Serpent and Storm

by Marella Sands

  The sound echoed weirdly in the cave, but it seemed strongest behind him. Sky Knife turned and his heart leaped for joy.

  There, on the other side of the neck of the tunnel, stood Deer and Whiskers-of-Rat. Deer held Sky Knife’s sacrificial knife and scratched it against the invisible barrier that trapped Sky Knife in the cave with the Guardian.

  Sky Knife climbed to his feet and stumbled over to the tunnel entrance. Deer’s mouth was moving, but Sky Knife heard nothing but the awful screech of the obsidian Hand of God against the Guardian’s barrier.

  Sky Knife reached for the knife even though he knew the barrier stood in his way. But the knife was his, or he belonged to it—it had chosen him over another, long ago. Together, he and the knife had sent many souls to the gods, both strangers and friends. He and the knife were bound together by blood and spirit.

  The terrible stinging shot up Sky Knife’s arm again, but it wasn’t quite as bad this time. His questing finger felt the tip of the black glass blade and the knife came to his hand eagerly.

  Sky Knife drew his hand back across the barrier. The screeching stopped as the obsidian passed through. Sky Knife hefted the blade and turned to face the Guardian.

  The skinless man collapsed in a heap, limbs still twitching. It struggled to get its feet under it.

  Sky Knife didn’t give the Guardian the chance. He ran to the figure and shoved the knife up under its rib cage toward the heart.

  The knife parted the possessed flesh as easily as it always sliced through the body of a sacrifice. Sky Knife withdrew the knife and reached into the Guardian’s chest. He groped through liver and lungs until he found the solid ball of muscle in the center of the chest.

  Sky Knife jerked the heart out. The Guardian hissed and crawled away from him. Slowly, its head sank to the floor.

  “You have done well, little one,” it said. “Perhaps you are worthy to approach the Center.”

  The Guardian collapsed. A strange crackling sound came from the remains of the body and the limbs jerked, distorted, as the bones inside snapped themselves into pieces.

  Then the stench of feces and vomit dissipated. In its place arose the floral scent Sky Knife associated with an accepted sacrifice. The smell of sorcery and the god’s approval. The heart, which had been still and cold in Sky Knife’s hand, warmed and began to beat soundly. Sky Knife sank to his knees and lifted the heart over his head.

  “Itzamna,” he prayed. “Thank you for your kindness to your servant. Remain with me and continue to give me your strength and your help.”

  The heart in his hand throbbed wildly, and warmth and power flowed from it into Sky Knife. He opened his eyes and looked over at Black Coyote. The boy had wrapped his arms around his knees and stared at Sky Knife with wide, frightened eyes.

  Sky Knife let the power flow through him. He reached out with it and slammed it into the barrier that kept Black Coyote prisoner.

  The barrier shattered and dissipated as if it had never been.

  “No!” shouted Dark Lightning from his hiding place behind the three dead men.

  With another flick of his power, Sky Knife smashed the barrier between him and the tunnel.

  “Little Weed!” said Deer. The dwarf rushed into the room.

  “Bibi!” Black Coyote shouted the name as if it were a charm. Deer pulled him close. Black Coyote sobbed into Deer’s chest.

  The power flowed through Sky Knife and left him, weak but otherwise all right. In his hand, the heart had turned into a bluish dust that spilled onto the floor and scattered around the cavern.

  Dark Lightning ran for the tunnel, but Whiskers-of-Rat stood in the way.

  “Where do you think you’re going? There’s no ballgame today,” said Whiskers-of-Rat. “But then, I don’t think you need worry about playing the ballgame ever again.”

  21

  Dark Lightning looked over to where a spear lay on the floor. Sky Knife pointed his blade at the ballplayer. “Don’t,” he told the ballplayer. “You’ll come with us and answer to your sister—and the new king.”

  Dark Lightning laughed. “I don’t think so,” he said. “By now, my followers have taken the city. It just remains for me to make myself king and wed my sister.”

  “Abomination,” said Whiskers-of-Rat. He was echoed by Deer. “The gods will destroy the city if you do as you plan,” continued the guide. “The boy is king—or, if your followers kill him, his uncle shall be king. You cannot ascend the mat.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” said Dark Lightning. “You’ll see.”

