Sky Knife

by Marella Sands

  Sky Knife fidgeted, uncomfortable at being in the center of a squabble between the other two men. The serpent moved its head slightly, as if it knew it were being discussed. Sky Knife stroked its warm scales and the serpent settled down around his neck once again.

  “Sky Knife,” said Stone Jaguar. “Lie down on the floor underneath the ball of light.”

  Sky Knife scooted to the middle of the floor and lay down, head facing east.

  “Good,” said Stone Jaguar. “Now, clear your mind. When you feel you have emptied yourself of all thoughts and desires, reach your hand toward the light.”

  Sky Knife took a deep breath and let all thoughts drift away from him. The world shrank away until it was only him and the light. He reached toward it and touched it with outstretched hands.

  The light was warm. And it tickled. Sky Knife shivered and concentrated on the light. Only the light.

  “Good,” said Stone Jaguar. The sound of the other priest’s voice startled Sky Knife and he yelped.

  Death Smoke laughed. “He succeeded the first time. Why didn’t we make him a priest long ago?”

  “Because, you old fool, we had enough candidates without sifting through all the attendants, too.”

  “Who’s the fool, then? You’re the one who’s supposed to keep an eye open for talent and luck. You were just unhappy that Vine Torch discovered a child of omens before you had a chance to.”

  Sky Knife closed his eyes and shut out the sounds of the bickering priests. He concentrated on the warm tickle on his palms. It seemed to penetrate right through to his bones. Slowly, it seeped up his arms. The serpent at his throat grew warmer, too. But the heat from the ball and the serpent wasn’t like the sun; it didn’t burn, it didn’t make Sky Knife sweat. It felt good, like happiness. Or health.

  Suddenly, it was gone. Sky Knife’s eyes snapped open. The room was dark.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Wait,” said Stone Jaguar. “I know it’s a temptation to lose yourself in the light. We’ve all tried it at one time or another. Just remember—you must always leave a bit of your soul tied to your body in order to make it back. Take a rope braided from the inner bark of the ceiba tree and tie it around your right wrist before you try such a trick again.”

  “Since you were so successful at touching the light, why don’t you try calling it?” said Death Smoke.

  “How?” asked Sky Knife.

  “Raise your hands,” said Stone Jaguar, “and remember the feeling of the light as it touched you. Imagine that feeling back again.”

  Sky Knife closed his eyes and raised his hands. He concentrated on the memory of the holy light that had touched him. The way it had tickled, and soaked into his bones.

  “It’s hard the first few times, and you might not succeed today. But don’t be discouraged; sorcery takes a while to learn,” said Death Smoke.

  Light blazed from Sky Knife’s hands and illuminated the room with blinding whiteness. He blinked at the brightness.

  “Apparently not,” said Stone Jaguar. “Don’t think on it quite so hard, Sky Knife.” Stone Jaguar chuckled.

  Sky Knife relaxed and the light died down a bit, though it was still terribly bright. He felt weak, but triumphant.

  “An excellent first lesson,” said Stone Jaguar. “But I’m sure you’re tired now—the strength you use to call the light comes from your own soul. But calling the light will not take so much energy in the future, now that you know how to do it.”

  “You can call light to see with, as you just did,” said Death Smoke. “Or you can concentrate on a small point and think of a great heat, and you can call up a fire as well.”

  “The way you light the cigars at the sacrifice?” asked Sky Knife.

  “Yes, of course,” said Stone Jaguar.

  “Sit up and return to your place,” said Death Smoke. “The weakness will pass, but you will need to eat. I will get you some water.”

  The older man got up and left the room. Sky Knife raised himself to his elbows, then rolled over and pushed himself to his knees. His elbows and knees trembled. He crawled back to the wall.

  Death Smoke returned in a few moments with a wooden bowl filled with water.

  “It is from the sacred pool,” said Death Smoke. “It will refresh you.”

  Sky Knife took the bowl and stared into it. The water seemed no different from ordinary water, but he didn’t want to touch it. Drinking it would contaminate the water; take the holiness away.

  “All of us have tasted the water at some time or other,” said Death Smoke. “It is another test of a priest. Drink.”

  Somehow, knowing this was a test made it easier. Sky Knife gulped down the water. It was cold and wonderful. He drained the bowl.

