by J
Hermanjilio stuck out his elbows and bent his knees to do a chicken dance.
He kicked his legs like a solo Rockette.
Then he gripped the branch between his teeth and tangoed with himself.
A rumble like thunder emerged from the giant’s throat. Terrified, Max braced to be crushed in the massive fist. But, if anything, the giant’s grip loosened.
A tear as big as a birdbath ran down the giant’s face.
He was laughing.
He was laughing so much that his monstrous tree-trunk legs were shaking, making the surrounding forest shake with them. Birds screeched, howler monkeys roared, and little kinkajous screamed in protest as they crashed out of the branches to find safer perches.
Down below, Hermanjilio kept dancing: a body wave, a robot, a one-man conga line.
With a snort that bordered on pain, the giant keeled over and Max plummeted to the ground in his hand, the giant’s chubby fingers cushioning him like air pillows.
Hermanjilio ran to help Max out of his fleshy cage.
“Quick!” cried Max. “Before he gets up again.”
“He can’t get up,” said Hermanjilio. “He has no bones in his legs. Plus, did you notice that his feet are on back to front?”
“No,” said Max, “I didn’t.”
“But you saw my dance moves?”
“About that … what just happened?”
“That was Che’ Winik.”
“I got that.”
“He attacks travelers. The legend says that the only way to defeat him is to do a dance with a branch and make him fall over laughing. Then he can’t stand up again.”
The fallen giant’s tears of laughter were forming a pool on the jungle floor. Bullfrogs and small lizards came out to drink from it.
“Seriously?” Max watched with contempt. “As monsters go, he’s not very effective.”
“Not if you know his secret. But if you’d been on your own, he’d have had you for dinner.”
“I thought you’d lost your mind,” Max admitted.
“Was my dancing that bad?”
“Yes,” said Max. “It was terrible.” He took several deep breaths and tried to slow down his racing heart.
“Well, it did the job.” Hermanjilio scratched his head. “But I have to tell you, until this moment, I had no idea that Che’ Winik was real. I thought he was just another one of my grandfather’s stories.”
“Like Mesa-hol and Ixt’abay?” asked Max.
Hermanjilio nodded. “Exactly. It’s like there’s something in the air tonight. Let’s get home before we meet anyone else.”
“Who else is there?” asked Max as they walked around Che’ Winik and retraced their steps to the trail.
“If you’re asking about all the creatures in Maya mythology, the answer is too many to count,” said Hermanjilio. “But if I were you, I’d be more concerned about all the vampire bats that were hovering above my head.”
Max looked up. “There are millions of them!”
“I believe the collective noun for bats is a colony,” added Hermanjilio helpfully.
“What do they want?”
“What do vampire bats always want?”
“I’m guessing blood.” Max took a few paces forward and the bats followed him. “But why my blood?”
“That’s a good question. This behavior is quite out of character. Vampires usually wait until their prey is asleep, and they rarely bite humans. All those Dracula stories have given them a bad name.”
“They deserve a bad name,” said Max, stepping up his pace. “I hate them.”
Wherever he looked he saw little mouse faces, greasy brown fur, leathery wings, and yellow blood-hungry fangs. The sulfurous-smelling air was thick with bats, and they perched on the trees at the edge of the trail like an honor guard.
Max felt like a sheep being herded to market.
“One touched me!” he yelped. “It’s in my hair! It’s going to bite me!”
“It’s a leaf,” said Hermanjilio, picking off the offending greenery. “Just stay calm, okay? We’re nearly home. And remember, when we get to the villa, the most important thing is to keep the bats out of the house. Don’t let them follow you inside.”
Max was horrified. “You think they’d try it?”
“Who knows? Just keep your wits about you.”
The Villa Isabella was close now. They could see Raul standing at the window.
“He’s waiting for us,” said Hermanjilio. “He must see the bats.”
“He’s pointing at the front door,” said Max.
The bats chirruped excitedly.
“Ready to run for it?” asked Hermanjilio. “Go! Go! Go!”
