The Smoking Mirror

by David Bowles

  “Crap. Okay.” Johnny reacted quickly, by instinct. “Here’s what we do. I’ll shift and draw the cats away. You make a run for the next desert. When you’re there, start calling me with xoxal. I’ll circle back and find you.”

  “Wait!” Carol’ cried. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to split up, Johnny. I’m pretty sure that’s what he…”

  Ignoring her, his tonal eager like never before, Johnny transformed and began to run, leaving his clothes, and Carol, forgotten. Twisting along the troughs between dunes, he gave full rein to his animal side, letting it push itself to extremes of speed and endurance. He reached deep within himself to the place that could hear Carol’s voice and drew on the vast reserves of energy he found waiting for him. With impossible velocity, he made himself an irresistible target for the range of monstrous cats, and they poured through the wilderness after him, growling and hissing in rage.

  Carol called to him faintly, twice, but their connection was soon severed by distance. The jamboree gradually spread itself across the dunes, the largest and fastest jaguars and pumas in front, their enormous paws eating up the yards between them and Johnny.

  The alpha hurled roars and grunts and hisses at him that Johnny didn’t understand. Slowly, as his tonal drew more and more xoxal to maintain its incredible speed and the noises coalesced into words.

  “You cannot outrun me, young nagual!” the black puma was calling. “I am Acolmiztli, Lord of the Balamija, guardian of Mictlan. No living human has ever wormed his way past me!”

  By impulse, Johnny shouted over his shoulder in the feline tongue, “Well, there’s a first time for everything, little kitty!”

  “What did you call me?” Acomiztli roared.

  “Here, kitty-kitty! Come and get me!” With every fiber of his being, Johnny squeezed as much speed out of his jaguar form as magic permitted. Gouts of sand erupted all around him as he blazed through the low hills.

  Then he emerged into a circular clearing, ringed by stunted trees and high dunes. In the middle, a dozen giants stood waiting. As he scrambled to slow down and avoid them, one shifted before his eyes, becoming a massive jaguar. Its right forepaw, the size of Johnny’s entire body, slammed into him, hurling him against a dune.

  Dazed, Johnny struggled to stand on legs that had suddenly gone slack. The other giants metamorphosed into equally large jaguars and surrounded him. Within seconds, Acomiztli leapt into the clearing, bellowing in anger. The black puma shook itself savagely and approached, its head low. The gigantic jaguars stepped aside.

  Oh, no.

  “So you are the mighty nagual come to wreak havoc upon us, are you? A puny, meager jaguar. More of an ocelot, if truth be told. It will give great pleasure to add you to the Balamija…as a groomer. You will spend the rest of your days picking ticks from the fur of your betters, human.”

  “Screw you,” Johnny spat. He searched his memory of animal documentaries for a term this feline would find horribly insulting. “I’ll never bow down to your little glaring of gibs.”

  “Gibs, you call us? We shall see.” Acomiztli turned to the shape-shifted giants. “Tukumbalam, Kotzbalam.Hold him down.”

  Fear crowded into his mind, sending both his human and animal souls into a tizzy. But his jerking attempts to escape were useless. Two of the huge jaguars used their oversized paws to hold him down. Their leader leaned close.

  “Goodbye, human.”

  He placed his black forepaw on Johnny’s neck and began to press. Slowly the wilderness began to fade to black. As if in a dream, he remembered Xolotl’s words: “You may nonetheless be tempted to eat or sleep. Do not.”

