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The Jade Bones

Page 29

by Lani Forbes


  Ahkin forced himself to look around until he spotted it: a statue in the likeness of the Lord of Death himself, Cizin, the Fetid One. He was tall and thin, his ribcage protruding from his skeletal form. Dying gray flesh clung to the bones, riddled with black spots of decay. His head was that of a rotting skull, and upon his head sat a headpiece made of owl feathers. Around his neck hung a necklace of human eyes, still dangling from their nerve cords.

  “Gods, he’s horrible.” Mayana quickly turned her eyes away. “I can’t even look.”

  Ahkin’s nerves were stretched as taut as a bowstring. Something about these statues did not feel right. Their eyes seemed to follow Ahkin and Mayana as they passed. Just when Ahkin was sure he saw one of them move, the closest statue of Xic, Winged One, responsible for stealing lone travelers on roads, literally came to life. His black-furred body was humanoid, but instead of arms, bat wings stretched out from his torso, while the head of a wolf smiled at them with pointed fangs.

  “Welcome, humans. You have survived much to make it this far. But you must play a game before you can be allowed to speak to our master, Cizin.” Xic’s voice was high pitched and breathy, as though the wolf’s head was wheezing out his words. “Would you care to take a seat while I explain the rules?” Xic motioned to an empty bench behind them.

  Ahkin didn’t trust the glint in the Winged One’s eyes. Ona, who still cowered beneath Mayana’s legs, growled at the bench, confirming his suspicions. “No, thank you, I think we would prefer to stand.”

  “Shame,” Xic complained. “That is always my favorite trick to play. You see, the bench is as hot as a cooking stone. You humans are so funny to watch when your buttocks are burned to blisters.” He coughed a wheezy laugh.

  Mayana stiffened beside him, reaching for her dagger. “What are the rules of your game, Winged One?” she said.

  Ahkin wanted to kiss her for how strong and confident she sounded. He could feel her pulse fluttering like a hummingbird’s beneath his hand, and it made his heart swell with pride.

  “The rules are simple. You must find Cizin. The real Cizin. There are many representations of his likeness scattered around this hall, but only one of the statues is the true Lord of Death. If you can identify him, you will be granted an audience. If you choose incorrectly”—Xic’s wolfish smile widened—“we will take turns torturing you until Cizin finally rips your souls from your mutilated bodies.”

  Hundreds of wicked laughs, from high pitched and wheezing to as deep and ancient as the earth, surrounded them in a cacophony. It was as if every lord of Xibalba was mocking them.

  “We will play your game,” Mayana said.

  Xic howled and flapped his massive wings, taking to the skies to observe them in their quest to identify the true Lord of Death.

  Ahkin’s blood was pounding in his ears. “How are we going to find him?”

  Mayana licked her cracked, dry lips. “What do you know about Cizin? What have you read?”

  Ahkin racked his brain. “He goes by several names. Cizin, Ah Puch, One Death, Yum Cimil. But he is always the Lord of Death. His symbol is the owl. He sometimes tortures souls by burning them and dousing them with water repeatedly until they dissolve completely.”

  Mayana made a sound of disgust, but she let him continue.

  “His name means ‘Fetid One.’ Stinking . . . as in flatulence.”

  Mayana actually giggled at that. “His name literally means—?”

  “Yes, as in gas. Stench.” Ahkin couldn’t help it, he snorted a laugh too.

  “I wonder what the Mother was thinking, naming him flatulence.”

  A grumble of discontent rumbled from somewhere close by.

  “I’ve also read that it is essential for mourners to scream loudly when someone dies, to scare him away so he doesn’t take more than one soul with him when he goes back to Xibalba.”

  Mayana nodded in acknowledgment. “Okay. Now that we know that, I think we can make a plan from there.”

  “Make a plan?” Ahkin arched an eyebrow at her.

