“He sure must think a lot of himself,” I murmur as we fast-walk down a long corridor.
“Well, he is a star,” the bear explains. “People like to take his picture. And here we are.”
We’ve reached a tall wooden door with a carving of a sun in it. Not surprising. The surprise comes when the bear pushes the door open and there, seated at a round table in the middle of the room, is a distinguished-looking Navajo man, and on the tabletop is someone I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again.
“Mr. Yazzie!” I exclaim, a huge smile breaking across my face. “Is that really you?” His white turtleneck tells me it is.
The Navajo man turns toward me. He’s wearing a traditional yellow velvet shirt over blue jeans, more Navajo jewelry than I’ve ever seen on one person, and a fancy silver-and-coral concho belt at his waist. His dark eyes burn with intensity and I stutter to a stop under that frightening gaze.
“Who are you,” he demands, “who dares to enter the House of the Sun?”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry, and try to form words, but nothing comes out. I even start my deep breathing exercises, but I’m so nervous I can’t get enough air in my lungs.
“Please,” I manage to squeak. I’ve never met anybody famous before, but I imagine this is a thousand times more intimidating. It’s much scarier than when I got sent to the principal’s office for hitting Elora Huffstratter that time.
“Jóhonaa’éí,” Mr. Yazzie says hurriedly, “this is my ward, the young one I was telling you about. She endured the trials of the Rainbow Road to get here.”
Jóhonaa’éí glares at me. “Prove it.”
“What?” I blurt.
He leans forward and beckons me closer. Somehow I get my feet to move until I’m across the table from him. “If you completed the trials, prove it.”
“How?”
“Tell us about each trial and what you learned, child,” Mr. Yazzie says encouragingly. “Just a little, so Jóhonaa’éí can get to know you.”
“And know that you are worthy to stand in my house,” he adds with a deep rumble.
I clear my throat and, to calm my nerves, try to think of it like a book report I’m giving in front of the class. I can do this. No way Jóhonaa’éí is worse than the mean kids at ICCS, no matter how much he scowls at me.
“The first trial was the Talking Rocks. There were these moving rocks that tried to crush us, and—”
“Us?” Jóhonaa’éí asks. He spreads his hands. “And where are the others?”
I feel a lump in my throat. “I—I lost them. On the Rainbow Road.”
“And yet you continued here alone?” he asks. He sounds like he doesn’t believe me.
I nod, not sure I can trust my voice to work.
“Drink some water, child,” Mr. Yazzie says gently, motioning to a glass on the table. I gulp it gratefully and then Jóhonaa’éí motions for me to continue.
“A monster at the Talking Rocks pretended to be Mr. Yazzie and—”
“Me? Really? How unusual.” The lizard puffs up with pride until the Sun shoots him a glare.
“Yeah. He lured Mac—my brother—inside, and I ran after him as fast as I could, but by the time I caught up, he’d been replaced by the shape-shifter.”
“You ran into the closing rocks…” Jóhonaa’éí echoes. “And what did you do when you encountered the monster?”
“I fought it and it escaped, but the rocks closed before I could catch it and find out what happened to Mac.” Despite my vow to be brave, I feel my chin begin to quiver. “I…failed.…”
“That is for Jóhonaa’éí to decide,” says Mr. Yazzie.
The Sun leans back, thinking. But he delivers no verdict. Instead, he asks, “What about the second trial?”
I take a deep breath and continue. “That was the Field of Knives. Davery—he’s my best friend—and I were getting cut up by these really sharp reeds, so I said we should cover ourselves with mud to protect our skin, and we made it through.”
“You didn’t consider turning back?” the Sun asks, that same skeptical tone in his voice.
“I knew we had to get through the trial, even if it did mean ruining my favorite jeans.” I point to my cut-up pants and smile sheepishly. “I’m sorry I don’t look more presentable.”
Mr. Yazzie tsk-tsks, as though he’s a little embarrassed on my behalf.
