Weariness weights my limbs and head so I can barely write, but I must get my thoughts down now while they’re fresh. This is one of those events that will begin to fade immediately because my human mind won’t want to remember.
It’s easier to pretend I dreamed it all.
Pedro de Alvarado’s corpse was delivered in state to the cathedral yesterday. Flowers and sweet-smelling candles decorated the entire church. His banners and armor were on full display, and I’d opened the wooden box they’d brought him in so everyone could see his twisted hate-filled face crumbling away.
The spear he treasured was in his crossed hands. The once gleaming armor that had made him look like a god was dusty with his own decayed flesh and dented from where the horse fell on him during battle, causing his death. I recognized him despite the decay, so I’m sure the people could too. They witnessed his corpse, crossing themselves and looking to me standing in my black dress and veil to the side, desperate fear and hope shining in their tears.
We took him below, not to the stately tomb beside his Spanish wife or even to where dear Mamá lay, but deep beneath the church.
To my people’s temple.
The Spanish took great glee in destroying our cities and forcing us to give up our beliefs. They thought by building a Catholic church on top of our old pyramids that they could wipe the old ways from our memory. They might have burned our histories, but the daykeepers remember the history as well as they see the future. They remembered the altar beneath the church.
Even more, they remembered the hole that had once been the place that we used to communicate with the dead.
The ritual was very nearly beyond me. A priest of old could have buried Alvarado in the deepest pit of hell, where all I managed to do was crack open Xibalba’s gate and throw him beyond. Likely the blood of a few innocents would have accomplished my deed, for what I did was dark and evil. Our hell is not meant for whites with no knowledge of our ways, yet there I sent Alvarado’s wicked soul to travail on the White Road, even knowing that there was no way he could ever find his way through to the promised rest beneath the Great World Tree.
The demon lords of Xibalba will have my father.
That is what I wanted, isn’t it? I’m weeping now but I don’t know if it’s relief or regret or simply weakness. Surely not remorse.
Surely not.
Mamá always said that the greatest power came from a personal sacrifice. She claimed that one drop of her blood given willingly had more power than an innocent’s life, and if blood was spilled for love, then the power she raised was greater than all the blood darkening Alvarado’s sword.
I gave my blood in hate tonight, offering so much that they had to carry me outside to my waiting carriage. Will it be enough to keep Alvarado locked forever in Xibalba? When I meet Mamá on the other side, will she say well done, my child, and pull me into her welcoming arms? Or will she bow her head and weep at what I’ve done?
I cursed a man with everlasting torment. Me, not the gods, not the powers of his Church.
Me.
I hope I have not merely given Xibalba a new demon lord to wreak punishment and destruction on us all.
* * *
Even walking down the street was complicated now that Técun had come to me. Every time I turned around, a new man—or three or four—had joined us. I couldn’t tell what drew the people toward him, other than his large physique. He looked like a warrior. People saw that and came to him, but why they kept following us, I wasn’t sure.
“They’re my army,” he replied, drawing me slightly closer to his side. “They come to aid us in our battle.”
“What battle?” Natalie and I both retorted at the same time. She walked on my other side, too busy flirting with one of the Rojases to be jealous of me.
“While it was only a minor minion, the creature last night will not be alone.”
I wasn’t a clingy, wringing-my-hands sort of woman, but the memory of that zombie made me crowd against Técun so closely I tripped over his feet. “Where did it come from?”
“We shall find out.”
We paused outside the broken remains of the Cathedral of San José. Once it’d been the most recognizable site in Antigua, but now it was mostly a jumble of white stone.
“An earthquake destroyed the façade about a week ago.” José’s face was lined with sorrow. “Even then, it wasn’t the original building, which was destroyed long ago. Some say this site is cursed.”
Warning tape had been set up outside the perimeter to keep tourists out, but I didn’t see any guards other than ours.
