The Smoking Mirror

by David Bowles

  They can see into me , she realized. They know my weaknesses.

  “Lastly, the Lords of the Green Quarter, sickly sweet and source of rot: Chalmécatl, Chalmecacíhuatl, and Nexoxocho.”

  The trio that appeared next were rotting corpses whose moldy flesh was covered by moss, toadstools, and strange lichens. Bright, poisonous flowers encircled their foreheads and their bodies teemed with beetles, worms and flies. Snakes wriggled out of their mouths and into their eye sockets as they took up spots at the far right end of the dais.

  Okay, now even I am grossed out. Johnny winked at her.

  “Now, prostrate yourselves, humans, before the Chief of this Council, Speaker of the Ajalob, High Lord Kisin.”

  A very tall and very thin man strode slowly from the darkness. His dark skin clung tightly to his skull, and his lank black hair spilled down his back. He was dressed in what appeared to be elegant Spanish clothing from the 16th century: a white silk shirt, black velvet doublet and breeches, and blood-red leather boots and jerkin that Carol suddenly suspected were made of human skin. As Kisin lowered his dark brown eyes upon the twins, Carol slumped face-first onto the floor, her arms outstretched. Beside her, Johnny did the same.

  That jerk used magic to make me go all prostrate! Son of a…

  Stop, Johnny. Let him have his fun. Remember what we’re here for. We need to get past them and get Mom.

  “Twins. Once more.” Kisin’s voice was smooth and rich, but also cold and haughty. The voice of a sociopath. “How I tire of twins. Nonetheless. As living beings you have trespassed in both Mictlan and its capital city, Xibalba. You have thereby violated the natural order established by the Dark One and your own feathered worm. You have further ignored edicts handed down by the Lord and Lady of Death by traveling the Black Road and using force against its guardians. Have you aught to say in your defense, urchins?”

  Johnny pushed himself up, regarding High Lord Kisin with anger and disgust. “If being alive in Mictlan is a violation of the natural order, then Tezcat did it first. He brought our mom to this stupid place. And I’m pretty sure he wanted us to come looking for her. So, yeah, this is jacked up. Stop pretending like you freaks have justice down here, and let’s move on to the sentencing, ‘kay?”

  Though Carol was frightened out of her wits, she felt a surge of pride in her brother. She wanted to applaud or hug him. Kisin’s power, of course, held her firmly in place.

  The High Lord grimaced and gestured dismissively. Johnny’s face slammed against the cold stone floor with a crunching thud. “Very well. Juan Ángel and Carolina Garza, the Ajalob declare you guilty to your hypocritical cores. You are sentenced to die upon the Great Temple of Tezcatlipoca at the end of two more watches: sixteen of your living hours. Once your young hearts have been ripped from your chests, we will feast on them. Then your shades will wend their fleshless way to annihilation at the center of Mictlan.”

  Two guards seized them by the shoulders and yanked them to their feet.

