by Lani Forbes
The snake lashed out with its whiplike tongue, tasting the air for what it could no longer see. It opened its mouth and exposed its fangs—then lunged again.
Ahkin dodged, knocking the head of the snake to the side with his shield. He whipped his hand around and sliced into the side of its head with the makeshift knife. The ground beneath his feet rumbled. The snake writhed away from him, its hiss loud and agitated.
He looked behind him to make sure Mayana had hidden herself behind the giant dead tree. A flash of black hair disappeared behind the trunk. He breathed a small sigh of relief that she was safe . . . at least for the time being.
“You can’t kill it with such a small weapon, you’ll only make it mad,” she yelled.
“You stay safe,” he yelled back, but at that moment, something thick and heavy slammed into his back, knocking him face-first into the dirt. The taste of blood coated his tongue. He looked up, and the snake’s head was directly above him, its diamondback tail slowly curling around his chest. Ahkin pushed at the powerful, muscled body, trying to keep it from trapping him within its grasp. But its strength was too much. Desperate panic started to creep its way up his chest along with the snake’s smooth scales. He’d seen too many creatures die in this exact same position in the jungles. He couldn’t fail Mayana again . . .
“Ahkin!” Mayana’s voice was far too close.
“Get back, Mayana. I don’t need your help!”
“Yes, you do!”
With enormous effort, he turned his body against the snake’s tightening grip just in time to see the spear hurtling through the air. A single crooked stick from the blackened tree, a shard of obsidian secured to its base with a piece of cloth torn from her ruined skirt.
He didn’t have time to marvel at how she thought to create such a weapon so quickly. Instead, his fist closed around the spear’s shaft as it hurtled past. He cast up a prayer of thanks to the gods for his years of battle training. The snake lunged toward him again. Combining his strength with the snake’s momentum, he drove its tip directly into the bulbous yellow eye of the great snake. A surge of victory flowed through his veins at the sight of its diamond-shaped head arching away.
The grip around him loosened as the snake thrashed. Its defenses were down. He took the opportunity and drove the obsidian shard back into the side of its neck. Hot, sticky blood coated his hands and arms as he ripped the blade downward.
Its head finally thumped against the ground in another cloud of dust, its body twitching and writhing as it fought back against the claws of death. Ahkin darted toward the head and wrenched the makeshift spear out of the ruined eye socket. Time to finish it for good. The massive fanged mouth opened in a last-ditch effort to attack, but Ahkin dove forward and drove the spear through the roof of its mouth. More hot blood flowed over his arms and down over his chest. He couldn’t hear anything above the pounding pulse in his ears. Finally, he yanked the spear back and used his sandaled foot to kick the now lifeless head away from him.
“Ahkin!” Mayana screamed, running forward.
He stumbled away from the snake’s body, an overwhelming dizziness slamming into him harder than the snake tail. He willed the light to stop bending around him so that she could see he was okay.
“I’m f . . . f . . .” he slurred, unable to finish forming the words. He was fine and needed to tell her. He needed to ease the panic painted all over her face. Why couldn’t he speak? His tongue felt swollen and numb.
Her face tilted sideways, and he found himself staring up at her from the ground. A sound like a war drum pounded painfully loud in his ears. He tried to reach for her, but his arms now tingled as though they had fallen asleep.
A sharp pain in the muscle between his shoulder and neck, above his collar bone, registered right as Mayana knelt beside him. She looked at his shoulder and gasped.
The pain intensified to the point that he leaned to the side and vomited. Mayana didn’t even flinch away. When the wave subsided, he focused enough to see a sliver of a curved snake fang grasped in her fingers. Did she pull that out of his shoulder? Had the snake bitten him when he stabbed it?
He tried to apologize, but he couldn’t make his mouth move anymore. The edges of his vision went dark as Mayana whistled a sharp sound that made his head throb . . .
