He skipped his normal pushup regimen and padded through the hallway and into the washroom. After returning to his room, he looked for some fresh clothes. Fresh being a relative term. Without a washing machine, they had been rinsing their clothing in the subterranean river below the house. After a quick sniff at his shirt, he realized it was wash time again. The sheets on his bed spilled onto the floor, half covering the lumpy pile of shirts, shorts and underwear. If his mom could see his room, she’d give him ‘the look’, for sure. He thought of his parents and sent a quick message to them from his phone. He didn’t want them to be concerned.
He peeked into Ana’s room and saw her bed was made and her belongings sat tidily in place as though a housekeeper had stopped by. It was already late morning and he wondered why Balam hadn’t awakened him earlier. He was glad he had allowed him to sleep in, though. He had needed to. His headache had dulled, leaving a pulsing in his temples. It probably would have been a good idea to pace himself when partying with a five-hundred-year-old.
Down in the dining area, half the table was spread with the remnants of breakfast. On the other half, a long carved stone box lay on a cloth and Balam sat beside it with his hands resting on either side. Ana was stretched out on the couch, unmoving. He assumed she was napping.
“Good morning, Chance.”
“Morning, Balam. Not so sure it’s good. Bad headache.”
“Drink some of this,” Balam said as he held out a cup filled with something that smelled of lemon.
Chance eyed it warily and hesitated. “I think I’ve had enough.”
“No, please. It will help you.”
He accepted the cup from his great-grandfather and took a tentative sip. It definitely had lemon in it but there was another flavor he wasn’t familiar with. If it would help his headache, though, he was game. He plopped down into a chair and began to eat some fruit and corncakes.
“Thanks for letting me sleep in. I needed it.”
Balam nodded and neglected to cover up the grin on his face. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”
“Yeah. Good times. Not sure I remember everything.”
“Do you remember your nagual?”
Chance remembered the dark eyes that stared out at him from the fire and said, “Yes, the bear.”
He took another sip of the lemon drink and noticed his headache was dissolving. “This stuff works great. My headache is gone.”
“Very good. Then we can start when you are ready.”
“What are we doing today?” Chance said as he eyed the strange box now in Balam’s hands.
“You are ready for your nagual tattoo.”
“Really? Excellent!”
Ana stirred on the couch and sat up, stretching. “You’re up, Chance. Been waiting for you. What’s going on?”
Balam opened the carved box and pulled out something wrapped in aged cotton. He unwrapped it, revealing a long stick with a metal piece that looked like a nail at its end. Ana wandered to the table and said, “Is that a weapon?”
“This is a tattoo tool, Ana.”
Chance wondered how many other people it had been used on. It looked very old. The wood was dark and the metal no longer shone but had a hazy black sheen to it. He was glad he was up to date with his tetanus shots. Ana exchanged a concerned look with him.
“You gonna sterilize it?” she asked, and Chance was relieved she’d saved him from asking the question.
“I will rest the tip in the hot coals. Let us go to the couch. Now, Chance, lay on your stomach.”
He knew he had said he wanted a tattoo but as he stared at the tool, he began to feel anxious. Ana held his hand and they walked to the living room. The hearth was smoldering with hot coals from the morning fire and Balam rested the tip in the glowing embers for a few minutes and then set it aside. He produced a stone pestle filled with a tarry black substance and another stick etched with designs that had a thick, hammer-like end.
Chance pulled off his shirt and lay down as Balam had instructed. He rested his chin on a cushion and watched as his great-grandfather settled beside him. Balam dipped a brush into the black ink and touched it to Chance’s back. The cool, wet bristles trailed across his skin. It was almost relaxing. “I use the brush to make the design,” he explained.
“How’s it look?” he asked Ana, who was hanging over the back of the couch, observing everything. She gave a low whistle and said, “Looks great, Balam. You’re an artist.”
