Ninth Lord of the Night

by Diana L. Driver

  He laid his head back, closed his eyes, and heaved a sigh of relief. He shifted his position and was rewarded by painful spasms in his lower back.

  Suddenly there was a crashing sound followed by curses. Zack opened his eyes, held his breath and listened. Immediately the jungle lapsed into silence.

  Far away, but coming in his direction, was the flashlight beam. It ran up and down over the vegetation, skirting the edges and fading away, then coming to center once again. It would dim and then brighten, but with each passing moment it came nearer and nearer to his position.

  Zack sat, immobile, watching in horror. It came within a few feet of his left foot, and then stopped.

  “Kid, I know you’re out here,” the smuggler called. “I’m going to find you. And, when I do, I’m going cut your balls off.” Then, there was a pause. “This ain’t no joke, son. And, I am not fucking amused.”

  Zack turned his head slightly, looking for cover, and seeing none. Afraid that any movement might reveal his location, he pressed his body deeper into the dirt.

  “You know what I did to Albie,” Raymond muttered. “And, that bastard didn’t give me nearly as much trouble as you’ve given me. I swear I’m going gut you and feed your fucking intestines to the pigs.”

  Once again the sky opened up, dousing them in thick, huge drops. Zack felt a tickle in his throat and swallowed the urge to cough; his eyes still glued on the circle of light now only inches away.

  Then the flashlight’s beam shot skywards accompanied by the sound of broken branches and an, “oomph!” followed by a series of curses. There were more curses, but they came from further away and the light began moving away from him. Finally, Raymond’s voice became inaudible and the light totally disappeared. Zack listened for what seemed like an eternity, but heard nothing more.

  Not until after the jungle noises had resumed did he attempt to move. He’d been motionless for so long that his muscles cramped when he changed position. Tears filled his eyes and merged with the falling rain. He turned over and pulled himself along at a snail’s pace, every movement bringing new pain. Every few seconds he’d stop and listen, but he heard nothing other than normal jungle sounds.

  Then the vegetation gave way and he found himself at the mouth of a cave. Once inside he continued his shuffling crawl until he was so far back that he couldn’t be discovered just by chance. He let his backpack slip from his shoulder, fell on his side and blacked out.

  He woke to the smell of smoke. Through the smoky cloud he could see the flickering orange-red glow of a fire. Around the fire three men sat crossed-legged on woven mats. They chanted softly and every now and then they would throw something into the flames, causing it to blaze up.

  The men wore only loincloths. Around their necks hung brightly colored feathers, beads, and a small leather bag. Off to the side was what looked like a folded up pile of clothes.

  The men turned their heads, looking towards the mouth of the cave. Zack looked, too.

  At the cave’s entrance stood the massive jaguar. His gold and black coat shimmered in the firelight and his amber eyes glowed. He was covered in blood from his right shoulder, along his side and down his right leg. Slowly, the big cat limped painfully over to the fire, closed his eyes and collapsed. Still chanting, the men removed the leather bags from around their necks and took something out. They began rubbing the animal, gently wiping off the blood and covering the wounds with the ointment.

  Zack’s eyes stung from the thick smoke seeping into the tunnel. Once again, tears flowed down his cheeks. He wiped his eyes and through his blurred vision he saw the slow motion transformation of the majestic jaguar into the naked body of Chujal. Clouds of acrid smoke filled his lungs and he was engulfed in a fit of coughing. His ribs exploded in pain and then, mercifully, he fell into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  When Zack opened his eyes again it was late morning and he was back in his room. His head was pounding, his body sore. Clifton sat in a chair beside him and Kyle stood by the door.

  “You’re awake,” Clifton said. “How do you feel?”

  Pain washed over him. “I hurt,” Zack groaned. “I hurt a lot.”

  “I bet you do,” Clifton said with sympathy. “You look like you’ve had the bloody hell beat out of you.”

  “What happened to you?” Kyle asked.

