Brooks stood at my dog’s side scowling.
A dangerous growl sounded from Rosie’s throat. Brooks leaned closer, keeping her hawk eyes leveled on Ms. Cab. Then, in an even but angry voice, she said, “DEAD.”
Flames erupted from Rosie’s eyes and mouth. I rolled to my knees.
Just in time to see a cyclone of blue fire swallow Ms. Cab.
Mr. O cried, “¡Mi amor!”
Mangoes tumbled across the patio. Birds scattered from the trees. Bright blue flames engulfed Ms. Cab as her screams rose into the air.
“No!” I threw myself on top of her to try to extinguish the blaze. The moment I grabbed hold of her, the flames twisted tightly around me, a hurricane of heat. I could feel my strength returning, and all the cold melted away as the fire raced through my blood, healing me.
But where was Ms. Cab? Time slowed—maybe it stopped. The blue fire began to pulse. And then came the same whispering voice I’d heard last night.
Eating the chocolate was a bad idea.
Who are you? I asked telepathically.
You’ll find out soon enough.
The flames died, and the first thing I saw was Monster Cab. Her face was melting off in waxy-looking chunks. I jumped back, watching in stunned silence as columns of shadowy smoke rose into the air.
“¿Qué es eso?” Mr. O breathed. “Where is mi amor?”
“An imposter,” Brooks hissed. “I knew it.”
The thing’s skin dripped to the ground in a sizzling heap of goop that smelled like canned spinach and burning hair. All that was left of Monster Cab was a lumpy statue made of hard, cracked mud, its expression frozen with terrified eyes and a wide contorted mouth.
My head was spinning. My ears rang, and my bones vibrated. Who was that guy talking to me? You’ll find out soon enough? I already didn’t like him.
Brooks rushed over and socked me in the arm. “I told you not to come here!”
A loud racket came from inside the house, like someone had knocked over a whole shelf of encyclopedias. We all rushed in. The small sala was quiet. Muddy footprints led us around the stacks of books and into the sunny blue kitchen, where the refrigerator was lying on its side. And behind it? Ren and the real Ms. Cab were sitting on the floor, tied back-to-back. Their hands and feet were bound, and their mouths were gagged with dishcloths.
“Ren!” I blurted.
“¡Mi amor!” Mr. O cried.
We freed them quickly and helped them up. Ren rubbed her wrists. “It’s all my fault…. I should have waited—”
“For us!” Brooks grumbled.
Mr. O put his arm around Ms. Cab. “Antonia…Gracias a Dios.”
Ms. Cab looked like she might hug him, but then she scowled and marched back outside to take a look at the burned statue. “First I’m turned into a chicken, then I’m gagged and tied up by a mud person who left tracks all over my house!”
Ren stared at what was left of the creepy version of Ms. Cab. “I even tried to get the shadows to untie us, but nothing worked,” she said. She was wearing some of Brooks’s clothes: a plain green T-shirt and a pair of jean shorts that were too big and hung loosely on her small frame.
“What happened to you anyways, Zane?” Brooks said with a huff.
“I…It…poisoned me!” My mind was still spinning.
“That thing could’ve killed you guys,” Brooks said, looking from me to Ren and Ms. Cab.
“Why didn’t it kill you, Ms. Cab?” I hated to be so blunt, but that was usually the way things happened in the Maya world.
“When a mud person impersonates someone,” Ms. Cab said, “they need to keep that human alive and close by.” She shook her head. “Really, Zane! How could you not notice it wasn’t me?”
Maybe because it looked just like you! I wanted to shout. Except for the brown makeup and cracking skin. Okay, maybe I should’ve noticed sooner. “Uh, sorry?”
“That fake Ms. Cab,” Ren groaned. “She tricked me, too. Told me she had information to help me.”
“Yeah, well get used to it,” Brooks warned. “Maya supernaturals can be wicked cunning.”
Rosie sniffed around, her ears pricking and her muscles flexing.
I leaned against Fuego, feeling a little weak. “Anyone want to tell me what the heck a mud person is and where this one came from?”
Brooks said, “Do you remember the Maya gods’ first creation?”
