“Hello, Zane.”
Did that massive beast just talk to me? Okay, I was definitely dreaming. His voice was dark and deep.
“How do you know my name?” Oh good—at least my brain was still human!
He fixed his piercing green eyes on me and lowered his head gracefully. “I’m Hurakan. Some call me Heart of the Sky….”
Heart of the Sky seemed like the name of a nice old man. Or a seventies rock band. Not this panther that looked like it would rip open your throat for gazing at him the wrong way. I took a step back. Whoa! My legs felt powerful, as if they were loaded with tightly coiled springs.
“Did you say Hurakan? You’re… you’re one of the creator gods!”
“You called…?” he said slowly.
“Me? Call you? Uh—I don’t think so.”
“You said the words I’m searching for my dad. That’s what brought you here.”
My mind came to a screeching halt. “Did you say dad?”
“Yes. The jade never mistakes a call.”
“Do you… do you know him?”
“Yes.”
I froze. Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Though I guessed it made sense that Hurakan—one of the two original Maya gods—would know a lot of stuff.
He could reveal the answer I’d been craving for so long. But now I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it. I mean, what if he said something like Your old man is a pus-sucking god of demons?
My heart felt like it was being squeezed. I took a deep breath. “So… who is he?”
Waves rushed to the shore far below. A single bar of moonlight danced on the water’s edge. Hurakan blinked his green eyes, lifted his chin, and held it there like he was waiting to be crowned or something.
I stood taller. “Well?”
“He’s me.”
In that moment, all the breath seemed to leave my body in a rush. It was like a meteor had slammed into my chest and made a crater the size of New Mexico. I’d waited my whole life to meet my dad, find out who he was. I always thought our first meeting would be like a lunch date or a ball game or, I don’t know, a movie?
I shook my head and stepped back. The broken stone was cool beneath my pads. “Prove it,” I said. Yeah, that’s right, Mr. Powerful Beast, I thought. I’m not some gullible human that believes everything supernatural creatures tell him. Not anymore! Even if I was on top of a pyramid in the middle of the jungle, standing on four legs.
Hurakan stood taller and paced the edge of the roof. “Humans,” he muttered, shaking his head. Then, with a deep breath, he said, “It was me on the building, trying to stop you from making that outrageous deal with Ah-Puch. You’re stubborn. Strong-willed.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” I said.
A cool breeze parted the trees.
He inched closer, but I stood my ground.
“Your mom,” he said. “We used to skip stones at the lake.”
“So?”
“She came to the lake yesterday… to find me. She’s the reason I’m here now.”
Okay, so this time I really did stop breathing. So that’s where Mom had disappeared to. But if she knew how to reach him all this time, why had she kept him from me?
Act cool, Zane, I told myself. Act cool. Fine, so Hurakan was my dad. And he was the god of… what was it? I stretched my memory to the pages of my Maya book. Hurricanes? Earthquakes? Or was it bees? Oh please don’t let it be the god of stinking bees.
I thought I heard him laugh under his breath. But when I looked at him, he was in this stupid tightly wound stance that told me he probably never laughed. But that couldn’t be right, because no way would my mom fall in love with some god with zero sense of humor.
“You’re the god of…” I thought I could let him fill in the blank.
“Storms,” he said.
“Is that why Pacific called me Storm Runner?” We had runners at school, kids who ran errands for the adults. “’Cause I’m not about to be your errand boy.”
This time there was no mistaking a light grunt/laugh. He lifted his head toward the sea. A fierce wind ripped across the waters, creating gigantic waves. Palms bent their heads to the ground like loyal servants. But on top of the pyramid, there wasn’t even a hint of a breeze. It was like he could control what the wind touched, and what it destroyed. I guessed that made sense, since, after all, he was a god.
So I was the son of the god of storms. Was that why I sometimes felt heat in my fingertips? Why storms came out of nowhere when I was freaked-out? Thank the saints he wasn’t the god of bees, because being able to create storms is so much cooler!
