The Fire Keeper

by J. C. Cervantes

  “That’s the girl from the news!” someone screamed.

  News? Then I remembered the helicopter cameraperson back in Cabo, and my heart did a backflip. Who else had seen us on the news? Did that mean the gods knew I was alive? No, they would have come for my head—and Ixtab’s—by now. I bet they only watched Netflix.

  A dense fog rolled in so fast I barely had time to see the last of the crowd get swallowed up by it. Everything fell silent, as if the mob had disappeared. Jazz (with Ren still on his shoulders) rushed up the steps behind me, running from the fog headed our way.

  “¡Ándale, Rosie!” I cried.

  My hellhound bolted up the steps three at a time, but the mist was faster. It curled all around us. Alien-looking hands with long, spindly fingers grew out of the fog, reaching for us, shoving us so hard that Rosie tripped, and I tumbled off her back, scraping the side of my face against the stone. A shroud of gray tightened around me.

  “Rosie!”

  The only answer was silence.

  “You cannot win, you little fool,” a woman’s voice said.

  I pressed on up the stairs, crawling on all fours because it was faster than trying to get to the top with my bum leg. Why weren’t the gods doing anything? Didn’t they notice the fog? Or that the crowd had disappeared behind it? Hadn’t they wanted a public execution?

  The woman laughed. “You’ll never make it in time.”

  I spun onto my back and shot a river of fire into the air toward the voice. “Hey!” I screamed, hoping the gods could hear me. “It’s me, Zane Obispo. You’re being tricked! Stop!”

  “How about I let you watch?” The woman laughed.

  Bird’s dreaded words echoed down the stairs. “We offer you the blood and heart of the god of storm, fire, and wind—the great Hurakan!”

  I whipped around and looked up. The fog thinned.

  Jordan raised the ax. It was pointed right at my dad’s neck.

  “NO!” I screamed.

  The ax came down with an unbearable blow.

  Instantly, the world went black, so black even I couldn’t see through its darkness. My heart pounded no-no, no-no.

  Shock rippled through me.

  This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.

  Is that all you have? Itzamna’s voice rammed against my skull. Not very hero-like.

  That did it. Every cell in my body exploded with rage. I felt a burst of blinding power. My blood flowed like hot lava, my lungs seized, my muscles contracted. My storm runner leg jolted awake.

  I raced through the dark and up the steps with lightning speed.

  Just as I reached the platform, the darkness vanished. I heard a piercing cry. Brooks? I saw her glowing eyes first, cutting through the fog like twin candles. She dove straight for the twins, ripping off their masks with a single bloody swipe.

  Jordan and Bird stumbled back, looking stunned. Then a thicker blanket of mist wrapped around them, making it impossible to see them.

  Brooks screeched.

  Forget the hawk, the woman’s voice said. Run!

  Since the fog blocked the gods, I have no idea what they were doing at that moment—probably standing around taking a vote about what to do. Someone really should write a letter of complaint about their lack of leadership.

  Panic gripped me. Hurakan. Where was Hurakan? I nearly slipped on a pool of blood. The world slanted. I hate to be so morbid, but I looked around for his severed head. Stupid mist! I couldn’t see anything. I fell to my knees and groped through the haze. I stumbled on the ax. And Hurakan’s chains, but they were empty. What the heck?

  The woman’s voice drew closer, like she was right behind me, but when I spun, there was nothing. Then the mist parted enough for me to see the twins glaring at me. Long fangs protruded from their foaming mouths and…I blinked. Had they sprouted wings? Bat wings?

  “Hurry, boys,” the woman warned. “The mist will only blind the gods for so long.”

  “We’re going to kill him first, Mother!” Jordan screamed.

  Bird stretched his wings. His human arms were extended underneath them, but instead of hands, he had scaly black claws. “You’re going to pay, Obispo.”

  “Think of the bigger plan, you fools!” the woman, who I now knew was Ixkik’, shouted.

  The twin bats launched into the sky, splitting off in opposite directions and disappearing into the fog. A second later, they emerged again, looking bigger, stronger, and more dangerous. The only recognizable part of them now was their faces—the rest of their humanness had been consumed by their bat selves. I went after them, shooting dozens of fire bullets from my hands and nailing them in the chest, but it didn’t stop their rage. Or their momentum.