  Death Smoke took the bowl back to his place by the southern wall. “There is just one more thing for today,” he said. “Something you must remember always.”

  “Yes?” asked Sky Knife.

  “These things we teach you are secret. Not just from those who are not priests, but from all others. I would sooner tell the secrets of the priesthood to a Tikal peasant in his milpa than someone from another city.”

  “Why? What about their priests? Don’t they worship the same gods? What about the priests of Uaxactun or Copan?” asked Sky Knife. “Are they not also Mayan, and sorcerers?”

  “But they have their own magic,” said Death Smoke. “Every city has its own priests and its own magic. Each is unique.”

  “Beware any foreign magic,” said Stone Jaguar. “Or anything foreign, for that matter. Trust only in the magic and traditions of Tikal. Everything else is heresy.”

  “Heresy,” hissed Death Smoke. The sound sent a shiver up Sky Knife’s spine, and he felt cold despite the warmth from the light he had made.

  “We must return to the city,” said Stone Jaguar. “And let Sky Knife continue with his duty to the king.”

  Death Smoke nodded. “Another thing to beware,” he said. “Step carefully, Sky Knife. Very carefully.”

  Sky Knife swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. He got up and left the room, bowed once to the zuhuy ha, and made his way up the steps.

  The light of the sun outside was a shock after the sorcerous light of the passageways and cave. It seemed to press down on Sky Knife’s shoulders and weigh down his eyelids.

  “There he is!” shouted a deeply accented voice. Sky Knife shaded his eyes with his hands and searched the plaza for the source of the shout.

  Nine Dog, the fat merchant of Monte Alban, stood at the bottom of the steps to the northern acropolis. He pointed to Sky Knife.

  “There he is,” Nine Dog said again. He drew a flint knife. “And he’s mine.”

  16

  “What do you want?” asked Sky Knife. He stood on the patio, four steps above the plaza, and waited. Nine Dog made no move to mount the steps.

  “Come down here,” said Nine Dog. Sweat dripped off his flabby face. “You’re the one responsible!”

  “Responsible for what?” asked Sky Knife.

  “For having me imprisoned for no reason,” shouted Nine Dog. “For my being taunted all day by rude guards. For my attendants fleeing me as soon as we were released. Now who will take my goods back home?”

  The love-gift vendor walked over. “Bah, your attendants will come back,” she said. “Where do they have to go besides home?”

  “They were from Uaxactun,” muttered Nine Dog. “They’ll get home easily enough.”

  “This is just a boy,” said the love-gift vendor. “He couldn’t be responsible for everything you say.”

  “Get out of my sight, old woman,” shouted Nine Dog. He shoved the love-gift vendor aside. She fell to the stones of the plaza and lay still.

  “No!” shouted Sky Knife. He leaped down the stairs and ran to the old woman’s side. He touched her shoulder and she moaned. Blood seeped out of a scrape on her head.

  Something struck Sky Knife on the shoulder. For a moment, he thought Nine Dog had slapped
him, then pain raced from his shoulder down into his arm and chest. Blood ran down his arm. The chic-chac squeezed his neck tightly.

  Sky Knife jerked away and retreated a few steps. He turned to face Nine Dog. The merchant stood over the love-gift vendor, flint knife raised above his head. Blood dripped from its dark tip.

  “I’m going to kill you, boy,” said Nine Dog. He rushed forward toward Sky Knife. Sky Knife ducked under the knife and stumbled up the steps to the northern acropolis. Around him, objects swam in his vision and seemed indistinct. Once on the patio, he dropped to his knees.

  The fire in his shoulder wrapped around his chest, constricting his breathing. Sky Knife gasped for air.

  “Stop!” ordered a deep voice. Sky Knife looked around for the source, but everything seemed dark and hazy.

  Something struck Sky Knife across the face and he fell to the patio. He screamed as his injured shoulder slammed into the pavement stones.

  “Get away,” shouted Nine Dog. “I am in the right here.”

  “This is not Monte Alban,” said the deep voice. “And nowhere is it seemly for a merchant to attack a priest.”

  “Priest?” spat Nine Dog. “He’s a temple attendant. I asked.”

