My fingers shook. A sign. It had to be a sign that he was real. Técun.
Even though I knew the maid would come in later, I made the bed, smoothing the sheets until they were crisp and perfectly flat. I had to find his gate, but where the hell was it? How had I opened his gate in Missouri without a clue, but now that I desperately wanted to find him, I had no idea what to do?
As I showered, I ran through everything he’d said in our dream last night. Water, and my blood. That’s why I’d first found him when I hit my head and fell unconscious into the lake.
Wait a minute. If all it took was blood and water, why couldn’t I bring him through using a bathtub? Before I could convince myself that I’d truly lost it, I plugged the tub and sat down on the edge. I held my silly pink razor, stared at my shaking hand, and decided maybe I’d better lay out some bandages before I cut an artery open.
Usually when I shaved my legs I ended up with at least one wad of tissue paper stuck to my flesh until the bleeding stopped. Today I actually had to grind the razor pretty hard against my thigh before I cut myself. Deeper than I intended, too. Shit, it hurt despite being such a little cut.
Plop by plop, blood dripped onto the water. I held my breath until I was dizzy, swayed, and nearly slipped off the edge to bang my head on the tiled floor. I could just imagine trying to explain that one to Natalie.
Well, you see, I was trying to bring the legendary warrior Técun Úman through an invisible gate in the bathtub, so I cut myself with a razor and then I slipped and hit my head.
She’d probably have me committed.
My stomach pitched so hard I doubled over and clenched my teeth to keep from vomiting all over the floor. Mom had committed suicide. What if…
No. I took deep breaths to calm myself down. A drug overdose had killed her. She hadn’t slit her wrists…or stupidly tried to bring a dead Mayan warrior through her bathtub.
I stuck two Band-Aids on my thigh and glared at myself in the mirror. No more dreams of helpless surrender to my big, bad warrior. No more pretending that a man who died centuries ago would stride into my life and conquer all my demons.
I’ll prove once and for all that Técun Úman is dead and buried by finding his fucking grave.
Chapter Three
1524 Luisa Xicoténcatl Tecubalsi
Translated into Spanish by Leonor de Alvarado y Xiotenega Tecubalsi
Translated by Carla Guzmán Gonzales, 1970
Our savior waits on the other side of the gate. Through water and time, he will pass and walk our world once more. As he has come many times before, he shall come again, but now, only to the call of Tecubalsi magic.
Oh distant daughter who is destined to call him, use the magic in your blood. He is bound to our blood for all time. When your need is great and the day is dark, only he can turn back the tide of the greatest evil. Nothing dare stand against him.
The earth will tremble before his power and the volcanoes spew ash and fire at the thought of his majesty. When the sun is cloaked in darkness, Great Feathered Serpent will shine bright, spreading his quetzal wings across the sky.
He will rise for Tecubalsi. He will rise for you.
* * *
Natalie frowned down at her travel guide I’d filled with color-coded Post-it notes for each vacation day. “I only caught a glimpse of Antigua so far. Are you sure you want to drive so far when we have interesting things to see around the hotel?”
José glanced in the mirror, checking to ensure he had my attention. “In Antigua, the last earthquake further damaged our sites. There’s been sickness, too, although not as bad as Santiago Atitlán.”
I’d heard an epidemic had broken out in the small village on the shores of Lake Atitlán, but I didn’t know the details. I’d gotten all my shots before coming, so hopefully we’d be safe.
“Very bad things have been happening. Some say that demons walk the land once more.”
My scalp crawled. In the dreams, Técun had warned of a great darkness. He was never called without an end-of-the-world sort of fight ahead of him.
“So what’s in Olintepeque?” Natalie asked.
I caught José’s gaze in the rearview mirror and felt a weird vibe from him. Like he knows exactly what I’m looking for. My instincts were rarely wrong when it came to people. I’d taught myself to tell within a few minutes whether a prospective couple would enjoy our timeshare program or hate it, whether they’d buy or go on their merry way.