“They made humans from mud,” I said. “But the people ended up being dumb and weak, so the gods destroyed them.” Then it clicked. “Are you saying…this was some ancient mud person?”
“No,” Brooks said. “This one was freshly made, but the question is, who created it and why?”
“Obviously, the gods,” I said, because they were usually behind evil stuff.
Ms. Cab shook her head. “This work is too sloppy for the gods,” she said. “Definitely a supernatural, though, because that thing was coated with so much raw magic, it rattled my very bones.” Rubbing her forehead, she added, “I haven’t heard of an attempt at a mud person in over a century, mostly because they’re so unreliable—which tells me that whoever sent this one is an amateur.”
Ha! It had seemed pretty legit to me. “Yep, that rules out the gods.”
“Someone wanted to get to Zane…” muttered Brooks, still puzzling it out.
It creeped me out that a supernatural had laid a trap for me. How had they found me? I glanced at Ren, who was petting Rosie. Did the godborn have something to do with it?
Ms. Cab went on to tell us how she’d woken up at midnight to the mud monster standing over her bed. She’d tried to fight it off, but it overpowered her. The thing tied her up, took her exact measurements, and stole her voice. “Then it stayed up all night watching infomercials and talk shows,” she cried. “It was absolute torture listening to it practice talking in the mirror.”
So that’s why the creature had seemed like a really bad talk show host. I’d never get used to what seemed to be the unlimited boundaries of Maya magic. And what was up with those creepy beetles? And those images that had flashed through my mind? I was now sure they were of places in New Mexico.
Ms. Cab collapsed into a chair as her birds returned to the trees, squawking and flapping their wings wildly. “Yes, I know, but I’m safe now,” she told them. Then she turned to the rest of us. “If some wicked force came for Zane, then he’s been compromised. Someone knows he’s alive, and one way or another they will find their way onto this isla. And if they discover Ren’s a godborn, too…”
My mouth fell open. “You can see that…?”
Mr. O let out a low whistle. “La otra godborn…”
Ren looked at me. “When our hands were tied together, I felt so helpless. Then I remembered how you had used telepathy, Zane, so I…I tried it. I mean, Ms. Cab and I had to make an escape plan.”
Rosie grumbled while Brooks patted her and looked around suspiciously.
“At first the telepathy didn’t work,” Ren continued. “But I concentrated really hard, and then Ms. Cab’s voice flew into my mind like…like the wind. I told her about me.”
“Tengo muchas preguntas,” said Mr. O. “First, why was that thing here?”
Ms. Cab removed some seed from her pocket and scattered it on the ground for the birds. “Tell us everything, Zane.”
A few minutes later, I’d recounted all the grisly details of what had happened between me and the mud thing.
Brooks went over to the table, and examined a chocolate square. “Clever.”
Mr. O lifted the plate and spilled the remaining candy into his sack. “I will test it. See what I can learn.” Even though Mr. O didn’t have his greenhouse anymore, he still grew peppers, and he’d expanded to herbs and other plants. If anyone could figure out the poison’s properties, it was him.
Ren raised an eyebrow. “What were the bugs mapping?”
“I don’t know,” Ms. Cab said. Her face filled with more fear than when we were planning to stop the god of deat
h. At least then we knew what we were up against. But now? There was something infinitely more terrifying in the not knowing.
“Maybe it’s some sort of magic spell,” Ren guessed. “Or ceremony.”
“Magic,” Brooks uttered, still rubbing Rosie’s neck absently. “I’ve heard about these Maya magicians who found an old pool of mud deep in the jungle. Some believed it was left over from the first mud humans, and supposedly it had all this power.” She shook her head, scowling. “Gods never pick up their messes.”
“That’s right!” Ms. Cab said like a lightbulb had turned on in her mind. “The high priests discovered that some of the gods’ creation powers lingered in the pool, so they worked with magicians and made potions from it. But, as far as I knew, it was used up a hundred years ago.”
“Please tell me they didn’t bathe in the leftover people.” My stomach felt like it was eating itself.