  Sky Knife resisted an impulse to slap the smug look off Dark Lightning’s face. “Perhaps,” he said. “Shall we find out? Deer—stay close to Black Coyote.” Sky Knife picked up a spear and handed it to Whiskers-of-Rat. “You keep an eye on Dark Lightning.”

  Whiskers-of-Rat leaned over to whisper in Sky Knife’s ear. “Very well,” he said. “But later, you have to tell me what happened here.”

  “You saw…” began Sky Knife.

  “The last thing I remember before I found myself standing here,” said the guide, “was getting on my knees and crawling through a short section of tunnel. How long ago was that? What happened?”

  “A while. And the Guardian happened,” said Sky Knife. “It seems the womb of the goddess is not without its defenses. I’ll tell you the whole story later. For now, let’s just get out of here.”

  “Right.”

  Sky Knife handed Whiskers-of-Rat the spear. “Wait,” he said. “Take that jewelry off him and give it back to the dead. It’s not ours to take out of here.”

  Whiskers-of-Rat prodded Dark Lightning with the spear point. The ballplayer slowly removed the necklaces, bracelets, and anklets he had taken to protect himself. Sky Knife replaced his own knife in its deerskin bag and went to Deer and Black Coyote while Dark Lightning replaced the jewelry.

  “Who are those men, Bibi?” asked Black Coyote.

  Deer glanced over to the dead men. “It’s said that, a long time ago, there was an oracle here. And that men could enter the tunnel without fear and ask a question of the oracle. But only the oracle could set foot in the cave itself. Anyone else who came in died.”

  “What’s an oracle?”

  Deer hugged the boy. “A wise man,” he said.

  Dark Lightning finished replacing the jewelry. Sky Knife nodded to Deer and Whiskers-of-Rat. “All right, let’s go.”

  “One more thing,” said Whiskers-of-Rat. “Someone take my sash and bind this man’s hands.”

  Deer stood. “It will be my pleasure.”

  Deer tied Dark Lightning’s hands quickly and surely. Dark Lightning winced—apparently Deer had no compunction about tying the knots very tight—but said nothing.

  Sky Knife gestured for the others to precede him just in case the necklace he wore was still offering protection. When the others were out, he stepped back into the tunnel.

  A loud boom resounded throughout the cavern behind him the moment the necklace passed the neck of the tunnel, and a foul wind blew against Sky Knife’s back for a moment. All light went out. Sky Knife turned around, but the cavern was dark, the smell of blood and offal fading. Not even the light from the oil lamps or the body of the ballplayer at the verge could be seen.

  “It’s dark, Bibi,” cried Black Coyote. “Make it light.”

  Sky Knife concentrated on forming a ball of light, but he was tired. He felt the power within him struggling against his control. Sky Knife took a deep breath and concentrated harder. Finally, a blue ball of light shimmered into existence over his head.

  Sky Knife sagged against the wall.

  “Sky Knife?” asked Deer.

  “I’ll be all right,” he said. “Go on.”

  The trip back to the entrance took very little time, although Dark Lightning had to be prodded most of the way. At the bottom of the steps, Sky Knife called a halt.

  “Let’s see what’s waiting for us up there,” he said. Slowly Sky Knife climbed the steps. His legs thre
atened to give way beneath him at any moment, but Sky Knife held onto his pride and kept himself on his feet.

  The great avenue was deserted. From the position of the stars, it was still several hours to dawn.

  “Come on up,” said Sky Knife. One by one, the others came up out of the pit.

  Sky Knife let go his hold of the blue light and sank to his knees. “I have to rest a moment,” he said, thinking without pleasure of the half mile that separated them from the safety of the palace.

  “Of course,” said Deer. “But let’s move away a bit first. If Dark Lightning is right and his people are in control of the city, they might have seen the light. It would be safer to be hidden behind one of the smaller temples.”

  “All right,” said Sky Knife. Deer came over and offered a shoulder. Sky Knife leaned on the other man to push himself to his feet.

  Whiskers-of-Rat poked Dark Lightning. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Don’t get too eager to use that spear,” said Dark Lightning. “When I’m king, you’ll regret your choice of friends.”

