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!

How are you doing this? How can you speak into my mind like this?

Johnny, hello…it’s the xoxal magic! We spent hours earlier today, yesterday, whenever it was, communicating with our souls.

What? Who are you? Why do you keep calling me ‘Johnny’?

The bat landed in front of him and leaned its fox-like snout close to his. I’m your sister Carol, for God’s sake! You’re Johnny, my brother!

No. They told me my name is Chipohyoh. And how can I be the brother of a bat?

I’m not a bat. You’re not a jaguar. We are humans, remember? What did they do to you?

All around them the kamasotzob were attacking the Balamija, obsidian claws sinking into feline flesh. The powerful jaws of the jaguars and pumas managed to crush some of the snatch-bats, but there were too many, and slowly the cats were routed or destroyed. The red puma, seeing Chipohyoh face to face with the enemy, came charging with jaws gaping at the creature that called itself Carol.

Here goes nothing , the voice whispered in the jaguar’s head. The bat wrapped its wings about itself and pulled into a crouch. It closed its eyes and began to tremble and began to change. Its brown fur drew back into its skin, its wings shrunk to two arms, its golden ruff became frizzy brown hair and its snout squeezed down into the features of a human; a young girl.

“Johnny,” she whimpered. “Save me.”

Like an explosion, Johnny’s human soul pulled away from its tonal, his memories restored. He leapt into the air, claws extended, and slammed into the puma before it clamped its jaws around his sister’s head. They rolled in the sand, reaching for each other’s throats, ears pressed back against their heads, snarls rasping their throats. The red puma, older and stronger, flipped Johnny onto his back. Just as its maw descended toward Johnny’s jugular, a snatch-bat swooped down and sliced off its head. Johnny shoved the body away and stood.

Now come on! Carol projected at him. This diversion’s only going to last a little longer, Johnny!

He followed the bat as it winged its way through the sky, turning toward the center of Mictlan and gradually curving back toward the Black Road.

I fell asleep , Johnny tried to explain. Well, they knocked me out. When I woke up, I don’t know…I couldn’t remember who I was. They made me think I was one of them, Carol. I’m sorry.

It’s okay. I found you. We’re safe. That’s all that matters.

He stared up at her gruesome form. But, how? I mean, I get that it’s xoxal or whatever, but how’d you figure it out?

Well, when you rushed off like a big dummy, I tried to bundle up your clothes and mine so I could carry them off. That took too long, and I found myself surrounded by the bats. I took a look at their talons and realized there was one on my necklace. Figuring it would make a good weapon, I grabbed it in my teeth and shifted. And guess what? I shifted into one of them.

Dude. I bet that surprised the crap out of them.

Uh, yeah. After a few minutes, I realized I could communicate with them. It took me a while, but I convinced them that if they really wanted to hurt the…uh…

Balamija?

…yeah, them, that they should wait until they weren’t all together. After I hid our clothes, I helped them track you guys, in wolf form. I figured that eventually you’d be left alone or the Balamija would split up somehow. When you ran off with them toward the Green Road, I saw my opportunity. I got the bats to wait until you guys were so far away from the rest that they couldn’t come running, and then I suggested that we attack. You know the rest.

They were approaching dunes that reached higher and higher, merging into rocky hills and steppes.

I hid our clothes up there, near the edge of the next desert.

The bats let you come here before tracking us?

Well, with an escort. They didn’t totally trust me, but they hate the jaguars and pumas more.

Okay, so this isn’t easy, Johnny said, slipping on some scree. Would it be better if I flew?

Carol circled back and landed beside him. Examining his bracelet, she nodded.

There’s a screech owl feather right there. Put it in your mouth and let the tonal find its new form. Just step away, is all. Nothing to it.

Lifting his foreleg, Johnny used his raspy tongue to pull the feather into his mouth. He felt the eager joy of his tonal and stayed out of its way as it shifted fur into feathers, lightened bones, deleting mass by some unknown magic means. His talons gripped the rock and he spread enormous wings. His transformed eyes, even keener than the jaguar’s, made every detail of the shadowy landscape pop into sharp relief.

Wow. I’m a freaking lechuza!

And with two powerful flaps, he was flying.