Sky Knife

by Marella Sands

  Sky Knife ran over and knelt by the side of the pool. He reached out his hand to the man.

  “No,” said Bone Splinter. The warrior knelt beside him. “It could be a trick, or an evil spirit in the form of a man.”

  Sky Knife grabbed the man’s shirt and pulled, but the man was too heavy for Sky Knife to pull out alone.

  “Help me,” he said. “He’s no spirit. This is zuhuy ha, the Navel of the World. No evil could be in the water.”

  Bone Splinter reached out and grabbed the man by the elbow and helped Sky Knife drag the man out onto the rock shore of the pool. “If Cizin could be on the temple, there’s no reason evil could not desecrate the Navel of the World,” he said. “But I agree that this does not seem to be an evil spirit. For one thing, I assume that an evil spirit that knew it would be in a pool of water would also know how to swim.”

  Sky Knife rolled the man over on his back. The man coughed and sat up. His deeply lined face, worn clothing, and gnarled hands spoke of the hard life of a farmer.

  “Hello,” said Sky Knife.

  The man did not react. Sky Knife waved his hand in front of the farmer’s face, but the man did not blink.

  “Look,” said Bone Splinter. He pointed back toward the pool.

  Another head broke the surface. And another.

  Sky Knife glanced back at the first farmer. “I would guess that this is where they end up,” he said. “They answer Ah Mun’s call, go to the cenote, and are brought here somehow through the water.”

  “If that is so,” said Bone Splinter, “where are all the others? Hundreds of farmers must have answered that call by now.” Bone Splinter got up and moved out of the way of the farmers as they pulled themselves out of the water.

  The first farmer stood shakily and joined the others. All ignored Sky Knife and Bone Splinter. Soon, several dozen farmers stood in the room, their faces blank, their movements shaky and stilted.

  As the last farmer dragged himself out of the pool, the green light died and the surface of the water calmed. Another green light, this one coming from a passage to the left, shone brilliantly in the cave’s gloom.

  One by one, the farmers walked toward the light and entered the passageway. Even though they moved slowly, it did not take long for them to all file out of the room. The green light died, leaving the cavern lit only by the glow at Sky Knife’s throat.

  “Should we follow?” asked Bone Splinter.

  “Yes,” said Sky Knife. “But we’ll keep back a ways.”

  “Perhaps I should go ahead alone,” said Bone Splinter. “You can’t hide. Whoever’s at the other end of the passage will know you’re coming.”

  “I think we announced ourselves upstairs,” said Sky Knife. “When we destroyed the sorcerous door.”

  “Yes, but they don’t know exactly where we are or when we’re coming,” said Bone Splinter. “I think I should go on alone.”

  “No.”

  Sky Knife walked to the passage and glanced down. Shiny flakes of obsidian dotted the floor.

  Sky Knife eased down the passage. The rock here was gray and smooth. Someone had carved out this passage by hand. Sky Knife ran his hands along the walls, awed at the effort it had taken.

  Ahead, he heard a low rumble. It bounced off the craggy walls of the passage and echoed strangely, so that several seconds after he first heard it, it no longer seemed to be coming from ahead of him. The strange rumble was behind him, then over. Sky Knife shook his head.

  Bone Splinter touched him on the shoulder. “Pay no attention,” he said. “Go on.”

  Sky Knife continued forward. The passageway curved around toward the left and opened up until it was wide enough for several people to walk abreast. Then it stopped. Sky Knife ran forward and put his hands on the wall.

  “No,” he said. “There’s got to be a way to go on.”

  “Look around for an opening,” said Bone Splinter. The warrior dropped to his knees and felt around the wall near the floor. Sky Knife glanced up. A dark hole in the wall gaped several feet over his head.

  “Here,” he said. “But how do we get to it? How do the farmers get to it, for that matter.”

  Sky Knife felt the wall beneath the hole. Several small, deep horizontal grooves marred the wall.

  “Hand holds,” he said. Bone Splinter came over and joined him.

  Bone Splinter boosted Sky Knife up. Sky Knife hooked his elbows over the rim of the hole and pulled himself up. Bone Splinter followed. This passage was rough, though the bottom was smooth as if ground down by hand.

