“You know what you have to do?” asked the tall man. His tapir scratched an itchy ear against the steps to the northern acropolis and grunted in pleasure.
“No,” said Sky Knife. “But I know where I have to go. Wait!” he shouted to Kan Flower as he and the other warriors prepared to leave.
“Yes, Lord?”
Sky Knife flushed. “Uh, I just thought of something. Go to the Temple of Ix Chel instead. Under no circumstances is the sacrifice to happen tomorrow. You will guard Jade Flute—even if Stone Jaguar himself comes for her.”
Kan Flower bowed again. “It will be our pleasure.” It was too dark to make out Kan Flower’s expression, but the warrior sounded smug. Kan Flower and the other warriors walked off toward the temple of Ix Chel.
Sky Knife turned to the northern acropolis. Bone Splinter took a step forward.
“No,” said Sky Knife. “We’re not going to just rush in. Go to the House of the Warriors and bring your weapons. I’ll go back to Stone Jaguar’s quarters and get what I need.”
Bone Splinter bowed slightly and jogged off. Sky Knife walked back to the acropolis. As he crossed the patio, an attendant stepped outside. He saw Sky Knife and screamed.
Sky Knife stopped, confused. The other man darted back into the acropolis. Sky Knife looked down at himself. He saw nothing unusual.
Sky Knife raised his hands and looked at them in the light. Nothing.
Only then did Sky Knife realize there was light. He’d become so used to the chic-chac at his throat lighting his way, he hadn’t thought about the glow now that it was dead. He put his hands to his throat and the light dimmed a little.
Sky Knife assumed the serpent tattoo glowed as the little snake once had. No wonder the attendant had been alarmed—a man with a glowing necklace was approaching the acropolis.
The drapery at the entrance tweaked aside. Sky Knife couldn’t see who was peering out at him. He walked toward the building and the person released the drape.
Sky Knife swept aside the drapery and walked into the room. The coals in the firepit glowed slightly, but no flames lit the room. Sky Knife gestured toward the firepit and reached out with his mind. Flames leaped up from the coals, but Sky Knife could see they wouldn’t last long unless someone fed the fire.
Usually, the attendants took turns caring for all the fires within the acropolis. Without priests to watch over them, though, it seemed the remaining attendants were letting their duties go.
“Who’s here?” called Sky Knife. “Someone take care of the fires!” Sky Knife walked down the corridor. A frightened attendant ducked by him, eyes downcast.
Sky Knife went into Stone Jaguar’s quarters. No fire had been laid in the firepit. Sky Knife reached his hands over his head and called the flames. Blue light danced in the vaulted ceiling, illuminating the entire room.
Sky Knife went to the jars in the corner. Somewhere here he’d find what he needed.
The first jar contained fat for Stone Jaguar to put in his hair. The second held cigars. Sky Knife took several and wrapped them in a small cotton towel he found on the bed.
A small gourd lay behind the jars. Sky Knife took it and unstoppered it. The heavy, sweet odor of tobacco juice wafted out of the gourd. Sky Knife restoppered the gourd and looped the strap over his shoulder.
What else would he need? Sky Knife glanced around the room quickly. A carved wooden box stood open in the corner. Jade and shell beads reflected the blue light and shone like stars. But wealth was not what he needed.
The jaguar-skin cloak lay across a wooden frame in another corner. Sky Knife walked to it slowly. He’d never dared touch it, for only Ah nacom, He Who Sacrifices, could do so without bringing bad luck upon himself.
The black spots on the yellow fur reminded Sky Knife of Cizin. But the jaguar was not death. The jaguar was power. Stone Jaguar should have it with him.
Sky Knife reached out to touch the cloak when a glittering object caught his eye. In farthest recesses of the corner, something shimmered brightly green. Sky Knife walked around the wooden frame and the cloak and knelt by the object.
It was a small point, like one intended for an arrow or a dart. And its glassy facets were as green as the leaves of the ceiba tree.
Oh, Itzamna. It hadn’t been Red Spider, or even the king. Stone Jaguar. But why? He was High Priest of Itzamna in Tikal. Why should he bring bad luck to the city?