Ren’s face went white. “Or that the mud wasn’t in that chocolate Zane ate, because that would mean…”
“I didn’t eat anyone!” I shouted.
“Think of it as a mud pie,” Brooks teased.
Mr. O patted my shoulder. “No te preocupes.”
Easy for him to tell me not to worry. He didn’t just eat an ancient mud person!
“Gross,” Ren uttered.
“But I still don’t get what ‘mapping’ means,” Brooks said.
“Or why I saw flashes of New Mexico,” I reminded them.
“Maybe your brain was in shock,” Ren said, “and it was trying to make you feel better with pictures of home?”
Home. Was New Mexico still home? Ren’s guess wasn’t bad, but I knew there was more to it than that. “Then why were those words written in the sand?”
Frowning, Brooks said, “Maybe mapping has something to do with going back to New Mexico? Or maybe the frequency is all jammed up and…”
“We are thinking wrong.” Mr. O rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “When I created my peppers, I wrote down notes, instructions so I could understand how the peppers worked, how they grew. I was not trying to get somewhere in the world. I was trying to get somewhere in my mind. To understand.”
Everyone was silent. The birds pecked at the seed on the ground. A warm breeze rustled through the trees. Then it hit me.
“Someone wants to know how my powers work.” Yeah, well, whoever wanted this Zane map was going to be way disappointed when they found out I couldn’t do anything more than make fire lemons.
“Uh, Zane…” Brooks began like she had something awful to tell me.
Ms. Cab said, “Dios mío.”
“Someone wants my powers, don’t they?”
Ren pushed her bangs out of her face and frowned. “Rotten thieves.”
“Muy rotten,” Mr. O echoed.
“But they failed,” I said. “I mean, I can still touch fire. When I went to extinguish the flames, they didn’t burn me—they actually healed me.”
Brooks twisted her mouth and folded her arms. She looked up at me. “You know what this means, right?”
“What?” I wanted to know, but I didn’t want to know. “What does it mean?”
“Whoever did this is going to come back to finish the job.”
Why did Brooks always have to be so fatalistic?
Rosie growled and bared her massive fangs. I swear, it was like she was itching for a fight. Man, she had really changed from the skinny fraidy-cat dog I once knew.
Ms. Cab ran her hands over her disheveled hair. “I need my eyes. My powers!”
Since we’d been on the island, she hadn’t taken out her box of creepy moving eyeballs that let her see the future. There was no point, because they didn’t work with Ixtab’s shadow magic (more like prison magic).
Brooks grunted in frustration. “I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of looking at this stupid mud thing!” The air shimmered green and blue as she shifted into a hawk, spread her wings, and crushed the statue to dust with her sharp talons. It was a magnificent sight.
Ren gasped. “Whoa! That’s way more awesome in person!”
Stooping, Ms. Cab ran her fingers slowly through the pile of dirt that remained. “Do you…do you hear the voices?”
Voices in the dirt? I guess that was no weirder than the voice I’d heard in the fire. But I heard nothing this time.
Mr. O and Ren stepped closer. Brooks shifted back to human and exchanged a what-now? glance with me as Ms. Cab grabbed a handful of mud, closed her eyes, and hummed a weird tune. When all the bits of clay had sifted through her fingers, she opened her eyes.
“Did you see something, amor?” Mr. O asked.
Ms. Cab’s mouth fell open as she stepped back. The birds went crazy. A startling wind blew across the patio, sending dirt swirling into the air. Rosie threw her head back and howled. Yup, Ms. Cab had definitely seen something. But how?
“What…what’s wrong?” Ren asked softly.
Ms. Cab’s gaze met mine. “I heard a message from…the ancestors.”
“Ancestors?” I asked.
“They are an ancient lineage of great seers.” Ms. Cab’s voice was tight. “A powerful source. They must have worked very hard to reach me through the shadow magic. Or someone helped them reach me….” Her voice trailed off.
“What’s the message?” I asked, wondering if it would be as obvious as Eating the chocolate was a bad idea.
Ms. Cab hesitated, then said, “‘In the dark, you shall choose the path, but beware. All roads lead to the gods’ angry wrath.’”
