Aztec Attack

by Chris Blake

  Time Hunters: Aztec Attack

  Chris Blake

  Travel through time with Tom on more

  adventures!

  Gladiator Clash

  Knight Quest

  Viking Raiders

  Greek Warriors

  Pirate Mutiny

  Egyptian Curse

  Cowboy Showdown

  Samurai Assassin

  Outback Outlaw

  Stone Age Rampage

  Mohican Brave

  Aztec Attack

  For games, competitions and more visit:

  www.time-hunters.com

  With special thanks to Martin Howard

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: Kick-off

  Chapter 2: Rumble in the Jungle

  Chapter 3: Cat Attack

  Chapter 4: Chute to Thrill!

  Chapter 5: Temple Terror

  Chapter 6: Game On

  Chapter 7: Eagles’ Nest

  Chapter 8: Steps of Doom

  Chapter 9: House of Rain

  Chapter 10: Final Whistle

  Who were the Mightiest Aztecs?

  Weapons

  Aztec Empire Timeline

  Time Hunters Timeline

  Fantastic Facts

  Have you read them all?

  Discover A New Time Hunters Quest!

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  1500 AD, Mexico

  As far as Zuma was concerned, there were only two good things about being a human sacrifice. One was the lovely black pendant the tribal elders had given her to wear. The other was the little Chihuahua dog the high priest had just placed next to her.

  I’ve always wanted a pet, thought Zuma, as the trembling pup snuggled up close. Though this does seem like an extreme way to get one. Zuma lay on an altar at the top of the Great Pyramid. In honour of the mighty Aztec rain god, Tlaloc, she’d been painted bright blue and wore a feathered headdress.

  The entire village had turned out to watch the slave girl being sacrificed in exchange for plentiful rainfall and a good harvest. She could see her master strutting in the crowd below, proud to have supplied the slave for today’s sacrifice. He looked a little relieved too. And Zuma couldn’t blame him. As slaves went, she was a troublesome one, always trying to run away. But she couldn’t help it – her greatest dream was to be free!

  Zuma had spent the entire ten years of her life in slavery, and she was sick of it. She knew she should be honoured to be a sacrifice, but she had a much better plan – to escape!

  “Besides,” she said, frowning at her painted skin, “blue is not my colour!”

  “Hush, slave!” said the high priest, Acalan, his face hidden by a jade mask. “The ceremony is about to begin.” He raised his knife in the air.

  “Shame I’ll be missing it,” said Zuma. “Tell Tlaloc I’d like to take a rain check.” As the priest lowered the knife, she pulled up her knees and kicked him hard in the stomach with both feet.

  “Oof!” The priest doubled over, clutching his belly. The blade clattered to the floor.

  Zuma rolled off the altar, dodging the other priests, who fell over each other in their attempts to catch her. One priest jumped into her path, but the little Chihuahua dog sank his teeth into the man’s ankle. As the priest howled in pain, Zuma whistled to the dog.

  “Nice work, doggie!” she said. “I’m getting out of here and you’re coming with me!” She scooped him up and dashed down the steps of the pyramid.

  “Grab her!” groaned the high priest from above.

  Many hands reached out to catch the slave girl, but Zuma was fast and determined. She bolted towards the jungle bordering the pyramid. Charging into the cool green leaves, she ran until she could no longer hear the shouts of the crowd.

  “We did it,” she said to the dog. “We’re free!”

  As she spoke, the sky erupted in a loud rumble of thunder, making the dog yelp.“Thunder’s nothing to be scared of,” said Zuma.

  “Don’t be so sure about that!” came a deep voice above her.

  Zuma looked up to see a creature with blue skin and long, sharp fangs, like a jaguar. He carried a wooden drum and wore a feathered headdress, just like Zuma’s.

  She knew at once who it was. “Tlaloc!” she gasped.

  The rain god’s bulging eyes glared down at her. “You have dishonoured me!” he bellowed. “No sacrifice has ever escaped before!”

  “Really? I’m the first?” Zuma beamed with pride, but the feeling didn’t last long. Tlaloc’s scowl was too scary. “I’m sorry!” she said quietly. “I just wanted to be free.”