Anger rose in Sky Knife’s throat, but he choked it back down. Whatever he wanted to know, he would have to ask Stone Jaguar himself when he got to the acropolis. He would save his anger for Stone Jaguar. Still, a deep sense of betrayal burned in his heart.
Sky Knife picked up the point and put it with the cigars. He looked again at the jaguar skin cloak and anger twisted in his chest. The cloak was for the High Priest to wear, for only he was sacred enough, pure enough, for such an honor. But Stone Jaguar had thrown all that away. Sky Knife took the cloak and put it around his own shoulders. The rough fur felt strange under his fingers.
Sky Knife took the cotton tie, knotted it at his throat, and shook his shoulders to settle the cloak in place. The forepaws of the cloak fell down his arms while the back paws and tail trailed down his back and legs. The neck wrapped around the back of his neck and ruffled his hair. Sky Knife smoothed his hair back down, gathered his things, and left the room.
Sky Knife passed no one on the way out, and he sighed in relief. It felt right to wear the cloak, but he was uncomfortable—now he not only glowed, he wore the most holy garment in the entire acropolis.
Sky Knife stepped out into the night air. The Knife of Stars continued to point toward the northern acropolis. Sky Knife walked forward, angry and afraid. He bit his lip and tried not to think about the kind of power Stone Jaguar must have to bring about all the bad luck. To call Cizin, to free all the nagual, to bring a stinging rain and to call Yellow Chin and the black jaguar—all these things had taken a great deal of strength to do. How could Stone Jaguar have done it all and still had time to perform his duties, to train Sky Knife?
The power needed to call fire must come from within the priest himself. But the power to bring bad luck would take so much more effort, Sky Knife was sure one man could not do it alone. It would take a group of men, at least. And where could Stone Jaguar find a group of men to aid him in destroying his own city? The Maya belonged to their cities as much as the cities belonged to them. So why one man—let alone a group—should act against the interests of Tikal was mystifying.
No doubt he would learn more when he confronted Stone Jaguar. Who knew—perhaps Sky Knife was wrong. Perhaps Stone Jaguar had another reason to have the Teotihuacan obsidian in his quarters. Some other reason than to plant it in the plaza and make Sky Knife run to Red Spider. Or the king.
Sky Knife walked across the plaza and breathed deeply of the humid night air. The cloak made his skin itch and was hot. Sky Knife sweated freely under it.
Bone Splinter stood in the plaza next to the steps to the patio of the northern acropolis. He glanced over at Sky Knife as the younger man approached. Sky Knife waited for Bone Splinter’s reaction to the cloak, but the warrior merely nodded.
“I felt there wouldn’t be enough room for a sword or a sling, so I brought a knife,” said Bone Splinter. He hefted a heavy flint blade before Sky Knife. The flint had been hafted onto a wooden handle. “It would please me if you would bless it before we begin.”
Sky Knife felt heat rising in his cheeks, and was glad the darkness hid it. He reached out and touched the cool stone surface of the knife. “Itzamna grant that this blade strike true and remain as strong and faithful as the hand that holds it. May knife and wielder gain favor in your sight, Lord of All.”
Bone Splinter bowed slightly. “Thank you.”
Sky Knife ducked his head, a bit embarrassed by the warrior’s deference.
“Did you get what you needed?” asked Bone Splinter.
“Yes.” Sky Knife reached around for the juice-filled gourd. “I’ve go
t tobacco juice here. Put it behind your knees, elbows, and ears.”
Sky Knife unstoppered the gourd and poured a small amount onto Bone Splinter’s outstretched hand. When the warrior had anointed himself, Sky Knife put the sticky, smelly liquid on himself as well. He restoppered the gourd.
“You think the dead will bother us, then?” asked the warrior.
“I don’t know,” said Sky Knife. “But this place is supposed to be haunted. And Cizin himself was here this afternoon. Where Death is, can the dead be far behind?”
Bone Splinter grunted. “You are probably right,” he said. “Here, pour some of the juice on my knife. Flint is no weapon to use against the dead.”
Sky Knife took out the stopper and dribbled some of the liquid onto the knife.
“Good,” said Bone Splinter. “At least they won’t like the smell, if nothing else.”
The cloyingly sweet smell of the tobacco juice hung around them both. Sky Knife fought the urge to sneeze. “I’m not sure I like the smell right now,” he said.
