by Jaye Shields
An hour or two later — who was keeping time — Duncan made a second batch of huevos rancheros since the first batch had long gone cold. Pouring Michelle some orange juice, Duncan’s face shifted from pleasure to business.
“Michelle, we haven’t spoken much about what happened at the museum.”
“Psychotic bat boy tried to kill us. Definitely a memory I want to leave behind. Isn’t that why you brought us to the safe house?”
“With a vampire that ancient, I have no way of knowing how long we’ll be safe here. The other night while you slept, I tried to get more information on Tzinacan.”
Michelle stopped her gulp of OJ mid-swallow. “Where did you go? Are you okay?”
“Of course, my love, I’m fine. The night before last, I went back to the museum and read a codex Tzinacan had mentioned to me once before. There on the codex, a stone temple held curious atrocities. I tried to mist there simply by meditating on the image, but instead I went someplace I’ve never been before, to a spot I couldn’t even point to on a map.” I found somebody you need to meet, so I’m taking you there.”
“Hence the early morning pleasure and breakfast of bliss? To prepare me for a bad day?”
Duncan tried to smile. “Glad you think my breakfast is bliss.” But Michelle didn’t appreciate his wry attempt to lighten the situation. “And pleasure is something I want you to have every day. Not just the day you’re going to meet your ancestor.”
“Ancestor?” Michelle dropped her toast.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Once again Michelle found herself in the middle of the jungle somewhere; her hand entwined with Duncan’s. There was no animal or human to be seen, but Duncan’s eyes were fixed on the brush deep into the lush canopy. Michelle, too, felt a presence, one that she did not feel often. Her heart squeezed tight. She recognized the presence of a jaguar.
Duncan’s eyes were dark a mix of hope and aggression as he brought his head down to kiss her briefly. “I’m here.”
She smiled up at him hesitantly, distracted as she caught a jaguar appear out of the flora from the corner of her eye. Somewhat shocked at the scenario unfolding, Michelle straightened and tipped her chin up, trying to mimic Duncan’s warrior-like stance. She noticed Duncan’s mouth curl into a proud smile.
Just ten feet away now, the jaguar stopped its approach, its eyes glowing like an internal fire as it locked in on Michelle. The cat cried out as it shifted its weight to two rear paws, standing gracefully before it slowly began to shift. Large paws shrank down to tanned feet, and silky fur tightened into skin. Finally, the face of an old man came into view, a wise face laden with heavy wrinkle lines. The elderly man not in the least concerned about his nudity. For a brief moment, Michelle wondered if he had always been in jaguar form.
The elderly shifter stepped forward toward them and Michelle noticed a shine in his eyes, and then a tear escaped. “Antz li Loxa e.”
The words were slow, barely more than a delicate rasp, but Michelle had understood the ancient Mayan words as if they were her first language. You are a woman. The words had been soaked in love and disbelief.
“Ixchel.” Again the man spoke, this time he spoke a name. Her name.
Taking a deep breath, she freed her mind and let the ancient language manifest on her lips. “Much’u li` e?” Who are you?
“Meztli Bolom.” Moon Jaguar. The old man seemed pleased that she knew her language, and paused briefly before speaking in English. “I am your family. This is your home.” He reached his hand out to Michelle, but when she hesitated as he took her palm within his own. Duncan released Michelle but put his hand on her shoulder. She realized he knew what awaited her.
Michelle watched Meztli Bolom’s tanned, crinkly hands prepare a mixture. She didn’t question him, but the look in Duncan’s eyes was set on the mixture, as if he assessed every ingredient included.
“Michelle,” he warned. “Psychotropic drugs are often used in rites of passage and vision quests, but you don’t need to feel like you have to do this. You just met him. There’s time.”
“No. I need to do this. I trust him.”
Metzli Bolom finished his mixture and handed it to Michelle. “We’ll go to the cave. Now, take this into your body and follow me.”
• • •
By the time she arrived in the cave, her body felt both like it was filled with stone, and that it could float above the ground. She could feel the round pebbles filling the void beneath her skin just as she could feel the dampness of the air caressing her skin like a tongue. Then a breeze would come and rake its way against her skin like tickling fingernails.