  Zack’s mind began to clear. “I’m not sure,” he said. His backpack was on the dresser. He was in his bed. Naked. “How did I get here?”

  “Mrs. Sanchez found you this morning on the veranda. You were laying on a mat, covered up with this.” Clifton handed Zack a piece of woven fabric. “It’s a Mayan shaman cloak, if you don’t already know.”

  “No, I didn’t know,” Zack said, fingering the rough multi-colored material.

  “This was tied around your neck.” Clifton dropped a small object into Zack’s palm. “You were clutching it in your hand.”

  On a long strip of leather hung the head of a snarling jaguar carved out of green jade. Zack looked at his uncle. “I don’t remember this at all,” he said truthfully. “I don’t know where this came from.”

  “You don’t know?” Clifton sounded dubious. “I find that hard to believe.”

  Zack shook his head. “Is it valuable?”

  “Very,” Clifton answered. “It is a very fine piece of jade, and the carving is exquisite. It’s carved in the ancient Maya style, but it isn’t an ancient Maya artifact.”

  “Does that mean I get to keep it?”

  “It would be easier for me to answer that question if I knew where you got it,” Clifton answered. “How about your bruises? How’d you get those?”

  Zack slipped the pendant around his neck. For a moment he thought about blurting everything out. He could tell his uncle about the murder, the smuggler, the map, and about the holy book. He could even tell him about the run in he’d had with the mustached man. But how about the part where the jaguar saved his life? He also seriously doubted if anyone would believe he’d seen the wounded jaguar transformed into a human. That would be expecting a little too much and still wouldn’t explain the cloak or the jade pendant.

  “Nobody,” Zack lied. “Nobody beat me up. I fell down some steps in the dark, that’s all.”

  “Zack,” Clifton urged. “Level with me.”

  “I am.”

  “Kyle would you mind leaving us for a few minutes?” Clifton asked.

  Kyle got to his feet. “Sure,” he answered.

  “The steps were wet. I lost my footing and simply slipped,” Zack blurted as soon as Kyle closed the door.

  “Why were you out in the ruins to begin with?” Clifton asked.

  “To enjoy my last night in Tikal, what do you think?”

  “In that raging storm?” Clifton asked. Zack didn’t answer and his uncle stood up. “Fine. I’m tired of messing with you.”

  “Am I still going home today?”

  “You’re in no shape to travel.” Clifton left the room and Zack heard him knock on Kyle’s door. “Watch him, don’t let him out of your sight.”

  “I don’t want to be his warden,” Kyle answered. “Why don’t you just back off?”

  “I will when he tells me the truth.”

  Kyle peered into Zack’s room.

  “He doesn’t believe I fell down a flight of steps,” Zack explained.

  “Did you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, where did you get this pendant thing? Did you steal it? Or was it a gift?”

  “I didn’t steal it, but I don’t know why anyone would be giving me a present.”

  And he didn’t either. The Maya medicine man had saved his life. Zack should be giving him a gift, not the other way around.

  “Look,” Zack said. “I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t you go back to your room? All I want is a shower.”

  As soon as Zack was alone he forced himself out of bed. It was embarrassing to think of Mrs. Sanchez finding him like this on the doorstep. And,
of his uncle and brother putting him into bed. A dried chocolate-colored plaster covered the bruises and abrasions on his face, chest, and torso. It flaked off as he touched it. He had a gash above his right eyebrow and a swollen lower lip and chin. The left side of his face, from his cheekbone to his chin, was red and raw from sliding over the rough limestone floor and his right jaw was purple with bruises. He told himself to look on the bright side; there was no shiner and he sort of resembled Bruce Willis in the movie, Die Hard.

  As he stood in the shower, he replayed the events of the previous night over and over in his mind. The scene in the cave could be explained away as a hallucination brought on by fear and his physical condition, although he believed in his heart that what he’d seen had actually happened. But the jaguar’s assault on the smuggler was completely different. The jaguar had saved his life and that was no hallucination. Somewhere the mustached man was also nursing a set of scratches and wounds.

