The Serpent Passage

by Todd Allen Pitts

  He returned beside Gukumatz and lifted his heavy tail—letting out a grunt that a body builder would be proud of—and kicked the sacred items free. He pulled the flashlight loose, wedging it through his belt, and draped the rope—still tied to the anti-gravity device—over his shoulder.

  “After awhile, crocodile,” William said to Gukumatz. He turned and climbed up the rope, resting halfway by bracing his feet on a thick knot. When he reached the top, William flopped on his back and rested there for a while, listening to the creek trickling beside him and splashing into the cenote below. He sat up and was about to leave, when a green webbed hand reached up from the edge of the cliff, grasping at his feet.

  The feathered serpent’s blood-covered crocodile face sprang into view. “Not to leave!” Gukumatz said with a growl. He swiped at William’s feet while continuing to crawl up the edge of the cliff.

  William scrambled back like a startled crab, kicking at the feathered serpent. Gukumatz lunged forward and bit William’s calf. Blood squirted down his leg as the beast tugged him back, digging his teeth deep into his flesh.

  With no other weapon handy, he grabbed the sacred flashlight from his side. With all his strength, he smacked Gukumatz repeatedly on the head. Sparks shot out from the tube and a shrill whistle blasted. Gukumatz grabbed the end of the flashlight and jerked it from William’s grip. The creature’s hand shook as intense electricity flowed into him; the feathers on his head shot straight up and burst into flames. William groaned when the current passed through the creature’s teeth and jolted his leg, just before he pulled himself free. A stinky smoke drifted out the feathered serpent’s nostrils, and his eyes exploded inside his head. The creature’s jaw dropped with a bubbly froth oozing out his mouth. With a final kick to the face, Gukumatz slid over the side of the cliff and splashed into the cenote.

  William crawled over to the edge and watched the creature sink. The sacred flashlight was still gripped in his hand; sparks lit up the cenote as he descended.

  Becoming aware of the pain in his leg, he inspected the bite marks. The wound was deep, and he thought it might need stitches. He pressed his hands against the torn flesh for a moment, waiting for the bleeding to slow. Blood continued to ooze out beneath his fingers, so he ripped a strip of fabric from his loincloth and wrapped it around his injured leg.

  A white flash drew his attention back to the chamber below, followed by another flash… and another. William staggered to his feet and gazed down with a perplexed look, watching the cenote light up every few seconds. “What the hell,” he muttered. More feathered serpents slithered up from the depths of the cenote. Three of them reached the shore, while more dark forms lurked beneath the water. One of the creatures caught sight of him and made an odd chirping sound.

  William spun around and hustled up the passage, grimacing from the pain in his leg. By the time he made it through the first stretch of rough passages and entered a metallic tunnel, he heard a rush of footsteps behind him. The tube merged with another rough passage. William took a bad step, and he fell into the stream, scraping his hands and elbows on the rocks. Through the dim light of the fluorescent algae in the tunnel, he saw two of the feathered serpents rushing toward him.

  A bolt of lightning whizzed over William’s head, straight down the passage with a deafening thunderclap. It hit the approaching feathered serpents, bursting them into a spray of green muck that splattered across the tunnel.

  “Get up!” Priest Quisac said.

  William shot a startled look over his shoulder, and he saw the Serpent Priest coming down the passage; he had a torch in one hand and the sacred weapon in the other. “Thank God you’re here!” William said. He stood and picked up the anti-gravity device that he had dropped during his fall. “There are more of them coming.”

  “I can see that… stand back,” the Serpent Priest said, motioning for him to step aside. William pressed his body against the cavern wall, covering an ear with his free hand. Priest Quisac fired again—with a thunderous blast—vaporizing another batch of feathered serpents that had made their way into the tube. “We must get above. They won’t follow us into the light.”

