When someone tells you you’re the Son of Fire and it’s your dominant power, you sort of want to pump your fist/paw in the air and holler Awesome! So, yeah, I did. Total impulse. Then, “Wait. You said surprising. Why?”
“As the Sparkstriker told you, not all powers of the storm can be passed to you without killing you. I would have predicted wind or rain—something less moody.”
“What do you mean ‘less moody’?” I didn’t know elements had bad days.
“Fire is my least favorite element, the most challenging.” His tail swished through the air.
“Challenging?”
“Not easy to control and highly unpredictable. I don’t like unpredictability.”
“Okay, so fire is my power. Do I, like, throw flames at You-Know-Who? Barbecue the guy? Will that do the trick?”
“First you have to open the gateway in your leg.”
“How?”
“Do you feel it? The pulsing? The energy bound there?”
I focused on my bum leg. Hurakan was right. When I isolated my thoughts to this one part of me, a strange energy pulsed through my entire body. It was amazing!
“Now feed the flame with your life source and…”
“And what?”
“You need a source of heat.” He motioned toward the sun. “Draw on its power.” I was about to ask How the heck do I do that? when he added, “Call it to you.”
I remembered the way I had felt that night at Jack in the Box. How some external force had found its way to me, and my fingers had tingled with some kind of heat. I inched closer to the sea. The waves lapped at my feet. Following my instinct, I drew on the sun and felt heat building in me. Slowly at first, then fast. Too fast. I couldn’t breathe.
Hurakan said, “Let it go.”
I raised a paw, thinking maybe I could shoot fireballs out of it or something. But nothing happened. Except the heat kept rising. I started to panic.
“Relax, Zane,” Hurakan commanded.
“Easy for you to say.” He wasn’t the one being cooked from the inside out.
“You have the power, Zane. The fire answers to you. Feed it with your breath. Yes, like that. Steady, deep breaths.”
Except my breath was smoking right out of my nose! And no way could I relax. I began to hyperventilate. The burning snaked its way through me at unimaginable speed. I started for the water, and with my first panicked stride, I saw that my claws were glowing red. As in iron-forging red.
“Zane!” Hurakan shouted as he blocked my path. “Release it!”
“I need the water!”
“No! If you take the easy way out now, you’ll never learn to control it. Trust me!”
The power was building, heavy and strong, and so hot I thought I was going to combust. Puffs of smoke curled from my nose and mouth. I spun, let out a fierce roar, and slashed a tree trunk with my burning claws. The trunk burst into flames that spread to the leaves and then the next tree and the next.
A second later, a huge wave formed, curling taller than a ten-story building. It crashed down on our heads, and I spun blindly under the water. Just as quickly, it receded. I shook my body like a dog, trying to get dry.
Hurakan sighed. “Maybe a little more focus next time.”
“Focus? It… it was burning me alive!”
“It will destroy you if you don’t release its power. The energy has to have somewhere to go. Do you understand?”
I nodded, still out of breath, and wondered if I ever wanted to call fire to me again. I thought using my power was going to be easy, or at least natural. “If you can’t control it,” I said angrily, “then how am I supposed to be able to?”
“I never said I couldn’t control it. I said fire is very challenging, Zane.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
At the same moment the world began to spin wildly, like I was in a dryer on high.
“Looks like the Sparkstriker’s done,” he said.
“Wait!”
“What?”
“What if I never learn… to control it?”
“It’s your dominant power—it will yield. Eventually. But you really should be friendlier to it.”
I started to ask if I could trade fire for something easier, but I was already flying back.
An instant later, I sat up on Sparkstriker’s table with my nose dripping blood. Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that little side effect of travel to the Empty. I blotted it with my shirt.
“It… it’s fire,” I sputtered.
A slow smile spread across the Sparkstriker’s face. Then a bell in her hair gave a small jingle. She looked over her shoulder at the cave opening. “Blasted hounds of hell!”
“Wha…? Blasted what?”
“No more time,” she said, shooing me out of the cave. My lightning-pounded leg buzzed with incredible strength.