But Jóhonaa’éí doesn’t seem to care about my pants. After a minute, he says, “Tell me of the third trial.”
“It was hard,” I admit. “It was the Prom of Thorns, which turned out to be a real prom.”
“A school dance,” Mr. Yazzie explains.
“And everyone was so nice, and there were punch and cookies and a DJ, and a really cute boy asked me to dance. I could have stayed there forever. But if I had, I would have forgotten my family, and I didn’t want to do that. So I got us out.”
The Sun crosses his arms. “You got out.…”
I don’t confess that I did it by pulling a fire alarm, but by the suspicious way he’s looking at me, it’s like he’s already guessed.
“And the fourth trial?”
I take another drink of water. “I went into a mirror and saw a vision of my mother,” I say simply.
Now Jóhonaa’éí leans so close I can feel his heat against my skin. “And what did you learn from your vision, Nizhoni?”
“I learned I was wrong about my mom,” I whisper. “I thought she left us because she just didn’t want to have a family anymore, like maybe she was tired of raising me and my brother. But it turns out she loved us and she had a good reason for leaving.”
“And what was that?”
“She left to fight her own monsters. She was a monsterslayer, too.”
“Ahhh,” Jóhonaa’éí says. “And is that what you are, then? A monsterslayer? Someone who is willing to face danger to save her family? Someone who thinks on her feet? Someone who never gives up?”
He waits expectantly for my answer. My first impulse is to deny it, but then I think about all the trials I went through, and how they each made me do something brave.…
“Yes,” I say, standing up straight. “I am a monsterslayer, just like my mom.”
His brown eyes pierce mine. “Then we must go about procuring you your weapons.”
I beam with pride, relief flooding through my body.
Mr. Yazzie claps his claws together. “Now we’re talking!”
I rush forward to give Mr. Yazzie a hug, which is kind of hard ’cause he’s so small, but I manage.
“Oh goodness, child!” the horned toad says, fussing. “Gently, please. I’m not quite in the boat.…No, I’m not floating in the sea.…No, no that’s not it.…Oh! I’m not quite shipshape! Yes, that’s it!”
I giggle. This is definitely the real Mr. Yazzie.
“When did you get here?” I ask him. “How did you get here?”
“I took a shortcut.”
“There’s a shortcut?” I ask incredulously.
“Not for heroes,” he adds hastily. “You needed to face the trials, to learn about yourself. I am old and have seen many a trainee through this adventure. I don’t need to face any trial harder than getting out of bed in the morning.”
“Speaking of heroes,” I say, my voice catching in sadness, “you heard that I lost Mac and Davery.”
“And yet you continued on the Rainbow Road.”
“I didn’t know what else to do. I knew everyone was counting on me to finish the trials and come here so I could fight Mr. Charles.”
“I’m very proud of you,” Mr. Yazzie says, his voice quiet and serious. “You made it to the House of the Sun, which is more than many monsterslayers-to-be have accomplished, so I think you did quite well.”
“But what about my friends?”
Jóhonaa’éí, who has been listening, says callously, “Sacrifices must be made.”
“All I’ve done is make sacrifices!” I shout at the Sun.
“Nizhoni,” Mr. Yazzie whisper
s out of the side of his mouth. “The Merciless One, remember?”
“Listen to the horned toad,” Jóhonaa’éí growls. “Don’t anger me, child, when you still need my help. I can get quite heated.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, chastised. “But all these losses don’t seem fair.…”
“Victory comes at a price,” he says.
A phrase comes to me—Who will pay the lost ones’ price? “That sounds like the song of wonder,” I say, reaching for my backpack to take out the flyer. “From the cart lady.”
“Cart lady?” Jóhonaa’éí asks.
“One of the Diyin Dine’é, to be sure,” Mr. Yazzie explains. “In clever disguise.”
“Likely Nilch’i,” says the Sun. “He does like to help out, and his songs are sometimes obscure but always wise. What did it say?”
I read aloud. “Blood and flesh will not suffice. A dream must be the sacrifice.”