  They moved through the rocky passages until they reached another section of metallic tubes. A stampede of footsteps resonated from behind them. Priest Quisac stopped and gazed at the base of the cavern wall, at the point where the creek initiated its flow of water into the tunnels. William glanced back and saw lots of yellow eyes racing up the passage behind them, like a swarm of glowing bees. “We’ll never make it!” he said.

  “Take this,” Priest Quisac said, handing William the sacred weapon and torch. He snatched the anti-gravity device from him. “Get to the top!”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Just go!” the Serpent Priest said. He poked away at various buttons on the anti-gravity device, causing sparks to jump out and latch onto the rock wall above the stream. While William backed down the tunnel, he could tell that Priest Quisac was trying to block the passage, pulling his weight away from the rocky wall; the device made a terrible grinding noise. Just when the feathered serpents rounded the corner, the cavern collapsed. A flood of water gushed forth, blasting the creatures back down the passage. Falling rocks and dust filled the tube, followed by a torrent of water that swept William off his feet and extinguished the torch in his hand.

  He got up and waded through the tunnel; it had flooded up to his waist. “Priest Quisac!” he called out. He could only hear the falling rocks. When his eyes adjusted to the dim glow of the fluorescent algae in the tube, he noticed that the passage beyond had completely collapsed. He feared that Priest Quisac was crushed, or that he had been flushed away with the feathered serpents.

  William struggled up the flooded tunnel and bumped into something floating on the water; it was the Serpent Priest. Blood covered the back of his head; his ponytail had become red. William turned him over, and Priest Quisac coughed up a mouthful of water.

  “What happened?” Priest Quisac asked with a dizzy look.

  While kneeling beside the Serpent Priest to examine the cut on his head, William could hear the steady gurgle of rushing water just beyond the cave-in. It occurred to him that Priest Quisac had removed the barrier between the passage and the underground river, which went all the way to the Cenote Azul. That was the connection that had pulled William and Betty down there in the first place.

  Priest Quisac had dropped the anti-gravity during the rock slide, and William couldn’t find it anywhere. After fishing around the tube further down the tunnel, he came across the sacred weapon. “At least we still have this one,” William said.

  “It is good that we do,” Priest Quisac said. “We will need it.”

  They climbed up the steep entrance to the Sacred Cavern of Jade and found Teshna, standing with her arms crossed, glowering at them. From the anxious look on her face, she had clearly been going crazy with worry. But when she noticed their injuries, her stance softened. “What happened down there?” she asked, leaning closer to inspect William’s bloody leg.

  William shrugged with a crooked smile. “The feathered serpents found us.”

  Teshna gasped. She snatched her pack and retrieved some rags. She handed one to the Serpent Priest before returning her attention to William’s injured leg.

  Priest Quisac wiped the blood from his head. “Our mission to reach Chichén Itzá is even more critical now. The feathered serpents will be coming for us.”

  “We should have gone with our ancestors,” Teshna said. She pulled a jar from her pack and poured its gooey green contents onto his leg; he groaned from the pain.

  “No,” Priest Quisac said, regarding William with a knowing look. “You were correct, Balam. They are not our ancestors.”

  “That’s what Gukumatz told me too,” William said. “He called them the Grey Ones. He said they come from the north.” William winced when Teshna rubbed ointment into his bites.

  “If they aren’t our brothers from the stars, then wh
o are they?” Teshna asked.

  Priest Quisac shook his head. It was clearly a mystery to him too.

  Teshna finished wrapping a bandage around William’s leg and stood with her arms folded, giving Priest Quisac an angry stare. “You knew they weren’t our ancestors, and yet you still let them take Yax?”

  “Their intensions are not hostile,” Priest Quisac said. “Yax will be safe, and he will keep our people under control. It is better that the Grey Ones did not know of our suspicions.”

  “Why didn’t they take us all on the night of the eclipse,” William asked.

  Priest Quisac smiled. “They tried, but the bloodstone somehow prevented it,” he said. “I could sense it… and I believe you felt it too, Balam. When they let their guard down during that moment, I could see their thoughts. They have no plans to leave our world. They only have Chichén Itzá in mind. Yet I could not see what their agenda is there. We will find the Grey Ones. When we do, we will free our people for a greater purpose to come.”

