The Smoking Mirror

by David Bowles

  “I am a god, little one. Of course I know.”

  Carol scoffed. “You’re a cruel god. By the time they got to the Valley of Mexico, the Aztecs had really changed, huh? Human sacrifice…that was your idea, wasn’t it? Conquering weaker nations, slaughtering men, women and children to make sure the sun would rise. All that tragedy.”

  The god made a dismissive gesture. “Oh, enough. You and your Western notions of right and wrong. My people were not some pasty European race. They were warriors. The conquest of Mexico was their birthright.”

  “Whatever.” Carol shook her head and stood, her shoelaces tied. “What’s right is right and what’s wrong is wrong, no matter what. Cruelty and murder are evil anywhere. Some god you turned out to be. My dad says you were probably just a human leader who got elevated to divine status after his death.”

  Huitzilopochtli crossed the space between them in three broad strides. “Do I look like a mere man to you, child? For a thousand years I walked among the people that would become the Mexica, sustained by cehualli, preparing the way for their dark destiny. No human elevated me to divinity, you stinking wolf. I won apotheosis by my own hands. I was translated to a perfect state through the power I alone learned to wield.”

  Carol suddenly understood. “Human sacrifice. That’s how you got access to the shadow magic. And that’s why you needed the empire, the Flower Wars, the temple steps all covered in blood and your name at the top of the list of gods…Tell me the truth. You didn’t come up with the idea by yourself, did you? Somebody else showed you how to use cehualli and how to prep the Mexica, right? Maybe Tezcatlipoca?”

  The god’s blue eyes flamed with rage, like twin shards of brimstone in the nethermost regions of Hell. Carol knew she was in great danger, but she couldn’t stop. Her only chance for escape required she push this petty deity to his limits. “I wonder what sort of a people my ancestors would’ve been if they’d worshipped, say, Quetzalcoatl as their main god.”

  “Do not pronounce his name here, foolish girl.” Huitzilopochtli’s voice was cold and brittle. “His protection is meaningless in Mictlan. Besides, the feathery worm knows the truth: human life was stolen. He stole it. A price must be paid for it to continue. And his own temples flowed with the blood of sacrifice as well, lest you forget.”

  “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t his idea.”

  Huitzilopochtli lifted his dart and pointed it at her menacingly. “You are too trusting of the worm and his mutt. But they cannot protect you. They cannot save your mother, either. You have mentioned Tezcatlipoca. In truth, he is a mighty force, one to which I bend my knee gladly. Under his aegis, I shall once again rule over humanity, and the blood of thousands will imbue my spirit with unimaginable might!”

  His voice made her tremble, but she smirked as bravely as she could. “We won’t let you. Me and Johnny. Xolotl. Quetzalcoatl. Tonantzin, the mother of all.”

  He simply stared at her, apoplectic. Almost there.

  “Here I stand, the god of your ancestors, and you spit defiance at me. You are like Malintzín, turning your back on your people.”

  Carol knew he meant Malinalli Tenepal, the indigenous princess whose knowledge had helped Hernán Cortes defeat the Aztecs, the empire the young woman had blamed for the tragedies in her life. “They weren’t her people. Her people had to pay tribute to the Mexica. She probably believed she was helping to free them. Her only mistake was thinking the Spaniards would be much better. Their view of the universe was also pretty messed up. I’ll bet Tezcatlipoca had something to do with that, too. Didn’t it ever occur to you that maybe he was pitting both sides against each other? He loves chaos and destruction, no? Wants to see the world end? Where do you fit in as god of humanity if they’re all dead?”

  Now. He’ll hit me, throwing me toward his monster snake, and I’ll get my chance. It’ll hurt, but I’ll heal quick.

  Instead, Huitzilopochtli lowered his dart and nodded, his expression softening slightly. With a careless gesture, he let his shield tumble from his hand. It slapped against the black stone with a dull thud.

  “I must admit, Carolina Garza,” he said, his voice raspy with odd emotion, “that you indeed have a point. Truth be told, this conundrum is why I had you brought here. You understand, do you not, what the Dark Lord intends to do? He means to break you and your brother, to unhinge your minds or twist your wills so that you freely elect to place your xoxal into his hands. Bringing together his shadow sorcery and your savage magic, he will burst open the prison that contains the Tzitzimime, ancient star demons eager for your world’s destruction.”