Screw it. What’s one more person who thinks I’m crazy? I’ll never see him again when I go home.
“I want to see where he died.”
Natalie scrunched her brow and stared longingly down at the picture of the Cathedral of San José. “Who?”
“Técun Úman K’iq’ab.” I hoped I pronounced his true name correctly. “He died near Olintepeque.”
“The Quetzaltenango department is very large and there are many things to see,” José said like a brisk tour guide. “Let me take you to the rock where they say Técun died. From there you can see the river they renamed in his honor.”
I sighed. “Quetzals again.”
“It means ‘the place of the quetzal’ or ‘quetzal fortress.’ The river is also called Xequijel, which means…”
“‘Where his blood spread.’” Natalie made a choked sound beside me, drawing my attention. “What?”
“How did you know that?”
I turned back to the window and stared out at the wavering hills of green. “I don’t know. I probably read it in the book.”
Did I, though? I might have fooled her temporarily, but I couldn’t fool myself. The drive passed mostly in silence, my heart weighing heavier and heavier, until it felt like a boulder crushed my chest. The stupid cut on my thigh burned and my eyes felt too hot and dry.
Staring at the statue they’d erected in Técun’s honor, I choked on my disappointment. It looked nothing like the man in my dreams. The proud tilt of his head was right, and the warrior stance. But his face…
I turned away and looked out over the plain where thousands of his people had fought and died with him. Below, there was a large rock jutting up out of the ground, supposedly where Técun had made his final stand. As if she sensed my turmoil, Natalie put her arm around my shoulder as we walked down to read the plaque.
Central American,
Call to the four winds that here I defended your land and your home.
TÉCUN ÚMAN
I reached out to touch the rough stone and my stomach lurched. My heartbeat thudded heavily in my ears. A dull roar rocked me back on my heels.
Death everywhere. I could smell the blood. Screams, people surrounded by exploding gunpowder, weapons of mass destruction for the Maya fighting with spears and arrows.
Forcing my eyes open, I stared down at the man who’d been haunting my dreams. Both of his hands gripped a massive spear protruding from his chest. He tried to pull it out and heave it aside, but the slightest movement sent blood gushing up like a fountain. So much blood. Yet he still tried to stand and fight. This great warrior would never give up, never surrender, until the last breath rushed from his lungs and his heart went cold and dead.
An armored soldier gripped the spear and slammed it deeper. The Spaniard turned his head and looked straight at me, grinning with red eyes and sharp jagged teeth that didn’t belong on a human.
Recoiling, I jerked my hand off the rock and the vision faded. I still threw up. The smell of death and blood suffocated me.
“Cass? What’s wrong?”
Sweat trickled down my back, but my blood iced my veins. What the hell is happening to me?
She stroked my back while I struggled to breathe, hands braced on my knees. My legs shook and my stomach rolled, rebelling not just against the gruesome images but also the fact that any of this was happening at all.
Why me, why now? The man had been dead hundreds of years. Even if I was descended from Luisa Xicoténcatl Tecubalsi, so were many other people. Had generations of my
ancestors come to this rock and puked their guts out?
If so, they’d failed, because he was still dead. Still locked away on the other side of a gate I didn’t really understand.
“He really did die here.” I finally forced my voice to work, but it was still shaky. “I saw it.”
“Oh, honey…”
“I know you don’t believe me, but I’m telling you what I saw. He died, right there.” I pointed to where he’d lain on the grass, trying to pull a five-foot-long spear out of his body.
“Spirit eyes.” Until José spoke, I’d forgotten he was even there. Embarrassed that he’d seen me so sick and weak, I forced myself to meet his gaze. What I saw on his face shocked me.
Tears.
“I suspected when I saw the color of your eyes. You see what is hidden. That’s why the quetzal follows you.”
I’d always thought I must have inherited the bright blue-green color from my father, but I’d never met him. According to Nana, once he found out Mom was pregnant he hightailed it for the city and never came back.