  William sighed, realizing that his responsibilities were far from over. There were new obstacles to tackle in the days and months ahead. But after all the difficulties he had already overcome, he knew he was ready to face any challenge. It didn’t bother him that the tunnels leading to the Serpent Passage were now blocked, for he had helped Betty to get home. She would let his mom know that he was okay, freeing him of that lingering concern. Now he could focus on his path ahead. His future was there, with the people of the ancient Maya.

  Teshna handed Priest Quisac the jade box she had been guarding. He retrieved the bloodstone by its silver necklace and held it out to William with a proud nod. It reminded him of the day he first accepted the bloodstone at Yax’s palace. Back then, he couldn’t grasp the significance of the red gem. William leaned over, allowing the Serpent Priest to place it around his neck; it felt as if he was renewing his pledge to help the Mayans. He could now appreciate the magnitude of the gift, and he understood the important responsibilities the bloodstone carried. For the first time, William felt that he had truly earned the privilege to wear it.

  William pulled Teshna close to his side and gave her a confident smile that melted away the worries he saw in her eyes. He gripped the bloodstone over his heart and gazed into the warmth of the solstice sun—embracing his new life unfolding before him… and daring the adventures to come.

  Now enjoy a preview of

  THE BLOODSTONE

  the amazing sequel to

  THE SERPENT PASSAGE

  THE SERPENT PASSAGE SERIES

  BOOK 2

  TODD ALLEN PITTS

  Chapter One

  The ground trembled beneath William’s feet. It was so subtle that he thought he had imagined it. “Did you feel something?” he asked Teshna. She glanced over with a puzzled look, while grabbing a vine to steady her climb down the hill above the Sacred Cavern of Jade.

  Priest Quisac went to the cavern’s entrance and ran his fingertips against the metallic surface of the opening, looking like a blind person reading brail.

  The hill shook violently all of a sudden. William lost his balance and fell to his knees, groaning when he scraped his already injured leg against the rocky surface. Teshna clung to the vine she held—jostled about like she had just roped a wild horse. Priest Quisac braced himself by gripping the edge of the entrance. A green glow emanated from the tunnel beyond, lighting up his face just before hot air blasted out the cavern’s entrance, forcing the Serpent Priest backwards several steps. He tripped and fell on top of William.

  The jagged rocks pressed painfully into William’s spine. He could feel the tremble dissipate beneath him—like a Tibetan gong releasing its energy after a solid strike—reminding him that just below the hill was the hull of a spaceship that had crashed there thousands of years before.

  “The feathered serpents are coming,” Priest Quisac said matter-of-factly, as he shifted his weight off of William.

  “Didn’t you block the tunnel?” Teshna asked, with her turquoise-painted eyes growing big. William thought the Mayan Princess looked even more beautiful when she was scared; her intensity was accentuated by the tiny wrinkles on her angular forehead, and her mouth sparkled as the sun reflected off the jewels embedded in her teeth.

  Priest Quisac hauled himself up and snatched his pack. “They have made another way through. We must leave at once.”

  William jumped up and snapped his attention to the cavern’s entrance, half-expecting to see the crocodile-like face of a feathered serpent glaring back at him. Instead, he only saw mist rising from the crumpled blue leaves of the agave plants near the opening; they had shriveled from the heat, leaving a bitter-sweet smell in the air. “Will they follow us in the daylight?” William asked. He recalled how Gukumatz—the feathered serpent he had encountered at the Serpent Passage—had shielded its eyes from the glare of the sacred flashlight.

  “The intensity of the sun will be bearable for them at dusk,” the Serpent Priest said, glancing at the sun’s late afternoon position. “We must be a good distance from here by then. They move fast… and they will track us.”

