"Are you running from someone? Did someone come here? Have you seen any warriors? Are you the girl? Is he trying to steal you back?" Balam took a deep breath. "Kan is looking for a girl. A girl from Cobá." He paused. "Of course, a girl from Cobá." He put his head in his hands. "He is offering a big reward. Jade. People will remember you from the market."
"I saw a snake in the garden," Muluc whispered.
"Kan." Balam said. "He has a powerful way. His warriors say he can even change his form in battle."
Balam picked up a woven sack and threw in some corn kernels, dried peccary, and old tortillas. "We must leave, now," Balam said. "His men will be here soon."
"I want to say goodbye to your mother. And Mol," Muluc said.
Balam shook his head. "We have to go now."
Muluc looked at Macaw's mat, near the grinding stone. Tears filled her eyes. She bent her head and removed the jade pendant that hung from her neck, placing it under the mat.
"So she will remember me," Muluc said. "My name is engraved on it."
"We must go," Balam said.
Hand in hand, Balam and Muluc ran along the jungle trail, past the cenote where they gathered water, until the trail grew narrow, choked by vines and saplings. When Balam stopped to catch his breath, Muluc grabbed on to the trunk of a tree to steady herself.
"Balam," she said. "I must go alone."
"Never," he said.
"Your mother needs you," Muluc said. "And you don't need trouble if we get caught."
Balam didn't speak for a long time, but a tear dripped down his cheek.
"I can't let you go," he finally said.
"I don't want to leave you," Muluc whispered. "But I'm not safe in Chichén. Snake—Kan—thinks he owns me." She touched Balam's cheek. "And you would not be safe in Cobá."
"I know," he said.
Rain began to fall, making music on the leaves high above. Balam and Muluc embraced until the water soaked their clothes; then Muluc continued on the narrow jungle path.
Alone.
Rivers of rain poured from the leaves, and Muluc's wet dress clung to her body. Her legs bled with scratches as she picked her way through the dense growth. She had left the path in case the warriors tried to follow her, but it was getting harder and harder to push through the tangle of vines surrounding her. Leaning against a tree, she stopped to rest, but water streamed down its trunk and over her shoulders, so she stepped away. Because Balam had not packed any tools in the sack, Muluc searched the ground for a sharp stone to help cut a path through the vines. She found two rocks and used one to chip a sharp edge onto the other, as she had seen Balam do.
The sky darkened, and rain continued to fall as Muluc chopped her way through the jungle, blisters burning her hands from working with the rough stone. Thunder thudded overhead, and lightning brightened the ground for just a moment.
"Thank you, Chac, for the rain," Muluc whispered to the sky. "Please help me find Cobá."
Long after night fell, Muluc stumbled through the darkness. Though she feared the spirits that haunted the jungle, she feared the warriors even more. A stream of rainwater washed over her feet as her trail opened into a clearing. Wind whistled through the high trees, almost like singing or crying, and a chill hung in the air. Muluc stopped. Was she hearing the Wailing Woman? She had heard stories about the ancient Wailing Woman who had been spurned by her lover and now wandered the woods, often disguising herself as a beautiful maiden to trick young men. Her cold touch left people unconscious, unable to speak. Or dead.
Muluc crouched against the trunk of a tree, waiting for her heartbeat to slow. Exhaustion caught up with her, and she fell asleep to the wailing of the wind above her.
***
THE DAY 7 CIB
Owl or Vulture, Death Birds of Night or Day
In the morning, the chill of Muluc's damp dress woke her. Her stomach rumbled, but what could she eat? She looked around the clearing and realized she'd fallen asleep in a cornfield. She was in someone's milpa! Muluc found a patch of melons growing among the corn. With her stone tool, she broke open a melon and slurped up the sweet fruit, letting the juice roll down her chin. Next she nibbled on an ear of corn like a mouse. Only when her hunger subsided did she wonder if she had been walking in circles.
A rough-cut path wound away from the milpa, but Muluc looked at the sky to see the position of the sun, and she headed away from the path, toward the rising sun. The trees did not grow so densely here, leaving her exposed in her tattered white dress. Had she wandered back into the outskirts of Chichén? Shaking away the thought, she continued walking, warmed—just a little—by the sunshine on her face.