“Jade eyes are given to those who’ve walked with the gods.”
Chills crept down my spine. Some thought us to be gods. “My eyes have always been this color.”
José shrugged. “You see. I believe, lady.”
He’d never called me that before. The look of reverence in his eyes gave me an idea. A crazy idea, sure, but if I was going to get rid of these dreams one way or another, I needed his help, even if it blew my travel-stop itinerary all to hell. “What if…”
I stole a glance at Natalie, gathering my courage. It’d kill me if I lost her friendship. She didn’t believe in any of this shit either, but I didn’t have a choice. She’d follow me one way or the other, and if any of this was true…
“What if I told you I wanted to find a way to bring him back? Where would you recommend I go?”
José bowed his head. He was silent for long moments, while my mind insisted I run. Get out of here before the authorities came and locked me up. Did they have insane asylums in Guatemala? I didn’t want to find out. I didn’t want to lose Natalie. I didn’t want to wake up after another dream and ache for a man who didn’t exist.
But if those dreams stopped, I would lose Técun forever.
How can I go on with my life like nothing happened? If he’s not real…
Finally José spoke in a low, soft whisper I had to strain to hear. “First, I would take a few moments to gather my composure, so I would not fall to my knees before you and embarrass both of us with my ecstatic prayers of joy.” He raised his head and the hope in his eyes made my eyes burn with tears too. “Then I would take you to the ancient site of Q’umarkaj, also known as Utatlán.”
In my mind, I could almost hear Técun whisper the translation. Out loud, I said, “The Place of Old Reeds.”
Nodding, José beamed like a proud teacher. “Once the capital of the K’iche’ empire. Legend says that Técun Úman was buried at Atalaya, the Watchtower, a satellite ruin of the main site.”
Natalie looked from me to him and back again, shaking her head. “I think you’ve both lost it.”
Solemn, I gripped her shoulders and stared into her eyes, letting her see exactly how serious I was. “I lost it in a lake three months ago. You pulled me out of the water. You breathed for me. You wouldn’t let me die. You’re my best friend in the world, and I’m telling you the absolute truth.”
She wrapped her arm around my waist and we headed for the car. “Then let’s do this.”
* * *
The ruins of Utatlán were definitely…ruins. Dismay tightened my grip on Natalie’s hand. For this being the capital of the K’iche, a once great empire, there wasn’t anything left but a few piles of stones, nothing like the great pyramids at Tikal or Chichén Itza.
“Alvarado’s wrath poured out upon the city,” José whispered, his voice broken and harsh. “Stone by stone, they dismantled the monuments to build their cities, leaving nothing but dirt and memories that faded year by year.”
I knew just enough about archeology to suspect that any graves—especially famous ones—would have already been looted. “Are you sure Técun’s grave is here? If so, how was it protected?”
José pointed toward the far edge of the plateau. “Atalaya stands guard over the approach to the city there. Legend says he was buried there, but as you suspect, his body would not have been safe. Alvarado’s wrath was great. I’ve heard tales about his hunt for the great warrior’s body, because he wanted to display Técun’s head like a trophy. Surely he heard the rumors and came looking at Atalaya, but Técun’s body was never recovered.”
“So where is he?”
“Please understand me, lady. I only suspect where he might be. Knowing the purpose of this place and our continued hope that someday he might return in the hour of our greatest need, I believe I know where to find him.” Yet José hesitated, kneading his hands, his brow furrowed. “It will seem very strange to you, I’m afraid.”
Laughing wryly, I shook my head. “Everything about this trip has seemed very strange. Please tell me. If Natalie can keep an open mind about my crazy dreams, then I promise to keep an open mind about wherever you take me.”
Still hesitant, he led us toward a rocky cliff…and a dark hole. I shared an uneasy glance with Natalie. She was nearly as phobic about caves as I was about water. “Why don’t you wait here, hon?”