  “What friends?” asked Whiskers-of-Rat. “The Mayan priest is my client and he hasn’t paid me yet.”

  “Whatever he’s paying you, you could do better.”

  Whiskers-of-Rat laughed. “With you? A man who would kill his sister’s husband, threaten her child, and then ascend the mat by marrying his sister? I hardly think I could do worse than choose to follow you, eh?”

  Dark Lightning bristled. “I didn’t kill the king,” he said. “It was fortunate for me he died—my plans could then proceed more quickly. But I didn’t kill him.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” said Whiskers-of-Rat. “Come on.” He prodded the ballplayer again. Dark Lightning walked at spearpoint, chin high, the smug look still firmly planted on his face.

  Deer led the group north past several dark and deserted temples. Sky Knife wondered if he planned to take them straight to the palace without a stop. Sky Knife’s knees wobbled so much he knew he couldn’t make the entire distance unaided.

  Finally, Deer turned right, in between two small temples. He gestured for the others to follow him.

  Sky Knife stepped forward, but Deer jumped back. “Run!” he shouted.

  Warriors poured out from around the temple and surrounded the group before any of them could obey. A man with a peccary tattoo stepped forward. “Untie the king,” he said.

  Sky Knife stared at the man, sure he had seen him before somewhere.

  “Mirror,” said Deer, “you are a traitor.”

  The warrior with the peccary tattoo smiled. “Not the way I see it.”

  Sky Knife remembered now. Mirror had been one of the three army commanders who had reported to Grasping Fire earlier. He had been trusted to be in the company of Grasping Fire and Jaguar’s Daughter. Sky Knife’s heart sank. Perhaps all the army commanders had been traitors. Anything could have happened to the remainder of the king’s family while he had been rescuing the king.

  A warrior stepped forward to untie Dark Lightning. Another grabbed the spear from Whiskers-of-Rat.

  “Take the king and the twin,” said Dark Lightning. “Kill the others.”

  A warrior made a grab for Black Coyote, who darted to Deer. “Bibi!” he cried. Another warrior stepped forward and shoved Deer aside while the first grabbed the boy.

  Sky Knife raised his hands over his head. “Itzamna!” he cried. “Aid me now!” Sky Knife closed his eyes and emptied his mind. A tingle started at his neck and spread toward his outstretched hands. Warmth and fire poured from his fingers.

  Someone screamed. Sky Knife opened his eyes. Blue snakes flew through the air, striking at the heads of the warriors and Dark Lightning. The warriors batted at them and screamed as the snakes struck. But the snakes of light were already fading. Sky Knife darted forward with the last of his strength and grabbed Black Coyote, shoving him into the arms of Whiskers-of-Rat.

  “Take the king to his mother!”

  Whiskers-of-Rat dashed away without reply. Sky Knife sank to his knees and the snakes of light fizzled away.

  “Mayan priest—what evil is this?” shouted Dark Lightning in the resulting darkness.

  “We have the twin,” said one of the warriors.

  “What of the boy?”

  A hubbub of voices rose up, sounding vaguely apologetic.

  “What was that?” asked Dark Lightning. “I asked, what of the boy?”

  “He, uh, he has escaped,” said Mirror. “Along with the guide. They ran off while we were under attack.”

  “Attack?” asked Dark Lightning. “That was just a priest’s trick, and an iguana priest’s trick at that. We have the protection of the Masked One—there is no reason to fear his lizard god, you fool.”

  “Shall we kill them now?”

  “No,” said Dark Lightning. “Without the king, we may need to alter our plans. The twin could prove useful—they can’t have their ascension ceremony without him. And as long as he lives, they can’t choose another twin.”

  “And the priest?”

  “I’ve changed my mind. He’s fouled my plans tonight at every turn. I want him to pay. Bring him.”

  Large calloused hands grabbed Sky Knife roughly and pulled him along. A great roaring rose in Sky Knife’s ears and spots danced in front of his eyes. Sky Knife struggled, but the effort was too much. He let the darkness take him.

  22

  Cold water splashed on Sky Knife’s face. He sputtered and opened his eyes.

