Pretty tragic tale, but if it was true, then Sipacna should have been dead. So how did he get here?
“Did you say evil?” he asked with a growl.
“Yeah,” I insisted. “I’d say a giant who kills a few hundred kids for trying to build a hut is pretty wicked.”
“Guys!” Ren tried to get between us, but I sidestepped her.
“What?! I offered to build the hut for them!” Sipacna argued.
“And made fun of their weakness the whole time,” I said. “Can you say ‘bully’?”
A football whizzed overhead.
“So, it’s okay for them to try to kill me?” His jaw twitched. “They were plotting my death!”
“They were?” I asked. “Well, that’s definitely not cool…but neither is you crushing them under the hut.”
Sipacna seemed to chew on this morsel. Then he put his gargantuan fists on his hips and asked, “And you believe everything history tells you?”
Ren chuckled nervously. “Zip, it’s just hard to know what’s a lie and what’s the truth sometimes.”
“You’re supposed to be an old alligator with fangs,” I said, remembering the illustration in my book.
Zip grunted. “Whoever told you that is an idiot and doesn’t know fact from fiction. And let me guess…in your version of the story, the twins come out as heroes.”
Yeah, that should have been my first clue that the truth had been shaded. Ren quickly filled me in on the real story, which was that Sipacna’s brother, Kab’raqan (aka Earthquake), flew into a rage one night and split the earth open, and the boys were “accidentally” swallowed.
“Like my brother, I used to have a terrible temper,” Zip admitted. “It’s a giant thing.”
The ghost boys shouted and whooped as they tackled each other on the beach.
“Anyhow,” Ren said, frowning, “Jordan and Bird lied—big sorpresa—and told everyone Zip had killed the boys.”
“The twins also killed my dad, Seven Macaw.” Zip’s face reddened, and I thought the giant might cry. But he held it together.
Fury rose up in me. Was there anything the twins hadn’t lied about? Is history really so messed up that you have to question every word? I recalled the message I’d seen on that wall in Venice Beach: HISTORY IS MYTH. Maybe those were the truest words ever written.
“Everyone hated me after that,” Zip said sadly. “But I couldn’t rat out my own brother. So the gods came after me, wanted to make an example of me. Offered glory to anyone who could take me down.”
“I know the drill,” I said, suddenly feeling like me and this Sipacna dude were compadres.
Ren said, “My mom felt super bad for him, so she faked his death, which the twins totally took credit for. Then she brought him to this in-between place she created to keep him safe.”
“And she asked me to keep watch over K’iin,” the giant added, smirking like someone who had just scored the winning goal.
I glanced over at the ghosts as my brain put the puzzle pieces together. “And these are some of the four hundred boys?”
Zip nodded. “The rest are around the mountain somewhere, but yeah, they sort of busted out of Xib’alb’a. I guess there’s a no-playing-ball rule in the underworld, so they wanted out pretty bad.” He gave a light shrug. “The kids were only trying to kill me because the gods told them to, so they felt used. Anyhow, Pacific and some others helped them escape.”
Others, as in Ixtab?
“The gods would for sure miss four hundred boys…” Ren said.
“Ixtab told the jerks the boys had turned into stars,” Zip added. “The Pleiades constellation. Great hiding place, right? The stars? I wish I could think like that.”
Ren said, “It should totally be named the Four Hundred, but whatever.”
I took a second so I could register everything in my spinning head.
Another hero twins myth that was a lie. Check.
Giant who escaped the gods and now guarded K’iin. Check.
Four hundred ghost boys who were supposed to be stars. Check.
Now that I had all that straight, we needed to get back to the reason we were here. People were counting on us. Itzamna was trying to hold off bloodthirsty demons, and our family and friends were hiding out in Montana. And the time thread? It looked like it was going to jump out of Ren’s grasp again any second.
I clutched Itzamna’s sunglasses, wondering if I should bring the god in on all of this.
Zip shook out his hand and blew on it. That’s when I saw a wicked red slash across his palm.
