The Smoking Mirror (8 page)

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Authors: David Bowles

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy, #Maya, #Aztec

BOOK: The Smoking Mirror
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Wow. What was that? It felt like the nicest hug in the universe. Thanks, sis.

His voice was clear and loud and bright in her mind, the utter opposite of their enemy’s quiet black magic. With great happiness she distinguished the vaguely unpleasant feline odor his animal form gave off and heard his labored breathing as he rushed to nuzzle her.

I think we’re about through this first desert,
he thought.
Can you see the glimmerings of light ahead?

Carol’s keen nocturnal eyes pierced the darkness and made out the contours of the mist, swirling against gray light just ahead.
Yeah, I see them. Race you out of this freaking place?

You’re on!

They sped out of the darkness, together.

Chapter Ten

 

They emerged onto a vast expanse of rolling dunes. Johnny slowed and stopped, his pupils dilating painfully even at the muted light from the gray sky above. The dunes were dotted with brown, stunted, thorny shrubs and dead trees. And spread everywhere, in glaring contrast with the dark granite sand, were millions and millions of bones.

Yikes.
He looked over at his sister.
Okay, I’m going behind that big dead tree over there to shift and get dressed.

Good idea.
She loped toward another.

A few minutes later, they stood side by side, staring out at the enormous bone-strewn wilderness. Johnny scratched his head and squinted, trying to make out what lay beyond the horizon.

“So, let’s see,” Carol said. “What was next? Bats and jaguars. Gah.”

Johnny shrugged. “Can’t be all that bad. I mean, we can just bite the bats’ heads off. As for jaguars…I can probably communicate with them or something. Worst case scenario, we just run like mad to the next desert.”
 

“I don’t know. Let’s hope so.” His sister stretched, her joints popping. The transition to human form tended to leave them a little sore. “I just think that the trials are going to keep getting harder. Dad said that they were meant to strip all earthly connections away from the souls of the deceased. I’m pretty sure that means they are
crazy
hard to get past.”

Carol’s negativity could be a little frustrating. “Yeah, but we’re not dead. Plus, we’re
naguales
. Different skill set, don’t you think?”

“Sure, you’re probably right.”

Slapping his hands together like their mom always did before beginning a particularly difficult project, Johnny nodded. “Okay, then, let’s get going.”

They drudged up and down several dunes, sometimes stepping on a femur or a skull despite all efforts to avoid them sometimes slipping from crest to trough in the treacherous sand. They’d been at this for about an hour when a strange whirring and screeching caused them to spin about. The sky behind them had gone black with a mass of flying creatures. As the horde approached, Johnny realized it was made up of gigantic bats, perhaps six feet long in the body and with a wingspan of ten to twelve feet. Their black wings and feet were tipped with nasty, obsidian-like talons. Covered with brown fur, the bats sported a sort of golden ruff around the neck, and their ears were tufted with the same color. Red eyes scanned the ground hungrily, and stiletto-sharp teeth gnashed as vulpine heads twisted back and forth.

“Okay, not your normal bat. But I think we can outrun them.” He started pulling off his t-shirt, but a gasp from Carol made him freeze. Cresting the dunes in front of them were hundreds of snarling jaguars and pumas. A jamboree of that size was pretty much impossible in the real world, Johnny knew. It was probably held together by the enormous black puma that stood alone at the top of the nearest dune. Its size rivaled that of Xolotl, perhaps even dwarfing the hellhound. It tilted its sleek, massive head back and roared. The sound was unbearably beautiful to Johnny. His
tonal
surged within him.

“Crap. Okay.” Johnny reacted quickly, by instinct. “Here’s what we do. I’ll shift and draw the cats away. You make a run for the next desert. When you’re there, start calling me with
xoxal
. I’ll circle back and find you.”

“Wait!” Carol’ cried. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to split up, Johnny. I’m pretty sure that’s what he…”

Ignoring her, his
tonal
eager like never before, Johnny transformed and began to run, leaving his clothes, and Carol, forgotten. Twisting along the troughs between dunes, he gave full rein to his animal side, letting it push itself to extremes of speed and endurance. He reached deep within himself to the place that could hear Carol’s voice and drew on the vast reserves of energy he found waiting for him. With impossible velocity, he made himself an irresistible target for the range of monstrous cats, and they poured through the wilderness after him, growling and hissing in rage.