“Why here?” Natalie couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. She’d been dying to see this site in all its glory, but there was hardly anything left. “I’d heard the news, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“As he says, this place is cursed.” Face grim and hard, Técun gave orders to his men in their language. Presumably telling them to stand guard, but I couldn’t figure out why they faced the building, instead of trying to keep people out…
Oh. They were here to keep things in.
“The creature that attacked last night was a conquistador. Many of them were buried here, especially the more famous and powerful. It wouldn’t surprise me if Alvarado himself is here.” Técun looked down at me, his eyes narrowing with concern. “Perhaps you should stay out here with your friend until I know what we must face. I don’t know what we’ll find inside.”
“No way,” Natalie retorted while my mouth was still hanging open to say, sure, absolutely, look at the nice sunlight and the streets of people. Much better than an earthquake-damaged ruin where demons could possibly be climbing out of hell. “I’ve been dying to see this place, even if it’s destroyed. And if Alvarado is really buried here, then I want to see it. I bet his tomb is magnificent. I love old graveyards.”
My knees were clacking together. “No, you don’t, Nat. He’s buried deep beneath the church.”
Nat paled but lifted her chin. “How do you know where he’s buried when we’ve never been here before? Did you dream that too?”
“Leonor wrote about it in the journal, and everything else she’s written has been true.” I forced what I hoped to be a confident smile, even if I clutched his arm. “Besides, with Técun here, maybe I am Lara Croft.”
The Rojases passed out flashlights and the seven of us ducked beneath the warning tape. My shoulders hunched. I expected police or soldiers to come racing after us any moment, but the square remained silent.
“It’s quiet,” Natalie whispered loudly. “Too quiet.”
I groaned. “That’s so bad.”
Laughing, she locked arms with me. “But you love me anyway.”
I heaved out a dramatic sigh. “You know I do.”
“And me?” Técun whispered in my head. I wanted to ignore it and pretend like I was imagining things, but the tattoo he’d buried in my skin fluttered its wings. Not on my shoulder…but my chest. The damned thing had moved as he’d warned, directly over my heart. “Do you love me, Cassie?”
My big, bad legendary warrior actually sounded…tentative. My stupid heart melted. “Didn’t I show you well enough last night how much I care for you? I’ve got the bruises to prove it.”
A sudden wave of guilt from him flooded me, so I squeezed his arm, digging my fingernails into his skin. “And you have the scratches. Maybe a bruise or two, as well. You know it was good.”
“Damned good.” He agreed, repeating my words from last night. As though we weren’t having a private mental conversation, he led the way through the rubble, testing the rocks and debris with his own weight first. “But that is not love, Cassie.”
He paused, scanning the floor with the flashlight. Parts of the façade still stood, casting shadows across his face. Staring at him in his very normal-looking jeans and T-shirt, I could almost pretend that he was just a gorgeous man I’d met on vacation. I’d have a really good time, and then I’d go home. I’d go back to my job, my
life, and none of it involved him.
My chest tightened, crushed as though he held me pinned beneath him again. I didn’t want this. Not to fall hopelessly in love with a supernatural being-slash-alien creature from some gate I didn’t understand—a man who was doomed to die in another horrific battle.
Without turning to face me, he whispered in my head again. “I would die for you, Cassie.”
I wanted to say that I didn’t care. That I wouldn’t miss him, wouldn’t ache for his arms or strain to hear his voice. I’d already lived like that for months while he tormented me in dreams. We’d talked for hours—all in my sleep—until I felt like I’d known him all my life. How much worse would it be now that I’d held him in the flesh? If I knew he was alive and breathing, walking on this earth, and I couldn’t have him?
Or worse, what if he died in this battle?
Would he go back to his world for another thousand years?
Crippled at the thought, I leaned against a tumbled chunk of stone and tried to breathe through the pain crushing my chest. Wordlessly, I watched him sift through the rubble, heaving huge stones and crumbled pillars out of his way.