Mist clung to top of the jungle canopy, hovering over the band of warriors like the spirits of those who had perished generations before them. The warm air hung heavy with the scent of the recent rains. The barren field, barely visible through the line of trees, stretched wide, scattered with flat stones rising from the mud like the faces of sacrificial altars. Soon more than rain would coat the stones.
“Don’t be afraid. Focus on your skills and what you know.” The deep voice came from his right.
That was easy for Yaotl to say. He was Ahkin’s mentor and the leader of the Jaguar warriors, the most elite fighting force in the empire. The jaguar pelt he wore supposedly imbued him with the strength of a great jungle cat. There was nothing on this level of creation he feared.
Ahkin shifted his sandaled feet in the dirt, his muscles tensing. Sweat slicked the palm of his hand beneath the grip of his macana sword. The watery sunlight filtering down through the storm clouds reflected off the shards of obsidian lining a wooden club. This would be the first time his newly crafted weapon would taste Miquitz blood.
And the first time Ahkin would enter a real battle.
Yaotl lowered his wooden helmet over his narrowed eyes. “You have an advantage the other initiates do not. Use it to protect them. They are your brothers. This is your divine responsibility.”
Ahkin glanced to his left, where the other young men he had trained with since he was a boy stood ready to enter the field. Though many of them tried to appear brave, their hands trembled as much as his own. Throats bobbed with heavy swallows. The stench of fear hung as heavy as the mist. A fierce wave of protectiveness swept over him. He was to be their leader, their emperor. It would be his responsibility to keep not only them, but the entire empire safe. He would not fail. “Yes, sir.”
Ahkin knew what would happen next. The battle horn would sound, and the newly initiated group of warriors would charge. Many of them would not leave the field. He had not been able to protect his brothers, the young men he’d sparred and laughed and lived with for almost a decade, from the time they were barely old enough to hold a weapon . . .
But instead, everything around him stilled, freezing in place as though suddenly turned to stone. Even a passing butterfly hung unmoving in the air. Ahkin lowered his weapon, inspecting the scene around him with disbelieving eyes. This wasn’t what had happened that day. Was his memory lapsing?
He stepped forward and turned back, only to see his own body frozen in place along with everyone else. It was as if he were a spirit that had just stepped out of himself.
What in the nine hells? Was this some kind of dream?
“I remember that courageous young man,” said a voice suddenly.
Ahkin nearly leapt from his skin, but considering he seemed to already be outside of his skin, he wasn’t sure that would even be possible. But he at least recognized the elderly woman who had come to stand beside him. She was dressed in geometric patterns of white and black, and her equally contrasting light and dark hair was swept up into a knot atop her head. Her lined face crinkled even further as she smiled at him. The motherly form of Ometeotl, the duality, the Mother, creator of everything. Her eyes gazed fondly upon his younger frozen form.
“I—you—I don’t understand. How can I be there and yet”—he looked down at his body, surprised to see it wasn’t as translucent as other spirits he’d seen—“here at the same time?”
“There are many things you do not understand, son of the sun,” she cackled.
Ahkin frowned. Yes. They had already covered that thoroughly on the beach.
“We are inside o
ne of your strongest memories. There is something I want you to see.” She snapped her brittle fingers and the scene around them shifted. Ahkin’s stomach rolled unpleasantly.
Before him, the battlefield raged. Around him, animal costumes whirled and slashed, while the death demons from the Miquitz Empire, dressed in black and bones, dodged between their obsidian blades like shadows. Ahkin watched his younger self flicker in and out of sight, his royal blood bending the light around him and hiding him from sight. He and the other initiates sliced through enemy Miquitz with impressive ferocity. Pride bloomed hot and full inside his chest at the sight. They had thought themselves gods, invincible, untouchable . . . until the first of them fell. The young man’s name still sent a barb through his heart. Pech. They had been fighting side by side until he took an obsidian blade to the stomach that had been meant for Ahkin’s back.
Ahkin remembered it clearly enough without Ometeotl showing him the memory in whatever bizarre dream this was.