  Carol trembled, and not just at the frustration of her plan. Though she had basically figured out Tezcatlipoca’s endgame, to hear it stated so matter-of-factly was frightening. Still, she clung to the shreds of her bravery, keeping her head high.

  “We’re not that easy to break.”

  The blue god’s fist tightened around the dart as his free hand cut sharply through the acrid air. “He has broken emperors, philosophers, saints, gods. I assure you there is no other possible outcome if you continue along the Black Road.”

  “If we continue. As opposed to what, exactly?”

  Huitzilopochtli reached out and touched her cheek. She felt a nervous surge within her, a burble of feelings she couldn’t decipher. Was that really me, or did he make that happen? Either way…Gross!

  “You ally with me. I can rally much of Mictlan under my banner, and together we can march against him and his boney puppets. Enemy of my enemy and so forth.”

  Carol felt absolutely no desire to join forces with the bloodthirsty deity. Nor did she believe for a second that he really wanted to overthrow Tezcatlipoca. But if I play along some, maybe I can still make my plan work.

  “How can you expect me to trust you? I…I won’t lie. It’s been really hard, and I’m not sure we can make it to the center, much less take him on. But you…You want to rule the world. You say you need our help, but what happens after?”

  “You can trust me,” muttered the Aztec god of war, “because I am telling you the truth. Once we have defeated Tezcatlipoca, I shall demand your loyalty. And if you choose to defy my sovereignty, I shall kill you. Until then, however, we can work as…equals.”

  Yeah, right . “Prove it, then. Take your spell away so I can move around.”

  Huitzilopochtli shrugged and made a slight gesture with his right hand. “You have been released, but I caution you. Should you attempt to wield your savage magic against me, my fire serpents will rend you to bloody bits.”

  “You’re a real charmer. Do all your potential allies get this treatment? Oh, yeah, I forgot. The Empire.” She stretched and inched slightly toward Xiuhcoatl. “Okay, if we’re really going to hash this out, I need Johnny here. I can’t make a decision without him agreeing to it.”

  Nodding, the god lifted his head toward the gray sky. After a second or two, his eyes narrowed. “How odd.”

  “What?” Carol took another step to her left.

  “I have called out to Tlecoatl, the serpent that has your sibling in its care, but it does not respond.” He grew grim and bristled with cold ire. “For your sake, I hope…”

  The Mexica god of war was unable to finish his sentence. Several things happened in very quick succession. A blue-green cloud hurtled down at Huitzilopochtli from above, surrounding him in a whirring blur that pulled at his cape and headdress, throwing him off-balance. Xiuhcoatl gave a roar of rage and leapt into the air. Carol threw herself to the ground, reaching her hand out and grasping the scale, setting her tonal free. Slipping from her clothes as her limbs retracted and reformed, she began to quickly grow in size. Deep in her belly fire rumbled hungrily, and her massive wings arched as they drew the acrid air downward, lifting her bulk above the black temple. Immediately she saw that the blue-green blur consisted of nearly a hundred hummingbirds, their needle-like beaks pricking repeatedly at the masked god.

  Carol, it’s me!

  Which one?

&n
bsp; ALL of them! Hurry, while I’ve got him freaked out.

  Xiuhcoatl dove toward the cloud of birds, fire trembling in its jaws. Carol lashed out with the lower half of her body, striking the other serpent and sending it spinning toward Huitzilopochtli, spraying flame and smoke in haphazard spirals. The hummingbirds ripped the black cape away right before Xiuhcoatl struck his master full on, catapulting the god off the temple. Enraged, the serpent recovered and swooped toward the figure now hurtling toward the river of lava.

  Huitzilopochtli stretched out his arms and halted mid-fall. Xiuhcoatl ducked below him, and the god of war straddled the flying serpent like a steed. Together they focused on the charm of hummingbirds, their fire and dark energy building with a groaning thrum that Carol could feel in her very bones. The feathered bits of Johnny flew together at the top of the temple, coalescing into the twelve-year-old boy, who wore the stolen cape draped around his unclothed body. Stooping quickly, he grabbed Huitzilopochtli’s shield and, remaining in a crouch, lifted it before him just as a blast of flame and blue energy hit.