  Great, Johnny thought. And then he slipped into unconsciousness.

  ~~~

  The young jaguar awakened, confused. Around him he sensed dozens of others, mostly males. It was strange for them to be all together. The young jaguar wanted to bolt.

  “Ah, you’re awake.”

  A medium-sized black cat—not a puma, but a melanistic jaguar—stood nearby.

  “What…where…who?”

  “They told me you might not remember anything. That’s okay. I’m Itzocelotl. We just had a scrape with snatch-bats. You took a pretty serious blow to the head.”

  “Snatch-bats?”

  “Yeah, the kamasotzob. Vicious, enormous? Our eternal rivals?”

  The young jaguar shook his head. “Start smaller. Who are we? Who am I?”

  “We’re the Balamija, the feline guardians of the Underworld. We patrol this strip of wilderness, making sure nothing except dead human souls cross. And you? You’re Chipohyoh, groomer for the nahualocelomeh.”

  Chipohyoh whisked his tail in confusion. Not even his own name stirred any recognition within him. “None of this seems familiar. Who are the nahualocelomeh?”

  “There’s one over there. See the really big jaguar ordering those pumas around? That’s Tukumbalam. He is one of about twenty, all told. They’re quite old, from the First Age. Were-jaguars, formed by mighty Tezcatlipoca to destroy the arrogant giants that the Feathered Snake had crafted to rule the earth. In fact, they’re basically the first jaguars ever, based on the tonal of the Dark Lord himself.”

  Chipohyoh had to admit that the gigantic cat did look very powerful and very old. Its hide was crisscrossed with a netting of scars from millennia of battles. “Okay, so I’m their groomer. Like…removing nits and stuff?”

  Itzocelotl pulled black lips back in a toothy smile. “Oh, yes.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much fun.”

  “Oh, you love your job. You brag constantly about the time you get to spend with the Old Ones.”

  As Chipohyoh mulled this over, searching for any clue within himself that could contradict a reality that didn’t fit, a huge black puma, only a bit smaller than the scarred nahualocelotl, padded in regally.

  “A new cluster of souls is making its way along the Green Road, victims of unexpected violence in southern Mexico, it seems. Tukumbalam, take your range and converge on them. Harry them until they are near breaking, then return.”

  “Of course, Lord. Always a pleasure to strip humanity from naïve, unprepared souls.”

  “And Tukumbalam? Take your groomer with you. Perhaps another blow to his head might set him to rights.”

  “As you wish. Chipohyoh, to me.”

  The young feline hurried to the were-jaguar’s side.

  “Itzocelotl, round up the rest. We leave upon my signal.”

  As the big cats dashed about, preparing for the sortie, Chipohyoh looked up at his enormous master and then at the retreating haunches of the black puma. “Sir, uh, who was that?”

  The nahualocelotl looked down at him bemusedly. “That was Acomiztli, Lord of the Balamija. Now, quickly, I’ve a tick burrowing into my chest. Dig it out for me, will you?”

  Feeling strangely humiliated, the young jaguar nuzzled the broad stretch of white between Tukumbalam’s forelegs. He found the tick easily, seized it between his teeth and yanked it free.

  “Perfect. Now let’s away. Do try and keep up, little one.”

  They rounded a dune and found about a dozen jaguars and pumas of various sizes and colors awaiting orders. Tukumbalam roared his signal, and the felines exploded into movement. Chipohyoh ran alongside his master, the brutal pace surprisingly easy to maintain. If I’m this fast, why am I just a groomer? It doesn’t make any sense.

  Their journey seemed interminable, up and over and around dunes, over shattered bones, toward the Green Road (whatever that was). But running with his range gave Chipohyoh an unusual feeling of strength and surety: he was part of something bigger than him, with mighty brothers who would fight at his side. Though he could remember little else, the young jaguar felt that he had been alone for a long time, without a group to belong to. Despite his deep confusion, he was glad, at this moment, to be part of the Balamija.

  Soon the dunes flattened into a plain of scalloped sand through which threaded a host of glowing lights, stretched single-file along t
he horizon. Souls, the young jaguar realized. Human souls. He felt an inexplicable pang of regret.

  “Brothers!” cried Tukumbalam. “Let’s make them drop their bones!”

  The group descended on the souls, snarling and snapping. Chipohyoh saw as he approached the features etched faintly in the glow: men and women and children, fearful and confused. As the aggression of the felines increased, many of them shuddered, and bones fell tumbling.