“Great,” Brooks groaned.
“That’s it?” I said. “Whichever path I pick, the gods are going to be mad?”
“What kind of prophecy is that?” Ren asked.
Ms. Cab grimaced. “I lost communication, but not before they could tell me one more thing.”
“What?!” we all cried in unison.
I held my breath, praying she was going to say something like Zane will succeed in rescuing Hurakan and no one will die.
“‘The Prophecy of Fire was only the beginning.’”
My heart took a nosedive. Those were the exact words I’d heard from the tarot-card-reading dude back in Venice, California. The one with two gold front teeth, silver-rimmed shades, and my future in his pocket. I wished now that I’d stopped to talk to him and found out more, but at the time I’d thought he was just some street peddler.
My memory stretched back to that day. What else had he said? And then I remembered:
Fire spreads. Until it burns everything in its path.
I left Ms. Cab’s with a sour feeling in my stomach and a question that grated on my bones: How could the Prophecy of Fire be the beginning? And if the ancestors were so all-seeing great, why couldn’t they just tell me who wanted to steal my so-called powers?
“Zane, why are you walking so fast? Where are you going?” Brooks hurried beside me.
“Xib’alb’a,” I said, even more convinced that my pre-Cab idea was the best solution to our getting off the island. Now, more than ever, we needed to bust out, rescue my dad, and get the answers we’d never find here.
“We’re going to the underworld?” Ren said with way too much excitement in her voice.
“Not we,” I said.
Brooks’s eyes flashed amber. “Are you crazy?! You think you can waltz up to the queen of the underworld and ask her to let you off the island? I was just kidding when I suggested it! Zane? Are you paying attention? You want her to know what you’re up to? She’ll for sure double the shadow magic, and we’ll never get out of here.”
“You still have the gateway map, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s…” She rushed alongside me. “It’s in my pack at home.”
“We have to get it.”
“Why?”
I glanced at Rosie. Maybe we could send her for the backpack. I couldn’t risk going myself and running into my mom. For all I knew, Ms. Cab had already called her and told her everything. “Because the map will show us a gateway down in the und
erworld. A gateway to South Dakota,” I said as I marched toward the mouth of the jungle. “That’s why I want to go there, not to see Ixtab.”
Rosie walked between Ren and me. I could sense that she felt protective of the girl. It made my heart hurt. Would things ever go back to how they used to be between us? What if they never did? It was too depressing to think about.
“But what if you run into her?” Ren asked.
“That would suck,” I said. “But I bet hell is a big place. Chances are she won’t even know we’re there.”
“Zane!” Brooks said, looking frantic. “This is the stupidest, craziest idea you’ve ever had. We need a plan, backup plans, exit strategies.”
“There’s no time!” I argued. “We have just three and a half days left. This is our one and only chance. Like you said, if whoever it is that wants my power comes back here, I’ll never rescue my dad. I have to go—now.”
Ren looked both excited and stunned. “Hey, do you think there’s evidence of aliens in Xib’alb’a?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Brooks asked, sounding exasperated.
“I have a blog,” she said. “Eyes in the Sky. Ever heard of it? No? Well, I keep a record of UFO sightings, alien encounters, and other stuff. You wouldn’t believe how many people email me. I mean, a lot of the reports are fake, but some are totally real. You should see the photos I get.”
Brooks nodded like it wasn’t entirely crazy until Ren got to the part about some old guy from Palenque named King Pakal and his sarcophagus. “The carvings clearly show him sitting in a spaceship,” she said excitedly. “Scholars have argued forever about these aliens that visited ancient civilizations like the Egyptians and stuff. And I don’t know. I just think the sky and the stars have a lot of secrets.”
“Spaceship,” Brooks repeated in a monotone. “Secrets.”
Ren smiled. “Exactly. Amazing, right?”
“Good for King Pakal,” I said to Ren. “But right now, we have to get into hell, and you need to go to my house and wait for your grandpa.”
Brooks turned her attention back to me. “If she…If Ixtab catches us…”
“We’ll come up with an excuse for why we’re there.”
The Fire Keeper Page 6