Carol called to him faintly, twice, but their connection was soon severed by distance. The jamboree gradually spread itself across the dunes, the largest and fastest jaguars and pumas in front, their enormous paws eating up the yards between them and Johnny.

The alpha hurled roars and grunts and hisses at him that Johnny didn’t understand. Slowly, as his
tonal
drew more and more
xoxal
to maintain its incredible speed and the noises coalesced into words.

“You cannot outrun me, young
nagual
!” the black puma was calling. “I am
Acolmiztli
, Lord of the
Balamija
, guardian of Mictlan. No living human has ever wormed his way past me!”

By impulse, Johnny shouted over his shoulder in the feline tongue, “Well, there’s a first time for everything, little kitty!”


What
did you call me?” Acomiztli roared.

“Here, kitty-kitty! Come and get me!” With every fiber of his being, Johnny squeezed as much speed out of his jaguar form as magic permitted. Gouts of sand erupted all around him as he blazed through the low hills.

Then he emerged into a circular clearing, ringed by stunted trees and high dunes. In the middle, a dozen giants stood waiting. As he scrambled to slow down and avoid them, one shifted before his eyes, becoming a massive jaguar. Its right forepaw, the size of Johnny’s entire body, slammed into him, hurling him against a dune.

Dazed, Johnny struggled to stand on legs that had suddenly gone slack. The other giants metamorphosed into equally large jaguars and surrounded him. Within seconds, Acomiztli leapt into the clearing, bellowing in anger. The black puma shook itself savagely and approached, its head low. The gigantic jaguars stepped aside.

Oh, no.

“So you are the mighty
nagual
come to wreak havoc upon us, are you? A puny, meager jaguar. More of an ocelot, if truth be told. It will give great pleasure to add you to the
Balamija…
as a groomer. You will spend the rest of your days picking ticks from the fur of your betters, human.”

“Screw you,” Johnny spat. He searched his memory of animal documentaries for a term this feline would find horribly insulting. “I’ll never bow down to your little glaring of gibs.”

“Gibs, you call us? We shall see.” Acomiztli turned to the shape-shifted giants. “Tukumbalam, Kotzbalam.Hold him down.”

Fear crowded into his mind, sending both his human and animal souls into a tizzy. But his jerking attempts to escape were useless. Two of the huge jaguars used their oversized paws to hold him down. Their leader leaned close.

“Goodbye,
human
.”

He placed his black forepaw on Johnny’s neck and began to press. Slowly the wilderness began to fade to black. As if in a dream, he remembered Xolotl’s words: “You may nonetheless be tempted to eat or sleep. Do
not
.”

Great,
Johnny thought. And then he slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~

 

The young jaguar awakened, confused. Around him he sensed dozens of others, mostly males. It was strange for them to be all together. The young jaguar wanted to bolt.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

A medium-sized black cat—not a puma, but a melanistic jaguar—stood nearby.

“What…where…who?”

“They told me you might not remember anything. That’s okay. I’m Itzocelotl. We just had a scrape with snatch-bats. You took a pretty serious blow to the head.”

“Snatch-bats?”

“Yeah, the
kamasotzob
. Vicious, enormous? Our eternal rivals?”

The young jaguar shook his head. “Start smaller. Who are we? Who am I?”

“We’re the
Balamija
, the feline guardians of the Underworld. We patrol this strip of wilderness, making sure nothing except dead human souls cross. And you? You’re Chipohyoh, groomer for the
nahualocelomeh
.”

Chipohyoh whisked his tail in confusion. Not even his own name stirred any recognition within him. “None of this seems familiar. Who are the
nahualocelomeh
?”

“There’s one over there. See the really big jaguar ordering those pumas around? That’s Tukumbalam. He is one of about twenty, all told. They’re quite old, from the First Age. Were-jaguars, formed by mighty Tezcatlipoca to destroy the arrogant giants that the Feathered Snake had crafted to rule the earth. In fact, they’re basically the first jaguars ever, based on the
tonal
of the Dark Lord himself.”