He kept his eyes on the sea. Was I supposed to say something next? Or was he going to launch into some big speech about how sorry he was that he hadn’t been around? That he’d left me and Mom and never even sent a lousy birthday card?
“The jade I gave you,” he finally said, “is infused with ancient magic. The oldest magic, from before the very first creation.”
Okay, so I wasn’t going to get an I’m-a-dirtbag apology speech.
He continued, “It allows you to travel here… to the Empty.”
“The Empty?”
“This in-between place I created, away from wandering eyes and wicked ears. A replica of the great pyramids of Tulum, Mexico.” he said. “It’s the only safe place we can talk. And because I created it, no other gods have power here.”
I looked around at the sky, the ocean, the jungle, the abandoned pyramids. It was… it was beautiful. About the furthest thing from empty I’d ever seen. Except… at the far edge of the jungle there was a blank space, like the uncolored part of a page in a coloring book. “What’s that?”
“An abyss… until I finish it.”
“Abyss?”
“An empty hole that goes on forever.”
Oh. Well, that settled it. No abyss for me.
I gazed down at my spotted body. “Is there a reason I’m a… a cat?”
He tilted his head to the right and blinked. “You spirit-jumped, and you needed a body to inhabit. And as you can see, there aren’t a lot of those around here. Would you rather be a monkey or a Yucatán jaybird?”
Spirit-jumped. Okay. I’d worry about that later. “Is that why you’re a cat, too?”
“It’s easier to talk to you if we’re in the same form. Since we don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“We have no familiarity, no real emotional connection. If we did, it wouldn’t matter what form we took.”
Yeah, well, that sounded touchy-feely, and I wasn’t about to have that conversation right now.
He must have sensed my discomfort, because he kept talking. “You can travel here when you need to speak to me. Simply say the words or imagine this location,” he said. “But be careful, Zane. Never travel to the Empty unless you’re in a safe place with those you trust. Do you understand?”
“Why?”
“Your body is left behind. You will be vulnerable.”
There was something very unnerving about the idea of being separated from your own body. What was happening to me back at Jazz’s? I wondered. Hadn’t Hondo said something about blood?
In the meantime, I itched to try out my new body. I took a few steps as a jungle cat—I was light on my feet, stealthy, powerful. Amazing didn’t even begin to cover it!
Hurakan treaded so close I could see the golden flecks in the center of his green eyes. “You’re in trouble. You will need help to defeat Ah-Puch,” he said.
Resentment pulsed up my legs and into my heart. Was he for real? Now he wanted to help me? I took a few paces back. A low growl sounded from my throat. “Maybe you should’ve shown up before I let the god of death, darkness, and disaster into the world!”
I had an urge to launch myself down the steps and race through the jungle. I wanted to test these powerful legs and blow off steam, steam that had been building with the discovery of every stupid secret that had kept me in the dark for so long.
“Even I couldn�
�t interrupt your destiny.” He blinked and stalked past me coolly. “Let me help you now.”
“I already have a plan.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m going to use a deadly pepper.” Okay, that sounded even lamer out loud. “And I… I’m going to ask the twins how they defeated Ah-Puch.”
He turned to face me. “They were smart….”
“Yeah, well, so am I.” Why did I feel like I had to prove myself to him? He didn’t even care about me!
Hurakan swiped a paw through the air and snarled. “If you would let me finish,” he said. “Yes, they used their minds and their cunning. But, Zane, they are unlikely to help you.”
“How would you know? Can you see the future?” It was a good plan. They were totally going to be grateful when I told them Ah-Puch was coming for them in LA. And if Hurakan thought he could just waltz into my life and tell me my ideas were stupid, he had another thing coming. I’d show him!
“Ah-Puch lacks your intelligence. I’ve known him for centuries. But he’s learned. He’s adapted. I fear…”
“What?”
“That he’s reached out to the Yant’o Triad.”
“The Yant’o what?”
“A trio of evil—Good, Bad, and Indifferent. But don’t let their names fool you. There isn’t time to talk about that now.”