  My visibility was three feet at best, which put me at a serious disadvantage. It was impossible to know where I stood on the platform and how close to the edge I was.

  Just then, Rosie appeared by my side, blue flames exploding from her mouth as Jordan swept down with ferocious speed, slicing my neck with a razor-sharp claw.

  I lost my balance and staggered back, gripping the wound.

  Rosie howled.

  But her warning was too late. I stumbled over the side of the pyramid. My arms shot out to catch myself, but I was already in free fall, tumbling through the misty air as Jordan and Bird shrieked in celebration above.

  The terror of the moment gripped me so hard, I almost passed out. Instead…

  I landed clumsily on a feathered surface. As I rolled to the edge, it lifted, catching me before I fell off the side of…Brooks. She was in grande hawk form. My mind spun, coming to the realization that the only way she could be back to her all-powerful nawal self was if the flame had been fed. That meant Hurakan had to be alive. But how?

  Brooks!

  God, Obispo. You really are a pain. Worse than a pain, and when this is all over…

  I had never been so happy to be insulted in my whole life.

  I missed you, too.

  And then I realized she was flying away from the pyramid. “Wait! We have to go back.”

  There’s a gateway nearby and you only have thirteen minutes to get to the underworld, Zane, before you’re permanently dead. And if you don’t mind, I like you better alive.

  Is that why she had seized the map? To find a way back to the underworld? To save me?

  Brooks…we still have time. Let’s finish this. We won’t get the chance again.

  No! The gods are up there, and so are those vile…She hesitated, then shifted direction back toward the platform. You’re right. I only need two minutes to rip off the twins’ faces.

  I clung to her feathery neck as we broke through the thick fog. Since when are the twins bats?

  In exchange for Zotz’s help and protection, they agreed to become part of his nasty, hairy army.

  How do you know?

  You learn a lot when you’re a prisoner.

  Guilt punched a hole in my chest. I’m sorry.

  Through the haze, four glowing yellow eyes zoomed toward us—the twins’ bat selves taking shape as they drew nearer. Brooks didn’t pull up—she didn’t even hesitate, just flew straight for them.

  I hurled fireballs in their direction. Brooks’s screech echoed through the haze. The twins did a one-eighty back to the platform. Brooks pursued. She was bigger and faster than they were. And let’s be honest—fiercer.

  But why were they fleeing, when just two seconds ago they wanted to kill me?

  We landed on the platform. The thick mist wrapped cold arms around us. Then slowly, as if by design, it parted enough for us to see the backs of Jordan and Bird, once again in full human form, at the side edge of the pyramid. They half spun to face me, their eyes filled with hate and defiance.

  Why were they just standing there?

  Brooks jerked forward, but something was holding her back. I can’t move through this mist, she said.

  I shot ribbons of flame, but the mist remained strong.

  I kept my gaze on Jordan and Bird. “T
oo afraid to face us?” I shouted.

  “Too many gods here for our liking.” Bird sneered. “Soon enough.”

  Then they smiled and jumped off the edge.

  I heard Ixkik’ whisper in my ear, so close I was sure she was standing right next to me. “Someday, when you least expect it, you’ll pay with your blood for this. My sons will show no mercy. Nor will I.” And then she was gone.

  The air cleared instantly.

  A commotion of godly voices and growls rose up behind us.

  It’s a trap! Brooks shouted.

  “Stop him!” someone shouted. “Stop Zane!” It sounded a whole lot like Nakon.

  Really? Stop me? How about the loser twins who had duped the gods yet again?

  Just as Brooks took off with me still on board, a giant net dropped out of nowhere, stopping us in our tracks. I tried to incinerate the thing, but the stupid nonflammable trap only tightened around us more. Brooks flapped her wings wildly, to no avail. She shifted into human form.

  Together we turned and saw some seriously angry gods glaring at us.

  I remembered what Fausto had said about the death magic making me undetectable to the gods unless I walked right up to them.

  I’d planned for this moment, what I was going to say, how I was going to get them to hear me out. It was pretty masterful. It went something like this:

  “You guys suck!”