Pech fell to his knees, his common blood coating his hands as he grabbed at his abdomen. Ahkin watched his younger self fell the Miquitz soldier with a single strike, his macana sinking into the man who had stabbed his friend. He hadn’t heard the man’s scream above the rushing sound in his ears. Panic had overtaken him as Pech’s lifeblood drained onto the jungle floor. Because he had taken the blade for his prince. Ahkin cradled the body of his friend in his arms, roaring his agony to the heavens. Pech’s eyes grew as glassy as the smoothest obsidian . . . and the scene froze again. The agony on his younger self’s face lanced through him to the point that he had to finally turn away. He had lived that moment once. He didn’t want to live it again.
“You never forgave yourself for letting him die,” Ometeotl stated matter-of-factly. “For letting any of them die that day.”
Ahkin’s throat constricted and his chest tightened. He could not answer. Would not answer.
“Sometimes there are moments that define a human for the rest of their lives,” she continued thoughtfully. “This was one such moment for you. You took the loss of those lives onto your shoulders, blamed yourself for not being able to save them. For Pech taking the blade meant for you. You have done nothing but add to the burden on your shoulders ever since.”
Ahkin finally cleared his throat. “Did he . . . did his spirit . . . ?” He couldn’t finish the question.
The Mother goddess nodded in understanding. “His spirit found peace in paradise. He rests with other men fallen in battle and women fallen in childbirth. The bravest of warriors among you.”
Though he was happy to hear it, the news did little to ease the aching wound in his soul. The guilt, the feeling of failure. Ahkin dropped his gaze to his feet. “What is the purpose of this, Mother? Why are you showing these memories to me?”
She stepped closer and cradled his cheek in her withered hand. He lifted his eyes to hers, to the eyes of the creator of the very universe. Inside them swirled endless depths of love he couldn’t even begin to fathom. “Because, my dear child, I need to warn you before it is too late. This journey before you is fraught with many dangers, and I fear that one of you will not survive. You must prepare yourself.”
The words were a knife to his stomach. One of them would not survive? A million questions flooded his tongue.
And Ometeotl did not give him the chance to ask. She reached up and touched his forehead, and once again, all went dark.
“You’re an idiot.”
Those were not the first words Ahkin expected to hear upon waking up. His head felt heavy, but judging by the ache in every muscle of his body, he didn’t think he was a spirit yet.
He tried to sit up and instantly felt Mayana’s ice-cold hands steady him.
“W-what happened?”
“You almost died. You should have let me help you.” Mayana’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and relief. He lifted his gaze to hers and saw moisture rimming her eyes. He automatically reached up to find her hand. Their fingers wove together upon his shoulder.
She made a small choking sound and threw herself toward him. Their bodies collided and Ahkin fell back into the dust, Mayana’s arms tight around his neck.
He grunted in pain as she landed on top of him. She immediately scrambled back, sniffing and wiping her nose with her arm. “I’m sorry! I was so worried, I—”
But Ahkin reached out and pulled her back toward him, this time wrapping his still-heavy arms around her. He pressed his face into the gritty strands of her hair. She was here. She was alive. He was alive.
Her arms held him equally as tight as she let out a sob.
He would have held on to her forever, except that Ona growled a warning from somewhere nearby. Ahkin pulled back slightly and found the dog standing not even an arm’s length away, his stance protective. They made eye contact, and Ona barked an angry, sharp sound.
“It’s all right, boy, I’m okay.” Mayana chuckled and reached out a hand to rub him gently on the side of his head. Ona leaned into her touch, instantly relaxing. Mayana pulled her hand back, and Ona’s gaze hardened on Ahkin again. He had never seen a dog act so protective of someone. And though he could relate to the feeling, he still felt intimidated by the stupid beast. Ahkin loosened their embrace, as though he had been scolded by his father.
“What happened?” he asked her again.
Mayana settled back onto her knees. “I ripped the snake fang out and you went unconscious. I thought you were dead.” She placed a hand against her forehead, as if the memory caused her physical pain. “I couldn’t remember if you were supposed to take them out or not. I’m not good with healing like Yemania. But then Ona came and licked your wound clean and it healed, but you still didn’t wake up for a long time. I was so scared.”