  “You will never be free!” Tlaloc hissed. “Unless you can escape again …”

  Tlaloc banged his drum, and thunder rolled through the jungle.

  He pounded the drum a second time, and thick black clouds gathered high above the treetops.

  “This isn’t looking good,” Zuma whispered. Holding the dog tightly, she closed her eyes.

  On the third deafening drum roll, the jungle floor began to shake and a powerful force tugged at Zuma. She felt her whole body being swallowed up inside … the drum!

  Tom was trying hard to keep a football in the air with his feet. The final of the five-a-side tournament was due to start soon. His Townbridge team-mates were warming up, taking turns to strike practice shots at the goal. At the other end of the pitch, their Riverside School opponents were doing stretching exercises in front of their coach.

  As Tom flicked the ball into the air, Zuma watched him curiously. Her face was painted blue, and her feathered headdress and white robes fluttered in the breeze. Zuma would have been a strange sight at a school football match. However, only Tom could see the slave girl, and Chilli her little Chihuahua, who was scampering around, yapping excitedly.

  Zuma folded her arms. “This is a silly game,” she said. “The Aztec game of Ulama is much better. The goal is smaller – just a stone hoop instead of that great big net. Plus the players use their hips to knock the ball around. It’s very skilful. Why do you use your feet?”

  Tom glanced at her. “It is called football,” he said. “The clue’s in the name.” Distracted, he lost control of the ball. He sighed as it bounced across the pitch, with Chilli chasing after it.

  “Are you sure you should be on the team?” Zuma asked. “You’re not very good at keeping the ball in the air.”

  “I was doing fine until you interrupted,” Tom said. He jogged over and rescued the football from Chilli, who was sniffing it suspiciously.

  “Tom!” Two voices were calling out his name from the sidelines. He turned to see his mum and dad waving at him.

  “Good luck!” Mum shouted, clapping.

  “Townbridge for the cup!” added his dad.

  Tom waved back, giving his parents the thumbs up.

  “Er, Tom?” Zuma called out. “The rest of your team is talking to that bald man.”

  Tom looked across. His team-mates had gone into a huddle round Mr Simmons, the coach. The match was about to start. “Uh-oh!” he said. “Better go.”

  As Tom walked away, Zuma ran over to the football he had left behind. Pulling back her foot, she kicked it as hard as she could across the pitch. Tom’s eyes widened as he watched the ball sail through the air.

  Smack! It hit Mr Simmons right on the back of his head.

  The coach whirled round. “Tom Sullivan!” he shouted. “What do you think you’re playing at?”

  “It wa––” Tom started to say. Then he stopped. He could hardly tell the coach an invisible Aztec slave girl had kicked the ball … He looked down at his feet, his face burning with shame. “Sorry, Mr Simmons,” he said. “It was an accident.”

  “I can�
��t believe you’re messing around now,” said the coach. “As you can’t take the game seriously, you can sit on the substitute’s bench.” He pointed to a bench next to the pitch.

  Tom’s face went even redder – how could this happen in front of his mum and dad? He nodded miserably and walked off the pitch. Zuma and Chilli trailed after him.

  “I’m sorry, Tom,” said Zuma. “I never meant to hit him, I promise.”

  Tom sat down and folded his arms, ignoring her. He watched as the two teams took their positions. A strong gust of wind had started up, whipping across the pitch. The referee blew his whistle and the match kicked off.

  Immediately, Riverside went on the attack. But Tom wasn’t watching the game. He was looking up at the sky, which was suddenly filled with dark storm clouds. Fat raindrops splattered on his head. Chilli growled.

  “Oh no!” groaned the boy sitting next to Tom. “Rain! You know what that means. The pitch is going to get muddy.”

  But Tom knew what it really meant – Tlaloc, the Aztec rain god, was on his way. Since the day Tom had accidentally released Zuma and Chilli from the drum in his dad’s museum, the three of them had been travelling through time, searching for six golden coins that Tlaloc had scattered through history. Now only one coin remained. If they found it, Zuma would win back her former life, and her freedom.