  “He is a priest, and he carries the authority of the king,” said the deep voice. Sky Knife’s confused mind refused to put a name to it. “Leave now or I shall kill you.”

  “This isn’t over,” said Nine Dog.

  “Yes, it is. If you are not out of the city by sunset, I will kill you anyway for disrupting the king’s representative as he went about the king’s business.”

  The sound of footsteps retreating reached Sky Knife’s ears. He struggled to sit, but a hand held him down.

  “Easy, my friend,” said the deep voice. “It’s Bone Splinter. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you.”

  “The old woman…” whispered Sky Knife.

  “She is all right,” said Bone Splinter. “She will go back to her rabbits now, I’m sure. It’s you I’m worried about.” Bone Splinter put an arm under Sky Knife’s shoulders and the other under his knees.

  The world jerked and spun as Bone Splinter picked him up. Sky Knife screwed his eyes shut and rode the pain. It demanded so much of his attention, and he was so tired. So tired. He let himself slide down into the darkness.

  * * *

  As awareness seeped back into his mind, Sky Knife tensed against expected pain. But the pain had faded to a dull ache. He opened his eyes.

  Bone Splinter sat beside him, eyes closed. Sky Knife lifted his head a bit and looked around the room. The room was large and brightly painted in orange, red, and blue. A scene of an assemblage of the gods dominated the walls. Sky Knife recognized Itzamna, Ah Mun, Ix Chel, and Ek Chueh right away though not all the deities depicted were equally as familiar. He pushed himself up on his elbow to get a better look. A red hot pain lanced down his arm and he gasped.

  Bone Splinter’s eyes snapped open. He put a hand under Sky Knife’s neck and eased him back to the floor. “You’ve only slept a short time,” said the warrior. “But you shouldn’t get up yet.”

  Sky Knife closed his eyes against a sudden pounding in his skull. The chic-chac moved slightly, its tongue brushing lightly against Sky Knife’s skin. For some reason, he felt better for that.

  Sky Knife’s stomach growled and tightened. “Can I have some food?” he asked. “Death Smoke said I should eat something after I left the acropolis. But then Nine Dog…”

  “Food is being brought,” said Bone Splinter. He paused and fidgeted. “What happened to you?” the warrior finally asked.

  “I was attacked,” said Sky Knife. “You were there. At least, I think I remember you being there.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” said Bone Splinter. “You were hurt yesterday by the jaguar, but you walked to the House of the Warriors. Today you were not injured as badly and you passed out immediately.”

  “I…” began Sky Knife. He stopped, wondering how much of what had transpired in the northern acropolis he could relate. “I had a lesson in sorcery,” he said at last. “I was weak. Death Smoke and Stone Jaguar warned me I would be. But what about you—aren’t you going to war?”

  “The king has decided to cancel the war,” said Bone Splinter, “and he ordered the release of the prisoners. Kan Flower wasn’t happy about that.” The warrior sighed. “I knew Nine Dog would be looking for you, so I sought you out. But he found you first.”

  Bone Splinter fell silent. Sky Knife relaxed and the pounding in his head receded a bit. He let his thoughts drift and his awareness of the world faded slightly.

  “How is he doing?” asked a female voice. Sky Knife jerked to wakefulness and his eyes snapped open. Turtle Nest stepped up to the doorway, the hem of her purple dress swirling about her ankles.

  “I am fine,” said Sky Knife before Bone Splinter could reply. His heart pounded against his ribs and his headache returned full-force. Sky Knife winced.

  “Perhaps we define ‘fine’ in different ways,” said Turtle Nest. She came in and sat down next to Sky Knife opposite Bone Splinter. “You still seem to be in pain.”

  Sky Knife said nothing. Turtle Nest reached across his chest and pressed her fingers to his shoulder. Sky Knife gritted his teeth at the pain, but made no sound.

  “You’re lucky,” said Turtle Nest, “and not only because of the serpent. There was a poison on the blade that struck you, slow-acting enough that it wouldn’t have killed you for hours. I and my nuns, with the help of Ix Chel, managed to defeat the poison.”

  “Filthy merchant,” said Bone Splinter softly.

  “Then why did he follow me onto the patio?” asked Sky Knife. Itzamna! None of this made any sense.

  “What?” asked Turtle Nest.