Bone Splinter laughed. “Are you ready now?”
Sky Knife looked toward the dark gaping hole that marked the entrance to the acropolis. “One thing more,” he said. “I found a green obsidian point in Stone Jaguar’s room. Just like the ones we found last night in the plaza.”
Bone Splinter stiffened. “What?”
Sky Knife didn’t answer. He let the silence stretch out between them and answer the question for him.
“Stone Jaguar,” Bone Splinter said at last. “But why? Destroy Tikal and he destroys himself.”
“I don’t know,” said Sky Knife. “Maybe I’m wrong.”
“No,” said Bone Splinter. “I don’t think you are.”
“No,” said Sky Knife. “I don’t think I am, either.”
Bone Splinter hefted his knife and waited. Sky Knife sighed. “All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Sky Knife walked up the steps. Bone Splinter moved around to a place slightly behind and to the right of him.
Something was missing. Sky Knife turned around. The tapir and the coati stared at him, ears up and expectant. But they came no farther than the first step.
“Wait here for us,” Sky Knife said, feeling a little silly to be speaking to animals. The coati flicked an ear at him and sat down. The tapir looked forlorn.
Sky Knife turned back around and set his feet down carefully onto the broken surface of the patio. The tree roots seemed to come to life in the rainbow glow. They seemed to reach out for his feet as if to trip him.
Heart in his throat, Sky Knife paused and stared at the roots. When he looked at them squarely, they remained in place. Slowly, he moved forward again.
They crossed the patio without incident. Sky Knife paused before the doorway. He glanced up. The Knife of Stars seemed to be pointing right toward him.
Sky Knife took a deep breath and clenched his fists. He stepped forward and was swallowed up by the darkness.
29
Sky Knife stepped forward confidently into the room where he had saved the chic-chac. The glow at his throat lit it only dimly. Sky Knife glanced around for the living paintings, but only colored dust marred the floor. Blank spots stood out in the colorful murals on the walls.
Bone Splinter came in and stood beside him. “Where would he be?”
Sky Knife shook his head. “I’m not sure. This is the only room I’ve been shown up here. Perhaps we should search around, though, before we go down to the cave, to make sure no one will be behind us.”
“Cave?” Bone Splinter sounded excited.
Sky Knife bit his lip. The cave was a secret that only the highest-ranked priests were supposed to know, and he had just revealed the secret to a warrior.
Not just a warrior. His friend. And the only man in Tikal he knew he could trust tonight.
“Yes,” whispered Sky Knife. He understood Bone Splinter’s excitement. A cave—especially one containing a pool of water—was a holy place. In all of Tikal, there was nothing holier.
“Then I doubt we need to search up here,” said Bone Splinter. “Whatever’s going to happen will happen in the cave. And if there is anyone behind us—well, Itzamna knows our names.”
Fear clutched at Sky Knife’s heart and his knees shook. Bone Splinter spoke like a warrior. He planned to carry out his duty to the king without thought of surrender or retreat. Though it seemed strange to Sky Knife, he knew the warrior was right. Whether or not anyone followed them was immaterial. They had a job to do and could not waste time worrying about a safe passage out. They only needed to get in to carry out the king’s command.
Sky Knife turned briefly and glanced toward the black hole of the entrance to the room. Through it, he could see nothing of the outside. Not a fire, not a star. He wondered if he’d ever see the outside again.
“Sky Knife, I know what you’re thinking,” said Bone Splinter. “It does no good to think like that.”
“I can’t help it,” said Sky Knife. “I’ve never walked in to meet my death before.”
Bone Splinter clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t think of it that way,” he said. “Think only this—Itzamna holds us in his hands. Whether we live or die, it is for his glory and the glory of Storm Cloud our king.”
Sky Knife took a deep breath. “For Itzamna,” he whispered. He walked toward the steps. Only a blank wall stared at him.
“Where are you going?” asked Bone Splinter.
Sky Knife pointed at the wall. “Here,” he said. “Yesterday, there were stairs here. Leading down to the cave.”
Bone Splinter tapped the wall with his knife. A deep thunk echoed back. “Solid,” he said. “Surely Stone Jaguar didn’t build it this afternoon.”