  There was a loud “Oooh!” from the crowd as one of the Riverside players hit the post.

  But Tom wasn’t paying attention to the action on the pitch. He was watching Tlaloc’s face appear in the storm clouds above. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Two bulging eyes stared out from beneath a feathered headdress. Tlaloc opened his mouth to speak, revealing two rows of sharp, pointed teeth.

  “Tremble, mortals!” Tlaloc’s thunderous voice shook the ground. “You may have found five of my coins, but your adventure ends here. You will never find the sixth.”

  “Oh yeah?” Zuma rose to her feet.

  “We’ve done it so far. This time will be no different.”

  “Zuma’s right,” said Tom. “Not even your horrible tricks can stop us.”

  Tlaloc’s face twisted into a snarl. The rain poured down even harder. “Do not be so sure, little boy!” he roared in a vicious gust of wind that almost knocked Tom off his feet. “You have done well to survive this long, but I have saved the most difficult and dangerous test until last.” The god’s snarl turned into horrible laughter. “It spells certain doom!”

  “You said that last time,” muttered Zuma.

  Tom couldn’t help grinning.

  “Smile while you can, mortal!” bellowed Tlaloc. “Soon I will be the one smiling – at your pitiful screams and tears.”

  Tom opened his mouth to reply, but it was too late. Tlaloc had gone. The rain eased, and a sparkling mist rolled across the football pitch. Tom reached out and grabbed Zuma’s hand. Chilli barked and Zuma scooped him up. “Good doggie,” she said, “it’s all right, we’re just going on another little trip.”

  The ground fell away beneath Tom’s feet. Wrapped up in the twinkling mist, he began floating through the tunnels of time.

  As they travelled back through time, Tom could feel his heart thumping in his chest. They had already gone to some very dangerous places, from the Wild West to the harsh Australian outback, but what was in store for them now? The god was cruel enough to send them anywhere – to the inside of a volcano, or the bottom of the ocean!

  So he was relieved when the sparkling mist faded and he felt solid ground beneath his feet. Tom looked round quickly, and gasped. It looked like some kind of paradise. There were tall trees everywhere and thick bushes of emerald green. Flowers blazed in every colour of the rainbow. A waterfall poured over rocks into a crystal-clear pool.

  Tom wiped his forehead. Wherever they were, it was hot. He was already sweating.

  Zuma squealed with delight. “My old clothes!” she said happily. “The jungle! I’m home!”

  Tom turned to see Zuma dancing for joy. Chilli was scampering happily around her feet. The slave girl’s headdress and blue paint had disappeared. Now she was wearing a loose white blouse with short sleeves and a white skirt, both with bright red bands sewn along the bottom. Her dark hair was loose and shining. Only the gleaming black pendant she always wore round her neck remained.

  Zuma stopped dancing and looked at Tom. “Nice clothes,” she giggled.

  Looking down, Tom saw that his football kit was gone. Instead he was dressed in a blue cloak, with a white cloth wrapped round his waist like a short skirt. “Thanks,” he said, blushing. He pulled the cloak round himself to hide his bare chest and legs.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Zuma smiled. “It’s too hot here in Mexico to wear lots of clothes.”

  Tom would have preferred a T-shirt and shorts, but Zuma was right – it was hot and steamy, even beneath the shady trees. “So we’re back in Aztec times?” he said, looking around. “Cool!”

  “Wait until you see one of our cities,” Zuma replied. A dreamy look crossed her face. “There are pyramids shining beneath the sun, great squares …”

  “… and human sacrifices,” Tom reminded her. “It may be your home, but don’t forget how dangerous it is. Tlaloc said it would be our toughest challenge yet.” He pointed at the black stone hanging round Zuma’s neck. “Let’s ask your necklace for help.”

  Zuma’s pendant was magical and gave them clues to where Tlaloc had hidden the coins. “OK,” she sighed. “But it will only be another silly riddle.”