  Mayana sighed in frustration. “Yes, a plan. But you need to promise to trust me if my intuition leads me away from the plan, all right?”

  Ahkin could feel the war raging within him. Making a plan is exactly what he wanted to do. Find some kind of systematic way to rule out the least likely statues and use logic to narrow down the rest. Mayana wanted to start out with a plan but be allowed to follow her heart if she felt led to do so. It went against everything he’d ever been taught, but then he looked at the determined set of her jaw, the smoldering passion in her eyes. You need to promise to trust me, she’d said.

  She had been right so many times on this journey, and even before they leapt into the underworld. Her heart had led her to the truth about how the Mother goddess really wanted to be worshipped, the truth about his sister’s evil intentions. She thought quickly enough to make a weapon to kill the snake, saved him from rock monsters with her water power, knew how to appease the demon guardians on the mountain. She even knew to comfort the spirit of a weeping woman and had been rewarded with the bones of her mother.

  And she had saved him from the jaguars when he had been about to die.

  Mayana was stronger than any woman he had ever known. Not because she could wield a spear or a knife, but because she could wield her heart with deadly accuracy. Though everyone around her challenged her and accused her of being selfish for following it, it was a heart that Ahkin knew and trusted in the deepest parts of himself. Yes, yes, he could trust her to know the truth. Hadn’t she been doing that all along?

  “Yes,” he breathed, pulling her toward him for a fierce kiss. “I will follow your heart to the place where smoke has no outlet, if I need to.”

  Mayana kissed him harder, clutching at the hair on the back of his head. A soft sob of gratitude escaped her throat. “Thank you. Then let’s work together to find—to find—” Her eyes went wide and distant, as if a thought had just occurred to her. “Ahkin, I have an idea!”

  Ahkin grabbed her hand and squeezed. It was difficult to let go of the control, to let the responsibility of such an important choice fall onto someone else’s shoulders. But he also knew he had to. “I trust you.”

  And he smiled, realizing that in the depths of his own heart, he really truly did.

  Chapter

  42

  Yemania froze in place. The Eagle warriors on either side of her stalked closer, unaware their prey was mere yards away. Should she try to run? Hide? Beg? She didn’t really know what she should . . .

  “You there,” one of the warriors called to her. He stepped closer to get a better look at her face. Yemania ducked her head, trying to obscure his view. Run, a voice inside her head screamed at her. Run!

  But they would catch her. She knew she was no match for some of the most elite warriors in the empire.

  A hand closed around her wrist and the warrior wheeled her around to face him. “You . . .” the warrior began, recognition washing over his features. But then his eyes misted over with a silver sheen, and his features went oddly slack. “You . . . you . . . are free to go, miss. Please let us know if you see any sign of the escaped healer.” He dropped her wrist, and Yemania stepped back. Surprise and understanding sending her pulse fluttering.

  “Thank you, I will,” she said. Then she lowered her voice so that the other warriors could not hear her. “Where can I find you?”

  The warrior lifted a finger and pointed north, back toward the temple itself.

  “Thank you.” Yemania rushed past the warriors, some frowning as though they weren’t sure their companion’s decision was the best. But mercifully, none of them stopped her.

  When she rounded the end of the row, another hand found her wrist and yanked her toward the darkness between the two stalls. Her hands flew up and she found them splayed across a tanned, well-defined chest, a necklace of
human finger bones beneath her fingers.

  Yemania let out a small sob of relief and threw her arms around Ochix’s neck. His own arms tightened around her, his face burrowing into her neck as he embraced her.

  “You found me,” she breathed, pulling back and drinking in the sight of his face.

  “I always will,” he said, pressing his lips against hers for a swift kiss. “But we need to get out of here.”

  “I know. We need to go to Miquitz. To Omitl.”

  Ochix frowned. “Why? My father is there, and he’ll be furious I ruined his plan. That’s the last place I should go.”

  “It’s hard to explain, but will you believe me if I say the Mother goddess told me to?”

