The Storm Runner

by J. C. Cervantes

  Bird snapped his attention back to me. “You win, you get our secret. We win, we get this. Deal?”

  “I’m in the game, too,” Brooks said, tilting her chin proudly.

  Jordan tried to hide his smile. “You, halcón-mitad?”

  “That’s three against two,” Bird said sarcastically. “Hardly fair.”

  Jordan whispered something to Bird I couldn’t hear. I only caught “gone soon.”

  “That’s the deal,” Brooks ground out angrily.

  “And we get to pick the game,” I said.

  “I could take these guys down in the ring,” Hondo muttered under his breath. “How about that for a game?”

  “No way,” Jordan said. “We pick or no deal.”

  I stuffed the jade back in my pocket, knowing they’d never give in and neither would we, and we didn’t have time for a staring contest. “We’ll flip for it,” I said.

  “Like a coin?” Jordan’s eyebrows shot up.

  Brooks put her hand on my shoulder. Don’t do it. They’ll win. They always win.

  I’d come too far and I needed their secret if I was going to stand a chance against Ah-Puch. Hurakan had said I’d have to be smart and brave, that things were going to be inconceivable. I was desperate for every piece of intel I could get.

  My stomach turned as Bird pulled an obsidian stone from his pocket. He held it up, showing me one side etched with this symbol:

  On the other side was this symbol:

  “Death or jaguar, human?” Bird asked.

  At the same moment, Pacific’s words found me: One choice can lead to victory… the other to defeat.

  Hondo chuckled. “Seems like a no-brainer.”

  He was right. Statistically speaking, most people would’ve called jaguar. And if the twins really were the tricksters history made them out to be, I had only one choice.

  Bird kept his dark gaze on me. “Call it.”

  He flipped the stone into the air and as it tumbled down, I whispered, “Death.”

  26

  The black stone twisted in slow motion, landing with a dry little ker-thud on the rug.

  Bird didn’t even wait for the result. He unbuttoned his coat and peeled it off. “Slam it is.”

  I hurried over, blinked… The face of the jaguar looked up at me, smiling like he knew all along he was going to win. I picked up the obsidian stone, weighing it in my palm to be sure. I knew it!

  “You tricked me!” How could I have been so stupid?

  Bird narrowed his eyes. “Tricked.”

  There wasn’t a question mark after the word.

  “What do you mean?” Hondo asked me.

  “The death side is heavier,” I argued, holding the black shiny stone up to the light.

  Bird held back a smile.

  I took a few steps toward him, but Jordan blocked my path and grabbed me by the jacket collar. He sniffed the air and his eyes narrowed. He reached into my coat pocket.

  I tried to squirm free, but the guy was strong. He pulled out the little bottle of chocolate and smiled. “Holding out on us, human? Check it out, Bird. Liqueur for the gods.” His gaze cut back to me. “What are you doing with something like this?”

  This guy was a bully. A stupid rotten bully. I clenched my jaw and leaned closer. “It’s poison.” I should’ve stopped there. Should’ve kept my mouth shut, but oh no, I had to keep going. “Want some?”

  Brooks said, “Come on, guys. Let’s play some ball.”

  Jordan let me go and laughed as he twisted off the cap and took a whiff. “Smells like a new blend. Hints of cherry?”

  Bird came over and sniffed it, too.

  “You really shouldn’t drink any,” I said as the panic started to settle in. “It really is poison.” These jerks were about to drink my backup plan!

  “I’ve got a nose for poison,” Jordan said. “And this drink is clean. Besides, what part of godborn don’t you get?” Then he tilted his head back and guzzled it down. I held my breath. I think we all did.

  “Didn’t save a drop for me?” Bird smirked.

  With a shrug, Jordan tossed the bottle on the floor, shattering the glass. “Wasn’t that good anyway.”

  I still wasn’t breathing, expecting him to go all mannequin-stiff on me. But nothing happened. How come he wasn’t freezing up? He’d just drunk La Muerte!

  Jordan snatched the obsidian from my hand. “See you on the court, human.” Then he looked at Hondo and said, “You probably won’t make it that far.”