  There was only enough room to crawl. Sky Knife pulled himself to his hands and knees and crept forward. The air grew hot and sultry and the smell changed from one of sorcery to the thick, bitter smell of blood.

  Light came from ahead, from around a corner. Sky Knife poked his head cautiously around the stone of the corner. Just past the corner was a drop-off, as the passageway met a huge, cavernous room. Several of the great pyramids could fit inside, with a few palaces tossed in for good measure. Sky Knife gaped in awe.

  The entire room was lit by brilliant balls of blue and green light that danced around the highly vaulted ceiling. On the floor of the cavern, among piles of stones and in the shadows of boulders, sat hundreds of men.

  “What is it?” asked Bone Splinter.

  “I think we just found the farmers,” whispered Sky Knife.

  A movement caught his eye. Across the room, a man moved sprightly. He gestured for one of the farmers to come to him. The farmer did. The man led him away down another passageway.

  The man turned back once and looked straight at Sky Knife. Sky Knife’s heart jumped and he fought the urge to duck back down the passageway. Surely the man couldn’t actually see him—but no doubt he’d see movement if Sky Knife pulled his head back.

  Sky Knife bit his lip and stared back at the man. The man wasn’t particularly tall, and his graying hair was swept back from his face with grease. Something about him was familiar.

  Sky Knife’s blood ran cold. He did know the man. He looked twenty years younger than he had yesterday, but it was he.

  Death Smoke.

  30

  The strangely youthful Death Smoke turned away and the farmer followed him down a passageway. Both of the men were swallowed up in the darkness.

  Sky Knife pulled his head back and sat down against the cold wall of the passage.

  “Well?” asked Bone Splinter.

  “A big room,” said Sky Knife. “Hundreds of men, just sitting around. And Death Smoke…” Sky Knife’s voice failed him and he couldn’t go on.

  “What about him?”

  “He’s … he’s younger somehow,” said Sky Knife. “He stands straight and his hair is only slightly gray.”

  Bone Splinter frowned. “More sorcery,” he said. “Power had to be used for that, too. But where is he getting all this energy?”

  Sky Knife shook his head. “I don’t know. But the farmers are obviously part of it.”

  Bone Splinter eased forward and peeked around the corner. “Itzamna,” he whispered. “It shouldn’t be too hard to get across the room unseen, what with the rubble all over and the farmers. But getting down to the floor could be a problem.”

  “The farmers had to manage it somehow,” said Sky Knife. “There are probably handholds carved into the wall.”

  “I would think so,” said Bone Splinter. “What I meant was that we’re sure to be seen.”

  “Oh.” Sky Knife thought a moment. “But the farmers didn’t react to us in the other room,” he said. “Perhaps they won’t react to us here, either.”

  “Could be. Only one way to find out.”

  Sky Knife took a deep breath. “Right.” He got back on hands and knees and crawled around the corner. Cautiously, he crawled to the edge and glanced down.

  The floor of the cavern was at least twenty feet below him, but near the wall, a pile of rock debris cut the distance in half. Sky Knife backed up to the corner and turned around. When he
reached the edge, he lay on his stomach. The gritty floor of the passage scraped against his belly and chest as Sky Knife lowered his legs and then his hips down over the edge of the drop-off.

  Bone Splinter caught his wrists. “I’ll lower you,” he said. Sky Knife nodded and let Bone Splinter support his weight. Bone Splinter lowered him down over the edge and then dropped him. He didn’t drop more than a few feet, but the impact jarred him and he fell backward down the slope.

  Sky Knife tumbled down the slope, scraping hands and knees on rough stone. The jaguar-skin cloak protected his back. He slid to a stop at the bottom, skinned but otherwise uninjured. A few rocks tumbled down after him and struck him in the legs. Sky Knife glanced around quickly. Surely someone had seen him, heard him.

  But the farmers stared blankly in front of them, each appearing to be lost in his own thoughts. Sky Knife looked back up to the entrance to the passage. Bone Splinter peered down at him. Sky Knife waved and stood on shaky legs. Blood dripped from shallow scraped on his knees and forearms. Old scabs had been torn away. Some hung loosely along with small strips of skin. Sky Knife pulled them off. The wounds stung, but not badly.

