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I swallowed hard. Blinked. Was that the Fire Keeper story in some of the other godborns’ hands?

“Itzamna gave them the second book, too?” I groaned.

“Well,” Ah-Puch said, “you did write it for the godborns, didn’t you?”

“In the event I died!”

“Still a possibility,” he muttered.

My dad shook his head, trying to stay focused on the ceremony.

At the far end, the gods of the council were spread out on an elevated platform against a backdrop of eight-foot-high standing stones called stelae. The stones were carved with the gods’ likenesses,

except with more exaggerated noses and ears.

The Sparkstriker was there, too, with her back to us. She stood on a wooden stool next to a table at center court. Her electric pool of lightning fish shimmered nearby. Had she hauled that thing all the way from the Old World? Her hair looked as ratty as ever—maybe even rattier—with the same tiny bells tied to the ends.

The Sparkstriker’s stone ax was poised high over her head, which told me that she was about to pound lightning into a godborn. My insides dissolved into mush at the memory of my own ceremony. I clenched my hands into fists, trying to hold myself together.

The crowd was hushed as everyone watched the ax come down with a blinding flash of white light.

Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was curiosity, but my legs started moving in her direction. Hurakan pulled me back. “Not yet,” he said. “The dominant power must be located.”

“This is twisted,” Ah-Puch said, tossing more popcorn into his mouth. “And I’m the god of death, darkness, and destruction, so that’s saying a lot!”

The torch flames crackled.

The warm air buzzed with raw energy.

The Sparkstriker stepped off her stool, and that’s when I saw Ixtab and the twins. The goddess’s eyes burned fiery blue as she watched Adrik and Alana shudder on the table. They were both dressed in SHIHOM uniforms: black tees and drawstring pants. Alana’s shades lay at her side.

It was hard to watch their bodies convulse, their skin lit up like there was a fireworks show going on underneath. I knew their pain. Mine had been so awful I floated off to the Empty. But did Adrik and Alana know what was going on around them? Did they know Ixkik’ had gotten her claws on the stone?

A minute later, Adrik and Alana sat up slowly. Adrik rubbed his head, and Alana put her shades back on. The crowd jumped to their feet and cheered.

The Sparkstriker said something to Ixtab, who scowled as she listened intently. Then the goddess turned and walked in the opposite direction without even a nod at her kids. She really was the queen of the cold shoulder.

“Where is she going?” My voice rushed out on a wave of anxiety. “Did she already claim them?”

“If this ceremony was anything like the others,” Ah-Puch said, “the claiming happened before the ax came down on them.” He pounded his fist into his hand to illustrate.

My dad’s dark penetrating eyes never left Ixtab, who had made her way to the opposite side of the court. “It’s time for us to depart.”

I was getting pretty sick of the gods waltzing in and out of scenes like they owned everything and everyone. I mean, they sort of did, but whatever!

“See you tomorrow,” Ah-Puch said with a forced glare. As soon as my dad’s back was turned, he whispered, “I don’t even want to go. The other gods are so boring!”

Then they both vanished in a circle of thick smoke.

When the air cleared, the Sparkstriker was standing right in front of me. I startled, clutching my chest. “You scared me to death!” I squeaked.

“Apparently not,” she said, looking exhausted. “It’s quite wearisome to work on so many. Quite wearisome. And where were you, Storm Runner? I expected you to be present.”

A man’s voice honked over a loudspeaker: “Report to your tree houses immediately. Lights out in fifteen minutes. The gods have graciously granted you a day of rest.” He mumbled, “As if being pounded with lightning is hard. Mm-hmm.”

“Why did you—” I started before the announcements continued.

“Training will begin as soon as the sobrenaturales arrive. In the meantime, no skulking, sneaking, loitering, yelling, complaining, or using any sort of unauthorized powers. I repeat: No using unauthorized powers.”


Tags: J.C. Cervantes, Jennifer Cervantes The Storm Runner Fantasy