  And they walked out of the tent.

  Hondo lunged, but I held him back. “Hey, save it for the court.”

  A minute later, a voice boomed over a loudspeaker: “Ladies, gentlemen, giants, and monsters. Come watch the twins kill a couple of pathetic humans in a game for the ages—Slam!”

  A huge roar erupted followed by what sounded like an elephant stampede.

  “Kill the humans?” I asked Brooks.

  A weird sound came from Hondo, like a growl.

  “Hey, you okay?” I asked him. “You look…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, because what I wanted to say is he looked like a deranged murderer. His eyes had gone black and his cheeks were super rojas.

  “Oh God!” Brooks said. “Did you… did you eat anything in here?” she asked Hondo, looking around frantically. “I told you not to!”

  “A meatball that tasted like slimy raw fish,” he answered in a slurred voice. “Actually, I think there were some bones in it. Totally wanted to spit it out, but…”

  Brooks hurried over to the tray. “These aren’t meatballs.”

  Her tone told us this wasn’t going to be good.

  “They…um…”

  “Just say it,” Hondo spat.

  “They’re sort of like human steroids. They enhance the twins’ strength, but they’re actually… They’re poisonous to humans.”

  “What do you mean, poisonous?” My voice rose.

  “It’s nothing— I mean it’s…it’s…”

  “Tell us!” I said.

  She took a deep breath. “Hondo will get super mad, like hit rage-level, then, um… he’ll sort of see things that aren’t there. Then…” She twisted her mouth to the side.

  “Then what?” Hondo said.

  “You’ll puff up like a blowfish, then go into a deep sleep.”

  “Sleep’s good,” Hondo muttered.

  Brooks spoke softly, and I could tell she didn’t want to say any of this. “It’s not exactly sleep….You’ll have nightmares, and it might feel like someone’s peeling off your skin. But you’ve got this, Hondo. You’re a tank. And we’ll be with you the whole time.”

  Hondo’s tough-guy veneer was starting to crack. “Yeah. I’ve been through worse.” His mouth twitched… or was that a tremble?

  I didn’t care how many beatings he’d taken. This one would be the worst, and something about that split my heart into a million pieces. This was all my fault. I never should have let him come.

  “How long will he be… asleep?” I hated the panic in my voice.

  “Everyone’s different.”

  “But the enchantment…” I was grasping. “You said…”

  “Which is why he won’t die. But this stuff is powerful, Zane. Even the enchantment can’t stop it.”

  Hondo cursed under his breath. “That lousy little… He did this to me!”

  “Knowing them,” Brooks said, “it’s their way of taking you out of the game. I’m… I’m sorry. I should’ve been paying attention!”

  “Not your fault,” Hondo said through gritted teeth. I could tell he was already fighting whatever was inside of him.

  “Forget it!” I hollered. “We have to get him out of here.”

  “You made the deal,” Brooks said. “You can’t leave until you play.”

  “We didn’t shake on it,” I argued.

  “You didn’t have to. The second you agreed to it, it was binding.”

  Like my deal with Ah-Puch.

  Brooks looked at Hond
o and said, “Try to sweat as much as you can. It’ll help.”

  We made our way to the “court” a couple of levels above the main terrace, weaving among a crowd that was eager to watch us get killed. We decided not to wear the jerseys and shorts the twins had given us. Even though our enchanted clothes wouldn’t be as comfortable, their enhancements more than made up for it.

  On the way up the ramp, Brooks filled us in about the game. It was like basketball, but with trampolines under each fifteen-foot-high net and basically zero rules. Which pretty much meant that fists and teeth were allowed.

  “I… I don’t want you to get hurt,” I said to Hondo. “I mean, more than you already are.”

  He grunted. “Don’t worry about me, guapo. Just take care of yourself.”

  I rolled up my sleeves, trying not to think about what was at stake, but it was impossible. If we lost the jade, my ability to talk to Hurakan would be gone. I was already leaving without my plan B for defeating Puke, and now I might leave without even a plan A. That meant I was headed to hell’s basic-training camp. And worse, the whole world could be destroyed.