  Bone Splinter’s descent was a little more graceful than Sky Knife’s. The warrior lowered himself until only his fingertips supported him. He let go and dropped onto the debris. Bone Splinter half slid, half ran down the slope without ever losing his feet.

  “Are you all right?” asked Bone Splinter.

  Sky Knife nodded. “A little cut up, but nothing serious,” he said. He pointed toward the passage where Death Smoke and the farmer had disappeared. “There’s where Death Smoke went. We’d better see what he’s doing.”

  Bone Splinter grunted. “Right,” he said. He glanced around. “But what about all these peasants? Will they give us away?”

  Sky Knife walked to the nearest man and waved his hand in front of the man’s face. The man did not react. Sky Knife pinched the man’s forearm hard. Still nothing. The man breathed deeply and easily as if asleep.

  “I think they’re drugged or there’s a spell on them,” said Sky Knife. “We can’t help them now.”

  Sky Knife stood and looked around the room. In the shade of the next boulder sat a small girl. Sky Knife walked by a peasant woman to get to the girl and knelt by her.

  “What’s your name?” he asked. He touched the girl’s hair. She stared ahead of her blankly as the others had done.

  Bone Splinter knelt on the other side of the girl. Sky Knife held the girl’s hand briefly. It was cold, but Sky Knife felt a pulse in her wrist.

  Bone Splinter put a massive hand over Sky Knife’s and the girl’s. “Whatever Death Smoke is doing, it means the death of these people,” he said. “You can smell it.”

  Sky Knife nodded. The smell of blood he had noticed in the passage was nearly overwhelming down next to the floor. Mixed with it was the pungent smell of decay. Over everything was the rotten fruit smell of the temple glow.

  “Death,” said Sky Knife, “would seem to have taken residence here. Perhaps that’s why Cizin was in the acropolis—this place is his home.”

  “At least for now it is,” said Bone Splinter. “Such a foul stench could only be pleasant to a foul creature like Cizin.”

  Sky Knife stood and reluctantly left the girl in the shade of the boulder. He wanted to take her away, but in looking around the room, he saw many such little girls, and small boys as well. Each of them stared blankly. If Sky Knife was going to rescue them, he would have to rescue them all. That meant facing Stone Jaguar. And Death Smoke.

  Sky Knife walked carefully to the opposite side of the room. The rubble made footing tricky. Occasionally, Sky Knife had to climb over a large rock. He left blood behind on each of them, though the bleeding was very slow. He sat down on a dog-sized rock and looked at his knees and elbows. Blood continued to seep out of his wounds.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Bone Splinter.

  Sky Knife shook his head. “I don’t know. These scrapes should have stopped bleeding by now.”

  Bone Splinter knelt, grabbed Sky Knife’s wrist, and examined the elbow. “What do you think it means.”

  Sky Knife looked toward the passageway where Death Smoke had gone. “Perhaps it’s because of all the sorcery.”

  Bone Splinter released Sky Knife’s wrist and stood up. Sky Knife stood up as well and continued toward the passageway.

  Sky Knife stopped at the beginning of the passage. This passage was narrow and high, the top shrouded in darkness. No balls of blue and green lit the corridor; what light there was was provided by cavern behind them. Sky Knife’s shadow stretched out ahead of him.

  He stepped into the passageway, Bone Splinter just behind him. The glow from his serpent tattoo lit his way.

  The corridor curved away slightly to the left. Although it looked flat, Sky Knife could feel the rise of a gentle slope as he walked.

  Sky Knife had no idea how far he’d walked—one hundred yards? two hundred?—before the corridor widened out into a round room about twenty feet across. To his right, the narrow corridor continued.

  Sky Knife stepped into the room and headed for the other opening in the walls.

  “Wait,” said Bone Splinter.

  Sky Knife turned to him. “What is it?”

  Before Bone Splinter could answer, Sky Knife felt it, too. Although Sky Knife thought he could hear something, he felt the vibration more in his gut than heard it. The vibration spread through Sky Knife’s body. The pain of his wounds receded, and his fear bled away.