  He studied her face for a moment and must have read the conviction there, because he finally responded, “I will. If that’s where she told us to go, then go we shall.”

  Yemania squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

  But Ochix arched an eyebrow. “You have to explain to me on the way how you escaped—and with directions from the Mother goddess herself.”

  Yemania smiled. “It’s a long story, but I have a feeling we have a bit of a journey ahead of us, so there will be plenty of time.”

  Ochix showed Yemania how he had sneaked back into the capital city the previous night, and her jaw fell open.

  “You scaled the cliff? In the dark?” Yemania stared down the edge of the volcanic plateau into the jungles below.

  “I couldn’t exactly walk back in through the main gate.” He gave her an exasperated look.

  “You could have died,” Yemania scolded.

  “Well, you were going to die if I didn’t, so I didn’t think too much beyond that.”

  Yemania’s heart swelled at his determination to come back for her. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Don’t thank me just yet, we still need to get back down if we truly want to escape. And then I have an idea that might get us safely into Miquitz, but you may not like it.”

  “Let’s talk about that if we survive this climb down the cliff. How did you find me, by the way?” Yemania secured her bag on her shoulder so that she wouldn’t lose her supplies in their descent.

  “I was watching the temple, waiting for when they’d bring you out for the sacrifice, and then you appeared, bolting down the steps like a spirit from Xibalba was after you. I saw you run into the marketplace and I followed.”

  Yemania blanched. “What were you going to do when they brought me out to sacrifice me?”

  Ochix shrugged. “Again, hadn’t really gotten that far. I was ready to fight my way to you and then . . . make it up from there?”

  Yemania leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his nose, trying not to laugh. “And you would have gotten yourself killed right along with me. Thank goodness my plan worked before you got the chance to enact yours.”

  Ochix boomed a laugh. “As much of a pleasure as I’m sure it would have been to travel the layers of Xibalba together, I must say I prefer maneuvering the land of the living.”

  “Me too. And let’s keep it that way. I’m not a climber, so I’ll need you to show me the safest way down this thing, all right?” She eyed the long distance to the jungle floor.

  “Just keep your eyes on your feet and focus on the present moment. Don’t get too ahead of yourself and don’t look down.” Ochix pulled out a length of rope and tied it around his waist before tossing her the other end. “Picked this up in the market while you were flitting around the stalls like a busy little bee visiting flowers.”

  Yemania turned up her nose. “Well, if we need any of my remedies you will be grateful I was a busy little bee.”

  Ochix chuckled and helped her tie the other end around her own waist. “If you fall, I will catch you.”

  Yemania swallowed hard. “Are you anticipating me falling?”

  “No, but sometimes having that extra assurance of someone there gives you the boost of confidence you need. I think you can do this without me, but I want to be there to support you if you need me.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. She pulled out the little doll Ometeotl had given her and studied the doll’s now joyous face.

  He took a steadying breath and said, “All right. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Yemania and Ochix were both drenched with sweat by the time they reached the base of the cliff. Yemania gasped for breath and wanted to kiss the dirt of the jungle floor. She would never climb another cliff for the rest of her life.

  Ochix untied the rope from around their waists and motioned for her to follow him into the safety of the trees.

  “You are absolutely sure we need to go to Omitl? You wouldn’t rather run to Ehecatl? The Miquitz Mountains are in the opposite direction.”

  Yemania clutched at a stitch in her side. “Yes,” she gasped. “Ometeotl was extremely clear.”

  Ochix’s eyes went wide with wonder. “I still can’t believe the creator goddess herself appeared to you. That is such an unbelievable honor.”

  “Well, she’s fond of you, so take that as a compliment.”

  Ochix stumbled back a step. “She said she’s fond of me? Really?”

  Yemania giggled. “She called you darling, so I imagine that’s a good thing.”

  Ochix smiled as though he’d had too much pulque to drink.