“Is it getting better?” Ren asked.
Zip winced and said to me, “I made the mistake of touching her time thread. Sent me ten feet into the air, man. That’s some wicked energy right there.”
“It must be some kind of security measure,” I said. “Maybe that’s why no one can take the time rope from Pacific—it’ll deep-fry their brains.”
“Guess so,” Ren said with a hint of pride in her voice.
“So, can you take us to K’iin?” I asked Sipacna, my hope rising.
“Not exactly,” Ren said.
“I’m sorry again for trying to kill you,” Zip said to Ren gently.
“He tried to kill you?!” I almost tried to summon my Fuego spear before Ren said:
“That was before he knew who I was, Zane!”
“Actually,” Zip said, “that was before she saved my life by ripping the thread out of my grasp.”
“He made a promise to guard K’iin,” Ren argued. “He’s just doing his job.”
“But you’re Pacific’s daughter. He and she go way back!” I turned from Ren to glare up at the giant. “And we’re trying to defeat the rotten twins who killed your dad—who ruined your life! Doesn’t that count for something?”
Zip gave me a curious look, then said, “My life is better now than it ever was. I like it here.” He watched the ghost boys fondly as they continued to roughhouse in the sand.
“But if we don’t find K’iin, you’ll lose everything,” I argued. “And so will we.”
His face fell, and I felt sorry for the guy. “I took an oath. That means something to me.”
Ren nodded in understanding, and my hope was extinguished. We’d come here for nothing.
Then the giant took a deep breath and added, “I can’t tell you where K’iin is,” he said, “but if you can find it, I won’t stand in your way.”
“Incoming!” one of the ghosts shouted.
Alana rocketed out of the time tunnel, followed by a screaming Louie.
Ka-splash!
A couple of ghosts jumped into the water to haul them out.
“Get ready to freeze,” I warned, looking up at the sky for the first sign of snow.
Ren shook her head. “None of our godborn powers work here.”
“It’s a precaution,” Zip said, stroking his chin. “Keeps the scales balanced in my favor.”
“Good thing Pacific’s do,” Ren added with a small smile. She tugged on the still-aggressive thread.
Three things happened at that exact moment:
1. Louie and Alana swam frantically to the shore.
2. A ghost yelled, “Touchdown!”
3. And the golden thread jerked Ren off her feet.
That’s when I knew it had found what it was looking for.
The thread dragged Ren across the sand.
Zip groaned. “I got you, time girl.” He scooped her up and lifted her onto his shoulders, taking huge strides to keep up with the flying golden strand.
“Come on!” I shouted to Alana and Louie. “We can’t lose them.” I spun and did my best to lope after the giant without Fuego.
“Zane!” Alana quickly caught up to me. “Where are we?”
“Who are those kids?” Louie cried.
“Just hurry!” I called out. “I’ll explain later.”
We rushed into the trees, climbing over fallen limbs and ducking under bowed branches as we headed into deeper and darker shadows.
The sky had all but disappeared.
A few minutes later, we came to a black rock wall that stretched into the clouds.
Zip and Ren stood there, him panting, her still on his shoulders and clutching one end of the time thread as it rammed its other end against the wall.
“Zane!” Ren cried as we arrived. “It wants to go inside the rock.”
“Or to climb up it, and we can’t follow if it does,” Louie said.
“Give it more slack,” I said. “Let’s see what it does.”
“For the record,” Zip said, “I didn’t bring her here. The rope did. I just kept her head from getting split open.”
Zip lowered Ren as she released more of the strand inch by inch. Once she saw that it was trying to make a shape in the rock, she let go completely. The thread immediately spiraled into a tight coil and pressed itself into the wall, vanishing. With a pale green flash, the wall started rippling like water.
“The gold thread—it’s not coming back, is it?” Ren said.
Zip nodded. “There’s only so much time magic to go around. Guard the strands you have left,” he said, pointing at her watch.
Louie swayed. “I feel dizzy.”