  “If the blade were poisoned, why pursue me after stabbing me?” asked Sky Knife. “He already knew I’d die a slow death.”

  “The wise assassin never puts his trust in a bit of poison,” said Bone Splinter. “He probably wanted to make sure of you.”

  “I suppose,” said Sky Knife. He sighed.

  Footsteps approached. “Here is the food I promised,” said Turtle Nest. “Help him sit, Bone Splinter.”

  Sky Knife allowed Bone Splinter to pull him up. He pulled his legs up inside the skirt and sat cross-legged. He looked up. His heart froze in his chest a moment, then started beating wildly. Jade Flute stood in the doorway, a wooden tray piled with meat, cornbread, and fruit in her hands. She smiled at Sky Knife.

  “Come, girl, the man needs to eat,” said Turtle Nest. Jade Flute’s gaze dropped demurely to the floor. She knelt and placed the tray in front of Sky Knife. He grabbed a hunk of cornbread and bit into it. The bread was still hot. Sky Knife ate it greedily.

  Sky Knife was glad of Bone Splinter’s presence. He was uncomfortable with the two women, who sat silently and watched him eat. All of the food tasted wonderful, especially the fruit. It was sweet and perfectly ripe.

  Sky Knife ate until his stomach ached. He sighed.

  “So,” said Turtle Nest. “Have you discovered anything?”

  Sky Knife shook his head. He wouldn’t air his suspicions of the king again, especially not with Bone Splinter in the room. Bone Splinter was duty-bound to protect the king no matter what. Sky Knife did not want Bone Splinter to be his enemy.

  Itzamna—he didn’t want the king for an enemy either! Sky Knife’s stomach rolled unpleasantly as doubt assailed him. He suspected, but he didn’t know. How could he know for certain?

  “The chic-chac has not been able to help you?” asked Turtle Nest in the ensuing silence. She frowned.

  “I was told not to put my trust in a serpent, even a rainbow serpent,” said Sky Knife.

  “Told? By whom?” demanded Turtle Nest. “Stone Jaguar? Surely he’s not as much a fool as that.”

  Sky Knife shook his head.

  “It was the woman who lives in the jungle,” said Bone Splinter. “She said serpents can see clearly, but won’t see the s
ame things a man sees.”

  “Or a woman,” said Jade Flute. She tossed her head. Her silky black hair flew around her head and settled over her shoulders heavily. Sky Knife stared at her. She wore the same purple dress he had seen her in the other night. Sky Knife tried not to let his gaze fall below her collarbones.

  Jade Flute smiled at him and shifted slightly so that her dress gapped open and showed even more of her than before. Sky Knife blushed and looked away.

  “Girl, have you no shame?” asked Turtle Nest, though her voice was more tired than angry. “What shall I do with you?”

  “Nothing,” said Jade Flute. “I’ll decide what’s to be done with me.”

  “Entice the wrong young man and you’ll be meeting an adulteress’s death in the courtyard,” said Turtle Nest.

  Jade Flute pouted, but her gaze remained on Sky Knife. He stared at the tray in front of him studiously.

  “That old woman was mindless before I was born,” said Turtle Nest. “She knows nothing.”

  “She knew of the chic-chac before she saw me,” said Sky Knife. “She said she knew Jaguar Paw.”

  “She probably did,” said Turtle Nest. “No one remembers when she was born.”

  Bone Splinter touched Sky Knife on the knee. “Do you feel well enough to leave?”

  Sky Knife nodded. Well or not, he wanted out of this place. Somehow, his thoughts always seemed muddled around Jade Flute. He wanted to think. About the king. About Red Spider. About Nine Dog.

  And about how he was going to tell Bone Splinter his fears.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Bone Splinter nodded and grabbed Sky Knife by the elbow. Sky Knife let Bone Splinter pull him to his feet. His headache had faded and his shoulder only throbbed. He sighed in relief.

  Turtle Nest and Jade Flute stood also. Sky Knife bowed slightly to Turtle Nest. “Thank you for the healing, and for the food,” he said.

  Turtle Nest smiled. “I and my nuns stand ready to serve you and the king,” she said. “Only let us know how we can help.”

  Sky Knife nodded. Jade Flute stepped closer to him, but he stumbled toward the door.