The other men watched as unabashedly as I did because a legend walked among them again. From the look in the Rojases’ eyes, they’d follow him anywhere, even to the darkest pit of hell. José gave me a worshipful look that made my stomach quiver.
I didn’t belong in a legend. I was just an American woman tracing my family roots. I was on vacation. I certainly wasn’t trying to save the world from God only knew what. I just wanted to go home. To my empty apartment, my long work-filled days…
Lies. I’d been lying to myself for years, telling myself I had it all, when I was empty inside.
Empty until him.
Técun heaved a massive chunk of building out of the way, revealing steps that led down into a black hole. My heart sank and my stomach churned uneasily, so I could only imagine what Natalie was feeling at the prospect of another spelunking adventure.
“You really were serious.” Natalie glared at me like I’d personally hidden Alvarado’s presumably stately tomb in a dungeon. “I was expecting a graveyard with gorgeous old stones. Not a hole. In the ground. Don’t you remember what happened at the last cave you dragged me to? You can’t do this again!”
I didn’t want to go down into another hole either, but I didn’t want to let Técun down. Or José, gazing at me like I was some kind of goddess.
“What else is down there?” In my attempt to sound brave, I spoke louder than I’d intended and my words echoed in the ruins.
“Something with enough power to raise a corpse from its grave,” Técun replied. “How many more we may find or how they’ve risen, I have no idea. Yet.”
“Could it be Alvarado?”
“I am called back through the gate by a distant descendant of the very man who killed me. I have his spear with my blood on it and Tecubalsi magic pulses in your blood, the same that bound me to fulfill Xicoténcatl’s revenge against him. I think it likely he’s at the center of this, don’t you?”
My heart pounded violently, like he’d cracked open my rib cage so he could yank it out. “You’re going to fight him again, even if he’s some kind of zombie?” When he killed you last time?
“You confirmed he’s buried here. I must ensure that his resting place is undisturbed. The creature that attacked last night could be one of his minions.”
“You’re saying that Alvarado is going to be a fucking zombie just like that thing last night?” Natalie retorted. “You’re insane. Cass, don’t go down there. Once was bad enough, but this time there might be zombies! It’s like a bad B-movie and you’re the heroine venturing into the basement armed only with a flashlight because you thought you heard a noise. You know how that cheesy movie’s going to end!”
I tried to delay making a decision by asking questions. “How could Alvarado have that kind of power? He’s dead! It doesn’t make any sense.” Unfortunately, that line of reasoning could be answered only by me. “Wait, the journal. When Leonor had him moved here forty years after his death in Mexico, she did something to lock him in…in…” I had no idea how to pronounce the strange word. “What’s the name of your underworld again?”
Although José’s hand trembled as he crossed himself, he moved closer to the hole. “Xibalba.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Natalie said. “Why would a Spanish conquistador be in the Mayan hell?”
“Don’t you think he deserved eternity in hell for the suffering he brought upon our people?” One of the Rojases butted in, civil but determined to make us understand. “He didn’t just conquer. He took great delight in torturing and slaughtering as many as possible. Even if his Christian god didn’t see fit to torment him for all eternity, ours certainly did.”
Técun shined a light down into the hole. “If Leonor used her mother’s magic to bind him to his grave, the same way Xicoténcatl bound me to her bloodline as I lay dying…” He turned his head, pinning me with the intensity of his gleaming eyes. “Then you’re the key to all of this, Cassie. You’re the only one who will be able to see what she did to bind him, and how he escaped that trap.”
“So there’s a gaping pit of hell down there?” My voice was more squeak than anything else. “And you want me to go with you?”
He did, I realized incredulously. If Luisa’s magic was involved in some way, he’d need me down there to feel it.
“Remember how you retrieved the spear when I could not.”
“Look, if you want to risk your life like a complete fucking moron, then you go right ahead.” Natalie whirled around and headed for the edge of the ruins. “I’m out of here.”