"I've caught you." A man's voice echoed through the trees.
Muluc spun around.
"You're mine now," the man said.
Muluc crouched behind a low-growing palm.
"All mine," the man said.
A bird squawked. A quetzal—minus his shimmering green tail feathers—landed on a branch a few feet away. Muluc let out her breath, relieved, but then she saw the quetzal hunter walking toward her. She was sitting next to an empty trap! Hunched down, she crawled around the other side of the palm. A spiky frond snagged her hair, and the whole tree shook as she tugged herself free.
"What have we here?" the hunter said, raising one eyebrow. "A bird of another feather."
Muluc stood, heart pounding, and faced the man.
"A runaway." He smiled with brown-stained teeth and ran his hand over the top of his long, braided hair. A quetzal feather stuck out from behind his ear. "Let's see." He tilted his head and looked at Muluc. "You look elite."
"No," Muluc said. "Not in these rags." She opened her palms. "And my hands."
The man tapped his forehead, then pointed to hers.
"Just born that way," she said. "Mama says I should find a good husband with my long forehead." She tried to sound like a child.
"What brings you so far into the jungle, then?"
"I was searching for berries for dye," Muluc said. "Mama is weaving. I lost my way in the storm." Muluc paused as she tried to think of a way to ask about Cobá. "Are we close to..."
The man eyed the embroidery on her dress. "Chichén?"
Muluc's stomach sank.
"Not at all," the hunter said. "You've got quite a walk. If that is truly where you are going."
A flutter of birds rustled in the nearby brush, and the hunter rushed toward the sound.
"Wait here," he called back to her.
Muluc turned and ran, leaping over small bushes, forcing her body through tangles of vines, tripping over rocks. Ignoring the pain, she ran and ran and ran.
Doubled over with a side ache, Muluc clutched her stomach and tried to catch her breath, thudding down on the muddy ground next to a tall tree. Thick jungle completely surrounded her, so that she couldn't even tell where she had just been. No trace. At least the greedy quetzal hunter probably wouldn't bother searching for her. Muluc leaned her head back against the tree.
Above, in the elbow of a branch, she saw a circle of yellow and brown spotted fur. Jaguar! No, this creature was too small to be a jaguar. The cat lifted its head, and Muluc looked into its big round eyes: a little ocelot. Merchants in Cobá kept them as pets to keep mice out of the stored corn. After watching her for a few moments, the ocelot curled up again to sleep.
"Good idea," Muluc said. "I will wander at night like you do."
Muluc put her head on her sack and fell asleep, sunlight warming her like a blanket.
When the ocelot scratched its claws on the tree branch, Muluc woke. Afternoon had faded to early evening; a light breeze fluttered through the darkening jungle like a whisper.
"Thank you, little Balam," she said, watching the ocelot stretch just as Balam did after a long day of work. "You also have a powerful way."
In the darkness, Muluc picked her way through the dense vines, using the rock to cut through some of them. The jungle had come alive with sound—not the friendly, bird-chirping
sounds of daytime, but the sounds of the forgotten gods. A low growl hummed in the trees. Leaves crunched. Muluc's skin prickled with fear.
Do not panic, she told herself.
She stumbled through the trees onto a well-worn path. In the distance, a white glow stood out in the darkness. Was it a clearing awash in moonlight? An abandoned temple? She stepped closer, and the white glow seemed to stretch into the darkness. Straight, smooth, hard white cement. A white road, leading to Cobá!
A rush of air blew over her head in silence. In the moonlight Muluc saw the outline of an owl racing away from her. She screamed and ran back into the jungle to avoid the bird of death. Rough stones on the path cut through her damaged sandals. One shoe fell off. Still Muluc ran, ignoring the pain of sharp rocks cutting into her skin. Then...
Her feet left the ground, and she found herself falling deep into Xibalba, falling into the darkness. Reaching with her arms, she tried to grasp something. Anything. But there was nothing. Resigned, she stiffened her body, waiting for the guardians of the Otherworld to suck her below. But then she splashed into a cenote, sinking deep into the chilly water before fighting her way up to the surface. In the darkness she could hear bats beating their wings with a soft whap-whap.