  Stripping their humanity away. They were trying to cling to the memory of who they were, I bet. And these…beasts…

  Something inside him twisted. His sense of belonging evaporated like a mirage.

  This is wrong. I’m wrong.

  The young jaguar stood unmoving, staring at the harried travelers, glowing golden under the gloaming sky. From the souls, a shivering moaning filled the air.

  “Come on, Chipohyoh. Do you want to be a groomer forever?” It was Itzocelotl, his teeth bared in a knowing grin. “You need to cut your teeth on one of these glow-worms.”

  Before he could respond, the young jaguar’s innards resounded with a bright, desperate call: JOHNNY!

  “What the…Did you hear that?”

  It’s me, Johnny! Look up!

  Unsure of what was going on, Chipohyoh raised his spotted head and saw a hundred or more dark forms streaking toward him through the sky.

  “Snatch-bats!” growled a red puma, and hearing him, the group wheeled about to face their rivals. One of the enormous flying creatures spun away from the horde and descended toward Chipohyoh.

  Come on! It’s me! The big bat flying right at you is me, moron! Get moving!

  How are you doing this? How can you speak into my mind like this?

  Johnny, hello…it’s the xoxal magic! We spent hours earlier today, yesterday, whenever it was, communicating with our souls.

  What? Who are you? Why do you keep calling me ‘Johnny’?

  The bat landed in front of him and leaned its fox-like snout close to his. I’m your sister Carol, for God’s sake! You’re Johnny, my brother!

  No. They told me my name is Chipohyoh. And how can I be the brother of a bat?

  I’m not a bat. You’re not a jaguar. We are humans, remember? What did they do to you?

  All around them the kamasotzob were attacking the Balamija, obsidian claws sinking into feline flesh. The powerful jaws of the jaguars and pumas managed to crush some of the snatch-bats, but there were too many, and slowly the cats were routed or destroyed. The red puma, seeing Chipohyoh face to face with the enemy, came charging with jaws gaping at the creature that called itself Carol.

  Here goes nothing , the voice whispered in the jaguar’s head. The bat wrapped its wings about itself and pulled into a crouch. It closed its eyes and began to tremble and began to change. Its brown fur drew back into its skin, its wings shrunk to two arms, its golden ruff became frizzy brown hair and its snout squeezed down into the features of a human; a young girl.

  “Johnny,” she whimpered. “Save me.”

  Like an explosion, Johnny’s human soul pulled away from its tonal, his memories restored. He leapt into the air, claws extended, and slammed into the puma before it clamped its jaws around his sister’s head. They rolled in the sand, reaching for each other’s throats, ears pressed back against their heads, snarls rasping their throats. The red puma, older and stronger, flipped Johnny onto his back. Just as its maw descended toward Johnny’s jugular, a snatch-bat swooped down and sliced off its head. Johnny shoved the body away and stood.

  Now come on! Carol projected at him. This diversion’s only going to last a little longer, Johnny!

  He followed the bat as it winged its way through the sky, turning toward the center of Mictlan and gradually curving back toward the Black Road.

  I fell asleep , Johnny tried to explain. Well, they knocked me out. When I woke up, I don’t know…I couldn’t remember who I was. They made me think I was one of them, Carol. I’m sorry.

  It’s okay. I found you. We’re safe. That’s all that matters.

  He stared up at her gruesome form. But, how? I mean, I get that it’s xoxal or whatever, but how’d you figure it out?

  Well, when you rushed off like a big dummy, I tried to bundle up your clothes and mine so I could carry them off. That took too long, and I found myself surrounded by the bats. I took a look at their talons and realized there was one on my necklace. Figuring it would make a good weapon, I grabbed it in my teeth and shifted. And guess what? I shifted into one of them.

  Dude. I bet that surprised the crap out of them.

  Uh, yeah. After a few minutes, I realized I could communicate with them. It took me a while, but I convinced them that if they really wanted to hurt the…uh…

  Balamija?

  …yeah, them, that they should wait until they weren’t all together. After I hid our clothes, I helped them track you guys, in wolf form. I figured that eventually you’d be left alone or the Balamija would split up somehow. When you ran off with them toward the Green Road, I saw my opportunity. I got the bats to wait until you guys were so far away from the rest that they couldn’t come running, and then I suggested that we attack. You know the rest.

  They were approaching dunes that reached higher and higher, merging into rocky hills and steppes.