  “In the interim, you are remanded to the cuauhcalli to await the ceremony that will end your meaningless lives.” Kisin turned his back on them and faded into the darkness. The other lords stood as one and floated backward into the shadows as well.

  ~~~

  The cuauhcualli was a sort of stone dungeon beneath the Mitnal. Carol sat on the cold floor of their cell, scrubbing at the ash with her hands, trying to dust enough of it off to access her tonal. She believed that the Little People hadn’t lied and that somehow the jade could protect them from being sacrificed, but she didn’t want to depend solely on that. It would be really good if we could shift and fly the heck out of here.

  Johnny simply leaned back against the rough wall, tapping out a beat against his stolen shield with his fingers and humming some of that weird techno music he loved so much. His dark hair spiked out in all directions, and the ash on his skin made him appear almost ghost-like. The black clothes he’d formed from Huitzilopochtli’s cape had turned nearly gray with the dust. I must look just as bad. Gah. I really need a bath. Don’t suppose they have water around here, though. She thought about the nasty rivers they’d crossed and gave a little shudder.

  A clanging sound broke the relative silence, and their dog-headed guard peered at them through the bronze bars of the cell door. “You’ve a visitor, maggots. And she’s a goddess, so keep your distance and know your place.”

  The door swung open at his touch and a short, dark woman swept into the cell. She wore a red cotton skirt and huipil, a sleeveless blouse, both items decorated with black crescent moons. The hem of her skirt was spattered with mud and what smelled like excrement, a mixture that smeared her bare feet and calves as well. Her long, black hair was swept back in a braid and atop her head sat a strange conical hat with white cotton tassels. Under expressive brown eyes, her broad nose was pierced by a crescent moon shaped ornament fashioned of bone. A triangle of black spread its way across her mouth to end under her chin. In her right hand, she carried a rustic, ancient broom.

  “Whoa,” Johnny muttered, “an Aztec witch.”

  The goddess leaned forward, sniffing at him. “Ah, the smell of early puberty. You will have need of me later in life, little man. You will discover both sides of my nature. But to respond, no, I am not one of your European witches. The broom is for sweeping away filth, disease, and sadness and the hat is a gift from my beautiful Huasteca people, crafted nearly three millennia ago. I am Ixcuinan, the Paradox, Queen of Sin and Forgiveness.”

  Carol nodded. She recognized their visitor now. She had read about her in one of her father’s books. “They also call you Tlazolteotl, don’t they? Goddess of the life cycle.”

  Ixcuinan reached out her hand and patted Carol on the cheek. A warm, sisterly feeling spread throughout her soul. “Indeed. I embody living movement, from the moment of your birth to the final confession you make before death, and all the earnest attempts at happiness in between. I urge you toward sin, but only so far. Just enough to know its taste. Then I devour it for you, allowing you to cleanly pass Beyond.”

  “Ah, that explains the chapopote on your chin.” Johnny didn’t seem impressed by the presence of the goddess. Typical guy.

  “Yes,” Ixcuinan replied, unperturbed. “One day, if your soul chooses this route upon your death, your sin will stain my mouth as well, Juan Ángel Garza. I suspect you will be less dismissive then. In any event, I have not come to sing my own praises. I am here to offer you aid.”

  Carol’s eyes widened. “Why would you help us?”

  Ixcuinan’s free hand went to her dangling silver earrings, making them jingle musically. “There are many residents of Xibalba who resent Tezcatlipoca’s heavy-handed usurpation of Mictlan. It is true he established this place here at the root of the World Tree, but its governance was placed in the hands of Lord and Lady Death. His interference runs counter to the natural order. I understand how frightening we must seem to you, but for thousands of years there was a discernible, noble purpose to our existence. As balance incarnate, I am disgusted by the Dark One’s goal of universal destruction. He would like nothing better than for you two to be trapped in Xibalba, driven to despair by your inability to save your mother. Then would you either misuse your xoxal, splitting the World Tree and freeing the Tzitzimime to wreak havoc on the cosmos, or surrender that savage magic unto Tezcatlipoca’s hand, thereby ensuring the same end. No, you must leave this city, and quickly, too. We are few, those who dare flout his authority, but powerful. Gods of vice and excess, for the most part, like the Ahuiateteo, who would be nothing should humans cease to exist.”

  Johnny smirked. “Great. Our new allies are the drunken junkie gods.”

  Ixcuinan laughed warmly. “Oh, I believe they will enjoy that label. Clever boy. Do not discount our abilities, however. We will come for you soon and escort you to the next level of your journey. Till then, rest unburdened.”

  She swept her broom in an arc that passed over both their hearts. Instantly, Carol felt refreshed and e
nergized, as if a great weight had been lifted from her soul. Before she could speak her thanks the door swung open and the guard spoke brusquely. “Lady Ixcuinan, your pardon, but your time with the humans is at an end.”

  The goddess smiled, her teeth gleaming white against the stain of sin. For a moment, her features blurred and an older, wizened face seemed to shine from behind her flesh. Then she spun about, her braid whistling through the air, and hurried from the cell.

  ~~~

  Several hours later, rescue had still not come. Johnny raised his eyebrows pointedly, nodding at the cell door.

  “Uh, looks like the drunken junkie gods are too high to save us. Figures.”

  Carol sighed. “I’m sure they just got delayed or something.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe the Ish-Queen was doing Tezcat’s will, faking us out, making us freak even more.”

  Carol didn’t want to believe that, but when the cell doors opened to reveal the city guard, waiting to escort them to their deaths, she collapsed inwardly. I guess I thought I saw something in her that wasn’t there. The Virgin. Tonantzin. Some spirit of sisterhood that could make her my ally.

