“If you’re hungry, I could catch a rabbit and roast it on a stick,” a voice behind her said. “I learned that in survival training when I was a Marine. Or I could raid one of the houses in Kansas again, like what we did before.”
Tara turned. Standing behind her was Gyle. He was near the old fire pit used by the skin walkers when she encountered them the last time she was here.
She looked away and stared out into the horizon. “Did you talk to El Brujo?”
Gyle walked up and stood beside her. “Yes. There was another man who showed up. He said he was part of some government task force to help fight the gods. He told me the situation has gotten worse. The Aztecs are currently busy doing their sacrifices, but they’ll be back real soon. If we’re gonna try and defeat them, we have to get started right now.”
Tara looked down and slowly shook her head. “What does it matter what we do? I tried to do what was right and my brother died anyway. What’s the point of it all? Everybody dies sooner or later, so it just feels so stupid to even keep trying.”
“Look, I know it hurts losing someone you cared about,” Gyle said. “An entire company of men I was with were killed by the Babylonians in Iraq. The reason we go on is because there are other people than can still be saved. The ones that died, we can’t let them die in vain either.”
“We don’t even know if we are saving anybody,” Tara said softly. “We don’t even know if what we’re doing amounts to anything at all.”
“Your actions did save people,” Gyle said. “Remember that camp in Fort Leavenworth? You saved thousands of lives there. We took out that camp and freed all the prisoners and they made it back to Federal lines. You reunited that Olsen kid with his dad. So searching for your brother wasn’t ineffectual, some good did come out of it.”
Tara’s face was a stone mask of melancholy. “I don’t wanna do this anymore. Let somebody else save the world. I’m just not strong enough.”
“You were chosen for a reason, Tara. The trickster chose you. You’re a lot stronger than you think.”
Tara grimaced. “Well I don’t want it! Don’t you see? All I ever wanted to do was to just take care of my brother! I didn’t want to be this superhero going around and saving the world! Why me? Why me!”
“Because you’re special,” Gyle said. “Think about it. Of all the people who could have done things, you did so much more. You’ve traveled across other dimensions that most people just dream of. You’ve talked to gods and tricked them. You beat evil wizards. You have done so much. If there was still a national news media, you’d be a worldwide sensation. The entire country is depending on you now.”
“But I never wanted any of this.”
“There’s an old saying that heroes are made by popular demand,” Gyle said. “Nobody ever sets out to be a hero, at least the real ones don’t. A true hero doesn’t discover him or herself until later on. If you look back at everything you’ve accomplished, I can say that you’ve earned that badge. You can’t blame yourself for your brother. You couldn’t have known what would have happened.”
Tara bit her lip. In the end, he was right. She couldn’t have known that her brother would have gone with the Olsens. She thought Timmy would stick around the trailer park to wait for her. Blaming the trickster wasn’t right either. She consciously chose to get on the van with Larry. She deliberately chose to continue the journey with Josh. She made the decision to meet El Brujo and learn the ways of power. It was her choices and hers alone that determined her own fate. The country was crumbling and if she chose to stay away from the upcoming fight she would cause the loss of countless lives, just as her decision to leave her brother behind led to his death.
It was at that moment that she felt a tingling sensation at the back of her neck. As if there was some sort of nearby presence other than Gyle nearby. Tara looked around but she saw nothing. As she scanned through the tall grass she sensed a small figure at the corner of her eye, just to the side of her field of vision. When she quickly turned it was gone. As she dug through the memories of her mind, she knew who it was. It had to be. Timmy.
Gyle noticed that she seemed lethargic, almost gloomy. Then Tara’s demeanor became agitated, it was as if she saw something, but his own enhanced senses were telling him that there was no one else around, other than the crickets. He looked at her. “Are you alright?”
Tara nodded. She had been waiting for a sign and she got it. It was as if she was made whole again. The feelings of loss and frustration began to ebb away from her inner core. It wasn’t quite a direct contact, more like a feeling. That was all she needed for now. “Timmy. I sensed him for bit.”