  I hid our clothes up there, near the edge of the next desert.

  The bats let you come here before tracking us?

  Well, with an escort. They didn’t totally trust me, but they hate the jaguars and pumas more.

  Okay, so this isn’t easy, Johnny said, slipping on some scree. Would it be better if I flew?

  Carol circled back and landed beside him. Examining his bracelet, she nodded.

  There’s a screech owl feather right there. Put it in your mouth and let the tonal find its new form. Just step away, is all. Nothing to it.

  Lifting his foreleg, Johnny used his raspy tongue to pull the feather into his mouth. He felt the eager joy of his tonal and stayed out of its way as it shifted fur into feathers, lightened bones, deleting mass by some unknown magic means. His talons gripped the rock and he spread enormous wings. His transformed eyes, even keener than the jaguar’s, made every detail of the shadowy landscape pop into sharp relief.

  Wow. I’m a freaking lechuza!

  And with two powerful flaps, he was flying.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carol led her feathered brother up the cliffs to the cave where she had stowed their clothing. They took the bundles in their claws and continued their upward spiraling. The sheer rock face seemed to go on forever, and the updrafts that bore them aloft grew thinner and less reliable until they found themselves having to draw on xoxal to give them strength enough to beat their wings and ascend into the colder and higher layers of atmosphere.

  Finally they made it to the top. Perching, exhausted, on boulders that lined the edge of the cliff, they looked out over a vast and snowy mesa. An icy wind swept toward them, ruffling their feathers, chilling their blood. Distant swirls suggested storms of great violence.

  Okay, I think my wolf form can handle this cold better. Turn around, though. I have to get my bundle tied around me. You’d better do the same.

  What? Stand naked in this cold? Are you crazy?

  Well, you can shift right into the jaguar, but you’ll have to carry it in your mouth. Not fun.

  I’ve got a better idea. Hang on.

  Carol watched as her brother’s owl form shuddered and morphed into something halfway between boy and jaguar: covered with fur, but humanoid.

  “Stop tonal halfway,” he growled in a bestial voice. “Warmer.”

  Clever. As her brother tied his clothes bundle about his waist and finished shifting, Carol tried the same trick. Her tonal quivered in frustration, but by concentrating hard, she was able to be a wolf-girl long enough to square her clothes away as well. Then she slipped completely into her lupine shape, complete with an extra winter undercoat. The cold still nipped at her, but it was bearable.

  They
began to trudge across the snow, circling around drifts that had built up near boulders or dead trees. As they advanced, the wind’s velocity seemed to increase steadily until they were forcing their way almost blindly through flurries, guided only by their innate sense of direction. Soon the constant moaning of the wind gave way to something fiercer, a monstrous howling that made the plateau itself shudder beneath their paws.

  What the…Do you feel that, Carol?

  Yes. And, whatever it is, it’s definitely getting closer.

  Squinting through the snowflakes, Carol suddenly saw it: an enormous white whirlwind, twisting its way along the wintery mesa, ripping apart boulders and trees. It was headed straight for them.

  I think we need to run.

  Johnny looked into the distance and saw the snowy tornado as well. Uh, I agree.

  They slanted sideways, running counterclockwise (based on Xolotl’s brief comments, Carol imagined each desert as a circle, like the ones her Pre-AP English teacher said existed in Hell). The whirlwind, seeming to sense them, changed direction abruptly and began to follow.

  It’s coming after us, Johnny!

  Freaking great. Look: there’s a huge outcropping of rock to our right. Seems there’s a hollow spot in the center, kind of like a cave. We can ride out the storm in there.

  Carol wasted no time replying. She pushed her wolf form to its limits, leaping into the space among the rocks just ahead of her brother. They huddled together in the dark, panting, the warmth of their close proximity a welcome change from the bitter cold. The grinding approach of the whirlwind grew louder and louder.

  Thank God we can communicate soul to soul , Carol projected. We wouldn’t be able to hear each other with this noise.

  Yeah. And we’re lucky to find shelter. That tornado means busin…

  The twisting whiteness struck the surrounding rocks and lifted them effortlessly away. The twins stared up into its funnel, a blank black space around which swirled snow, sand and shredded trees.