Sky Knife pressed his hands against the wall. It was cool and rough. The gritty, slightly uneven surface felt like any other wall. “Well, it wasn’t here yesterday.”
Bone Splinter grunted. “We don’t have the tools to break it down,” he said. “What do you want to do?”
Sky Knife stepped back. “I don’t think Stone Jaguar could have done this. Built a wall with stone, I mean. But if he can call up Cizin and free everyone’s nagual—how hard could it be to create a wall with sorcery?”
Bone Splinter rubbed his chin with one hand. “An interesting idea. How do you think we could get through a wall of sorcery?”
Sky Knife reached into the cotton towel and touched the obsidian point. The tattoo at his throat tingled. Sky Knife pulled out the point.
“Remember Red Spider’s assistant, the one Red Spider said could get good luck from the jade beads?” asked Sky Knife.
“Yes.”
Sky Knife looked down at the green stone in his hand. “Maybe, if there’s bad luck, we can get it out of this point,” he said.
“Why?” asked Bone Splinter. “We don’t need any more bad luck.”
“No, but Stone Jaguar could use a little.”
Sky Knife held the green stone up to his face. The rainbow glow of his tattoo reflected blue off the stone. Sky Knife knelt and placed the stone at the foot of the new wall, then stepped back.
“Now what?” asked Bone Splinter. “You’re not going to bite it, I assume.”
Sky Knife walked back to the opposite side of the room and motioned for Bone Splinter to do the same. When the warrior stood against the wall next to him, Sky Knife held out a finger and pointed toward the stone. He called fire with his mind.
A brilliant blue ball of light no bigger than a corn kernel appeared at the tip of Sky Knife’s finger. It hovered for a moment, then leaped across the room to the obsidian.
A terrible yellow flash blinded Sky Knife and a loud crack pierced his ears. He screamed and raised his hands to his face.
After a few moments, sight returned. The rumbling echoes of the blast still rang in his ears.
“Bone Splinter—are you all right?”
The warrior wiped tears from his face. “Yes,” he said. “Did it work?”
Sky Knife
blinked tears from his own eyes. He stepped forward toward the wall. Only a black hole of a doorway faced him now.
“It’s gone,” he said.
Bone Splinter walked over. “Then let’s go.”
Sky Knife started forward, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“I’ll go first,” said Bone Splinter.
“You can’t see the steps in the dark,” protested Sky Knife.
“So make light,” said Bone Splinter. “Whoever is at the bottom of the steps has already heard us. But I should go first.”
Sky Knife frowned, but called up a ball of light. It danced over his head brightly. Sky Knife pushed the light with his mind until it hovered over Bone Splinter.
The warrior held his knife out in front of him and descended the stairs slowly. Sky Knife followed. The stairs seemed to go down endlessly. A slight breeze brushed by him. It was cold and smelled of rotted fruit. It smelled like the temple glow before the sacrifice touched the temple.
“Sorcery,” whispered Sky Knife. “Someone is working sorcery.”
“We knew that,” Bone Splinter whispered back over his shoulder.
“I mean right now.”
Bone Splinter nodded his understanding and continued. The smell grew stronger the lower they went. It filled Sky Knife’s nose and throat and made him want to sneeze.
At the bottom of the steps, Bone Splinter stopped. “Get rid of the light.”
Sky Knife hesitated. Stone Jaguar had never shown him how to dismiss the light he called up. It shouldn’t be too hard, but Sky Knife didn’t want to take the time to experiment now. He pushed the ball of light up the steps. It zoomed away.
Sky Knife stepped around Bone Splinter. The cave was lit by a ball of green light that hovered beneath the surface of the water. Above the light, the water churned and splashed angrily.
Beneath the water, something moved. Sky Knife inched closer to the edge of the pool, but he couldn’t make out what the something was. It just seemed to be a flickering shadow against the brilliant green light.
It came closer to the surface. Closer. Bone Splinter pulled Sky Knife back.
A human head broke the surface of the pool. A head connected to neck and shoulders. The person paddled toward the side of the pool and hooked his elbows over the side. The man tried to pull himself out of the pool, but he was too weak. He slid back into the water.
Sky Knife Page 20