Ahkin fell silent for a moment, trying to remember the details of the dream he’d just had, of everything Mother Ometeotl had told him. Wondering if it had been real at all. He looked sideways at the dog, nodding his head in thanks. Ona curled his lips and bared his teeth. Ahkin almost laughed. He’d have to win the dog’s trust somehow.
He placed a hand on Mayana’s cheek. “I’m okay now. You don’t have to worry.”
She placed her hand over his and pressed it harder into her cheek. “I know, I just . . . I don’t want to do this alone.” She turned her head and pressed a kiss against his palm. His heart ached in response.
I fear that one of you will not survive. You must prepare yourself.
Ahkin’s chest tightened painfully. He refused to believe it was true. He would not let her die here. He couldn’t leave her alone in this place. Mayana’s large brown eyes were so tender and full of concern. His own eyes focused on her full, slightly trembling lips. The need to kiss her overwhelmed him.
“You won’t have to do it without me, I promise,” Ahkin whispered fiercely, leaning forward to close the distance between them.
Before their lips could meet, Ona wriggled between them like an obnoxious toddler and ran his fat tongue across Mayana’s face.
She laughed—a beautiful, joyful sound that Ahkin swore he could listen to for the rest of his life. She hugged the irritating creature that had interrupted his plans. Ona snuggled into her embrace and looked back at Ahkin with a satisfied smirk.
This isn’t over, dog, Ahkin mouthed at Ona, pointing a warning finger.
“Ahkin, look!” Mayana rose to her feet.
Ahkin jumped up to join her, half expecting another monster snake to be lunging toward them. He swayed slightly, grabbing Mayana’s shoulder to steady himself. She slid an arm around his waist and hugged him, her touch like blazing fire against his skin.
“They’re gone,” she breathed, pointing to the winding dirt paths that had—an hour before—been covered with writhing snakes of every size and color.
Sure enough, the dirt paths were clear, meandering away through the tall dead grass like little rivers of pale du
st. Not a single serpent was anywhere to be seen.
Ahkin narrowed his eyes at the jagged obsidian ranges in the distance. “Each layer must be a test of some kind.”
“And now we have to make it to the mountains?” She didn’t sound very enthusiastic, but he couldn’t really blame her. He didn’t want to think about what they’d find waiting for them there.
Ahkin pulled her tighter against him, and Ona growled in response. They would survive this. They had to.
She looked at him with such tenderness in her eyes, and Ahkin was grateful they were in this together.
That fierce protectiveness swept through him, the same he’d felt for his brothers on the battlefield. He pulled her in and pressed a kiss against the top of her head. The Mother’s warning still sent a chill down his spine. If one of them would not survive, he would make sure it was him. But it was also just a dream. Perhaps it had been induced by the snake’s poison, and the Mother hadn’t visited him at all. No, he’d make sure they both escaped the underworld if it was the last thing he did.
And with all the dangers waiting for them, it very well might be.
Chapter
4
“Where are we going?” Yemania whispered to Coatl. She leaned toward him over the edge of her wooden chair.
Her brother bobbed along beside her, suspended in his own chair carried by servants, and gripping the arm rests until his knuckles were white. Around them, the heat and moisture of the jungle pressed in as though someone had covered them all with thick, suffocating animal furs. At least with the heat came the fragrant smell of fresh earth and jungle blooms. Yemania always cherished the smells of the various flora, hidden treasures of possible remedies waiting to be found. Dappled light filtered down through the thick canopy above their heads, while the shadows of monkeys twitched amongst the branches.
“Millacatl,” Coatl answered, his mouth tight. He had hated being in the jungles ever since they were children. He was bitten by a spider that made his whole hand swell up to the size of a pineapple, and he had avoided the trees ever since. A loud bird call echoed somewhere above them, and Coatl flinched, turning around in his chair as though he was about to be attacked.