“But you said blasted and hell in the same sentence….That can’t be good. What did you mean?”
“When my bells ring, it tells me someone’s arrived… in the Old World.”
I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer, so I didn’t ask the question.
But she told me anyway. “Ah-Puch is here, Zane. Are you ready?”
37
Who could ever be ready to face and destroy the god of death? I wasn’t, even though I was the Son of Fire and had a tricked-out super cane/spear and a lightning-enhanced leg that made me feel like I could scale tall buildings in a single bound.
Everything went berserk. The bells in the Sparkstriker’s hair started jingling so loud they made my ears ache. Then her eyes rolled back until only the whites were showing, and her skin vibrated and flapped like loose rubber. No wonder her face was so out of whack. Was I supposed to do something? Call 9-1-1 for the supernatural? Give her CPR? Find some superglue?
“You idiot!” That was Nobody. She swooped into the cave and morphed into her human form. I could see now that she was young—maybe Hondo’s age. She had pale freckled skin, shimmering dark eyes, and an upturned mouth that looked like it was on the verge of a sneer. Definitely not a smile.
“I didn’t do anything!” I shouted, hoping the Sparkstriker would come out of her creepy, face-morphing seizure any second.
“Get a bolt!” Nobody commanded.
This time I knew what she was talking about. I hurried to the well and came back with a small piece of lightning. Nobody laid the Sparkstriker on the slab, then took the hammer and pounded the bolt into the Sparkstriker’s chest like some kind of defibrillator. The old woman snapped straight up and took a gasping breath. Her nose had shifted another inch to the right and her mouth was so close to her chin I thought it might slide off her face any second.
“Blasted gods! That was annoying!” Sparkstriker said, hopping onto her stool. “How dare so many descend at the exact same time!” She cursed and pounded her fist into the stone slab.
Nobody began to adjust the Sparkstriker’s nose and mouth as though her face were made of wax. “We’ve got the whole Council of Gods out there,” the Sparkstriker hissed. “And Ixtab…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “She’s hunting for Ah-Puch as we speak.”
Why the heck was the council here? They had to be here to hunt down Ah-Puch—or maybe even me. Hadn’t Jazz said this would be the last place they’d look? The gods were fast.
“No!” My voice erupted in a hot panic. “I have to find him first!”
Nobody rolled her eyes. There was something annoyingly familiar about the way she did it with a toss of her head and a subtle tilt of her chin.
The Sparkstriker’s gaze hardened. “The Storm Runner’s right. Track down Ah-Puch before Ixtab and her hellhounds do. I’m counting on you, Quinn.”
“Quinn?” My heart came to a stuttering stop. “As in Brooks’s sister? As in promised to…” Was it Jordan or Bird?
Quinn’s eyes cut my way angrily. “I’m a warrior huntress of the White Sparkstriker tribe.” She said the words like they were rehearsed. But behind her cold glare, I could
see I’d touched a nerve.
“Enough inconsequential drivel,” the Sparkstriker said. “I’m not about to lose my warriors to the gods’ worthless war. So both of you work together and get this thing done!”
“But Brooks is here!” I blurted. “She’s been looking for you, Quinn! You’re supposed to be—” I was shouting with the panic of someone on a sinking ship.
Quinn held up her hand. “Later. Right now, I’ve got the Stinking One to hunt down. And you? You better get ready, because you’ll only get one shot. And it better be a good one, because none of us are in the mood to die today.”
The Sparkstriker turned on her stool, grabbed me by the shoulders, and shook me once. “One shot, Storm Runner. One thrust with the spear should do it. It now has the power of your blood and fire running through it.”
“One shot… Like in the leg?” I swallowed hard.
“His head or heart would be preferable. And if you fail, I will have no choice but to unleash the gods. Until then my warriors will do their best to lead them away from Ah-Puch’s trail. Do you understand?”
Then, because people don’t usually help for no reason, it occurred to me to ask, “Why are you doing all this for me?”