  “But on a more serious note, how are we supposed to get back to Omitl?” She eyed the dense expanse of jungle that spread out before them. “Will they even let us in?”

  Ochix rubbed the back of his neck. “I have an idea to get us in, but I warned you before, I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

  Yemania narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  “I left my delegation on the road not far from here. They are waiting for me to return. If I go with them, I can enter the city with no issues. My father will likely be furious when I return a failure, but there is no way they will let you join us on the journey home unless . . .”

  But she already knew where he was going in his line of thought. “Unless I’m your prisoner?”

  Ochix gave her a sheepish smile.

  Yemania let out a heavy breath. “All right. I think that will work.”

  Ochix arched an eyebrow. “You want to go as my prisoner?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t see any other way to make it there safely. And you won’t let anything happen to me once we get there, right?”

  Ochix’s face went suddenly intense, as though flames burned within his dark eyes. “I would die myself before I let any harm come to you.”

  “The Mother goddess obviously likes you, so that is a good recommendation for me to trust you.” She arched an eyebrow.

  Ochix laughed and kissed her. “All right. Then we know how to get back inside Miquitz.”

  He cut a length of rope from the one they used to climb down the cliff and wrapped it around Yemania’s wrists.

  “I’ve made it loose enough that you can wriggle free in an emergency,” he assured her.

  Yemania nodded. Now that they were actually going through with their plan, she was a little more nervous about it.

  She chewed the inside of her cheek. “They won’t kill me before we get there?”

  Ochix shook his head. “Absolutely not. You will be revered as a divine sacrifice. No one will want to waste a drop of your blood. We will take you to the capital and you will be housed in the temple until the final day of the Nemontemi—so the end of tomorrow. That’s when we gather at the entrance to the underworld and wait for Cizin to emerge. If he does, we offer him a selection of the finest sacrifices we can gather, human and beast and luxury goods, to persuade him to spare the city.”

  “Then I will be offered to Cizin as a sacrifice?” Yemania was sick of everyone trying to use her divine blood to save themselves.

  “Cizin hasn’t emerged in the last
hundred years, so I am not worried about that. Besides, I will set you free before it gets to that point. I promise. I know my way around my city and have many loyal friends willing to help me if I need a quick favor.” He winked at her.

  “All right.” She hoped whatever the reason the Mother goddess needed her there was an important one. Ochix secured her mouth with a gag, tying it loosely like the ropes so she’d be comfortable.

  They stepped out of the underbrush and back onto the main dirt road. After walking for a while, they finally came across the delegation Ochix had come to Tollan with. They waited for him on the side of the road.

  The minor priest that had accompanied them leapt to his feet. “My prince, you return with a captive?”

  Ochix’s voice went hard and cold. “Yes. If they mean to insult us by breaking our alliance, then we might as well take a consolation prize.” He lifted Yemania’s tied hands.

  The thin priest walked around her, assessing. Yemania knew her white dress would make her appear to be commoner. “Is she a peasant?”

  “She is a healer, descended from the god Ixtlilton.”

  The priest frowned. “Why is she not in red? I thought all the Chicome healers wore red?”

  Ochix shrugged. “I think she was a criminal of some kind. I found her trading her red dress for this white one in the marketplace. Guards were tracking her and she was distracted. It made her easy to capture.”

  “We can test her abilities for ourselves when we get back home. I am sick of this place and want to get back to our mountains. If she does prove to possess divine blood, your father should be happy with such a precious captive.”

  “My thoughts as well,” Ochix agreed.

  The priest motioned for the four other members of their delegation to get moving. “We will be there by tomorrow afternoon if we leave now and hurry. I would like to arrive before the end of the Nemontemi to make sure she is part of the offering.”

  “I will keep guard over the captive. I can use my ability if she makes an attempt to escape.” Ochix tapped the side of his head, right next to his eyes, for emphasis.

 

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