  Okay, that wasn’t the plan. But let’s be real. For all-powerful beings, they do tend to fail miserably. How could they have let Jordan and Bird escape from prison? And again, tonight, when the twins were right under their stupid noses?

  I glanced down the pyramid steps. The crowd stirred restlessly, like they had no idea what was happening.

  Nakon tugged off his robe (he had on his cliché leather biker outfit underneath). “I told you all this was a bad strategy, a bad plan. Bad outfits. Bad everything.”

  Chaac shook his head with disgust. “You’ve made us look like fools, boy.”

  “Let’s all remain calm, shall we?” Itzamna said. “After the fog lifted, I ran a feedback loop on the screens so no one saw what really happened. They all still think they’re waiting for an execution.”

  “Then let’s give them one,” Ixkakaw said, looking at me with a catlike sneer. I was definitely going to give up chocolate. Forever.

  Struggling against the net, I said, “Before you kill me, you should listen to what I have to say….”

  “Or you’re all going to die,” Brooks added.

  “Are you threatening us?” Alom said.

  Brooks looked like she was about to nod yes when I grabbed her hand and said, We need to be calm. No fights with the gods.

  Since when?

  But I didn’t answer, because Nakon had narrowed his already beady eyes and stepped closer. I could tell something was dawning on him. “If you’re alive, that means…” He turned to glare at Ixtab.

  “I escaped Xib’alb’a!” I shouted. “I’m just a ghost…still dead.” I pointed to my face. “See?”

  “Who gave you this death magic?” Chaac asked.

  Ixtab looked at her watch and smirked. “Six minutes,” she muttered casually like those minutes weren’t the last of my life.

  I didn’t have much time to convince the gods to let me go, tell them about the evil plan, find Hurakan, and…“Where’s my dad?” I demanded.

  The gods looked at each other like they were only now noticing he was missing. A flurry of accusations started: “I thought you had him.” “You were supposed to be watching him.” “You idiot!”

  “Should have been paying attention,” Brooks muttered in a singsong voice.

  Ixtab raised her hands and stepped next to me. She winked before turning to face the gods. She tilted her eyes to Nakon and, with a single touch, vanished the net. “Zane didn’t escape Xib’alb’a,” she said. “Because he didn’t die all those months ago in the Old World.” Her red painted lips parted into a smile, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she had been waiting for this moment for a long time. “I shielded him,” she continued. “I defied you all. And do you want to know why? How? Because you have become complacent, lazy, so absorbed with yourselves you cannot see the truth. You cannot see what’s coming.”

  Kukuulkaan spoke for the first time. “She speaks the truth. I helped her.”

  “Just hear me out,” I said. “Camazotz is plotting with the twins, and Ixkik’—”

  The gods inched back, eyes wide, like they were seeing ghosts or…I don’t know—whatever would scare all-powerful Maya gods.

  I whirled around to see Jazz, Ren, Hondo, and Rosie.

  But that wasn’t what had the gods so freaked. It was the godborns who stood behind them.

  And I could tell by the gods’ shocked faces that they recognized their own kids. Well, not Itzamna. He just stood back and watched like he was thoroughly entertained by all of this. Ixtab’s eyes roved over the group, and a look of utter sadness crossed her face. I could tell she was looking for someone who wasn’t there.

  “Did you say Camazotz?” Nakon asked with disgust, like he couldn’t believe he had to talk to me.

  But before I could answer, a familiar voice rang out.

  “Well, well, well…” Ah-Puch said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such astonishment, such speechless bewilderment. Have you, my friend?”

  We all looked up to see him standing on top of the temple with my dad. I never thought I would ever in a million years say this, but boy, was I happy to see the god of death alive.

  “A.P.!” Ren squealed.

  I was even gladder to see Hurakan next to him, clearly restored to his godly strength, but not nearly as formally dressed as Ah-Puch, who was in his expensive custom-tailored suit. My dad wore a pair of jeans and a navy shirt with a gray collarless blazer.

  A smile tugged at my mouth. Then Hurakan’s eyes found mine, and for a split second, I thought he might smile, too. He didn’t, and there was no Hey, son, thanks for everything. You’re a true warrior. Instead, he said, “Today is the day of reckoning.”