  Johnny! Her fear for her brother’s life and her rage surged within her. Her tonal, eager to release the fire that burned in her gut, hungrily soaked up the savage magic that her emotions tapped. As a white-hot stream blazed from her impervious jaws, she saw that the obsidian mirror at the center of the shield was reflecting most of the attack, hurling it back at Huitzilopochtli. Her fire and the ricochet merged and slammed into the god of war and his serpent, shoving them violently into the stream of lava below.

  “Carol!” Johnny screamed, standing. “Let’s get the hell out of here, quick!”

  He gripped the black cape tightly about him and transformed, becoming an enormous harpy eagle. The cape melted into his morphed flesh. With razor sharp talons he scooped up the shield and took to the gray, ash-filled sky.

  That was much better than the lechuza, huh? I think I figured out the clothes trick. Good thing, too. That other snake burned mine up.

  Carol dipped her tail down, curled the tip around her own clothes, shoes and water jug, and followed him out of the caldera.

  How did you get free?

  I grabbed the little feather and figured I’d shift into a small bird, get away. But like halfway through the transformation my tonal kind of refused to go smaller, like maybe there’s a limit or something. I was panicking, but the idea of a whole flock of birds popped into my head, and I guess I used xoxal to make it happen.

  Carol did a barrel-roll to avoid a plume of ash lifting from a crater below. Does it feel weird?

  What, being spread across a hundred little brains? Uh, yeah. But kinda cool, too. All these little parts of me that I’m not normally aware of? They got to work together. You’ll have to try it. But maybe not when you’re being pursued by a dragon-thingy. I tried to keep my clothes draped across a bunch of hummingbirds, but it blew fire on us, on me, I mean, and that was that. But I could maneuver better. I led it to a field of, like, steam geysers. Eventually one erupted right in our flight path. I managed to get out of the way, but the snake got barbecued.

  Well, thank God you showed up when you did.

  That was an Aztec demon?

  God. Huitzilopochtli. He was trying to convince me that we needed to join up with him and overthrow Tezcatlipoca…and then install him as ruler of humanity.

  Uh, megalomaniac much?

  Right? But, uh, like the doppelgangers, his real purpose was to get me scared, I think. Make me doubt myself, doubt our ability to rescue Mom.

  Heh. The moron basically gave us two more weapons to use. This cape is really powerful, Carol. I think Huitzi-whatever was a nagual, too. And his shield…You saw how it deflected all that power.

  Yes, but, Johnny, those belonged to a man who became a god using cehualli. I don’t think you can trust the shield or the cape. Promise me that the minute you sense something wrong, you’ll get rid of them.

  Waves of reassurance came from her brother. Of course, sis. But I think I can handle them fine.

  Still, Carol worried as her massive wings rode the hot wind. What if the point of this desert had been to put those weapons in her brother’s hands? She’d have to keep careful watch. Johnny had a habit of overestimating his own abilities. Since he was good at nearly everything he tried, he was never really prepared for the times when he sucked at something, and he would sometimes end up over his head in trouble as a result.

  Carol’s concern took a backseat as the beating of dozens of massive wings came from all around them. A group of fire-breathing flying serpents was converging on them, presumably furious at what the twins had done to their master. Johnny turned and flew backwards, raising the shield with his talons to deflect their flaming attacks. Carol ducked and weaved as she flew, narrowly avoiding streams of fire. When a wyrm would get too close, she’d blast it from the sky with her xoxal-enhanced blaze.

  In this way the twins were chased through yellow, sulfuric clouds and mists of cooling steam. Below them, the lava fields and geysers gradually gave way to a vast, ashen plain. The wyrms gave a final shriek of rage and turned aside.

  Five deserts down. Four more to go.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Johnny lowered himself to the ash-covered ground and shifted back into his human form. As he did so, he envisioned the black eaglet-down cape morphing into shirt, pants and shoes; the same as before when he’d absorbed it into the skin of his harpy eagle form. His savage magic manipulated the physical properties of the leather and feather garment, and soon he was fully clothed. Picking up the stolen shield, he slipped his arm through the inner strap and slung it over his shoulder.

  The legless dragon that settled down beside him gave an annoyed grunt.

  “Yeah, I know. I rock, huh?” Carol gestured with her huge, reptilian head. “What? Oh, turn around? Got it.”