“Well,” Jóhonaa’éí says, rubbing a hand across his chin, “then you see the truth in my words.”
“But do not fear, Nizhoni,” Mr. Yazzie says quickly. “If your friends disappeared on the Rainbow Road, they weren’t sacrificed. They are most likely just stuck in the Lost and Found.”
Surely I didn’t hear that right. “Did you say ‘lost and found’?”
“People vanish from the Rainbow Road quite frequently,” Jóhonaa’éí confirms. “Things, too. Ideas. Thoughts. I have my bear sentinels collect them all and keep them in the Lost and Found.”
My heart speeds up. “Can we go there now?”
Jóhonaa’éí makes a sound like he’s annoyed. “I must remind you that you only have until sunrise to stop the monsters. You should visit the weapons room and arm yourself first. Perhaps even get in some practice, so you aren’t immediately slaughtered. It would be a shame for you to have come all this way only to die.”
I blanch, but I’m not backing down. “Didn’t you say one of my hero traits is caring about my family? Well, Mac is my brother and Davery is my best friend, who is just like family. So they come first.”
The Sun frowns but doesn’t argue.
“Can you at least tell me if they’re okay? I mean, they aren’t hurt, are they?”
He folds his arms like he’s not going to tell me, then finally gives in. “If they are in the Lost and Found, they might be a bit uncomfortable,” he acknowledges. “But otherwise they are fine for now.”
“For now?”
“Yes.” And he doesn’t explain further.
I chew my lip, unsure. As much as I hate to admit it, the Sun has a point. I’m desperate to have Mac and Davery back, and Jóhonaa’éí knows where they are. On the other hand, maybe they can wait a little longer. What’s the point of saving them now if doing so would mean the world is overrun with monsters?
I thought I’d be more excited to finally be able to pick out weapons. Without Mac and Davery here to share the experience, this hero business feels overrated. I know I have to be responsible, but it makes my stomach ache. Dad says there are always things we don’t want to do, like clean our rooms or do math homework, but we have to do them anyway—that’s part of growing up. This feels ten times worse, though, and I really wish I had someone with me to tell me what I should do.
“It’s a heavy responsibility, being a monsterslayer,” Mr. Yazzie says, his face sympathetic.
“Way heavier than I thought,” I confess.
I turn to Jóhonaa’éí. “I’ll get the weapons first,” I say. “As long as you promise me that Davery and Mac are safe and I can go see them right after.”
“As you wish,” he says, looking more amused than angry. “You know,” he adds, “most people don’t dare argue with the Sun. Even though you annoy me, I am impressed.”
“Thank you,” I say with a sniff. Point for me.
“Follow me!” Mr. Yazzie says, hopping off the table to trundle down the hallway. “And behold the weapons of a true monsterslayer!”
Jóhonaa’éí leads us down the corridor. Mr. Yazzie and I follow, the horned toad back in his favorite riding spot right inside my hoodie. Once again I’m struck by how many pictures of the sun cover the walls.
“Someone thinks he’s the center of the universe, doesn’t he?” I murmur.
“No,” Jóhonaa’éí says, looking over his shoulder at me. “Just the solar system.” He smirks.
I flush. “They’re very nice,” I add quickly. Gotta say he’s not my favorite Diyin Dine’é.
“Here we are,” he says, stopping in front of a huge wooden door. It’s tall enough to allow in those bear sentinels while standing on each other’s shoulders. A pair of lightning bolts is carved into the center, adding to its intimidating look.
I’m starting to get that feeling again—that I’m in over my head. But all of a sudden, I remember what Łizhin told me: Don’t worry about what you’re supposed to be. Just be who you are. I can almost hear her voice saying it, and it reassures me.
Jóhonaa’éí pushes and the door swings open. The three of us enter.
Once, Dad took us to this museum that had an ancient weapons room. The gallery was filled with ten-foot-long spears pinned to the walls and arrowheads and knives under glass cases. I guess I was expecting something like that. Boy, was I wrong.