“I always try to choose the winning side.”
That worked for me. I only hoped she’d made the right choice.
Quinn morphed into her eagle form. “Climb on my back and hold on. It’ll be a long way down if you fall.”
Everything was happening so fast I thought my head might explode, but Quinn was right about one thing. I had a single purpose: to find Pukeface before any of the gods did and waste the guy.
I clung to Quinn’s long, thick feathers as we sailed over the Old World. If it weren’t for the fact that there was a high likelihood my life was about to be shortened, I would’ve thought it was the coolest flight in world history. From up there everything below looked like a miniature cardboard cutout—a game board where everything, even death, is make-believe.
She soared over Puksí’ikal. I saw Hondo and Jazz were still conked-out. But Brooks… she was gone. Ugh! Someone needed to attach a locator chip to her!
“Where’s Brooks?” What if she’d been abducted or something?
“That’s not your quest. Stay focused!”
“She’s your sister!”
“There isn’t time.”
I was about to ask how one tiny detour could hurt when she lifted her head and snarled, “I’ve picked up his scent.”
A few minutes later, we were flying to the outer edges of the Old World, far from the glassy river at its heart. The jungle grew denser the farther we traveled. Every once in a while, Quinn would rotate her head to look around, then dive close to the earth. Each time I thought This is it. But then she’d sail back into the black sky. Up close, the atmosphere looked as thin as crepe paper. A tiny tear ran through its center.
“The sky looks like it’s going to rip open,” I shouted as we flew higher and higher.
“The gods aren’t united,” Quinn said. “The world will collapse if they really do go to war.”
“Don’t they care about this place?”
“Some do, some don’t. Some might even want to see the old ways destroyed.”
“Is that what you want?”
She huffed and said, “None of your business, Zane Obispo. Get your head in the game! Understand? Because either way, Ah-Puch’s going down tonight.”
My cane glowed, and its powerful pulse matched my own. One shot. I had only one shot.
I don’t know why I told her, but the words tumbled out like marbles. “I’ll become his soldier of death unless I’m the one to take him out.” I glanced at my arm, peeled the flower bandage back. The wound was better, and the mark—it was gone! Mostly. There was only a faint white outline of the skull. Had the lightning “ceremony” healed me? Even if it had, I knew I was still linked to Ah-Puch.
Quinn’s whole body stiffened, her wings spread farther, and she slowed for a split second. “And if the gods kill him?”
“He and I are connected, so I’ll die, too.”
She flapped her wings, picking up speed. “Not tonight, Zane Obispo. Not tonight.”
“Quinn?”
“Why are you still talking?”
“If… if something happens to me, promise you’ll find Brooks. Okay?” I couldn’t figure why she would’ve wandered away from camp. Except, she was Brooks.
Quinn didn’t answer, because a black owl with gold eyes came out of nowhere and slammed into her. I lay flat on Quinn as she spun into a nosedive.
Muwan sped through the dark after us, screeching.
Quinn righted herself and flew parallel to the ground. But Muwan was faster. She whizzed past, ripping Quinn’s left wing with her talons. Quinn let out a piercing cry as she tipped too far to the left. I clung even tighter to keep from falling.
“Jump!” Quinn cried.
Was she loca? Ah-Puch’s laughter echoed across the treetops. I jerked my cane/spear free. Muwan zipped overhead, her black wings extended wide, ready to wrap me in their darkness. Quinn was dropping fast. Muwan made a third pass, and this time I knew it was for the kill.
Without thinking, I launched my cane at her chest. “Take that, you mangy…” I couldn’t come up with a proper insult in the moment, so I settled for, “You suck!”
As it sailed through the air, I saw that it really had changed into a spear. It struck the target with perfect accuracy. Muwan released a terrible scream and started tumbling through the air. I watched in horror as she crashed into the bare trees below. They shook on impact, their sharp branches splitting her open.
38
Quinn was in free fall.