As soon as Max approached the heavy oak front door, it swung open and sent out a blindingly bright beam of light. A hand grabbed him, and Hermanjilio pushed in behind him.
“Did we do it?” asked Max, leaning against the door to make sure it was shut. “Did we keep the bats out?”
Raul nodded. He was holding a dive light like a ray gun.
“Thanks to Raul’s quick thinking,” said Hermanjilio. “Bats hate bright lights.”
Max and Hermanjilio high-fived.
They’d done it. They’d reached home. They thought they were safe.
But in their rush to enter the house, neither of them had noticed the huge, eyeless black bird crouched on the parapet above the front door.
CHAPTER THREE
THE CREATURES OF THE NIGHT
Raul seemed agitated. “Did you get to the generator?” he asked. Then he took in their scratches and smoke-stained clothes. “What happened to you?”
“Let’s just say,” said Hermanjilio, “it’s a jungle out there tonight.”
Max slid to the floor, relieved to be safe.
“I need to tell you—” began Raul.
THUD! THUD! THUD! The bats were throwing themselves at the doors and window screens.
Max jumped to his feet. “They can’t get in, can they?”
“We must close all the shutters,” said Raul.
“And barricade the doors,” added Hermanjilio.
“Wait!” Lady Coco hobbled painfully toward them. “My 6-Dog is still out there. He went to get firewood.”
Max stared at the little brown howler monkey. “Your leg—it’s all bandaged. What happened?”
“I was about to tell you,” said Raul. “We have a bigger problem than the bats.”
Hermanjilio paused from dragging a heavy wooden trunk across the tiles. “What do you mean?”
“Lady Coco and I. We were set upon by centipedes.”
“Centipedes?”
“In the cellar.”
Hermanjilio relaxed. “Is that all? Damp, dark places often attract centipedes. Just call the exterminators. They’ll soon get rid of them.”
“These were not ordinary centipedes,” Raul insisted. “One of them was six feet tall.”
“And it had two heads,” added Lady Coco. “One at each end.”
“What?”
“It seems we’re under attack from the inside as well,” said Raul grimly.
Hermanjilio sat down on the trunk. “Tell me everything.”
“We were looking for the dive lights and batteries,” began Raul. “You know what it’s like down there, a maze of tunnels and dead ends. And the first thing we saw was that the whole place was squirming with”—he shuddered at the memory—“Scolopendra gigantea.”
“Otherwise known as giant centipedes,” translated Lady Coco. “I’ve seen them in caves before, hanging off the roof to catch bats, but I’ve never seen them as big as this.”
“Luckily, the flashlight kept them at bay,” continued Raul, “so we carried on to the dive room. Then, just as we found the lights, this huge thing appeared out of a side tunnel.…”
“Thing?” Hermanjilio was trying, and not succeeding, to keep his voice calm.
“I told you,” said Lady Coco impatiently. “It was six feet tall with two heads.”
>
“I can only describe it as a monster,” agreed Raul. “When it reared up, it was as tall as the tunnel. It stood there … just … undulating.”
“Undulating?” repeated Hermanjilio.
Raul nodded. “It was waving its legs at us. It had legs everywhere. And big pincers like a lobster.”
“It was Eek’ Chapaat,” said Lady Coco flatly. “I’m sure of it. I’ve seen it many times in paintings.”
“Eek’ Chapaat?” Hermanjilio stopped trying to sound calm. “The mythical, man-eating centipede? Did it attack you?”
“We didn’t give it a chance,” said Lady Coco. “It has weak eyesight from living in caves, so we shone our flashlights into its eyes—”
“All four of them,” added Raul.
“—and backed away as quickly as we could.”
“But in my haste to get away, I dropped one of the dive lights and it smashed and Lady Coco gashed her leg on some glass,” explained Raul. He turned to Lady Coco. “I am so sorry.”
“Not at all,” said Lady Coco. “You rescued me. You’re a hero.”
Raul shook his head. “I am no hero. For one thing, I only managed to salvage one light and one battery. For another, I am no match for Eek’ Chapaat. If that creature had wanted to kill us, it could easily have done so. I had the distinct feeling that it was looking for someone else.”