Somewhere in her fishbowl of a stomach, a tiny koi was born. The little fish flapped its way around inside of her, splashing to and fro. It fought its way upstream though her body and she curled over and vomited. The ground shifted under her fingers and she hunched over. Peeling her eyelids open, she tried to see if the fish ever came out of her mouth. Instead, warm liquid gold splattered against the inky, swirling ground.
“It is beginning, Ixchel. Soon you will be ready for the truth.”
But Michelle wasn’t sure if she knew how to speak. Or maybe she had already spoken. Did someone say something?
She thought she felt herself being propped up against a waterfall. A sort of cold surface massaged the skin of her back. Then that damned fish started to splish-splash around her womb once more. Looking forward, she saw through the fog colors and darkness. Part of the floor moved like ripples of soft blackness.
A cenote. Just when Michelle thought she had enough clarity to recognize the sinkhole, she curled over and the fish swam violently up her neck. Burning pain lit fire to her throat and she spit out tiny, bright, wet minnows. She looked up and wiped her mouth with a shaky hand. She felt every thin hair on the palm of her hand against her skin.
The black floor rippled once more. A vibration shook the room and she became aware that something incredible was about to happen. The water parted as a head came from beneath the surface. The face of a woman eeked out from the water, but she was not wet. Curled around her mane of thick, back hair was a live snake. The snake slithered around her head comfortably and looked at Michelle with glowing green eyes. The goddess’s tanned skin goddess glowed golden even in the dark of the cave. Her eyes were the color of fire and amber, and her fierce gaze calmed the fish in Michelle’s stomach.
Suddenly more conscious than ever, she felt the presence of other bodies around her. It was the scene from her dream. Just like that night in Alameda, Michelle saw bodies bowed to the ground all around her. The ethereal woman did not need to speak. Her motive was clear and the air buzzed with anticipation. She was here to create.
From the woman’s naked breasts grew thick follicles of golden fur. Rosettes of black pelt gracefully adorned her body as fur continued to stretch against tanned skin. The snake hissed with anticipation and the goddess’s eyes were calm but ripe with excitement. She pointed a long, clawed finger at one of the worshippers.
From the ground rose a bare-chested warrior. Against his muscular, rippled chest draped the skin of a jaguar. He stood with a proud and fierce face. This was Michelle’s father.
Michelle knew this truth just as she knew the fish in her gut was not. Curiosity mixed with fear, and she wondered how much she wanted to see. How much she needed to see.
The Jaguar Goddess beckoned the warrior closer. Her father was strong and determined to keep the attention on him. His chest puffed up as the goddess ran claws gently up and down his skin. Then he turned and ran his own hands up the voluptuous, fur covered body. In response, the Jaguar Goddess raked a paw violently across her father’s face and let out a hiss. Although it was a violent gesture, Michelle knew that the goddess was pleased.
Fur and claws receded only slightly, and the goddess took the warrior’s hand and led him deep into the darkness of the cave. She watched the cave swallow them, glad she didn’t have to watch her own conceiving. No amount of drugs would ever make me w
ant to see that.
But then she saw something else. Curled against the ground in worship was a familiar face. The soft, olive colored cheeks of her mother were smiling peacefully. Her long, dark hair cascaded around her onto the vibrating cave floor. A white glow emanated from the figure, separating the woman from all else. Happiness and strength shot out of the woman like shooting stars and penetrated Michelle like fire. Warmth sizzled against her skin, and she was no longer afraid of the hallucinations. She let the physical sensation overwhelm her.
Then, the woman moved her forehead from the ground and peeked at Michelle. The eyes were knowing and pleased. The blue was fierce against the darkness; she was beautiful.
Time passed in rushed seconds. Although Michelle had no concept of reality outside the cave, she locked herself into the moment. She didn’t want to leave her mother. But the woman broke the gaze and returned her forehead to the ground, joining the others in worship.