  Tom grinned. Unlike the Aztec girl, he enjoyed trying to work out the pendant’s clues. He watched with excitement as Zuma held up the black disc and began chanting softly:

  “Mirror, mirror, on a chain,

  Can you help us? Please explain!

  We are lost and must be told

  How to find the coins of gold.”

  Tom and Zuma leaned over the pendant as ghostly white words appeared on the stone:

  Find the city on the eagle’s path;

  Use the stream to escape a god’s wrath.

  Beware the man who bears a disguise;

  A false face hides the ultimate prize.

  When fur and feathers fight for control,

  The ring of stone is your ultimate goal.

  Climb up to the house of rain;

  The flying spear will end your pain.

  As the words faded away, Tom saw that Zuma had gone pale. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “For once I understand some of this,” she replied softly. “I think the house of rain means Tlaloc’s temple in the Aztec capital, Tenochtitlán. That’s where I was nearly sacrificed.”

  During their adventures together, Zuma had proved her bravery over and over again. This was the first time Tom had seen her look nervous. Then again, it wasn’t that surprising. The last time she had visited Tlaloc’s temple, the slave girl had only just escaped with her life.

  “Don’t worry,” Tom said. “I’ll be with you this time.”

  Zuma smiled as Chilli jumped up, putting his front paws on her knee. “I know, little doggie, you’ll be there too.” She grinned at the Chihuahua. “And we got out together before, didn’t we?”

  “The sooner we find Tlaloc’s coin, the sooner you won’t have to worry any more,” Tom said firmly. “So let’s get started. The riddle said we have to find the city on the eagle’s path. Any idea what that means?”

  Zuma shrugged and said, “I got the bit about the house of rain, but the rest is gibberish to me. Anyway, you’re the brainbox. I don’t see why I should have to solve it all—”

  The slave girl froze. Following her gaze, Tom saw that a nearby bush was rustling. He crouched down and peered through the leaves. A furry, cat-like creature was hiding in the undergrowth!

  Tom gulped. He had read about the dangerous animals you might meet in the jungle. Without weapons, he and Zuma wouldn’t stand a chance. As the bush rustled again and the creature emerged, he realised there was no time to run …

  “Oh no,�
�� hissed Zuma. “It’s a jaguar!”

  They were going to be a big cat’s dinner!

  With a snarl, the creature burst through the bushes, pouncing on Tom in a blur of gold and black. Tom was knocked off his feet and pinned to the ground. He didn’t even have time to cry out. He closed his eyes and waited for the jaguar to finish him off.

  Instead, he heard the sound of mocking laughter.

  Tom’s eyes snapped open. It wasn’t a cat sitting on his chest, but an Aztec boy about his age. The boy was wearing a cloak made out of jaguar skin. His fierce-looking helmet was made from the big cat’s head.

  Tom sighed with relief. He couldn’t fight a jaguar with his bare hands, but another boy was a different matter. Gathering all his strength, Tom grabbed hold of his attacker and threw him off his chest, sending them both rolling across the ground. The boy was fast and strong, however. Before Tom could pin him down, he twisted Tom’s arm up his back and pushed his face into the dirt. Pain shot through Tom’s shoulder. He cried out.

  “Hey, you!” Zuma shouted. “Leave my friend alone!”

  There was a loud thump, and the grip on Tom’s arm was suddenly released. Spinning round, he saw his attacker on his knees, rubbing the back of his head. Zuma had a heavy branch in her hands, and looked ready to swing it again.

  The Aztec boy glared at her, anger burning in his eyes. “You will pay for daring to cross Zolin the Jaguar Warrior,” he snarled.

  Thanks to Tlaloc’s magic, Tom could understand every word Zolin said. It had been the same in every time period they had visited, even the Stone Age.

  “You’re not a Jaguar Warrior,” Zuma said crossly. “They’re noble Aztec warriors. They don’t go around jumping on innocent travellers.”

  Zolin jerked his head at Tom. “He’s no innocent traveller,” he said. “Look at his pale skin and yellow hair! He must be a spy for some kind of enemy army.”

  “Don’t be silly,” snapped Zuma. “I’m a proud Aztec. Why would I travel with an enemy spy?”