“And now this instrument will draw your blood and leave ink in the wound. As you know, when you are injured and shift back into human form, you return to health. Tomorrow we will see if you can shift and hopefully return to your shape with your tattoo. It is not easy and it requires much focus but I believe you are ready.”
The mental image of Balam driving a piece of ink-tipped metal into his skin for hours on end turned his stomach. And it would all be for nothing if he wasn’t strong enough to retain the tattoo. He wanted to prove to Balam and to himself that he was truly strong enough.
“Your nagual will look out for you if it is meant to be. Are you ready, Chance?”
After a deep breath, Chance rested his chin onto his clenched fists and said, “Yes.”
Balam withdrew the tool from the edge of the hearth, dipped a cloth into a clear liquid and cleaned the metal tip with it. Then, he immersed it in the ink and rested his arm across Chance’s shoulders. One hand held the metal-tipped tool; the other, the hammer-like stick.
The first jab at his skin was like a bee sting, and the repetitive poking made his nerves jump. Balam kept tapping one stick against the other and soon a rhythm formed that echoed off the limestone walls. Chance closed his eyes and lost himself in the sound. After a few minutes, a cool cloth was being dragged across the newly tattooed section of his back. Like a storm bringing rain to an inferno, it soothed the fiery pain but only for a moment until it began again.
Chance wondered if conventional tattoos were this painful. He didn’t want to show signs of discomfort so he tried to meditate. Niyol’s voice echoed in his thoughts, a welcome diversion. Let yourself relax, Chance. Take a deep breath. Feel it go down to your feet and up to your head. Then breathe out all your pain and tension. Keep nothing. Only focus on your energy center.
His jaw was clenched tight as well as his abdominal and back muscles. With his eyes shut, he began to take long, slow breaths. He allowed his body to relax and visualized his energy core. Its blue electricity was ready and awake, so different from over a month ago when he’d had to strain to get it to react.
He remained in his meditative state until Balam’s voice broke his concentration. “I have done my part. How are you, Chance?”
He cleared his throat and said, “I’m okay. What time is it?”
Chance opened his eyes and discovered Ana was no longer hanging over the back of the couch. She walked over from the kitchen. A delicious smell filled the house.
“Chance, it looks amazing,” she said enthusiastically.
“It is evening, nearly meal time. How do you feel?”
He envisioned an open wound on his back and answered, “Well, getting a tattoo isn’t like getting a massage. It burns like a son of a gun, but I should be okay.”
“Ana, it’s time for the leaves.”
“Oh, right.”
She disappeared from sight and came back with a stack of dripping leaves. As she held them out to Balam, he rose to his feet and said, “Would you like to do it? I need to take a moment before dinner to rest.”
“Sure.”
Ana watched him move away, walked around the couch and knelt beside Chance. Her hands trailed along his neck and shoulder. His back radiated with heat, but the cool touch of her fingers on his skin instantly tamed the pain. She laid wet leaves on him, which quelled the heat.
“Does that feel better?”
“Yes.”
She kissed his shoulder and helped him up. As he sat up, he braced his hands on the cushions to avoid passing out.
“Whoa.” He shook off the dizziness and said, “So what have you been up to?”
“I started dinner. Oh, Balam let me look through a very old book that was compiled by some Mayan healers, like an encyclopedia of plants and their uses. I can’t understand most of the glyphs but some of it is written in Spanish and that I can work my way around. But mostly I’m looking at the sketches. I recognize some of the plants from Sanchia’s garden.”
“Cool. Sounds like you’ve been busy. Say, you willing to help me to the bathroom mirror so I can take a look at the tat?”
“Of course.”
Ana held her hands out to him and he rose tenderly to his feet. The leaves clung to his back like bandages even as they walked upstairs. The washroom was small and there was barely enough room for them to maneuver. She peeled off all the leaves and palmed them in her hand. Chance turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder.
He sucked in his breath as he took in the giant tattooed glyph. It spread across his upper back, touching both shoulders, and went down to his mid-back. The bear’s body stretched over his skin and its face glared at him with its claws extended. His skin was red and swollen and blood beaded along the black lines of the body art.