She treaded water and waited for the Lords of the Otherworld.
***
THE DAY 8 CABAN
Moon Goddess, Crescent Phase
Sun filtered through the small opening of the cenote, and water shadows danced on the walls of the cavern. Thick roots from a ceiba tree above drank from the cenote; Muluc followed the roots with her eyes—they led to the top of the cavern, but not to the opening. Of course there wouldn't be an escape from the Otherworld. As her legs grew tired, Muluc held on to a slimy root to stay afloat. Maybe the Lords of Xibalba waited for people to die before taking them.
Hurting with hunger and shaking with cold, Muluc lost her hold on the root. Water lapped against her chin, but she lacked the strength to keep herself afloat. Her eyes closed briefly, then longer. Snatches of dreams filled her thoughts. Sleep would feel so good. She allowed the water to cover her mouth. But then, just as she was about to succumb to the dark water, the sun shone directly over the cenote, lighting the cavern like a kitchen fire.
Shadows frolicked across the far wall, making shapes. Muluc remembered the child's game she used to play with friends, naming things in clouds, shadows, dust sprinkled across stone steps. With her laughter echoing throughout the cavern, she named things. Butterfly. Bird. Lizard. Crocodile. Cooking pot. What was that dark spot near the water's surface? Muluc blinked her eyes and stared hard at the spot that the sunlight never touched. Could it be a tunnel? The entrance to Xibalba? A surge of lightning raced through her body, and she gripped the vine with new strength.
"I won't let the gods take me," she whispered.
All night she clung to the wet root, shivering in the dark water.
***
CENOTE, QUINTANA ROO, MEXICO
Hi! Spent the night in Nando's Village. Big party for his sister's 15th birthday.
Like a slumber party, except the whole Village stays awake all night, eating, dancing & telling stories and stuff. In the a.m. we rappelled down into a cenote and swam in a cave.
Nando brought a flashlight and showed us all the formations.
Amazing!!! The Yucatán is connected by a whole series of underground rivers.
Ooops. I'm sounding like my dad.
Love Ya, Kat
P.S. See you soon.
***
I sat in a lounge chair by the pool, writing one last postcard to Fiona, but I wasn't sure that I'd send it. I kind of wanted to keep the photograph of the cenote in my travel journal. The ones I'd sketched didn't capture the magic of Nando's cool, quiet cenote. Maybe I would take that drawing class for my art elective next year, even if Fiona's Five all signed up for dance again. I reached for my sunscreen so I could put on a little extra, just to make sure. But then I didn't bother. Even if I had missed a spot, everyone needs a little vitamin D, right?
I tucked the postcard into my journal next to a rough sketch of Nando's sister dancing with her friends; they'd been so happy twirling around in their simple cotton dresses and bare feet. No one ranked anyone's Fashion Sensibility a 2.3 like my friends did. Mini-camp had already ended, but the private jokes would continue for months. Dumb stuff, really. Nothing as good as Muluc's story. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my face.
Poor Muluc—stuck in that cold, dark cenote. She ran away to escape Snake, but she also protected Balam by making him stay behind. Fiona would beg me to escort her through the jungle and wouldn't even care if they sacrificed me once we got there—like she didn't care about making my short self go to basketball tryouts with her. Talk about oh-so humiliating! Spending time with Nando had made me think about what I wanted from friendship. He did like me, even though we came from different backgrounds and disagreed about so many things. And as much as I hated it at first, now I kind of liked the way he challenged me to think for myself, improve myself. He wanted me to be the best I could be, and maybe all friendships should be like that.
Barb swam to the edge of the pool and splashed me.
"Stop that, you pest!"
Barb pouted. "I can't believe Nando is making us wait for the end of the story. That's so mean."
"I told you he was mean," I said. "Think of poor Muluc. Hungry. Tired. Freezing cold. Nando is cruel."
"He is not."
"I know." I closed my eyes again. I can't believe I'm actually going to miss the guy! I opened one eye when Barb shouted out to Tanya.
"I brought us some drinks." Tanya handed Barb a frothy strawberry drink. "Two umbrellas."