“It’s like we’re trapped in a Maya horror story,” said Max, bug-eyed with terror. “Whatever we do, we have to stay together. I’ve seen the movies. They pick you off, one by one.”
Lady Coco bit her lip. “I wish my 6-Dog would come home.”
“Is Eek’ Chapaat still down there?” asked Hermanjilio.
“As far as I know,” replied Raul. “I used the flood defense system to seal off the main tunnel. If it got through that, it would have to climb the spiral staircase up to Mr. Murphy’s office, break through the trapdoor, smash through the secret bookcase, and knock down the office door.”
They all stared anxiously at the door.
“Even if it could do all that,” reasoned Raul, “it’s a centipede. It likes the dark. Why would it come up here?”
“Still,” said Max, “let’s not take any chances.”
They heaved a chest of drawers in front of the office door, then upturned an antique desk and piled that on top for good measure.
“Round up every candle you can find,” Hermanjilio ordered. “It’s getting dark early tonight.”
“It’s the bats,” said Raul, looking through a shutter slat. “They’re all over the windows. They’re coating the house like shingles.”
Max took a peek. Layer after layer of bats clung to the window screens, crawling over one another and trying to chew through the wire. The bats squeaked in protest as the house was shaken by a loud banging on the front door.
“Open up!” came Lord 6-Dog’s voice.
Hermanjilio ran to unbolt the door. “Enter quickly, your majesty,” he called through the oak. “We are besieged.”
“Wait—” called Lady Coco.
But she was too late. As Raul switched on the dive light and Hermanjilio inched open the door, a black monkey arm shot through the gap.
Quick as a flash, Lady Coco sank her teeth into it.
There was a cry of pain and the arm withdrew.
“Shut the door!” shouted Lady Coco. “I command you!”
Shocked by her newfound assertiveness, Hermanjilio obeyed but cast a worried glance at Max and Raul.
“Lady Coco,” said Raul gently, “I think you may have a concussion. Do you remember that your son is a howler monkey?”
Lady Coco rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. Bring me the pineapple cake.”
“But—”
“Bring it! Now!”
Shocked into action by her bossy tone, Raul did as she asked.
Outside, Lord 6-Dog banged again.
“Lady Coco, this is madness,” Hermanjilio argued. “I have to let him in. I can’t leave him out there with all the bats.”
“Just a moment.” Lady Coco took the cake from Raul. “Now you can open the door.”
“Hey, that’s my cake,” joked Max. “Don’t give it to him.” His expression of welcome turned to horror as he realized that the black howler monkey on the doorstep had flaming red eyes. “That’s not Lord 6-Dog,” he cried.
“Take that, alux!” shouted Lady Coco, hurling the pineapple cake at the visitor.
Instantly distracted, the howler uttered a cry of delight. As soon as his hairy hands caught the cake, he transformed into an ugly little gnome, spattered with mango frosting. So engrossed was he in eating the cake and licking off the frosting that they easily pushed him away and closed the door.
“Sorry, Lady Coco,” said Hermanjilio. “We should have listened to you.”
“I knew he’d reveal his true self in the face of a cake,” said Lady Coco. “The alux has a very sweet tooth.”
“Can someone tell me what just happened?” asked Max.
“We had a visit from an alux,” Lady Coco told him.
“What’s an aloosh?”
“It’s a shape-shifter, a mischievous sprite,” explained Hermanjilio. “You’re half Irish, aren’t you, Max? Think of it as a Maya leprechaun.”
“But why did it come here? What did it want?”
“I wish I knew,” said Hermanjilio. “Why did Mesa-hol appear? Why did Ixt’abay pretend to be Lola? Why did Che’ Winik block our way? Why did the bats follow us home?”
“And what’s with the giant centipedes?” added Lady Coco.
“Indeed,” mused Hermanjilio. “It’s as if someone is playing a very elaborate and unfunny joke on us.”
“The Death Lords like playing jokes,” said Max in a small voice.