From the darkness came the Jaguar Goddess once more. Swaying fur-covered hips, her torso was still bared with womanly skin. The snake had wound its way down from the crown of her head, and was slithering down her chest like a necklace. A clawed hand clutched her father’s in satisfaction. They stepped before the bowing group. The golden eyes of the goddess scanned the people in worship. Then she pointed an elegant, clawed finger toward one in particular. Her mother.
No words were spoken, but her mother stood at the summons and the mob finally looked up to watch the completion of the ritual. Extending an open palm, the goddess beckoned her mother. Her eyes glowed like sapphires as they met with her father’s, the warrior standing at the goddess’s side. The goddess clasped her mother’s hand and deposited it into the palm of her father. They were joined. With that, the Jaguar Goddess turned fully jaguar, and descended into the water of the cave on all fours until the black water consumed it. Michelle watched her mother and father staring at each other with pride and anticipation.
Then, blackness consumed her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After she came to, her newfound relative insisted she follow him once more. Fortunately, this time she didn’t have to be on psychedelic drugs.
Meztli Bolom led Michelle back into a forest and stopped at the base of a tall, sloping hill. The old man reached into the thick vines covering the hill and pulled them aside revealing the thick stone base of a pyramid. Speaking once again in ancient Mayan, Meztli Bolom motioned to Michelle, who was gaping at the ancient, undiscovered pyramid. “The forest covering makes it dark inside. Let me show you as a jaguar so you can see.” Before Michelle could react, the old man quickly transformed back to jaguar and stood on four strong paws waiting for her to do the same.
Michelle looked at Duncan. “You’ve been here? How did you — ”
“Go inside, my love. I will be here keeping watch.” Duncan leaned down and kissed her cheek while looking darkly into the forest. “The jungle is unsettled. I won’t let Tzinacan catch us unaware again.”
“What?” Michelle was startled by the warning and the dangerous expression on Duncan’s face.
“I’ll explain later, for now, you need to hear what this man has to say. I love you.” Duncan grabbed Michelle by the waist and hauled her against him, kissing her passionately as if he feared it would be the last time.
The were-jaguar growled fiercely in protest.
Duncan finally set Michelle down and she smiled up at him longingly as she began the shift into jaguar. The jaguar Meztli disappeared into an opening in the pyramid, and Michelle leapt inside behind him, her heart pounding with anticipation.
Inside the dark pyramid, Michelle’s night vision a la jaguar helped her take in the incredible sight. The tall, stucco walls of the pyramid were covered with the most elaborate murals she had ever seen. Michelle almost forgot to breathe as she realized she had just discovered the most well-preserved murals in the history of Mayan archaeology. Michelle became giddy. These put the murals of Bonampak to shame!
Michelle approached the nearest wall to study the colorful story before her. The dark skin of proud warriors contrasted against the brilliant blue background of the murals. One individual sported a headdress more elaborate than all others, a jaguar head surrounded by abundant three-foot long plumes of quetzal feathers of the finest shades of turquoise and blue.
On both sides of him, men and women stood in lines, adorned in vivid red clothing with elaborately decorated spears and jewelry, both rich in various kinds of Mayan jade. The leader in the middle stood with his hands held high above his head, a squirming infant in his arms.
Michelle stood on her strong hind legs, but was careful not to touch the ancient mural. The face of the infant was a bit grotesque, and as Michelle focused, she realized that it was a stylized face of a jaguar. Furrowed brows and fangs looked at Michelle from the mural, and she realized all the clues to her existence were here.
The were-jaguar Meztli was gone, but Michelle sensed him near so she loped after him further into the dark pyramid, past murals of coronation and more celebrations of were-jaguar births. Finally she found Meztli standing before a dense mural. In the mural stood a highly decorated individual who looked like a spitting image of Meztli himself. Michelle figured the man was a leader, a shaman, someone well-versed in both the physical and spiritual world. His skin was covered with black patches symbolic of the jaguar. To the right of the shaman on the mural was a gigantic person with a fuzzy headdress shaped like a bat. Michelle shrank back in horror as she took in the face. Staring back at her from the mural was the face of Professor Tecuhlti.