  Death Smoke entered the room from the opening on Sky Knife’s right. He walked up to Sky Knife, peered into his face, and grunted. The older man’s fetid breath swept by Sky Knife, but it didn’t disgust him as it usually did. He felt terribly, unshakably calm. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before.

  It was wrong, though. Sky Knife fought to struggle, fought to remember at least a little fear, a little pain. But it was beyond him. Only the heavy burden of stillness lay on him.

  “I knew you’d come,” said Death Smoke. The sound of the older man’s voice slid into Sky Knife’s mind like water. It dripped pleasantness and tranquility into his soul.

  “Stone Jaguar said you wouldn’t, but then, he’s underestimated you from the start, hasn’t he?” asked Death Smoke. “Saving the chic-chac—that was brilliant. Even now, after its death, it aids you.”

  Sky Knife fought to open his mouth, but the muscles of his face remained stubbornly outside his control. Sky Knife knew he should ask Death Smoke all the questions he had. But as soon as he thought of anything, it slid away beyond his reach.

  “It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” said Death Smoke. He moved away, toward Bone Splinter. Sky Knife wanted to turn his head, to keep the older man in sight, but he couldn’t move. “My spell holds you as it holds the farmers. Ignorant peasants that they are, they were easier to snare. But you are untrained and were unable to resist my spell for very long.”

  Death Smoke walked back to the opening from which he’d come. “Come along,” he said.

  Death Smoke walked away. Sky Knife’s foot jerked forward and he took a step. Then another. And another. Awkwardly, but steadily, he made his way down the corridor.

  At the end of the corridor, Death Smoke paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Once you see, you’ll understand, Sky Knife,” he said. “Your death will aid the greater glory of Tikal.”

  Death Smoke walked into another monstrously huge cavern lit by globes of blue and green fire high overhead. In the center of the room stood Stone Jaguar. He held a heart in his hands; before him, on an altar, lay the body of a man.

  Light streaked from the heart around the cavern, but instead of rising to the heavens as usual, the light entered Stone Jaguar. Even through the terrible calm, Sky Knife felt a tinge of horror—Stone Jaguar did not offer the sacrifice to the gods. He kept it to himself.

  Sky Knife stepped forward into the room unwillingly with a jerky step, right behind Death
Smoke. The stench of blood and decay hit him all over again. Sky Knife wished he had control of his body so he could turn and run. Even under the spell, his gut twisted and Sky Knife felt like he might vomit.

  When the light had faded, Stone Jaguar threw the heart behind him, where it joined others in a pile. Sky Knife stared at the quivering mass behind Stone Jaguar, his brain barely able to comprehend the meaning of it. The mass must represent hundreds of people, slaughtered on the altar to give power to Stone Jaguar and Death Smoke.

  A single heart rolled off the pile and Sky Knife suddenly understood. The hearts were not dead—they lived. The heart at Stone Jaguar’s feet continued to beat. Stone Jaguar picked it up and pitched it back onto the pile.

  In the back of his mind, Sky Knife screamed.

  31

  Death Smoke descended the steps that led from the corridor to the floor of the cavern. Sky Knife followed helplessly. His skin crawled with the tingle of sorcery, but the feeling was vile, like the smell of fouled water.

  At the bottom of the steps, Death Smoke strode easily forward around heaps of bodies, ignoring the way they jerked spasmodically. Death Smoke stepped on an arm of a young woman and her fist clenched as if in pain. Another arm, this one without a body, dug its nails into the rubble-strewn floor and crawled slowly out of Death Smoke’s way. Sky Knife was suddenly glad he couldn’t look around him. He could see more than enough without turning his head.

  Stone Jaguar stood on the small pyramid in the center of the cavern. The man’s face was ravaged with anger; his lips curled back into a snarl. He wore only a blue loincloth and a necklace of jade. Stone Jaguar stared at Sky Knife with such hatred, Sky Knife cringed despite Death Smoke’s spell. The tingle of sorcery grew stronger until it thrummed along Sky Knife’s skin from neck to ankles and made him want to scream.

  Stone Jaguar motioned to two naked men who stood behind him. The men, blood-coated and bent over with weariness, came forward, picked up the corpse on the altar, and threw it off the side of the pyramid. The two men returned to their places without blinking or reacting to the sights in the cavern in any way.