“Your brother? Did he say anything?”
Tara made a slight smile. “Sort of. I think a part of him is in me now. I guess if I need some extra encouragement, I think he’ll be the one to give it to me.”
Gyle rubbed the back of his bald, leathery head. He didn’t get it, but she seemed to be feeling a lot better now. “Okay, well you seem in a good mood for the first time in awhile. So what’s your decision? Do you want to help me or stay on the sidelines?”
“I’m not sure. But I know what Timmy would do,” Tara said softly. “Even in the playground he was a fighter, and he would always win against other boys the same age as him. If he was around he would tell me to fight. I think that’s what I’ll do too.”
21. The Rain God
Teotihuacan
It was the day of the official inauguration of the majestic temple of Tlaloc, and the dark clouds above the city had hung low in anticipation of a massive torrent of rain. For several days the festivities had been ongoing, and it was now about to climax at a fever pitch. Huge crowds of people thronged the main temple plaza. The representative high priests and avatars of Xipe Totec and Huitzilopochtli from the imperial capital of Tenochtitlan were present, as they observed the ceremonies from their own respective temples. This was the day that the avatar of Tlaloc would reveal himself, so that the triumvirate leadership that held sway over the Aztec world would finally be complete.
The ceremony was to be the final ritual before the next offensive against the Americans would begin. While Tlaloc was a minor player in the Triple Alliance of the gods, his power brought about the constant rains that inundated much of the Gulf of Mexico. His control over the weather was integral in allowing the dreaded tzitzimimeh star demons to be deployed in support of the Aztec armies. With a never-ending army of reincarnated warriors, storms that covered the sun and their demonic shock troops, the Aztec military was invincible against the might of the most powerful nation on earth. The imperial leadership was even contemplating a possible campaign further north, towards the frozen lands, once the United States was dealt with. A second campaign southwards, to crush the newly resurgent Incas, was also planned. The possibilities were endless. The signs were good. It was a great time to be an Aztec.
Tepiltzin scratched his nose before adjusting the mask over his face. It was fortunate that the ritual costumes involving the rain god centered on the use of masks, for he needed to hide his face. He was wearing the heron headdress on the top of his head and a feathered white tunic over his loincloth. It was the standard uniform of the litter bearers. Tepiltzin was standing in an alleyway behind the west plaza, less than a hundred yards from the new temple. The side streets were mostly deserted, as practically the whole city was observing the festivities as they lined up along the Avenue of the Dead. If he was going to pull this off, then the timing had to be perfect. Tepiltzin turned and walked around a large wooden crate that had been placed along the sides of the alley. He knocked twice on the top of the box before pushing it open.
Inside the box was a nine year-old boy. The child was sitting on a stool and he was constantly adjusting his headdress since it was so itchy. The boy’s costume was very similar to what Tepiltzin was wearing, except for the fact that the child’s tunic was in a deep blue color and he wore no mask. The boy looked up at him and smiled.
Tepiltzin smil
ed back. “How are you doing?”
The boy shrugged. “It’s a little hot in here, but I am ready to do my duty in honor of the rain god.”
Tepiltzin grinned and patted him lightly on the head. “Do not worry, the procession will be here soon. Make sure you put on your cloak before I take you out of the box. Remember, if someone asks, your name is Atl.”
The boy nodded as he took the black cloak which was sitting in the base of the box. Tepiltzin closed the crate once more before making sure nobody noticed them. No one did.
Tepiltzin sighed as he walked over to the edge of the alley. The crowds had their backs turned towards him as they sang along with the musicians and dancers who made their way down the avenue. It had been sheer luck that his assistant Chipahua was able to find a family with a boy who was the same age and had a passing resemblance to Isabel’s son Atl. When Tepiltzin met them and told them what an honor it would be for their son to be sacrificed to the rain god, they were more than enthusiastic and willingly gave their boy to him. The substitute had fully understood what he would be doing, so all Tepiltzin had to do now was to make the switch and he would be able to bring the real Atl back to his mother in Tenochtitlan.