Meztli hissed as if to get Michelle’s attention, but she was motionless, desperately trying to piece everything together. The attack on campus … coincidence? Is Techutli an ancient vampire? Is Techutli actually Tzinacan? Michelle’s frantic thoughts were disrupted by another hiss from the Moon Jaguar.
In another mural scene, the shaman who resembled Meztli stood atop a giant pyramid, raising a bleeding heart within his fist toward the sun. Below him on a monument laid a jaguar, sacrificed on a giant stone. Michelle couldn’t quite understand the mural, but it seemed as if it depicted a were-jaguar sacrificing a jaguar to the sun. But then Meztli elongated his torso and put a giant paw on an illustration nearby. Michelle tried not to cringe as he compromised the ancient mural’s preservation.
But the mural to which Moon Jaguar pointed seemed to explain everything. After the sacrifice of the jaguar to the sun, the rays shot down onto the bat warriors. Elaborately painted soldiers wearing bat pelts ran from the rays and sought darkness from within the jungle. The moon resided like a captor over the jungle, keeping the warriors of the bat within. The warriors’ eyes glowed red against the dark pigment of night.
Michelle hadn’t noticed, but Moon Jaguar had been standing behind her. He pushed his thoughts into her mind and for the first time, Michelle experienced what it was like to communicate with were-jaguar.
“Ixchel is the name your true parents gave to you. But you were in danger — we all were. In the mural you see our ancient ancestors worshipped the half-jaguar. Those of us who were born charmed held a very special place; we were shamans, warriors, leaders. But we weren’t the only ones. Out of Xibalba, the underworld, came two warriors.
“The Zozt, the bat warriors, were made by Zotzilaha Chimalman, the God of Darkness who was rival to the God of the Sun. Over time the Zozt became our enemies, slaughtering whole cities, feeding off so much of our lifeblood they became immortal. Our small village was more gifted by the jaguar than others, and my ancestor cursed the race of the Zozt so they could not see the light of the sun. It took the blood of a Balam Centehua, a chosen jaguar shifter to place the curse, and the Zozt need the blood of another Balam Centehua to undo it. This is why Tzinacan searches for you now.
“I was away on a spiritual journey when Tzinacan attacked our village seventeen years ago. He took the lifeblood of everyone in the village, bled everybody atop the Aztec Sun Stone, seeking to please the Sun God and undo t
he curse. He was looking for the Balam Centehua, he was looking for you. But I had taken you on a journey so you could learn the ways of the Maya shaman. You were young, but it was the ancient way of our people. But I returned to a massacre. I had no choice but to hide you from Tzinacan, so I took you to an orphanage far away from our village. And I have been living as a jaguar in this jungle since.
“Your friend tells me Tzinacan has found you. I would never have imagined that you would return, and with a blood-sucker.”
For the first time in the lengthy dialogue, Michelle broke the silence with a low growl of warning.
Meztil continued.
“But he has kept you protected. He is not cursed like the Zozt, he has the advantage of daylight but Tzinacan will stop at nothing to bleed your heart upon the Sun Stone. Now that I have found you, I will not let this happen. You have returned. Now you must vow to learn about your family and to live life in honor of them. Your parents loved you very much.”
Michelle shifted back into human form and sank to her knees. Tears escaped freely as she finally grieved her true parents. She had thought her parents might have actually loved her. Distraught with loss and sadness, Michelle felt Moon Jaguar palm rest on her shoulder. He said nothing but offered a calming presence that gradually stopped her tears.
“Your father was a warrior. You must also be a warrior now. Tzinacan knows this place. The jungle ceiba trees and vines have grown over our Sun Stone but it is still here. I can feel the ominous whispers of the trees around us. He will come, he does not have to wait for darkness because the jungle has grown thick here and there is much cover.”
Almost as if on cue, a sound reminiscent of thunder sounded near the entrance of the pyramid.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Duncan stood, still as a monument, listening. Michelle had been inside the pyramid for some time, but he knew she had much to hear. The same secrets he’d learned from Moon Jaguar when they’d met: “Tzinacan is so crazy with bloodlust; he does not realize his curse will never be broken. He has murdered too many worshippers of the sun and now he will forever be only in darkness.”