“Wow. Mom’s gonna freak.”
Ana snickered and began covering up the artwork with the wet leaves again. When she finished, Chance turned and pressed her against the gray stone wall. His fingers played with the edge of her shirt, and he experienced an almost electric charge from brushing against her skin. Her cheek came in contact with his and they stood breathing in unison for a while until his stomach rumbled.
“Hungry?” Ana asked breathlessly.
“Oh, yeah. Always,” he said with a smirk.
“C’mon, you can get a snack, but we should wait for Balam to have dinner.”
They left the tight confines of the bathroom but Chance didn’t want to let go of her so he kept his hand on her shoulder as they walked downstairs. Just being in her presence made him feel centered, calm. He truly couldn’t imagine life without her…
“You have rested, but now it is time to see if you have the strength to keep your nagual’s mark. Your power has been restoring and expanding. If you can pass this test, than it is time to teach you the Yaguar. But the first form you take must be the animal you are tattooed with.”
Chance fidgeted with the fabric around his waist and stared at the ground as his great-grandfather addressed him.
“Spend time as your nagual. Discover its secrets. When it is time to return to your human form, keep your mark in your thoughts and reject the restorative power that takes over. You only have one chance.”
Ana walked up to him and gave him a hug, careful not to touch his back. She whispered in his ear, “Good luck, Chance. I believe in you.”
Where her hands trailed along his shoulders, his skin tingled in response. He gave her a squeeze and kissed her lips. “Thank you, my love.”
He wanted to get this over with. Although he was a bit anxious about giving it a try, he knew he was ready. His eye was on the prize—learning Balam’s mighty Yaguar form. Chance had every intention to learn every skill he could.
He didn’t need to sit and meditate to collect his focus now but stood with his eyes shut and thought about his favorite form. Blue iridescent lines created the silhouette of a grizzly bear in his thoughts. His energy core ignited, surging power throughout every cell in his body. The familiar sensation of fur erupting over his skin tingled and the aches from his tattoo dissolved away.
A deep rumble resonated in his chest. The world appeared the same through a bear’s eyes, but his sense of smell had been significantly heightened. Ana’s intoxicating aroma had so many layers to it he would know it anywhere. Balam had his own musky odor that Chance had begun to memorize. And then there was the scent of the local fauna and flora.
Any concern about returning to his human form and retaining his tattoo were gone. He wanted to do nothing but relish in the embodiment of his nagual. Ana ran her fingers through his fluffy brown pelt and said, “Go on. Introduce the grizzly to Mexico.”
Chance lowered his muzzle to touch his nose to hers and a throaty purr escaped his lips. Then, as quickly as his hulky body could move, he turned and thundered into the jungle.
His cumbersome form made it hard to navigate through the lanky tree shoots and dense growth but he forced a path anyway. Delicious and nauseating smells stirred around his feet and to the far corners of the jungle.
He pushed through a grove of trees and vines and something sweet-smelling caught his attention. Just above him, a cluster of red fruit the size of a fist hid behind some leaves. He lifted his paw up and hooked a claw behind the bough, sending the fruit down to the ground.
Even though he didn’t have use of his hands and thumbs, he did his best. Soon, juice and tiny seeds covered his fur as he pressed the fruits flesh into his maw. He could have purred in contentment.
Without warning, his nose picked up the smell of sweat and chocolate. A human.
It wasn’t Ana or Balam. He knew their scents and this one was unfamiliar to him. He was curious. It could just be a local, but what if it wasn’t?
He righted himself to his feet and lifted his snout as he honed onto the stranger’s location and propelled himself forward with purpose. Power and strength didn’t fail him as he surged through the jungle. He lost all track of time but felt the weight of the setting sun on him as though it were lowering onto his shoulders.
The scent led him to a ravine. He paused at the tree line, cautious as he remembered Ana’s trap catching him by surprise. The stinging bite of the spear had made a lasting impression.