As the procession of Eagle Knights finally passed, Tepiltzin could see the litter bearers carrying the sacrificial children as they slowly made their way along the avenue. He quickly ran back to where the box was and opened it. The substitute Atl quickly put on the cloak so it covered his entire body, hiding his costume. Tepiltzin picked the boy up and took him out of the crate. As he held the boy’s hand, the high priest of Xipe Totec calmly walked out of the alleyway and started to mingle with the crowds that lined the boulevard.
Tepiltzin slowly made his way on a parallel course as he walked towards the incoming procession of litter bearers, just staying behind the front of the throng of onlookers. His steps were deliberate as he made sure the boy was right behind him as they weaved through the crowd. He needed to find his assistant Chipahua, who was the front litter bearer of the real Atl.
The litters were essentially wooden platforms with small chairs on them. The children that were sitting on the chairs were decked out in the same costumes that the substitute boy was wearing. Tepiltzin could see quite a few of the children were crying and holding out their hands, begging anyone to help them. Many people in the crowd were encouraging them to continue. One set of parents were walking alongside their daughter who was up on one of the litters and they were encouraging her to cry even harder, as they kept teasing her that they would take her back. According to custom, the more tears they cried, the better it would be, for Tlaloc’s powers would be enhanced by their symbolic crying. Many in the crowd would shout out insults and jeers to discourage the children even further, to break their spirit so that more tears would flow.
Tepiltzin turned to look at the boy he was leading. The substitute didn’t seem fazed at all by what was going on. The high priest had a momentary lapse of confidence as he sensed that the child might be too eager to be sacrificed and might just give the game up for him. Just as he contemplated slapping the boy to make him cry, he heard a low whistle coming from one of the litters.
As he turned back to look at the procession, he immediately noticed Chipahua alongside of him. His assistant had slowed down in order to make sure Tepiltzin would notice. Chipahua started to put his litter down in order to get Atl off from the chair that he was sitting on, but the rear bearer immediately shouted that they needed to keep moving. Chipahua tried to say that there was a pebble in his shoe, but a Tlaloc junior priest who was nearby began to approach them. Tepiltzin waved his assistant away as that part of the procession started moving again.
Tepiltzin silently cursed to himself. The junior priests of the rain god were around and he would not be able to make the switch while the procession was ongoing. There were too many people watching. The only other way was when the procession finally made it to the base of the majestic temple. He would have to make a more direct approach if he was going to do that. Clasping the substitute boy’s hand even tighter, he crossed the avenue once the last of the litter bearers passed him, and they both started using the deserted alleyways to get ahead of the procession.
As the two of them ran up past a side street that ended near the side of the temple of Tlaloc, Tepiltzin noticed a junior priest standing near the side entrance. This side of the pyramid was in shadow since the top of the temple had blocked out the sky. The Tlaloc priest was evidently the one in charge of leading the children up the steps of the pyramid. He was wearing a stiff, sleeveless black shirt with elaborate designs and had a small wooden club tied to his belt. There was no one else around.
Tepiltzin crouched down as he pushed the substitute to the side of the wall. “Stay here,” he whispered.
The boy sensed something was wrong but he dutifully nodded. Tepiltzin waited until the priest’s attention was turned towards the incoming procession as he slowly made his way behind him. Just as he got to the back of the priest of Tlaloc, Tepiltzin took out a flint knife from beneath his shirt, grabbed the target’s forehead and plunged it at the back of his neck. The priest started convulsing as Tepiltzin tore off his mask while pushing the dagger further into the hapless man’s throat. He could hear the crunching of cartilage as the flint blade tore through the neck bones. Gurgling crimson, the man finally drowned in his own blood.