"Yummy!" Barb sucked down practically half the drink. "And now I have exactly twenty-two umbrellas in my collection."
Tanya held up a virgin piña colada. "I brought one for you too."
"Uh, thanks."
I sipped the drink, worrying about poison for only a nanosecond. Old habit.
"So, Kat. About—" Tanya wrapped her blue-blond hair around her hand. "Can I?" She motioned to the empty lounge chair next to mine.
"Sure." I stopped myself from saying something snotty like "it's a free country." After some of Nando's stories about guerrilla uprisings, I wasn't sure it was such a free country.
"So ... I'm sorry for—" Tanya blushed as pink as Barb's daiquiri.
"That's okay." No. Stop. "I mean. Thanks for apologizing."
"I'm not usually ... It's just that things have really sucked with my parents, and moving, and trying to make new friends. And then I saw you, with a little sister who adores you and heaps of friends back home, and you seem so popular, and you're so cute."
I nearly choked on my piña colada. "What?"
"Come on. Josh totally has a crush on you. And Nando treats you like some kind of Mayan goddess or something."
"We're just friends." I pressed the icy cup against my cheeks. "And I'm so not popular."
"But you have so many friends." Tanya leaned close, gathering her hair over her shoulder, and whispered, "You didn't dye your hair blue to try to look ultra-fashionable."
"No." I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I cut it short because Fiona said we should all have 'oh-so' the same hairstyle. And I bought this shirt because Fiona said I should. And—" I explained the whole mini-camp situation and how Fiona chose her five best friends.
Tanya's eyes grew wide. "That's so not like you—all independent, kayaking by yourself, climbing pyramids illegally, jumping into cenotes, being all artistic with your sketchbook all the time."
I smiled at those memories. "Um, I kind of did all that stuff because I was afraid."
Tanya wrinkled her forehead, then laughed and kept laughing. At first I felt kind of insulted, but then it did seem funny, and I started laughing too.
"That doesn't make any sense." Tanya gasped for breath.
"I know!" I kept laughing, thinking that I hadn't laughed l
ike this with Fiona in such a long time. Maybe never.
Over a second round of drinks, Tanya and I exchanged stories of stupid things we'd done for so-called "friends."
Barb swam over. "Are you guys ready now? Tanya, I've got to tell you what happens next."
"Guess I better—" Tanya sucked down the rest of her colada. "Thanks for the talk."
"You too," I said. "And thanks for putting up with Barb."
"Oh, you're so lucky. She's adorable!" Tanya slid into the water next to Barb. "Okay, so what happens next? She's at that Snake guy's house."
"Ooh! Ooh! The next part is so good—" They swam to the middle of the pool.
As I sipped my coconut drink, I thought about how Muluc had to travel far from home to realize what she wanted. What did I want now? I opened my journal to make a new list: "What I Want. Number 1: real friends who care about me as much as I care about them. Number 2: to be liked just for being me." I wasn't going to compete in Fiona's ongoing popularity contest anymore.
I guess my jungle crossing had changed me too.
The next morning, Tanya and I had to snag Barb by the back of her T-shirt to keep her from jumping off the bus to meet Nando by the side of the road. Nando climbed the steps extra slowly, fighting a smile.
"I think we should wait to finish the story. Maybe next time you visit Mexico."
The look of utter terror on Barb's face made us all laugh.
Nando sat next to me while Tanya and Barb leaned over the back of their seat. "So where did I leave Muluc?"
"In a cold, cold cenote!" Barb shrieked. "She might die."
"Come on, we've all watched enough American television to know that she's going live," I said, glancing at Nando, who smiled back at me and continued the story.
***
THE DAY 9 ETZNAB
War God, Obsidian Sacrificial Blade
The next morning, butterflies played in the ferns growing at the opening of the cenote.
Muluc watched the colorful wings flapping: tiny, fluttering souls. Were they here to help her? Give her courage? She looked toward the tunnel, loosened her grip on the vine, and let herself sink into the water. Moving her stiff limbs, stretching, she swam to the tunnel. Uttering a short prayer, she decided to brave Xibalba rather than die waiting.
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