Entering the weapons room is like stepping into a roiling ball of electricity. Light and fire seem to flash all around me, and my instinct is to cover my head and get out of the way. Lightning shoots out in a jagged line, headed straight for Mr. Yazzie.
“Duck!” I yell, reaching for my horned toad friend. But I shouldn’t have worried. The lightning strike stops short by at least a yard, and I realize the fiery mass is somehow staying in the center of the room, as if surrounded by an invisible shield.
“You are quite safe,” Jóhonaa’éí says from behind me. “The lightning is contained and will not harm you.”
The lightning continues to flash and flare, close enough to reach out and touch. I sure hope Jóhonaa’éí’s right, or we’re going to end up very crispy.
“What do you think?” Jóhonaa’éí asks.
“Very impressive,” I say, “but I thought there would be weapons.”
He sweeps a hand across the room. “Is this not a weapon?”
I remember what the buzzard bozos said about a true monsterslayer wielding a lightning sword, so I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, I knew there would be lightning. But I guess I wasn’t thinking of it as actual lightning, more like metaphorical lightning. “It definitely is. I was just expecting…”
“A gun?” He sounds disappointed.
“No,” I say hastily. “Something more old-timey. Maybe a knife, some swords, a bow and arrow in the shape of lightning? Does that even make sense?”
He smiles warmly now, for the first time since I got here. “I control lightning, and from it I can forge any weapon of your choosing. Tell me what you and your friends require and I will shape them for you.”
Awesome! “Anything I want? Anything Mac and Davery want, too?” My mind reels.
And then it crashes back to earth, because what are we going to do with a bunch of deadly weapons? Davery spends most of his time reading, and while I have definitely improved over my gym humiliation days, what with the superfast running and the night vision, I’m not sure either of those things are going to help me wield a weapon. Mac is the only one who seems to have a direct attack power, but unless Jóhonaa’éí can turn the lightning into a water sprinkler, there’s nothing here for him, either.
“Go on, Nizhoni,” Mr. Yazzie says encouragingly. “Tell him what you need.”
“Well…” I hesitate, worried I’m going to blow this. “Do they have to be, like, weapons weapons?”
“What do you mean?” Jóhonaa’éí asks.
“It’s just…Davery’s never needed anything more than internet access or a book. His ancestral power seems to be extra smartness or something. So maybe he could just use a…lightning book?”
Mr. Yazzie groans and s
macks his forehead with a tiny claw, but Jóhonaa’éí looks thoughtful. “A weapon of knowledge…” he says. “I like it. For what is knowledge but a weapon against ignorance?”
Jóhonaa’éí steps forward. He rolls up his sleeves and reaches into the center of the room. Lightning flashes and crackles around us, like we’re inside one of those plasma balls at the science museum. Thunder booms in the distance as the room fills with light. It’s so bright I have to shield my eyes and turn away. The flare fades, and when I look back, Jóhonaa’éí is holding something in his hands.
A book about the size of a regular novel but not very thick. On its gold cover are two lightning bolts, just like on the door to the weapons room.
“What does it do?” I ask.
“It contains the secrets to defeating your enemies,” says Jóhonaa’éí. “When the right person reads from it, it shall tell them everything they need to know to beat the monsters.”
“Not to be rude, but if the Holy People already know how to defeat the monsters, why don’t they do it themselves?”
“HOW DARE YOU?” Jóhonaa’éí erupts, his voice echoing through the chamber.
“It’s just a question,” I insist, ignoring his bluster.
“The monsters threaten humans,” Mr. Yazzie explains. “They don’t bother the Holy People. While they may provide some assistance, it’s up to the humans to fight their own battles.”
Jóhonaa’éí nods, his face still dark.
“Okay, okay, I get it now,” I murmur. “Sorry I offended you.”
In a sign that he accepts my apology, he hands me the golden book, and I slide it into my backpack.
Race to the Sun Page 19