Trio? As in three? As in one evil god wasn’t enough to take down? “Hang on. How do you know all this?”
“The Bakabs—they’re the four giants that hold up the sky—North, South, East, and West. They once worked for me.” I picked up regret in his voice, and something told me there was a whole story about these giants I wasn’t going to hear that night.
He blinked slowly. “What lies ahead is inconceivable….” His voice trailed off and I knew more words were going unspoken. What was he holding back? I wondered. “You must be prepared. There will be no time for fear. Do you understand me? Time is running out.”
“Why can’t you gods just fight him?” I thought it was a logical question. “I mean, shouldn’t all of you care that he’s loose and ready to destroy the whole world?”
“They’ve seen the world destroyed before, seen it re-created. They have no qualms about starting over.” He let loose a low growl. “And the gods are hungry for a war—the peace has lasted too long.”
“So… will the war take him down?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Some of the gods like what Ixtab has done with the underworld. Others are calling for the old ways, and the old ways include Ah-Puch.”
I paced quickly along the edge of the pyramid. “How the heck am I supposed to beat him when he’s got… what did you call it? The Yant’o Triad? I’m…” I was about to say just some human, some kid from New Mexico when Hurakan hardened his gaze.
His voice was commanding. “You have the blood of a creator.”
I took a moment to let the words sink in. The blood of a creator.
He padded closer. “You are the Storm Runner.”
There was that name again. “That’s what Pacific called me.”
Hurakan nodded slowly. “It’s the name she gave the godborn, the one who would stand at the center of the Prophecy of Fire.”
I liked it. It had a nice ring to it, better than Sir Limps-a-Lot or McGimpster. Man, if only the kids at school could see me now. A jaguar, a godborn. The Storm Runner!
“So does that mean I can control storms, too?” I asked, holding my breath, hoping he’d say yes.
But he didn’t. He blinked, hesitated, then said in a low voice, “It’s more complicated than that.”
“I’ve brought wind before,” I growled, thinking about times when I was scared or angry or…
“No, Zane. You didn’t.”
I was about to argue when he added, “Each of those times, that was me trying to help you without drawing the other gods’ attention. The night you killed the demon runner, I brought the rain to help you get away before reinforcements arrived. They hate water. In LA I was trying to stop you from making the deal with Ah-Puch. And on the day of the eclipse, I whipped up the wind to drown out the sounds of the magic, hoping you wouldn’t hear it calling.” He let out a low growl. “All in vain, I admit.”
First I felt deflated. Then hot anger pulsed in my chest. “Well, sorry I don’t speak storm!”
Hurakan stalked closer and looked down at my right front leg. I followed his gaze. Even in my jaguar form, the mark of death was visible. “You belong to him now,” he said. “Do you see? Your life is tied to his unless you can defeat him yourself first.”
I felt dizzy. “Well, maybe you could show me how to use some storm powers!”
A cool wind swept across the pyramid. Hurakan paced. “The storm is a living force, made up of potent elements. As in lightning, thunder, wind. Fire.” His voice grew deeper, shaking with a power I couldn’t even imagine. “You must become one with it.”
“Why would Pacific call me the Storm Runner if…” My heart plummeted all the way to Xib’alb’a. I felt the words form in my mind and heart, but they didn’t make it to my mouth. It was a terrible irony. Cruel. Twisted. A deep and angry snarl came up. “I can’t run!” There. I’d said the stupid words. Heat coursed through every muscle and I wanted to bolt.
“No, you can’t,” Hurakan said matter-of-factly. “Not in the physical sense.”
Gee, thanks for stating the obvious, I thought. I felt a million kinds of terrible. “Which is officially your fault.”
Hurakan’s tail swished through the air. “We Maya gods have many names. One of mine is Serpent Leg.”
“Are you going to tell me I have a snake for a leg, too?”
The muscles in his broad shoulders twitched. “It does indeed appear that you have inherited my serpent leg.”
“Whoa! I am not part snake.” Crap! Was I going to grow scales?