  Chaac cast a bolt of lightning right above Ah-Puch’s head. But Ah-Puch only sighed and said, “Thought you’d gotten rid of me? Sorry to disappoint.”

  “Please, let’s be civil,” Itzamna said. “Hurakan is right. Everyone here is guilty of breaking the Sacred Oath. Well, not me. I haven’t fathered any human children.”

  Rolling her eyes, Ixtab said, “The boy has minutes to live and a story to tell, and if you want to hear it, I suggest you follow me to hell.”

  With two minutes to spare, Ixtab opened a gateway to the underworld so I could live long enough to tell probably the greatest Maya tale of all time. (That is not hyperbole, Itzamna!)

  Everyone traveled through the gateway. Except Jazz, who politely said, “Hell? Thanks, but no thanks. See you on the other side.” The minute we stepped into Xib’alb’a, I felt a rush of cool air in my lungs and a warming under my skin. I looked down at my hands, and they were back to normal, no more thin-skinned, veiny hands. The death magic was gone.

  Who knew going to hell could have such a rejuvenating effect?

  We ended up in a massive conference room with carved stone beams, animal-skin rugs, chandeliers made of bones, and a long table with a mirrored top that ran the length of the space. My friends, Hondo, and the godborns were told to wait outside along with Rosie. Unless she wandered off for more snake heads.

  While the gods sat at the table, I stood before them and spilled every single detail—from Camazotz’s alliance with the twins and their evil plot to awaken the Mexica gods to Ah-Puch’s heroism when he didn’t have to help us. He’d even taken my dad—just before Jordan’s ax fell—to the Fire Keeper, to reinstate the Maya magic.

  It was high time the gods knew everything. When I was done, no one spoke, or harrumphed, or threw a knife at me. The room was utterly quiet.

  I was the one who broke the silence. “Why so glum, everyone? The twins failed.”

  Nakon
stood and stabbed a steak knife into the table. “Momentary failure does not have the finality of true failure. There is always more than one road to victory. They won’t stop trying to find a way to awaken the Mexica, to begin this war they so desperately seek.”

  “Never could trust Camazotz or Ixkik’,” Ixkakaw said. “Her beady eyes should have been the first clue. And now they’ve escaped.”

  Ah-Puch pushed back his chair and stood. Slowly, he rounded the table and came closer to me. “Camazotz is hurt. I made sure of it. But he will heal. He will come back—with a vengeance.”

  “They can’t awaken a Mexica god without our blood,” Chaac said (squeamishly, if you ask me).

  “We must unite,” Hurakan said. “We can no longer afford to fight within our ranks. There is a greater enemy now.”

  Nakon stood and clapped. “I will begin strategic planning, counterstrike analysis…” His voice trailed off in a cloud of glee.

  “Right,” I said. “Um…but what about your kids? They aren’t safe, not with our enemies at large.”

  “What do you expect us to do? Take care of them?” That was Alom.

  Ah-Puch’s eyes flashed around the room. “Such a bad renovation,” he said. “What happened to all the demon skins? And the skull chandeliers?”

  “They cannot spend their lives in hiding,” Kukuulkaan said.

  “Are we talking about the skulls, or the godborns?” Nakon said.

  “What do you know of hiding?” Ixkakaw sneered.

  Kukuulkaan started to speak but was interrupted by a familiar voice.

  “I know everything about hiding.”

  We all turned to see Pacific standing in the threshold.

  I think everyone’s hearts stopped beating. At least mine did.

  Pacific, goddess of time, had been wiped from memory because she’d once told a prophecy about me the gods didn’t want to hear. They’d been led to believe my dad had executed her, but instead he and Kukuulkaan had hidden her beneath the ocean, where she’d spent the last several hundred years. Yeah, she knew a thing or two about living in hiding.

  She stood there with her locs and leopard cape, holding a golden rope in her hands. The time rope. Her blue eyes were fierce—they had a look that said Don’t mess with me. I have a time rope and I know how to use it. Her expression reminded me of the nuns at church—rigid and unpredictable.