“Yes, it’s a problem,” Jix admitted.
“And I have a solution,” said Mikey. “But I need you to distract the king so I can get away.”
“Not now, I’m busy” said Jix. “The king’s vizier has vanished, and I have to find him.”
“Why?” said Mikey. “Vari’s a weasel. If you can’t find him, it’s good riddance. I’d be happy to never see him again.”
“Yes, but weasels are sneaky,” said Jix, “and he’s likely to pop out of the mulberry bush at the worst possible time.”
“Look for him later. Distract the king now,” Mikey said. “I promise you’ll be glad you did.”
And so reluctantly, Jix made his way to the front of the sedan chair.
“Your Excellency,” Jix said. “I need to discuss with you the . . . uh . . . the Inca threat to our southern border.”
“What Inca threat?” asked the king. “Why weren’t we informed of this?”
While behind them, Mikey slipped away.
Ten minutes later, the City of Souls was besieged by a creature standing atop the pyramid, and was rocked by a voice so loud, that it shook the ground.
“YAX K’UK MO’!”
All eyes turned to the pyramid, where a fearsome plumed serpent with searing jade eyes peered down from the pyramid peak.
“YAX K’UK MO’!”
The creature looked very much like the carvings and mosaics of Kukulcan, the single most powerful Mayan god. Of course, it did look a little bit different from the artwork, with few extra eyes in the wrong places—but who could expect human artists to capture the likeness of a god?
The king, who was still being briefed by Jix on the nonexistent Inca threat, rose from his sedan chair, shaking in such terror that all his gold rattled. “We are being summoned by the God of the Elements!”
“YAX K’UK MO’,” the god commanded, “YOU HAVE ANGERED THE GODS, AND HAVE MISTREATED MY MESSENGERS. I SUMMON YOU NOW TO MY PYRAMID. DO NOT KEEP ME WAITING!” And the god breathed out fire for emphasis.
Still trembling, the king left his sedan chair and struggled to climb the steps of the pyramid while his entire kingdom watched.
“We are here, Lord Kukulcan,” said the king as he arrived. “We will do whatever you desire.”
“FIRST OF ALL,” the glorious feathered serpent said, “YOU WILL NO LONGER REFER TO YOURSELF AS ‘WE.’ IT’S ANNOYING. YOU ARE AN ‘I,’ JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.”
“Yes, Lord Kukulcan.”
“AND YOU WILL TREAT MY MESSENGERS FROM THE NORTH WITH RESPECT, AND HEED THE THINGS THEY SAY, OR I SHALL PUT THE MIDDLE-REALM IN WORTHIER HANDS.”
“Yes, Lord Kukulcan.”
Then the god addressed the entire kingdom. “KING YAX K’UK MO’ WILL LEAD YOU INTO BATTLE AGAINST THE EASTERN WITCH, BECAUSE IT WILL PLEASE ME TO SAVE THE LIVING WORLD FROM DESTRUCTION.”
“Yes, Lord Kukulcan,” said King Yax. “Whatever you say, O God of the elements, O God of healing, O God of rebirth, O God of—”
“—ENOUGH OF THAT!” said the serpent. “NOW GO AND DO AS I SAID!” Then the serpent roared and hissed and spun and vanished in a fiery burst of flame.
When the god was gone, everyone turned to the king for direction, but it took all his strength just to get down from the pyramid without falling.
As all eyes were on the king, nobody noticed the boy running down the stone steps at the back of the pyramid, trying to make the last of his feathers go away.
Once properly motivated, the king wasted no time in preparing the journey to battle the Eastern Witch. Fearing that someone would install themselves as king in his absence, he decided to take the entire population with him. He even unstuck the wailers from the city wall. “Where I go, the kingdom goes,” King Yax declared, struggling to use the word “I.”
Since Afterlights can squeeze themselves into any confined space, with virtually no added weight, the king ordered the entire population into the vast infrastructure of the Hindenburg—even those with wings, just in case they decided to fly the coop on the way. He installed the completed statue of himself in the stairwell landing, because it was too big, and too tall, to get any farther into the ship. “All my subjects will see its glory as they come up the gangway stairs,” he proclaimed.