  It took a long time for him to get dressed. Putting on a shirt was painful, jeans were agonizing, but bending over to pull on his socks and tie his tennis shoes was pure torture. He got the last shoe laced and found as he straightened up that the pain wasn’t so bad after that. In fact, he surmised, he should be feeling a lot worse.

  Sam tapped on the door and without waiting for an answer pushed it open. “What do you want?” he asked, standing up.

  “I’m just checking on you.” She reached out for him.

  He backed away. “Don’t touch me,” he warned. “Every single part of my body hurts.”

  “Every part?” she asked provocatively.

  “Almost every part,” he conceded, “Sam, why don’t you go play with Kyle and Bruce? Maybe they want to play touch football or something.”

  She left in a fury. Life’s rough, he thought, sometimes you just don’t get what you want.

  ###

  His uncle hadn’t chained him to the bedpost and he had places to go and things to do, well one thing, anyway. “I’m out of here,” he murmured, grabbing his backpack and heading out the door.

  The storms had passed. The day was hot and steamy. He took the shorter path to the ruins, the path that brought him directly to the East Plaza and the main staircase of the Central Acropolis. He didn’t pause when he reached the steps, and bounded up to the summit. When he reached the mazes of buildings and courtyards that made up the Central Acropolis he found the courtyard where he’d been the night before and retrieved his hat and flashlight. Then, he went right to the rear of the structure. He knew his way around now.

  Zack hesitated a moment at the retaining wall. Below him were broken branches and muddy footprints. He’d fallen over forty feet.

  He turned and climbed up and down staircases until he reached the palace that housed the whistling room. He waited in the sunlight and took a long deep breath before entering the building. This time he would be in control. There would be no visions, no memories to scare him off. He took out his flashlight, bolstered his courage and went inside.

  The room was as dark and musty as before. He shined his flashlight over every inch of the floor, walls, and ceiling. Nothing had been disturbed. The book had to be here. He pushed against the limestone bricks trying to find one that was a little loose. If he hadn’t been so positive that the book existed; he never would never have had the patience to find it. He was on the last wall when he felt a stone give. Slowly, he rocked it back and forth, applying gentle pressure until it was loose enough to extract. He pulled it out and laid the heavy piece of limestone on the floor.

  Behind the cavity left by the stone, was a wooden box. Gently, he lifted it out and placed it on the bench. Sitting down beside it, he took off the lid.

  The contents of the box were what could only be a book. Wooden boards about eleven inches wide formed the outside covers. The inner pages were made from tree bark and coated with some kind of plaster or resin. The folded pages were filled with pictures and glyphs. Zack could only guess the length the pages would be if they were unfolded. He didn’t think that was for him to do. Not only might he damage the book, but its secrets weren’t for his eyes. He placed the codex into its protective wooden box and put the box in his backpack. Then, he replaced the piece of stone back in the wall, tamping down the edges around it so it looked as if it hadn’t been disturbed.

  He fingered the jaguar pendant hanging around his neck. If he gave this book to his uncle everyone would just think he’d stolen it to begin with. On the other hand, if Zack had learned anything it was that appearances were definitely deceiving. The only history the world had of the Maya people was one of savagery and cruelty. So much had been taken from them. So little given back. Great pieces of their own identity were missing and lost. Zack had seen one side of the Maya in his terrible visions, but now he had an insight into the other side of these mysterious people. Just like any ancient civilization, there was more to them than their savagery.

  The jaguar had saved his life, and he owed him the highest debt one person could owe another. “To hell with fortune and glory,” Zack said.

  He met up with Maria as he was bounding down the main stairway of the Central Acropolis.

  “What happened to you!” she blurted, staring at him. “You look terrible. Like a gorilla stomped on your face.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” he grinned. “I needed that.”

  “I heard you got hurt last night, but I never imagined . . . are you all right?”