  From their cells the twins were led along a narrow tunnel that angled upward till it ended right at the temple’s base. Thousands of were-creatures, demons and monsters thronged about the ziggurat, and as Carol and Johnny emerged, a roar of excitement went up that set the very ground to trembling.

  “Hey, cool.” Johnny smiled and winked. “We’re famous. All the demons are cheering us.”

  “They’re excited to see us sacrificed, Johnny.”

  “Yeah, but that’s something, no?” He laughed and turned to the guards. “Famous, notorious…all the same, huh, guys?”

  “Shut up and climb the stairs, human,” the captain growled, wresting the shield from Johnny’s grasp.

  “Sheesh!” Her brother’s hands shot into the air in an exaggerated gesture of exasperation. “I’m going, dude. Hello. My adoring fans await. Got to give them a heart-felt performance, no? All my Xibalban rivals will just eat their hearts out, seriously.”

  Carol rolled her eyes and groaned. Is this really the time for your cheesy jokes? They’re going to kill us!

  We won’t die. You even said it—the Little People have our backs. I’m guessing the Lords of Nasty are going to yank out the pieces of jade.

  Yeah, well, I’ve been thinking about that. Aren’t they going to notice that those aren’t our hearts? Won’t they just, I don’t know, reach back in and remove the real ones?

  I think we just have to have faith, Carol. There’s really nothing else we can do. If Quetzalcoatl or God or whoever wants us to get Mom and defeat Tezcat, they’re going to have to step up and protect us. I’m done worrying.

  The guards prodded them roughly, and Carol began to climb. The steps were steep and slick, but thankfully the pyramid’s sides were slanted at a relatively comfortable angle. Nonetheless, after finishing the first set of steps, standing on a broad stone landing upon which the second level of the ziggurat had been built, her leg muscles burned fiercely. By the time they’d reached the third such landing, Carol was out of breath, red-faced, and sweating like mad.

  Panting, Johnny gasped sarcastically, “Good workout, huh? Got to recommend it to my jock friends. Oh, wait. I hate jocks. Now I’m really recommending it. Especially for the prize they get when they reach the top.”

  A guard shoved him toward the last flight of steps. Carol followed quickly, not wanting any more prodding from those painful clubs. She kept her eyes down, focusing on her aching feet, postponing the need to look up at the temple proper. Finally, though, she reached the top and had to take in the tableau. The cube-shaped temple sported a large obsidian mirror which faced her. Immediately in front of it was a huge stone receptacle in the shape of a jaguar, its back hollowed out to receive, she imagined, the hearts of sacrificial victims. Between that basin and the twins rose the altar, a massive slab of granite, mottled with stains that were certainly old blood.

  “Whew! Two hundred and sixty freaking steps!” Johnny stretched, his joints popping. “I see you’ve got my bed ready. Perfect. I am super tired.”

  Arranged on either side of the temple were the Ajalob; the red and green lords to Carol’s left, the black and white to her right. From within the temple, High Lord Kisin emerged. He now wore a black robe that reached his bare feet. His face was painted black, and a black powder that smelled to Carol’s heightened senses like crushed scorpions and spiders had been rubbed into his forearms and neck. In his left hand he twirled a deadly looking obsidian blade.

  “Indeed.” His gaunt face spread in a wicked smile. “Then do climb right up, living boy, and rest a while.”

  Johnny shrugged, but Carol could hear his heart pounding as he approached the slab and pulled himself onto it. Immediately, a lord from each of the four quadrants of Xibalba moved forward and took hold of an arm or leg, immobilizing her brother. Kisin moved toward him, brandishing the blade. He began chanting in some dark, ancient tongue. A shadowy force gathered in the air like a silent oblivion, and smoke began to pour from the mirror, curling its way along the top of the pyramid, twisting around the altar’s base.

  “O, Tezcatlipoca, Lord of the Near and the Nigh, Night Wind, Enemy of Both Sides. Receive this life that we end for you, and may such a death herald many more, until a darkness pervades the living world and Mictlan erupts upon the Earth.”

  Carol felt her brother’s thin courage falter as the knife blurred upward in the high lord’s hand.

  “Wait!” he cried, and his soul struck out wildly, despairing.