  For a half of a second, I actually considered traveling back to the Empty, asking good old Dad what to do. But there wasn’t time, and I for sure wasn’t in a place where I could safely leave my body behind.

  “How much longer until the you-know-what wears off?” I hated even having to ask, because that meant acknowledging the fact that my leg was going to go back to gimp status soon.

  “Thirty minutes,” Brooks said glumly.

  A vicious horn blared, followed by that same booming voice. “Players Zero, Less than Zero, and Double Zero, report to the court for your beheading.” Laughter. “Slam is a blood sport—don’t hide out now.” More laughter.

  “I’m going to feed that dude’s head to the crowd if he doesn’t shut it,” Hondo said.

  “Hold on to that anger,” Brooks said. “Maybe we can use it to our advantage.”

  A hot fury stirred inside of me. And with each step, I felt all the gods’ lies and secrets trailing us like heavy shadows.

  At the top of the ramp, I nearly stumbled as I took in the scene in front of us.

  The court was a ginormous stadium built of massive stones. Its walls sloped inward, and hanging at the top were stone rings like in the illustrations in my Maya book, except these had anaconda-size red snakes dangling from them.

  Hondo groaned. “I hate snakes. Those are snakes, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s try to stay away from the walls.”

  “Good idea,” Brooks added. “’Cause those snakes eat humans.”

  Of course they did.

  Hondo stretched his neck and popped his knuckles. “If I die, make sure you don’t bury my bones in the backyard next to Nana.”

  “No one’s going to die,” I offered, but we all knew those were empty words. Heck, I’d never even played basketball. I’d tried a couple times, but my shorter leg didn’t exactly make me layup material.

  Other than the stone walls and creepy snakes, it looked like a standard basketball court. At each end was a basket with a backboard behind it and a mini trampoline underneath. Okay, how hard could it be? Get past the dirtbags, fly into the net, and slam-dunk the ball. And, according to Brooks, whichever team scored five baskets first won.

  “Where did all these spectators come from?” I asked.

  “Optical illusion,” Brooks said. “Looks like tens of thousands—to intimidate you—but really there’s only a hundred or so.”

  “Who cares about the people?” Hondo said. “Look at the size of those snakes!”

  Bird and Jordan were suited up in black jerseys and shorts, running back and forth, dribbling, slamming the ball like it was nothing. Catching air like they had wings.

  “We have to pass the ball every five steps, so no one can just run it in,” Brooks said. “It’s going to take all of us to win. We have to work together.”

  I wondered how we were going to manage a victory, especially with Hondo out of it. With each second his pallor was getting grayer, and his skin was so translucent I could see the veins underneath.

  A minute later we stood at the center of the court. Jordan spun a black rubber ball on the tip of his finger while wearing his signature stupid smile. Next to him stood the giant guard from the tent.

  “Do you see those dragons flying up there?” Hondo said, looking at the sky.

  I turned and whispered so no one else could hear, “You’re definitely starting to hallucinate.”

  “Ooh,” Jordan said with fake concern. “He’s looking pretty… sick. Don’t you think, Bird?”

  My legs trembled, and heat clawed my throat. It took every ounce of strength I had to build a wall between me and these guys so they wouldn’t know what I was thinking. Deep down, I wanted to feed their heads to the snakes. But that wouldn’t save Hondo, and it wouldn’t get me closer to defeating Ah-Puch. I had to stay focused.

  “We’ll even let you losers go first.” Jordan tossed me the ball.

  I caught it—barely. It was as heavy as a bowling ball. “How’re we supposed to play with this?”

  “We could bring out the ball of daggers if you’d prefer,” Bird said slowly.

  “Uh—no. This one… is fine,” I said.

  Jordan leaned closer, hovered, then whispered slowly, “The snakes haven’t been fed for a few days.”

  I swallowed the swelling lump in my throat.

  “First one’s on us,” Bird said.

  I looked around. The spectators were on their feet. Some were pointing and laughing.

  “First one?” I said.