“It’s not what you think, Zane,” he said, and I could hear the impatience in his voice. I guess he wasn’t used to having to explain himself to humans. “It is a sign of strength, not weakness.”
“But how—?”
“You will learn. For now, you must focus on Ah-Puch. He made the deal with you because you’re a great prize to him,” Hurakan said. “He knows you’re my son, and he’ll use it against you.”
“What did you do to the guy to make him hate you so much?”
“I put him in that prison,” he said. “I created the volcano. It’s likely the reason you felt drawn to it.”
Ah-Puch, my mom, the Sacred Oath, the Beast… He had messed up everything! And now I was the one paying for it.
I backed up slowly, filled with a raw energy that needed to be spent. Without warning, my legs sprang me over the edge of the pyramid, down to the staircase. I took three steps at a time in powerful leaps and sprinted toward the cliff that overlooked the sea. I was fast. Wicked fast. The wind clung to me like we were one, and for a second I imagined remaining a jaguar forever.
Hurakan was right behind me. I came to a screeching halt before flying over the edge. Man, it was such a rush to run like that!
Storm Runner. Why did Pacific give me that name if I couldn’t run? It didn’t make sense!
“Ah-Puch tricked me,” I growled.
“You shouldn’t have made the deal.”
I kept my eyes on the ocean below. “I wasn’t about to let people I love get hurt,” I said with a venom I hoped he felt like a barb.
Hurakan turned his gaze back to the jungle. “You need to get back. And it will be an unpleasant journey. I’m sorry about that.”
“Define ‘unpleasant.’”
“When the spirit has jumped, it’s vulnerable to other forces, dark forces.”
“But I was fine coming here….”
“The journey forward is always easier than the journey back.”
“But…” Even though I was angry at Hurakan, I wasn’t ready to leave. Not the jaguar’s power, not this place. Not yet. “I ha
ve more questions. I just got here!”
“You aren’t meant to stay in this state, Zane. It’s dangerous.”
Dangerous? Was he kidding? Like my whole life wasn’t dangerous now?
His eyes narrowed and he lowered his head, drawing closer. “You want answers? You want to defeat Ah-Puch? Then you must go to the Old World.”
“What’s the Old World?” Heat bloomed in me. I could feel the threads holding me here breaking, separating me from the jaguar’s form.
“A place not marked by time. When you get there, look for Saqik’oxol… the White Sparkstriker. Do you understand?” There was a sudden urgency to Hurakan’s voice.
“Old World, Sparkstriker. Got it.” What the heck was a sparkstriker? I wondered.
“Forget about the twins,” he said.
“How am I supposed to get to this Old World?” I asked, ignoring his advice about the twins. I’d already come all this way to see them. Besides, I wasn’t his puppet. I had my own ideas.
“Let me work on that….And, Zane?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about the blood.”
22
Hurakan was right. The journey back to Venice Beach was the opposite of the journey to the Empty. It was dark and cold, and filled with sharp, invisible whispers:
Weak.
Pathetic.
I tumbled across the red-streaked sky.
Doomed.
Fool.
Through the whispers, I heard Rosie’s soft cry and my heart split in two. Then Ms. Cab: “You’re wasting time.”
There was no net to catch me. I slammed back into my body. It was like belly-flopping into a pool. I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t move or talk or do anything but listen and try to suck air into my lungs.
“Has he stopped bleeding?” That was Brooks.
“Stuff more tissue into his nose,” Hondo said.
“Don’t get any blood on the pillows,” said Jazz. “They’re all the way from Marrakech!”
Thankfully, my body was on a soft bed or couch. As I lay there, I could practically feel my blood coming alive, pulsing through me as though it was only now remembering how to do its job. I held on to the image of Hurakan and the words that were now burned into me like a hot branding iron: blood of a creator. I knew about the creator gods, the ones who had gotten together to make the world… more than once. But if I remembered right, they were also the ones who had destroyed it. And if that was true, then that meant…
The Storm Runner Page 18