“Yeah, right, I’ll just stand guard here while you go off half-cocked after a legend that doesn’t exist. I don’t think so.” She jerked free of my wary grip and marched toward the cave, but she definitely let me go first. “Who’s going to pull your ass out of the fire again if I’m not there?”
My eyes burned but I blinked the tears away. “It was water, not fire, silly, and I’m sure José could manage to pull my ass out of either quicker than you.”
I ducked at the entry, even though the roof was nowhere near my head. The walls were rough and jagged, and the downward sloping tunnel was too narrow for us to walk side by side. “Remember that cricket in your bed? That’s nothing compared to what we’ll find down here.”
“Boy oh boy, do you owe me. Big-time.” Natalie grumbled behind me. “If a spider gets on me, you’re paying for my entire trip!”
“Aren’t we already using my employee-discounted points?”
“Oh.” She must have slipped, because she cursed and bumped into my back. “Well, then you’re paying for my therapy!”
“You still owe me for all the therapy I need after you kissed me.”
She spluttered so loudly that José paused and looked back over his shoulder worriedly. The poor guy didn’t know this kind of banter was the only thing that had managed to keep me sane this long. “I didn’t kiss you, you big idiot! I saved your life by giving you CPR!”
“Next time could you at least use a breath mint first?”
“There will never be a next time. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Mom.” I used my whiny voice to try to keep it light, but she knew me too well not to sense the emotion welling up in my eyes. She touched my back, a reminder that she was there with me. “I have the best friend in the world.”
“Yes, you do,” she replied gruffly.
“Oh, do you know her?”
She must have tried to kick me but missed and stubbed her toe. From all the cursing, she might have broken something.
The tunnel broadened and light gleamed ahead, instantly making me feel less trapped. José turned and gestured for us to go ahead. “The Rojases are descended from the original kings of K’iche’. They still own this land and protect what they can. Come, please, see the altars the people still use. Candles are always lit at dawn for anyone who wants to come and make an offering.”
“To Técun?”
“Not exactly. The ancient Maya believed that the opening to Xibalba, the underworld, was a cave, and death began a journey through those dark places to the paradise waiting beyond. Xibalba is a watery place, so pools of wat
er inside a cave were even more revered. Anytime they wished to honor an ancestor, they would offer their gifts beside the water or even throw them into the pool in hope the gift would reach its intended.”
Water. Of course. Hope surged, sending my pulse thumping frantically, but I made myself breathe slowly and deeply. I didn’t want to have another bathtub incident. “They thought these offerings would pass to the underworld?”
Candles cast a warm flickering glow across the jagged walls, reflected off a pool of water. José’s eyes gleamed like that pool, so full of hope and awe. I would feel terrible if I disappointed him. How many Guatemalans still hoped that the great warrior would someday return? “Yes.”
“Through a…” I hesitated to say the word for fear it was some secret I shouldn’t divulge.
His eyes flickered briefly to Natalie but then back to me. “Our word is ol, a portal or gate.”
I let out a slow sigh, unaware that I’d even been holding my breath. “Okay. This is it, then.”
Natalie gripped my hand so tightly I couldn’t feel my fingers. “What are you going to do?”
Edging closer to the water, I tried to estimate the depth of the pool. I so did not want to be in water. Especially water that might be over my head. I don’t think I can do it. Even for Técun.
What if it really was some kind of bottomless gate?
I couldn’t suppress a shudder.
“Cass, answer me. I need to know what you’re going to do. Is it safe? Is there anything I can do to help?”
My knees were shaking. “How deep is the water?”
“I don’t know. I doubt anyone has been brave enough to find out.”
Not if the pool leads to the underworld. I wonder what kinds of demons their hell contains.
I stared down at the water, straining to see the bottom, any rock or glimmer that would give me a clue to its depth. Inky blackness swirled, a vague roll that made me queasy. “I don’t want to get wet unless I have no other choice.”
The Bloodgate Warrior Page 3