  Carol could bear no more. Mustering all of her energy, she opened her mouth to sing, intending to send notes of pure teotl pounding against Kisin. The first quavering note had barely left her lips, when he shook his head and pointed his free hand at her, closing his fingers together in a gesture of silence.

  “Enough of your twittering, little bird.”

  She found herself frozen in place, unable to move or speak as the black blade sliced through the air.

  Don’t look. Johnny’s last thought flitted through her heart, but she couldn’t avert her eyes. Kisin cut open her brother’s chest, hacking through his shirt, and with a deft movement he plunged his hand inside and drew forth a pulsating red mass. He lifted it high into the air and was immediately rewarded by the raucous cheers of thousands of monsters in the streets below. Then, with a fiendish flourish the high lord tossed the heart into the hollow in the back of the stone jaguar.

  The four lords released Johnny’s limbs as he went limp. Kisin motioned to the guards. “Send this filth rolling down the steps. Let the Ahuiateteo and their ilk feast on his flesh.”

  The guards seized Johnny’s body roughly and prepared to flip him over the edge. The Captain of the Guard, however, interrupted them. “Here. Set him on his shield and let’s watch him rush at them willy-nilly.”

  Carol wanted to scream but her throat was locked. The undead soldiers dropped Johnny’s unmoving form into the curve of the stolen shield and sent him rocketing down the steps of the ziggurat.

  Kisin crooked his fingers at her, and against her will Carol moved toward the slab. With jerky movements, she climbed atop it and lay down, her brother’s blood warm and sticky beneath her back. The four lords wrapped dead hands around her ankles and wrists as Kisin intoned his ancient chant. Sinking deeper into herself, Carol tried not to listen, tried not to see. The knife arced up through the gray sky, and she fled from consciousness before it could fall.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emerging from a deep pool of nothing, Johnny felt water soak him from head to feet. Someone was drenching him.

  Then he felt the pain. Sharp. Deep. Aching. His chest felt like someone had reached a hand in and…Oh, yeah.

  “Wake up, little man. You must transform to heal yourself.”

  Johnny groaned. He just wanted to lie where he was, maybe sink back into oblivion away from the agony.

  “You are ex
tremely close to death, Juan Ángel. Shift. Now.”

  He felt something stir within him, excited and unbridled at last. His tonal, free from the effects of white ash. Almost whining with a will to burst free from human form, it nudged at Johnny spiritually, urging him to step aside and cede control.

  Johnny was happy to oblige.

  With a powerful bound, the jaguar leapt to all fours, Huitzilopochtli’s cape merging with its fur, crowding the black spots more densely. Johnny peered through its eyes at Ixcuinan, who was turning toward a body lying twisted and broken upon…

  Wait. What’s this stuff? We’re on a huge pile of human bones! The uneven surface shifted beneath his paws as he moved closer to the goddess of filth and cleansing. The body she was kneeling beside came into focus.

  It was Carol.

  Johnny made a muffled sound somewhere between a cry and agonized wail and Ixcuinan reached back to caress his head gently between the ears. Her touch soothed him to the root of his tail. The goddess shifted her attention back to his sister, upending a large clay jar filled with clean water and washed the blood and ash away from Carol’s face, neck and arms.

  “Carolina,” she muttered. “Come back to yourself. You must transform. You are badly injured, nearly dead. Find your tonal, daughter mine. Let it shape your broken flesh, heal your hurts.”

  She continued coaxing until Carol’s body jerked and heaved, the wolf pushing its way through the girl and then freeing itself from her clothes.

  Thank God, she thought at him weakly. You’re alive.

  Just barely. If it hadn’t been for our friendly neighborhood witch here…I guess you were right, Sis.

  Ixcuinan stood, regarding them both. “I cannot hear your communication, but I can imagine you wonder why I delayed in rescuing you. The truth is that this was always the plan and we could not risk revealing the details. Once High Lord Kisin removed your false hearts and sent your bodies tumbling down the pyramid, the Ahuiateteo spirited you away to this place, where the bones of the devoured are laid to rest and, for a time, the Ajalob will believe that we feast on your flesh. But when they take up the red jade for their own ugly nourishment, they will learn the truth. So we must hurry. There is no gate barring your way out of Xibalba. The Black Road runs unimpeded right across the border. There is nothing deeper in Mictlan we need to keep out.”