I grabbed hold of him as Zip inched back from a circular shape in the wall, which was swelling and pulsing. “Looks like you need to step into that thing,” he said. “So this is where we say good-bye.”
Ren threw her arms around his knees and said, “Thank you for everything.”
“It’s a doorway,” Alana said. She reached her hand into the wall like it was nothing more than smoke. “We should go now. I don’t think this is going to last.”
She slipped inside, followed by Ren and a disoriented Louie. Just as I was about to step in, I turned to the giant. I had so much I wanted to say to him, but the only words I could come up with were “I’ll make things right.”
He smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
I entered a chamber no wider than the Red Queen’s tomb, but with a high ceiling.
The floor was covered in fine white sand, and the walls looked like the inside of an abalone shell: iridescent swirls of intense pinks, greens, blues, and purples on a silvery backdrop. Each swirl cast enough light to illuminate the room, and my friends turned in circles as they took it all in.
I stuck Itzamna’s shades back on, hoping the god’s magic would work here, like Pacific’s.
His face immediately appeared and he said, “I’m glad to hear Zip is doing well.”
“You knew he was alive?” I asked.
“I will not even dignify that with an answer.” Then: “Of course I knew!”
“Yeah, yeah. You see everything.” Seems to me he could have given us a heads-up….
Ren didn’t leave our friends in the dark. She briefly explained to Alana and Louie what had happened when they were in the time tunnel.
Alana took it like a champ, whispering stuff like “Whoa” and “Bomb dot com” while Louie got even paler.
“You okay?” Ren asked him. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”
His nostrils flared. “I…I rocketed down a time tunnel?”
We all nodded.
“And into a lake with some kids?” he went on.
“Ghost kids,” Ren corrected.
Louie’s eyes grew wider. “And I chased a giant through a creepy forest?” His words hung on an I-can’t-believe-it breath. His mouth fell open, and as he looked up, his face bloomed into this huge goofy smile. “I’m a freaking ninja!”
Alana swept a wet strand of hair off her forehead and chuckled as I clapped the guy on his back.
A distant groan sounded. Everything went creepily silent and still—the kind of silence that cramps your insides and makes you worry about lurking ghosts and hidden snakes.
Then, one by one, the walls’ colors peeled themselves off in glowing pink, green, blue, and purple ribbons. Tiny threads hung from the end of each six-inch-wide strip.
“What are those?” Louie whispered.
The spectral strips swayed left, right, and back again like kite tails blowing in the wind. Then, one by one, they floated above each of our heads. Pink followed Alana. Purple drifted over Ren, green hovered over Louie, and I got a shimmery blue.
“Why are they following us?” Louie said, reaching toward his band.
Itzamna gasped. “No one move!”
My heart leaped into my throat. “Why?!”
“Those ribbons—” he began.
“Are they going to choke us to death?” Louie asked in a trembling voice as he quickly withdrew his hand.
“Those are your destiny strands,” Itzamna said. “One tug of the thread and your future is gone, changed, morphed, ruined.”
I glanced up. Each of our “destiny strands” was frayed at the bottom.
“My destiny is a ribbon?” Alana asked, ducking to avoid hers.
“No,” Itzamna offered. “Your destiny is written on the ribbon.”
“I don’t see any words or symbols,” Ren said.
“Only a god or K’iin can read it,” Itzamna whispered.
“Why are our destinies here?” I asked.
“It’s complicated,” the god said. “But all destinies are connected to time and space, and K’iin is time and space, which tells me the calendar is close. Your essences attracted your destiny strands. Got it? Good. I really hate repeating myself. Just keep your hands to yourselves.”
Everyone stood staring in silence, as if each of us were waiting for the other to ask Itzamna to read what was written on the ribbons. Believe me, I considered it, but I didn’t ask. Not because I didn’t want to know my future—I just didn’t want to know my entire future.
A loud grinding sound drew our attention.
“Uh, guys,” Ren said, pointing to the middle of the floor. “What are those?”