We were close to the trees, and I knew the sharp branches would rip us up if she continued at this speed. My eyes darted through the dark. Up ahead, twenty or so yards past the jungle, was a small field, big enough for a safe landing.
“There!” I pointed.
“I can’t make it,” Quinn cried as she plunged nearer to the branches that might as well have been spikes.
“You’re a warrior huntress of the White Sparkstriker Tribe!” I screamed. “And Brooks needs you!”
I could feel her giant eagle muscles struggling, flexing. Down, down, down we went, inches from the trees.
Just a little father. A little farther.
With an earsplitting cry, Quinn redoubled her efforts, but not before we grazed the last tree’s branches and their sharp tips raked her. We crash-tumbled into the field. White stars danced in front of me. Everything went black for a second, then came the pain that shot up my legs. I was on my knees when I scrambled over to her. She was back in human form. “Quinn!”
She groaned and sat up slowly. “You better be worth all this trouble,” she said, flinching and holding her left side. She was breathing too fast.
“You’re bleeding.”
“No kidding, Captain Obvious.”
“What do I do?” I wasn’t exactly trained in nawal first aid.
“Do you mean, will I live? Yeah. I’ll be fine.” She looked down at the slashes on her left arm. “Nawals have super healing powers, so I’m not going to die tonight. But you might, if you don’t find that spear.”
Yeah, why had I thrown my only weapon?
Because I’d had no other choice. Not that Quinn was grateful for it….
My hand tingled with a strange energy, like I’d slept on it for the last ten hours and it was only now prickling to life. I scanned the dense trees, and in the middle of their darkness, I saw a faint blue light glowing like a dimming candle. That had to be the cane! Sparkstriker had loaded it with a Find My Cane app, I guessed.
I stood up to circle back for the spear, and as I did, I saw a figure running toward us in the moonlight. Brooks! With her glowing eyes, ninja-black clothes, and intense expression, she looked like a barefoot warrior.
Quinn groaned. “She’s going to kill me.”
I stepped out of the way. I mean, no need t
o get in the middle of a family squabble. When Brooks reached us, her eyes were on Quinn and Quinn only. She fell to her knees to inspect her sister’s wounds. A second later she declared, “You’ll live.”
Quinn nodded slowly.
“That’s good.” Brooks narrowed her eyes. “It’ll make killing you easier!”
“I should’ve called,” Quinn said. “But I couldn’t. This conflict is so much bigger than you know.”
“I thought you were trapped in Xib’alb’a! How are you here? Why are you here?” Then Brooks’s burning gaze turned to me. “And why are you with my sister?”
“How did you find us?” I asked, deflecting her question with one of my own.
“This. It buzzed all the way here.” She held up the jade.
My mouth fell open. “You… you found it? How?”
“I went back to the boat,” she said, the corners of her mouth almost upturned as she set it in my open hand. “It was wedged between the deck and the seat.”
So that’s where she’d gone. I wrapped her in a huge bear hug.
“Zane, you’re”—she gasped—“smothering me.”
I let her go. “Sorry.”
“Did you take some adrenaline pills or something?” she asked me.
“He got pounded with lightning,” Quinn said. Then she stiffened and her eyes went wide as she spotted something. “We’ve got company.”
A dark shadow rose in front of me. Black, hissing mist with the familiar puke-and-rotten-fish smell that still made me gag. Someone really needed to tell Ah-Puch to take a bath or wear some deodorant. Maybe carry a car freshener in his pocket. Nah, even that wouldn’t help.
“Get out of here,” I told Brooks and Quinn.
“Not a chance,” Brooks said in her signature stubborn tone.
Ah-Puch wasn’t in his nice Hollywood suit this time. Steam rose from his gray body. And like before, I could see worms twisting over his transparent skin, banding together as he rose to his full height. His eyes blazed hot white and he clenched his fists at his sides as his chest heaved. “You’ll pay for Muwan,” he hissed. His eyes found Brooks and Quinn. “You really do need to find better friends, Zane. Why do you insist on hanging out with pathetic creatures so beneath you?”
The Storm Runner Page 29