign.

As I eased off the bunk, Ghost discovered Tizoc’s ear and licked it clean
with his sandpapery tongue. I was about to shoo him away when a groan slipped
past Tizoc’s lips.

He straightened his legs out and brought one of his hands up to his head.
I froze where I was, waiting for the eyes. Waiting for the eyes to open and
tell me his true condition.

“
Cihuapilli
?” Tizoc rasped, lifting his head up.

“Right here.” I sat on the small stool beside the bed. “How are you?”

He slipped his hand over mine. The moment his skin touched me, I knew.
His eyes opened and the sun-fire gaze flared at me, heavy lids blinking over
the gold.

He was back.

“You…” he said, his voice still scratchy, “you saved me.”

I turned my hand around so our fingers intertwined. Tizoc smiled, but his
brows creased as he shifted to his back to see me better.

“Sorry. There’s nothing I can do about the pain,” I said.

Squeezing my hand, he shook his head. “You have done enough
.
The
pain is not that bad considering someone put a hole in me.” He drew in a deep
breath then focused his eyes on me again. “How did you know what to do?”

“After my mother died, I was the one to take care of my father and brothers
when they were home. If they got sick or hurt, I went to the library in
Southampton and figured out how to help. I wasn’t going to lose them as I had
lost my mother. Among other topics, I read about gun wounds, hoping I’d never
have a need for that knowledge, but here we are. I’m glad it worked.”

“Me too.” Tizoc moved, his entire face wrinkling in pain. “What happened
on the beach? You didn’t come with me to the
Charlotte.
”

“No.” I fiddled with the thin blanket covering the bunk. I told him the
rest.

“You
swam
to this boat?” Tizoc said.

“Yes.” I swiped at one of the tears that had escaped onto my cheek. Tizoc
propped himself up on one elbow and freed his hand from mine to brush at a few
more tears chasing the first one.

“Don’t cry, Charlie,” he said. “You are a warrior. You’ve proven it more
than once in the last few days.”

“It’s one thing to dress as a male and sail across the ocean. It’s
entirely another to dress as a warrior and…”

“Kill,” Tizoc finished.

I buried my face in my hands. Tizoc stroked my hair as I leaned my
forehead against the edge of the bunk.

“You must remember,
Cihuapilli
, you only killed to save other
lives. That makes a difference.” Tizoc lifted my chin so our eyes locked. “It
makes such a difference.”

He was right, but the images of driving spears into Spaniards were not
going to fade quickly.

“Anybody hungry down there?” Daniel descended the ladder. He set a small
basket of fruit down on the bunk. “How are you?”

“Better,” Tizoc replied. “Much better, thanks to Charlie.”

Daniel threw his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me against him. “We
should keep her then?” He dropped a kiss on my forehead before releasing me. As
soon as he stepped away, I wanted him back close again.

“Most definitely.” Tizoc eased back down onto the bunk. “My family? The
other canoes?”

“Your family is above deck, keeping an eye out, trimming sails, steering,
and so on. Giving them jobs to do helps them rein in the worry. The other
canoes have been tied together and tethered to the
Charlotte
so we can
tow them behind us.”

“Excellent idea.” Tizoc exhaled a strained breath as he repositioned
again.

“Eat some of this.” Daniel held out pieces of an apple that had been
sliced. “You lost a great deal of blood and will need to rebuild your
strength.”

Tizoc took an apple slice and nibbled on it.

“We should go and send the others down. They’ll want to see that Tizoc is
well,” I said.

“Then he should rest,” Daniel added. “It won’t take long to get to
Florida in this wind.”

“I’ll come back later,” I said over my shoulder as I hopped onto the
ladder after Daniel.

Tizoc winked an amber eye at me. Thank God, or the gods, or whoever, he
was here for me to come back to. If he had died during the night, a piece of me
would have died along with him. Our connection went far beyond our minds.