A row of six stone statues rose up from the sand. They were massive, like twenty feet tall, and had their backs to us.
“Are they alive?” Louie wheezed, craning his neck to see. The rest of us hurried over to check out the fronts.
“They look like…some of the gods,” I said. I quickly identified them in order: Nakon, Chaac, Ixkakaw, Kukuulkaan, my dad, and Ixtab.
“Ixkakaw’s nose is much more refined than that,” Itzamna critiqued. “And Chaac has much buggier eyes!”
Seeing my dad’s face, even in stone, made my insides cave. Had he, Ah-Puch, and the other gods already been devoured? No. I couldn’t…wouldn’t think about that now.
“Why would my mom make statues of gods who exiled her?” Ren frowned. She glanced up at me. “Not your dad and Kukuulkaan, of course.”
“Are they holding blue eggs?” Louie stalked closer.
Each statue held a basketball-size blue orb in its cupped palms.
“K’iin must be inside one of those,” Itzamna said.
“The calendar is in an egg?” Louie said.
“They aren’t eggs,” I told him.
“They sure look like it,” he muttered.
“But which one has it?” Alana said.
Shaking her head, Ren said, “It has to be Kukuulkaan or Hurakan, right? My mom wouldn’t trust K’iin to any of the other gods.”
“Unless she’s like my aunt and wanted to be ironic,” Alana said with a huff.
“It’s too obvious, Ren,” I said. I’d learned a long time ago that when it came to Maya gods, expect the unexpected.
“Just try them all,” Louie said, “so we can get out of here. This place is giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Except to get to the orbs we have to climb the gods,” Alana said. “And in case you haven’t noticed, Louie, we don’t have a ladder or wings.”
Brooks would have really come in handy about then. I thought about summoning and throwing Fuego before I remembered I couldn’t use its magic in that place. Besides, with my luck, my spear would shatter the orbs, destroy the calendar, and stop time, which would totally suck.
; “Got any ideas, Itzamna?” Ren said, ducking away from her destiny ribbon.
“How good a climber are you?”
“I thought you were supposed to be helpful,” I growled.
“I am being helpful,” the god argued.
Louie stepped back, looking up as he pointed to the orbs. “Wait! I think the eggs have something written on them. Look.”
The spheres were rotating slowly. I walked down the row of gods, and as the orbs came full circle, I saw that there was a single Mayan word etched into each. Then, like in the SHIHOM library, the words floated up in the air and came back down in English. “‘Choose. The. Right. Fate. Wisely. Trespasser,’” I read aloud.
Alana scooted away, shaking her head. “Something is so wrong.”
“What makes you say that?” Louie said. “Just because we’re inside a creepy chamber with our destinies hanging over our heads and there are statues holding spinning eggs with warning labels?”
I thought about something else he’d failed to mention: people had died seeking K’iin. But I kept that to myself.
“We just have to think smarter,” Ren said. “Hurakan’s word is wisely, and Kukuulkaan’s is fate. Do you think those are clues?”
“I just want to know why I didn’t get a statue,” Itzamna said. “I am the great moon god, after all.”
Louie rubbed his forehead, never taking his eyes off the figures. “What do you think would happen if we picked the wrong egg?”
“Buh-bye, destiny,” Alana muttered.
I stood right under the stone gods with their cold, menacing eyes. A chill ran through me. “Louie’s right,” I said, inching back. “Pacific wouldn’t entrust K’iin to any of the gods,” I added, thinking out loud. Yeah, I know she and Kukuulkaan have a thing going now, but she didn’t seem like the type to trust her boyfriend with her greatest treasure. “I don’t think K’iin is in any of those spheres. I think they’re a decoy.”
“Zane,” Itzamna said, “turn a few degrees to the left.”
“Why?”
“Just do it,” he said.
The instant I did, the moon god gasped. “Oh. My. Stars. I wasn’t expecting that.”
The Shadow Crosser Page 19