  Jordan rolled his eyes and said to Bird, “You should explain what head start means to the moron.”

  “You can start dribbling,” Bird said slowly. “Or you can stand there staring at the ball.”

  I didn’t need to be invited twice. I took off running (that’s right—running!). I dribbled like a b-ball king, and to my surprise, the ball bounced lightly.

  The crowd roared.

  Hondo was within range, so I tossed him the ball. He ran like a wild man, one, two, three steps. Just when I thought he was going to pass it back to me, he threw it up into the air like it was on fire.

  The crowd laughed.

  Brooks was there in a flash, and as the ball came down, she knocked it to me. I took control of the ball. My legs pounded the court, closer and closer to that basket. Hondo was screaming, “It’s going to kill you, Zane! Let it go!”

  I blocked out his voice and with each step I thought Storm Runner, Storm Runner, Storm Runner. With a quick pass to Brooks, I positioned myself ahead of her. All the time I was wondering why the twins weren’t coming after us.

  Brooks raced with the ball, dribbling lightly before rocketing it to me. But she put a little too much spin on it and I had to dive onto my belly to catch it. I had so much adrenaline going I didn’t even feel the pain. I rolled to my feet, jumped onto the trampoline, and launched myself into the air. I was flying toward the basket. Up, up, up. Then slam! The ball swished through the net.

  I was king of the court! Maybe Bird and Jordan weren’t so clutchy after all.

  But as I came down, the net erupted in flames. Whoa! There was a burst of heat as the fire reached for me. It was like it grew arms and fingers. But the weirdest part? When I landed (okay, crashed and rolled), I wasn’t singed, even though the flames had licked my face and hands.

  The spectators went crazy. Most were on their feet, screaming or chanting “Zero, Zero, Zero.”

  That was too easy. The twins let me score, I thought. I scanned the audience, masked behind the twins’ magic. Hearing zero chanted over and over by a gazillion people didn’t exactly boost one’s confidence. It was another intimidation tactic.

  A voice behind me said, “That was a gimme.” I spun to find Jordan smirking. “To show you what good hosts we can be. Give the crowd a little hope for the underdog. Everyone loves an underdog.”

  “You poi
soned my uncle,” I said, storming toward him.

  “I only passed him the plate,” Jordan said innocently.

  Brooks stepped between us. “Not now, Zane,” she whispered. “Not here.”

  Bird looked at me, raised a single brow, and said, “Strange.”

  “What… what’s strange?” I asked.

  “You aren’t burned.”

  “It’s ’cause he’s fast,” Hondo said. “Faster than fire.”

  But that wasn’t it. I wasn’t faster than the fire. My mind went to work quickly, remembering what Hurakan had said. He was the god of storms… and something about powerful elements… and fire’s an element. So did that mean…?

  “I see,” Bird said flatly, like he knew my secret.

  Hondo inched back. His face and neck were beginning to swell, stretching his gray skin so tight he looked like a puffer fish.

  Brooks looped her arm in his and mumbled a few words to him. Then she looked back to the twins and said, “I call sudden death.”

  I didn’t know what that was, but it sounded like a terrible idea. I grabbed her arm. “What’re you doing?”

  Hondo stepped between Bird and Brooks. “No way, Capitán!” He wobbled.

  Jordan gave a knowing glance to his twin as Bird said, “You would call sudden death for these… these losers?”

  Brooks tugged the braids out of her hair and clenched her jaw. “Whoever scores next takes it all.” She narrowed her eyes, looking fiercer than when she was a hawk, and I nearly shrank back from her glare.

  Bird and Jordan shuffled their feet, appearing for the first time like they were out of their comfort zone. They went courtside, to come up with their strategy no doubt, and Brooks spun to face me.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked.

  “Old World rules. If you call for sudden death, the opposing team has to grant it to you. I needed to buy us some time.”

  “For what?”

  “Thirty seconds!” Jordan called out.

  “Never mind.” Brooks’s shoulders slumped as her eyes searched the sky. “It’s too late.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I may not be able to shift, but I’m still part hawk and…”