  Sky Knife was on his back on the ground. Dark Lightning and Mirror stood over him, their tall figures outlined in the gray light of early dawn. Sky Knife tried to move, but his wrists and ankles were tied. He glanced over to his wrist. It had been fastened to a stake by a leather cord. So was his other wrist.

  A cool morning breeze brushed against him. Sky Knife shivered and realized he was naked. A lock of hair blew across his face. The movement of the hair hurt. Sky Knife winced. His scalp felt very tender. Apparently, his captors had not been gentle in removing his headdress.

  “Where are we?” he asked. From his vantage point, all he saw were the shallow walls of some kind of pit.

  “Somewhere,” said Dark Lightning. “It’s hardly important for you to know more than that.”

  “Do you really want to take the time to do this?” asked Mirror. “We don’t have control of the entire city yet.”

  “There’s nothing for us to do for a while but wait for the reports to come in,” said Dark Lightning. His hair had been bound on top of his head again. “It’s just a matter of time. Grasping Fire has no idea what to do and my sister isn’t any better.”

  “But they won’t give up as long as they have the boy,” said Mirror. “We should strike harder and get them now.”

  Dark Lightning looked over to his companion. “And I say we will not. My sister will see the justice in my claim sooner or later.”

  “She isn’t ruling now—Grasping Fire is,” said Mirror.

  “Then she’ll have to make him see reason,” said Dark Lightning. “I think our offer was exceedingly generous.”

  “Too generous. You cannot allow Grasping Fire or the boy to live,” said Mirror. “You must end the line of Forked-Tongue Serpent and set up your own dynasty.”

  Dark Lightning shook his head. “My sister will never marry me if I harm her son. He will have to live out his life in our home village and never return here.”

  Mirror grimaced and shook his head. “Fine. You’re the king,” he said. “But this had better work.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Hardly, since if you fail, I fail,” said Mirror. “I just hope you realize the danger in leaving even one of your enemies alive.”

  “I have considered it,” said Dark Lightning. “Very carefully.”

  Mirror threw out his hands in frustration and stomped off. Dark Lightning knelt by Sky Knife.

  “So, we have a little time, priest,” he said. “What would you like to do first?”

/>   “Where’s Deer?” Sky Knife licked a few drops of water off his lips with a thick tongue. When had he last had something to drink? He couldn’t remember. And he had done a lot of sorcery since. Normally, he needed to eat, drink, and sleep after exerting his powers. But Sky Knife said nothing about his thirst. No doubt Dark Lightning would be thrilled to hear of it.

  “He’s safe for the moment,” said Dark Lightning. “My sister’s plans can’t proceed without him, so she is stymied while we hold him alive.”

  Sky Knife looked into the dark eyes of Dark Lightning. Fear lurked in them. Fear and hate. But not strength. No matter that the other man plotted against the king, he just didn’t seem to fit the mold of power-mad villain.

  “You said you didn’t kill the king,” said Sky Knife. “Is that true?”

  Dark Lightning regarded him a moment. “Yes. Why? Are you prepared to believe me?”

  Sky Knife tried to shrug, failed. “I don’t know,” he said. “You don’t seem like a man who kills easily. In fact, you don’t seem like a man who plans to take over a city, either.”

  Fear crossed Dark Lightning’s face. “What do you mean by that?”

  The fear confirmed Sky Knife’s suspicion. “Who killed the king?” he asked. “Who planned this for you? Who convinced you that betraying your sister was the right thing to do? Who suggested taking Jaguar’s Daughter as wife?”

  Dark Lightning kicked Sky Knife in the ribs. Sky Knife grunted as the pain in his side radiated all over his body. “I did it all,” insisted Dark Lightning. “And my sister—Thistle—will be my mate because that way our family will own the mat of rulership doubly securely.”

  “Thistle?”

  “Her childhood name,” said Dark Lightning. “She gave it up to be the Jaguar’s Daughter—she chose the protection of the Spotted Jaguar over the Masked One. She will see the error of her ways and take up the name that is rightfully hers.”

  Sky Knife shook his head. “It isn’t that easy to give up the protection of a god.”

  “The Masked One is greater than the Spotted Jaguar. He will have to be content with forfeiting his protection of my sister in deference to the Masked One. You won’t live to see any of this. Perhaps I haven’t killed a man before, but I’m ready to start with you.”