Tepiltzin used all of his strength as he dragged the bloody corpse to the side alley. Quickly taking off his own clothes, he put on the dead man’s shirt and metallic armbands. The sounds of the procession were getting closer. They were nearly there. Tepiltzin hissed as the fumbled with the dead man’s pearl necklace as he put it on his neck. He ran over to where the Tlaloc mask was lying on the ground before picking it up and placing it over his face, just as the lead litter bearers made it to the base of the temple pyramid.
He gestured at the boy to follow him as he slowly walked out to the front part of the temple. His hands and arms were covered in blood, but he hoped that the crowd wouldn’t notice it since it would be looking like that once the sacrifices would begin anyway. The sounds of trumpets and drums were constant, as a group of four priests came out of the base entrance of the pyramid. Tepiltzin knew enough of how the rituals would work as he began gesturing at the litter bearers to place their platforms on the ground.
One of the junior priests who was overseeing the procession walked slowly over to him. He pointed at Tepiltzin’s bloody arms. “What happened to you?”
Tepiltzin just shrugged as he began to usher the children who were lining up in front of him. “One of the spectators tried to attack me while I was standing near the side of the temple. I took care of him.”
The junior priest tried to glance over at the side of the pyramid but he couldn’t see anything from his angle. “What? Who attacked you? Are you hurt?”
“No,” Tepiltzin said as he gently pushed another child up the steps. “This was his blood. I threw him on the side of the alley. I’ll ask a crew to clean it up once the ceremony is finished. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
Even though they both wore masks that resembled the goggle-eyed rain god, the other priest stared at him intently. “You don’t seem very familiar to me. Are you part of the batch from Tenochtitlan?”
Tepiltzin nodded as he pushed another reluctant child up the first of the stone steps. “Yes, High Priest Eleuia initiated me himself several months ago, but then he sent me on an errand to the city of El Tajin. I only recently returned.”
The other priest was taken aback. “That is strange, I have been serving as High Priest Eleuia’s secretary these past few months and he never told me about it. Nevertheless, I shall ask him about it once this ceremony is finished. Tell me, what was this errand that he tasked you to do?”
Tepiltzin noticed that Isabel’s boy Atl was next in line. He gestured at the trembling child to come forward. “I was tasked to find a willing sacrifice for the rain god and I did find one,” he said
to the other priest as Atl stood in front of him. Tepiltzin looked at the crying child to make sure he was the right one before pointing to the back of the line. “Go to the rear of the line,” he said to the boy.
The junior priest placed his hand on Tepiltzin’s shoulder. “Why did you do that?”
Tepiltzin pretended not to mind as he gestured at the substitute boy to come over to him. The child was calm as he walked over and stood in front of them. “This is the boy I was tasked to find. Go on up child,” he said to the boy.
The junior priest shook his head as he gestured for another priest to come over. “This is highly irregular. This other priest will take over as a guide for the children. You need to go with me to the inner temple area and wait for the high priest there. I need to report this to Eleuia, but only until the ceremony is over.”
“Very well,” Tepiltzin said as he let the second priest take over. As he started to accompany the junior priest to the side of the pyramid, he glanced to the rear of the line and noticed Chipahua taking the real Atl away. His assistant had been able to get to the boy and had placed a cloak over him as they melded back into the crowd. Since there were no shouts of alarm, Tepiltzin concluded the ruse must have been successful. The children’s body count would be the same. All he had to do now was to get away as well.
The junior priest was walking alongside of him as they made it to the side of the temple. “Where is the body of the man who attacked you?”
“Right over there,” Tepiltzin said as he pointed to the nearby alley. As the junior priest started to move past him, he took out his flint knife and plunged it into the back of the Tlaloc acolyte. The junior priest cried out as he tried to twist away. Tepiltzin tried to push the knife in deeper but the moment it hit the other man’s spine, the fragile flint blade snapped in two, leaving most of the pointed part of the dagger in the man’s back. Tepiltzin cursed as he used his weight to bring his victim down. The junior priest kept screaming as he tried to draw his own blade while the two of them thrashed about on the ground.
A World Darkly (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 3) Page 30