  He gave her his back and looked around at the emptiness. White ash covered a completely flat plain as far as the eye could see. He noticed the ash had already begun to chalk up the black books he had materialized from the cape.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have chosen black,” his sister said. He turned in time to see her hopping on one foot as she struggled to pull on her shoes.

  “Yeah, well, I’m learning as I go along. It’s like, I don’t know, harnessing lightning. The power’s inside us, but we’re pretty clueless about how to use it. Seems like need and desperation are the keys, though.”

  “Ah, you were desperately in need of not running around butt-naked through the Underworld,” Carol quipped with a smile.

  “Exactly. So, okay, ash. I would say that it doesn’t seem like that big a deal, but, yeah, there’s probably a catch that Big Red forgot to mention. So let’s check. I’ve got the cape and the shield, but I lost my water. You still have yours, right?”

  Carol patted the corked clay jug dangling from a belt loop. “Yeah. And the bag of jewels is still in my pocket. Since when are you Mr. let’s-get-organized? I swear, give a boy a little savage magic and he starts acting like he’s in charge.”

  “Oh, pardon me, boss. Should we start walking, ma’am?”

  Carol rolled her eyes. “Come on, smart-alec.”

  As they trudged across the barren landscape, Carol explained in more detail what had transpired on the obsidian pyramid.

  “Wow, okay. So human sacrifice. That’s how he got his mojo.”

  Carol nodded, swallowing heavily. “Pretty twisted. All those innocent victims.”

  “Well, I don’t know, Carol. Didn’t our social studies teacher tell us last year that most of the people who got sacrificed wanted it? Volunteered or whatever?”

  The look of disgust on his sister’s face was predictable. She tended to get on a moral high horse about certain subjects, and getting her to see alternative perspectives was pretty hard. “The ones that volunteered were brainwashed by their priests and leaders. And most of the volunteers were captives, taken during the Flower Wars.”

  “Right. They were warriors. They figured dy
ing that way was honorable, no?”

  “They were dying for a lie, Johnny,” Carol spat back. “The sun would’ve kept shining without their deaths. The universe wouldn’t have come to an end.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I’ve seen some weird stuff down here that makes me, you know, not want to assume anything anymore.”

  She looked at him like he was insane. “They sacrificed children, too. Look, the one thing we know for sure? Human sacrifice generates cehualli. I’ve been attacked by that shadow sorcery, and it’s evil. Ergo, those traditions were wrong.”

  “Look, I agree with what you’re saying, basically. I just don’t want you to blame our ancestors or to make them out to be all bad.”

  Carol softened a bit. “No, of course not. The Aztecs were a great people. In terms of culture, science and guts, I admire them. Now that I know their gods actually exist, I definitely can’t blame them for doing whatever they could to appease the dark ones. No, I am angry at the gods themselves, Johnny. They’re the bad guys here.”

  “So, speaking of dark gods and stuff…Were you tempted? Even a little bit? I mean, in the movies you always see chicks falling for the old, powerful supernatural guys. You know, vampires and stuff.”

  “No way. That’s just gross. He’s like two thousand years old, Johnny.” Her expression went thoughtful for a second. “And besides, he wasn’t even cute or anything.”

  Johnny laughed. “I hope Tezcatlipoca’s not listening in. All he needs to do is send some hot-looking demon, huh?”

  “Shut up. That’s stupid.” She smiled at him as she gave him a little shove. “I’m barely going to be an eighth-grader. I don’t even think about stuff like that.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  They joked at each other’s expense while they followed the Black Road, barely visible beneath the ash. Soon they were stained to the knees with the white powder. Johnny was reminded of some of the empty lots between their house and Veterans Middle School, where semi-trucks parked sometimes, waiting to load or unload at a nearby warehouse. He’d run through those dusty, barren plots of land several times, trying to avoid a fight with some wannabe gangster. His father didn’t approve of fights. If someone picks on you or makes your life difficult, tell your teachers. Tell the principal. Of course, what Dr. Garza didn’t seem to realize was that the teachers didn’t want to get involved, and the principal was just collecting a paycheck. Some days it seemed there was virtually no discipline. A series of food fights in April had even led to the arrival of a bunch of extra administrators from central office to keep an eye on the kids for a few weeks.