Lady Coco shook her head. “What happened in the cellar was not a joke. Eek’ Chapaat was deadly serious. He was out for blood. I could sense it.”
Raul shuddered. “Let us hope we will have no more uninvited guests.”
WHOOSH!
In a cloud of soot and ash, a black howler monkey shot out of the chimney into the hearth.
They all froze, waiting to see Lady Coco’s reaction.
“It’s him!” she cried. “This time it’s really him!” She brushed flakes of ash off her son’s fur. “I’m so glad you’re safe, 6-Dog. Did you see the alux out there?”
“Aye, Mother. The waayoob are massing around this house.”
“What are waayoob?” asked Max, his voice wavering.
“Spooks and demons, the creatures of the night,” explained Lady Coco. “But why have they come? Why here? Why tonight?”
“Thy guess is as good as mine, Mother. But let us not waste time talking. We must build a fire to keep the bats from following me down the chimney.” Lord 6-Dog looked disparagingly at the decorative pyramid of logs arranged in the grate of Uncle Ted’s massive fireplace. “We will need more wood. Much more wood.”
Hermanjilio brought the machetes.
Uncle Ted’s chairs were first to be chopped up, then his tables, his cabinets, his couches, his bookcases, and every piece of furniture that wasn’t being used as a barricade.
Only when a bonfire was blazing in the hearth and every flammable antique had been reduced to kindling did they sit down on the floor to discuss their situation. On the other side of the window shutters, the bats still dive-bombed the house.
“Whomever they seek is inside this house,” said Lord 6-Dog.
Without a moment’s hesitation they all looked at Max.
“Hey! It could be one of you,” he protested.
“Ixt’abay called to you,” Hermanjilio pointed out. “Che’ Winik captured you. The vampire bats followed you—”
“Stop! I get it!” Max swallowed nervously.
“We’ll protect you,” Lady Coco assured him.
“Protect me from what?” asked Max miserably. “What’s happening?” He followed Hermanjilio’s eyes to a crumpled piece of card that lay on the floor where the coffee
table had been. “Is this about my funeral? Is this how it starts?”
“Calm down, Max.” Hermanjilio picked up the invitation and threw it into the fireplace. “The creatures of the underworld are scary, but they’re stupid.”
“I concur,” said Lord 6-Dog. “Whatever is happening out there, we are more than a match for it.”
Lady Coco stuck out her chin. “Bring it on,” she said, trying to sound tough.
There was a distant booming like giant footsteps.
Max jumped. “What is that?”
“My guess is Che’ Winik,” said Hermanjilio. “And he’s heading this way.”
Lord 6-Dog listened carefully. “Thou art mistaken.”
Max looked at him hopefully.
“Those are the steps of at least two ogres,” concluded Lord 6-Dog.
“Please don’t let them take me,” whimpered Max.
“Fear not, young lord. We shall easily defeat them. For we know their weak spot.”
“We do?” Max was shaking.
Lord 6-Dog nodded confidently. “Do you remember the old saying, Mother?’
Lady Coco thought for a moment, then she burst out: “The creatures of the night fear courage and light!” She clapped her hairy hands. “You are a genius, 6-Dog. Courage we have in abundance. Light we can make.”
“No we can’t,” said Max. “The generator exploded.”
“And the dive light won’t last much longer,” added Raul.
“Then we will fight by firelight,” announced Hermanjilio. He sounded defeated already.
“What is the matter with you three?” Lady Coco demanded. “Pull yourselves together! I am injured and you don’t hear me whining. Where is your fighting spirit?”
“It would be a tight fit, but we could hide under the stairs till they’ve gone,” suggested Raul.
“A king does not hide,” barked Lord 6-Dog.
Lady Coco stood to attention and saluted him. “What are your orders, your majesty?”
“I will take charge of courage, Mother; thou art in charge of light.”
Lady Coco chuckled. “If there’s one thing a Maya queen can do, it’s bring light to the jungle night. Raul, I need your help.”
“More candles?” said Raul, wearily.
“Candles? No! Think bigger! I need woven rags, coconut oil, and some sturdy bamboo canes. As many as you can find.”