  “I’ll be fine if no one else slugs me.”

  Maria looked skeptical. “Kyle said you fell down some stairs.”

  “Yeah, well. Kyle wasn’t there. He doesn’t know.” Zack grabbed Maria’s hand. “I have something to show you. Come with me.”

  To his surprise, she didn’t argue, but followed right along. He led her up the steps of the Central Acropolis and through the plazas and palaces unto they came to the small courtyard where he’d been the night before.

  “Maria,” he said. “Maria, I found the codex.”

  Her eyes widened. “You did! Where is it?”

  “Someplace safe,” he lied.

  “This is incredible,” she said. “Dr. Collins is absolutely going to flip.”

  “I’m not giving it to Dr. Collins,” Zack stated flatly.

  She pressed her lips together and jerked her hands free. “What! You have to! You don’t have any choice!”

  Zack rubbed pendant hanging around his neck. “Yes, I do. And they can’t have the book.”

  “You are involved in the smuggling!” she said furiously. “Why tell me? I won’t help you. I’ll turn you in to the police.”

  “Maria, I don’t want to steal it. I want to give it to the Maya people.” He went over to where the jaguar had spilled his blood. The rains had washed all traces of the blood away. “Last night a smuggler tried to kill me. He was about to cut me up in little pieces when a jaguar jumped him.” Zack pointed to the top of the steps. “The jaguar was crouched up there, I was down here. The jaguar leapt over me and attacked the smuggler. The jaguar got shot protecting me.”

  “Go on.”

  “I ran to the wall at the back of the Acropolis, jumped into the ravine, and got lost in the jungle. I found a cave and crawled inside where I passed out. When I woke up there were three Mayan medicine men sitting around a fire.”

  He paused letting this soak in. If anyone could believe the next part of his story he knew it would only be Maria.

  “You know what you told me about human to animal transformation?”

  Maria nodded in anticipation.

  “The jaguar limped into the cave. He was hurt and bleeding. He laid down by the fire and the three men rubbed him with some kind of cream. Maria, I saw the jaguar change into a person.” He paused dramatically. “I saw the jaguar change into Chajul.”

  Maria stared at him. “No,” she whispered.

  “Yes.” Zack continued, “If I give this holy book to my uncle or Dr. Collins then the Maya might not ever get to see it. It will be sent to som
e university to be studied for years and years. No telling when, or even if, the Maya people will ever learn about what’s written inside. But, if I give it to the Mayan chimán, then he can decide whether or not it should be shared with the world.”

  “Do you know what you’re giving up?” Maria’s asked. “You could be famous, be interviewed by reporters for magazines, be a guest on talk-shows.”

  “Maria,” Zack muttered. “If it’s found in my possession, it will only get me dead.”

  She threw her arms around his neck. He stiffened and drew back. Quickly she released him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I forgot. I really am sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he assured her. He set his backpack on the step and sat next to it. She joined him, giving him plenty of space. “I have a plan but you’ll have to help me with it.”

  “I’ll do anything I can,” she said.

  He leaned back against the upper step. “I want to find the cave where I was last night.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the chimán might be there.”

  “You think?”

  “That’s where the others were waiting for him.” He put his hand on hers. “Will you help me find it?” She nodded and he pulled her to her feet. “There’s no time like the present.”

  They left the small courtyard and wound their way through the mazes of plazas and buildings until they reached the retaining wall at the rear of the Central Acropolis. They climbed on top of it and gazed out into the jungle.

  “You jumped from here?” Maria asked in amazement.

  Zack nodded and pointed at a group of crumpled ferns. “I must have landed on those bushes.” Looking around he saw an elevated walkway that ran along the side of the ravine, paralleling the acropolis. “Wish I’d known this was here last night.”

  “Your not knowing about it might have been what saved your life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s a well traveled path, probably the man after you went down to the ravine from that walkway. No one in his right mind would jump the way you did, especially at night.”