Chipohyoh had to admit that the gigantic cat did look very powerful and very old. Its hide was crisscrossed with a netting of scars from millennia of battles. “Okay, so I’m their groomer. Like…removing nits and stuff?”

Itzocelotl pulled black lips back in a toothy smile. “Oh, yes.”

“Doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“Oh, you love your job. You brag constantly about the time you get to spend with the Old Ones.”

As Chipohyoh mulled this over, searching for any clue within himself that could contradict a reality that didn’t
fit
, a huge black puma, only a bit smaller than the scarred
nahualocelotl
, padded in regally.

“A new cluster of souls is making its way along the Green Road, victims of unexpected violence in southern Mexico, it seems. Tukumbalam, take your range and converge on them. Harry them until they are near breaking, then return.”

“Of course, Lord. Always a pleasure to strip humanity from naïve, unprepared souls.”

“And Tukumbalam? Take your groomer with you. Perhaps another blow to his head might set him to rights.”

“As you wish. Chipohyoh, to me.”

The young feline hurried to the were-jaguar’s side.

“Itzocelotl, round up the rest. We leave upon my signal.”

As the big cats dashed about, preparing for the sortie, Chipohyoh looked up at his enormous master and then at the retreating haunches of the black puma. “Sir, uh, who was that?”

The
nahualocelotl
looked down at him bemusedly. “That was Acomiztli, Lord of the Balamija. Now, quickly, I’ve a tick burrowing into my chest. Dig it out for me, will you?”

Feeling strangely humiliated, the young jaguar nuzzled the broad stretch of white between Tukumbalam’s forelegs. He found the tick easily, seized it between his teeth and yanked it free.

“Perfect. Now let’s away. Do try and keep up, little one.”

They rounded a dune and found about a dozen jaguars and pumas of various sizes and colors awaiting orders. Tukumbalam roared his signal, and the felines exploded into movement. Chipohyoh ran alongside his master, the brutal pace surprisingly easy to maintain.
If I’m this fast, why am I just a groomer? It doesn’t make any sense.

Their journey seemed interminable, up and over and around dunes, over shattered bones, toward the Green Road (whatever that was). But running with his range gave Chipohyoh an unusual feeling of strength and surety: he was part of something bigger than him, with mighty brothers who would fight at his side. Though he could remember little else, the young jaguar felt that he had been alone for a long time, without a group to belong to. Despite his deep confusion, he was glad, at this moment, to be part of the
Balamija.

Soon the dunes flattened into a plain of scalloped sand through which threaded a host of glowing lights, stretched single-file along the horizon.
Souls,
the young jaguar realized.
Human souls.
He felt an inexplicable pang of regret.

“Brothers!” cried Tukumbalam. “Let’s make them drop their bones!”

The group descended on the souls, snarling and snapping. Chipohyoh saw as he approached the features etched faintly in the glow: men and women and children, fearful and confused. As the aggression of the felines increased, many of them shuddered, and bones fell tumbling.

Stripping their humanity away. They were trying to cling to the memory of who they were, I bet. And these…beasts…

Something inside him twisted. His sense of belonging evaporated like a mirage.

This is wrong.
I’m
wrong.

The young jaguar stood unmoving, staring at the harried travelers, glowing golden under the gloaming sky. From the souls, a shivering moaning filled the air.

“Come on, Chipohyoh. Do you want to be a groomer forever?” It was Itzocelotl, his teeth bared in a knowing grin. “You need to cut your teeth on one of these glow-worms.”

Before he could respond, the young jaguar’s innards resounded with a bright, desperate call:
JOHNNY!

“What the…Did you hear that?”

It’s me, Johnny! Look up!

Unsure of what was going on, Chipohyoh raised his spotted head and saw a hundred or more dark forms streaking toward him through the sky.

“Snatch-bats!” growled a red puma, and hearing him, the group wheeled about to face their rivals. One of the enormous flying creatures spun away from the horde and descended toward Chipohyoh.

Come on! It’s me! The big bat flying right at you is me, moron! Get moving!

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