Chance scanned the area and inhaled, searching for answers. The amulet Balam had given him for protection swayed from his neck as he teetered on the edge of the ridge, ready to explore. It appeared to be safe, so he stumbled down the hill, his burdensome load pushing him off balance. His snout led him to a large stone and the trail stopped there. So many animals had passed through the area. Too many to count.
The lively sounds of the jungle told him that whomever had been here earlier was gone. But how did he or she leave and in what form?
It was a long run back home, but now that he was an experienced tracker, it wasn’t much trouble. He simply followed his own scent until Ana’s and Balam’s got stronger. Meanwhile, day became night and as dusk set in, Chance’s vision sharpened.
They were nearby now. Their aroma got stronger the closer he got to home. He moved carefully through the prickly shrubbery and wandered into the clearing.
Ana sat on a stone with a pile of various leaves on her lap. Balam stood beside her and pointed at a flower she was holding. Without looking up, Balam said, “Welcome, Chance. How was bear form?”
Chance made an effort to answer, but the growls that came out sounded like a Wookie’s. He rose on his hind legs and towered above them.
“Are you ready for your final test?”
Right. All feelings of anxiety where thrust aside. He knew the grizzly was his nagual. He perched on the fabric of his sarong and recalled Balam’s instructions. The memory of his tattoo became his focus. He would have to try and keep his body from automatically healing and removing it. When he shifted into an animal it was almost like squeezing into someone else’s clothing, but returning back to his human form was akin to going home. It was safe, normal and most importantly, it fit.
Slowly, he began to change. His flesh ached as the transformation slowed. He kept his mark in his mind and a raw spasm rippled across his back.
Had he done it?
Cool air brushed over his naked body and goose bumps skimmed his arms and legs.
“Oh,” Ana’s voice said from behind.
Quickly, he snatched up the fabric at his feet and wrapped it around his waist. When he turned around, her cheeks were flushed red and she avoided his gaze.
“Did I do it?” he asked, searching Ana’s and Balam’s faces for the answer.
The stoic expression often worn by Balam dissolved into a grin. “Congratulations, Chance. You did well.”
Pride and relief washed over him. He was one step closer to learning the mighty yaguar form and hopefully, growing strong enough to protect them from Markus.
Ana set the plants on the rock, sidled up to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I just couldn’t look away. I wanted to see if the tattoo was there.”
Chance wrapped his arms around her and growled in her ear. “S’okay. Any time you feel like evening things up—I’m there.”
They took a few steps toward home when Chance remembered the smell of the stranger who’d disappeared. “Hey, when I was in the jungle, in bear form, I smelled a human and followed the scent. Just where it was strongest, it cut out.”
“Did you recognize the scent?” Balam asked.
“Smelled like sweat and chocolate, but I didn’t recognize the scent. Do you think it could have been a shifter?”
“It is possible. The last time I went to town to pick up supplies from Sanchia, I smelled something new. Most shifters are curious about each other. It may be nothing to worry about but a shifter must always be on guard.”
Chance felt Ana tense up beside him and he squeezed her hand. “We’re okay. It wasn’t Markus, I’d know his stench anywhere. Next time we see him it won’t be an uneven match.”
He wasn’t as confident as he made himself sound. He wanted to believe it, but deep down he was very much afraid of another run-in with his cousin. Was he prepared?
Chapter 28
“So, what are we doing today?” Chance asked Balam but Ana could tell what he really wanted to ask. If it had been Niyol, he would have just said it. Will you teach me the yaguar today?
Their relationship with Balam had changed over the past month and a half. At first, neither had known where they’d stood with him but now Ana knew that beneath his harsh exterior was a man of sensitivity and depth. It was in the little things. Like in the morning, when he left a small chunk of chocolate on the counter for her because he knew she liked sucking on a piece as she made the morning batch of hot chocolate. Or when she caught a glimmer of pride flash across his face when Chance picked up a new ability.
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