  William gripped his right calf, putting pressure against the bandages that were already soaked with blood—where Gukumatz had bit him during his escape from the caverns. He knew his torn skin needed stitches, but there was no time to deal with that at the moment. He snatched his pack, threw it over his shoulder, and followed Teshna down the rocky knoll.

  Priest Quisac joined them a moment later at the base of the hill, and they collected their weapons that they had left there some hours before. The Serpent Priest retrieved his spear that accompanied his arsenal of weapons—a dagger, obsidian darts, and a short atlatl. William clutched his maquahuitl sword; it looked like a mahogany baseball bat embedded with sharp chunks of obsidian. He gave it a couple swings—like a baseball player winding up for the next pitch.

  While leaning over to get her bow, Teshna studied William’s hurt leg. The bandage had become saturated with blood; it trickled down his ankle and oozed over the straps of his sandal. “Balam, your injury needs more attention.”

  He loved the cute way Teshna said his name, Balam, and he recalled how the pronunciation of his name had stuck from when he first introduced himself to her brother, Yax. That day seemed like a lifetime ago, when he and Betty had just arrived into the lands of the ancient Maya. “I’m fine,” he said, making an effort to sound more confident in his statement than he actually felt. The loss of blood, combined with breathing the agave fumes on the hill, made him feel light-headed.

  Teshna took a moment to wrap another cloth around his calf, and then regarded the Serpent Priest with worry. “He won’t be able to travel far like this.”

  “We have no choice,” Priest Quisac said with an impatient scowl.

  William put his arm around Teshna’s thin waist, feeling the soft curve of her hip beneath her tight-fitting huipil, and he nudged her forward. After almost being killed by the feathered serpents, he was anxious to get as far away from the caverns as possible. He knew the creatures would be pursuing them, which provided him with all the motivation he needed to push through the discomfort of his injury awhile longer.

  “This way,” Priest Quisac said, pointing with his spear to the east.

  William hesitated. “Shouldn’t we go the other way?” he asked, looking in the opposite direction. “Aren’t we headed to Chichén Itzá?”

  “Yes, but we must take another path,” the Serpent Priest said with conviction.

  Without debate, William followed Priest Quisac’s lead, with Teshna by his side. They sloshed through the marshy wetlands that surrounded the Sacred Cavern of Jade for at least an hour; the swamp stretched on much further to the east. William thought it would have made more sense to go west, to get to solid ground sooner where they could make more progress. He considered arguing the point with Priest Quisac. After all, he was the master of the bloodstone, and he assumed his opinion should be taken into account. However, William also re
cognized that he was still an eighteen-year-old American kid with a lot to learn about the Mayan world that he had been thrust into. He had come to trust the instincts of the Serpent Priest, and he knew there had to be a good reason for his decision to travel in that direction.

  Dragonflies hovered just above the murky water, and buzzing mosquitoes lingered all around them. But the pesky bugs kept their distance, for the most part, due to the repellent they used—an oily compound that smelled like lavender. He remembered how badly he had been bitten when they first hiked to Dzibanché; the mosquito bites speckled his fair-skinned body as though he had broken out with chicken pox.

  William couldn’t believe that six months had elapsed since that day, when they first arrived through the Serpent Passage. He recalled the shock he felt when he realized that they had traveled a thousand years into the past. Even worse was the desperation that followed from not knowing if they could ever return home. However, it didn’t take long for William to find at least one tempting reason to stay. He glanced at Teshna, and they exchanged a fond look, reminding him of how they had fallen for each other as she nursed him back to health in Dzibanché. While hiking beside him, she carried the same look of concern as she had back then; she kept an attentive eye on his every step, as if she thought he might collapse at any moment.

  Yet it was not only his love for Teshna that prompted him to stay, rather than to return home with Betty. William had come to understand his important obligations there with the Mayan people. He only hoped that Betty had made it back safely, and that she could deliver his message to his mom. The thought of his mother knowing what had happened to him—that he didn’t drown in the Cenote Azul, as it likely appeared—was a huge weight off his back.