“But no one fights a war without an army,” I added. “And they already failed at raising the Mexica gods.”
“There are other types of war, Zane. Wars that bring about worse things than dying.”
“You…you think they’ve found a way to beat the Maya gods?”
Frowning, she said, “This is a game of war, and no one is better at that than the Maya gods. We will not be defeated.”
Game?
“And whatever our enemies are after, it isn’t going to be obvious. It is going to be cunning, shrewd, and so unexpected it will have your head spinning. Remember that.”
Blood Moon’s last words to me on that day at the Pyramid of the Magician rushed into my already panicky brain: Someday, when you least expect it, you’ll pay with your blood for this. My sons will show no mercy. Nor will I.
That didn’t sound like a game to me—more like a real live threat. I knew Ixkik’ would try to make good on her promise, which made me want to throw up in the nearest trash can.
“Go home,” Ixtab said. “Get ready for SHIHOM tomorrow.” Her eyes glazed over like she was somewhere else, then they flicked back to me. “And, Zane?”
“Yeah?”
“Do not mention any of this conversation to anyone. No one is to know you were here. I have eyes everywhere and will know if even a syllable is breathed. Do you understand?”
I hesitated, wondering why everything always had to be a secret where Ixtab was concerned. But then I realized I wouldn’t leave here with my head unless I gave my word. “I promise.”
I was glad to get out of the underworld alive and grateful that Ixtab hadn’t taken me back to Blood River for our private chat.
But as I headed home in the driverless Mercedes, all I kept thinking was what Ixtab’s words had really meant: Get ready for the games.
By the time I got home, I was fuming. Like literally, my head was smoking worse than a tortilla burning on the comal.
If the gods thought they were going to make me (or any godborn) a pawn again, they had another think coming. I was tired of being played and used. Tired of being given morsels of madness that added up to nada. And even though Ixtab never said that the godborns would be used in this twisted war games scheme, she didn’t have to. I knew we had a role—I just didn’t know what it was yet.
That day, I couldn’t help but watch Adrik and Alana closely, looking for similarities to the goddess of death or a clue as to their godborn gifts. It was pretty mind-blowing to think about all their possible powers. Like maybe one glance and—bam!—instant death for their victim. Or one fist bump and—pow!—total mind control. I mean, their mom is the queen of manipulation.
Whenever they’d catch me staring, Adrik would give me what’s-your-deal-stalker? looks while Alana hid behind her shades, smirking. Then they would start talking telepathically, which was super annoying and only reminded me of their mom and all her secrets.
They liked my mom, though. She gave them some light blue MAYA JOURNEYS tees from our isla tour business, since Adrik and Alana had arrived with only the clothes on their backs (Brooks had previously left a few of her things at my house for future use). But when Mom offered to wash their jeans, Adrik said, “No thanks,” like a grizzly bear guarding the last of his food.
Right. He had something in the pocket he wasn’t about to let go of.
Unfortunately, my over-the-top-generous mom also gave them a copy of my first book, the one the gods had forced me to write as a cautionary tale for anyone who might defy them.
When I asked my mom why, she just said, “They deserve the whole story, Zane. How can they make buenas choices without it?”
Ugh! I should totally burn all the truth paper in existence!
“Besides,” she added, “you’re such a good writer. I’ve read the story at least ten times. I really like that part about me driving like a pro stunt driver.” She smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Do you really think so?”
I laughed. “Heck yeah, Mom.”
“And Brooks?”
I stiffened. “What about her?” My face felt like it had been tossed into boiling water. Where was a rock when you really needed one to crawl under?
“Does she know how you feel?”
“Geesh, Mom…It’s not like—”
“I know exactly what it’s like,” she said, grinning all goofy like. “And if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”