Panic tightened my throat. I didn’t want to go down there at all, especially without my best friend. “But you wanted to see the cathedral!”
“I’ve seen it. It wasn’t so great thanks to that earthquake. Now I’d really like to see the Arco de Santa Catalina. I’ll meet you back at the hotel for dinner. If you survive.”
“Wait! You can’t go alone, Nat. What if more of those zombie things are around?”
“It’ll be safer than going down into that hole with you!”
Técun gave a jerk of his head in her direction and one of the Rojases followed her. “Better?”
I nodded miserably. Better for her, but not for me.
Natalie hesitated a moment, as if she’d never expected me to call her bluff. If she left, she’d thought I’d go with her too. But how could I leave Técun if my ancestor’s magic really was the only key to defeating his enemy? If it were Alvarado waiting for him down there again… I couldn’t bear it if he died and I could have helped him. With a weary look on her face uncomfortably like betrayal, she turned her back and headed across the street with her Rojas guard in tow.
“Why don’t you wait here until I assess the situation?” Técun drew my attention back to him. “If the need for your magic arises, I’ll call you.”
Oh, sure, I’d just wait here in the dangerously crumbled ruins while he went down there and maybe died. He’d leave a man or two with me, and then he’d be even more at risk. Or maybe he’d get caught in some magical snare set by Leonor and then what would I do? Go down there alone and try to get him out, when I could have just gone along with him in the first place?
With all the bravado I could muster, I walked over to his side and stared down into the darkness. Hand-hewn steps disappeared into the ground. “Let’s do this.”
He took my hand in his and kissed the back of my knuckles. “With you at my side, not even Alvarado will dare lift his head from his unnatural slumber.”
I wasn’t so sure of that. Even if I had magic like Técun claimed, I sure didn’t know how to use it. In the midst of battle, I wouldn’t have time to whip out a Magic for Dummies book. Maybe Natalie was right and I was a moron. A fucking moron. Because—
He cupped my cheek in his free hand a moment, stilling my frantic mind. “Relax, noyollotl. All will be wel
l. I’ll die to keep you safe from all harm.”
Somehow that didn’t make me feel any better at all.
Chapter Nine
I gripped Técun’s arm so tightly I probably left claw marks in his skin. Again. He certainly had plenty of scratches from last night, and I guaranteed we weren’t enjoying this as much. The tunnel was wide enough for me to walk beside him if I scrunched against his side. I could only hope he didn’t need room to fight.
Damp rot filled my nose—the stench of crumbling coffins, rotting cloth and flesh and moldered rats’ nests. As we entered the main chamber, I saw all that and more. Skeletons tumbled out, broken and mixed beyond recognition. It looked like the coffins had just exploded. Or perhaps something had torn them apart. Dark earth was scattered about, mixed in with the bodies.
Fresh dark earth.
I clamped my jaws together to keep my chattering teeth from clanking together.
“Something tore this place apart,” José said. His hands shook as badly as mine.
“The creature from last night must have passed through here.” Técun scanned the flashlight about the cavern, noting the different patches of fresh earth. Holes of light gleamed down from above. “Several others, I’m afraid. Although where they’ve gone we can only guess.”
“But you can kill them easily, right?” I sounded like a squeaky toy again. “You just ripped the thing’s head off last night. No big deal.”
“Because it was fresh from the grave. It hadn’t yet gained enough strength to truly cause harm.”
I probably didn’t want to know, but I had to ask. “So how does a fresh zombie gain strength? Braaaiiiins?”
He must not have gotten my joke, because he answered very seriously. “Preferably more blood than brains, although it’ll feast on any tissue—human or not, although it definitely prefers human—it can get its claws on. As soon as we return to the surface, we must inquire about any murders or disappearances last night. In this journal, did Leonor say where she’d buried Alvarado?”
“She said there was a Mayan temple beneath the cathedral. She said something about an altar and a hole or cave that they used to communicate with their ancestors.”
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