Sky Knife (15 page)

“Itzamna, Lord of All,” said Death Smoke, “you have called and accepted this man Sky Knife to be your priest. For your signs and omens, we give you thanks. May Sky Knife always remain true to you and serve you well.”

“And may your tongue remain as quick,” said Stone Jaguar. Sky Knife glanced at the other man. Stone Jaguar smiled and nodded. “Many young priests are too frightened to say anything at this ceremony.”

“You have done well,” said Death Smoke. “But you would not let fear overtake you, would you? Or you would have let the
chic-chac
drown.”

Stone Jaguar sighed and threw another pinch of
copal
into the fire. “Sky Knife, you are a priest in name only today. You have had no formal training. Death Smoke and I will try to instruct you as well as we can before his death. Then it will be up to you and I to recruit two other priests and make our brotherhood complete.”

“It will be hard,” said Death Smoke. “I do not envy you this task.”

Stone Jaguar grunted. “Speaking of tasks, you are still performing a duty for the king. Have you had any luck?”

Sky Knife looked into the fire, fear crowding his thoughts. “No,” he said.

“Then why do you fear, boy?” asked Death Smoke.

“He is no boy,” said Stone Jaguar. “He is a priest.”

Death Smoke hesitated, then nodded. “Tell us,” he said. His breath hissed out of his mouth. “What do you fear, Sky Knife?”

Sky Knife felt strangled by his doubt, but he didn't know how to say his suspicions out loud.

“Come, Sky Knife,” urged Stone Jaguar. “It has been two days. What have you discovered?”

“Nothing,” whispered Sky Knife. “Except…”

“Yes?” asked Stone Jaguar.

“Storm Cloud cannot see the
chic-chac,
” said Sky Knife, words coming in a rush. “And you said yourself, Stone Jaguar, that the man I'm looking for would not be able to see it. And Storm Cloud is a cousin to Red Spider, who could have brought the bad luck with him for Storm Cloud to use.”

The others were silent. The silence pressed down on Sky Knife until he felt he might scream.

At last, Stone Jaguar spoke. “It's true, the king could not see the serpent. But could that really mean the king is behind this? Perhaps it is because he is a foreigner, and unaware of our sacred animals.”

Death Smoke shook his head. “Surely the king is innocent of this. Why rule a city of bad luck?”

“If Red Spider brought the bad luck with him, he might have also brought something with him that would dispel it,” said Stone Jaguar. “Then, at the proper moment, when we are dead, he can suddenly proclaim that he alone can get rid of the bad luck.”

Death Smoke's eyes sparkled. “Yes,” he said. “I see. Then the king has no high priests around to bother him. He can bring the worship of the Feathered Serpent here and no one will oppose him.”

“But you two are still alive,” said Sky Knife. “And Red Spider
could
see the
chic-chac.
If what you say is true, then as a foreigner, he shouldn't be able to see it.” Sky Knife frowned. He didn't think the love gift vendor had seen the serpent, either.

“Death Smoke's days are numbered,” said Stone Jaguar. “I would not be surprised if mine are as well. Possibly by the king and his cousin Red Spider. In any event, I'm not surprised Red Spider could see the serpent. Teotihuacano merchants are trained in many arcane matters.”

“Take care, Sky Knife,” whispered Death Smoke. “If you prove too clever, your life may be short, too. Very short indeed.”

Sky Knife closed his eyes. This time, not even the warmth of the serpent at his throat could ease his mind. His fear was far stronger, and far, far colder.

15

Stone Jaguar reached over and patted Sky Knife on the shoulder. “Come, Sky Knife,” he said. “You should have your first lesson.”

“You will already know some of it,” said Death Smoke, “considering that you knew so much about Itzamna.”

Stone Jaguar and Death Smoke stood. Sky Knife climbed to his feet as well. Stone Jaguar led them down a narrow passageway and a flight of steep steps. Sky Knife kept his hands out against the walls to steady himself. The steps had been worn down over time by many feet. Their uneven surfaces were treacherous. Sky Knife slowed and fell behind the other two.

At the bottom of the steps was another narrow passageway, this one low enough that all three men had to duck their heads.

Beyond the sound of the men's sandals on the stone floor and the hiss of his own breath, Sky Knife heard another sound. Water, dripping. He shivered. Caves were holy, of course. But the water of such a cave was truly sacred. It was absolutely pure.

Sky Knife had seen bowls of pure water, but never a pool of it in a cave. Excitement ran up his spine and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

More steps. But this time, there were only nine. The ceiling arched overhead. Sky Knife took a deep breath and stood up. Then Death Smoke stood aside and Sky Knife saw what was in the cave. He gasped in awe.

A wide, deep pool of clear water occupied most of the room. Blue balls of light danced around the ceiling, illuminating everything. Sky Knife stepped forward to the edge of the pool. At the very bottom, he saw a gaping black hole—surely an entrance to the underworld. Heart in his throat, Sky Knife stepped back.

“Behold
zuhuy ha,
” said Stone Jaguar loudly. His voice echoed back to Sky Knife over and over. “The Virgin Water in the Navel of the World.”

Navel of the World, Navel of the World
 … The words bounced against Sky Knife's ears painfully.

“We show you this,” continued Stone Jaguar much more quietly, “to remind you of your duty to the gods. And because no one besides the priests of the highest status may know of its existence.”

Sky Knife glanced toward Stone Jaguar, alarmed. The other man smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know. You are not yet of the highest status. But, in all likelihood, you will soon be the sole priest of Itzamna of any rank in Tikal. You must know of the pool.”

“Come,” whispered Death Smoke. He gestured toward a small opening in the eastern wall. Sky Knife followed the old man into a four-sided room with a low ceiling. Death Smoke sat against the south wall. Sky Knife sat at the north. Stone Jaguar took the highest-ranked wall, that of the east.

A ball of blue light followed them into the room and stationed itself against the ceiling.

“You have been taught many things in your years as an attendant,” said Stone Jaguar. “You can reckon the days of the Long Count, and the Calendar Round. You know the nine days of the
Bolon ti ku
and the thirteen days of the
Oxlatun ti ku.
You know the names of the Lords of the Nine Underworlds and the Lords of the Thirteen Heavens.”

“You have attended
p'a chi,
” said Death Smoke. “And held the sacrifices as they were offered to the gods. And today you have made a blood sacrifice of your own.”

Sky Knife's hand went unthinking to his earlobe. It still stung, but not as badly as before.

“You know of Ah Mun, the maize god, and Ix Chebel Yax, the wife of the great Itzamna,” said Death Smoke. He cackled. “I don't need to tell you about Cizin and Ix Tabai. You have already seen them and their work.”

“But there is more to know,” said Stone Jaguar. “Knowledge that only the priests may keep.”

“More than lore,” said Death Smoke, “for there are many who could learn the names of the gods and the ways of the calendar if they wished. But not everyone can take the heart of the sacrifice. Not everyone can call the temple glow, or a ball of flame to light the darkness.”

Stone Jaguar put a hand to his mouth. Sky Knife realized the priest was stifling a laugh. “Not that you need help with light just now, Sky Knife,” said Stone Jaguar, “what with your glowing friend at your throat.”

Death Smoke cast a frown toward Stone Jaguar. “Still, there is no telling how long the
chic-chac
will stay. We must teach him.”

Stone Jaguar nodded. “I didn't say we wouldn't, only that, for the moment, calling light in the darkness is not a problem for Sky Knife.”

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.”