Chapter Fourteen

 

Johnny lowered himself to the ash-covered ground and shifted back into his human form. As he did so, he envisioned the black eaglet-down cape morphing into shirt, pants and shoes; the same as before when he’d absorbed it into the skin of his harpy eagle form. His savage magic manipulated the physical properties of the leather and feather garment, and soon he was fully clothed. Picking up the stolen shield, he slipped his arm through the inner strap and slung it over his shoulder.

The legless dragon that settled down beside him gave an annoyed grunt.

“Yeah, I know. I rock, huh?” Carol gestured with her huge, reptilian head. “What? Oh, turn around? Got it.”

He gave her his back and looked around at the emptiness. White ash covered a completely flat plain as far as the eye could see. He noticed the ash had already begun to chalk up the black books he had materialized from the cape.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have chosen black,” his sister said. He turned in time to see her hopping on one foot as she struggled to pull on her shoes.

“Yeah, well, I’m learning as I go along. It’s like, I don’t know, harnessing lightning. The power’s inside us, but we’re pretty clueless about how to use it. Seems like need and desperation are the keys, though.”

“Ah, you were desperately in need of not running around butt-naked through the Underworld,” Carol quipped with a smile.

“Exactly. So, okay, ash. I would say that it doesn’t seem like that big a deal, but, yeah, there’s probably a catch that Big Red forgot to mention. So let’s check. I’ve got the cape and the shield, but I lost my water. You still have yours, right?”

Carol patted the corked clay jug dangling from a belt loop. “Yeah. And the bag of jewels is still in my pocket. Since when are you Mr. let’s-get-organized? I swear, give a boy a little savage magic and he starts acting like he’s in charge.”

“Oh, pardon me, boss. Should we start walking, ma’am?”

Carol rolled her eyes. “Come on, smart-alec.”

As they trudged across the barren landscape, Carol explained in more detail what had transpired on the obsidian pyramid.

“Wow, okay. So human sacrifice. That’s how he got his mojo.”

Carol nodded, swallowing heavily. “Pretty twisted. All those innocent victims.”

“Well, I don’t know, Carol. Didn’t our social studies teacher tell us last year that most of the people who got sacrificed wanted it? Volunteered or whatever?”

The look of disgust on his sister’s face was predictable. She tended to get on a moral high horse about certain subjects, and getting her to see alternative perspectives was pretty hard. “The ones that volunteered were brainwashed by their priests and leaders. And most of the volunteers were captives, taken during the Flower Wars.”

“Right. They were warriors. They figured dying that way was honorable, no?”

“They were dying for a lie, Johnny,” Carol spat back. “The sun would’ve kept shining without their deaths. The universe wouldn’t have come to an end.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ve seen some weird stuff down here that makes me, you know, not want to assume anything anymore.”

She looked at him like he was insane. “They sacrificed children, too. Look, the one thing we know for sure? Human sacrifice generates cehualli. I’ve been attacked by that shadow sorcery, and it’s evil. Ergo, those traditions were wrong.”

“Look, I agree with what you’re saying, basically. I just don’t want you to blame our ancestors or to make them out to be all bad.”

Carol softened a bit. “No, of course not. The Aztecs were a great people. In terms of culture, science and guts, I admire them. Now that I know their gods actually exist, I definitely can’t blame them for doing whatever they could to appease the dark ones. No, I am angry at the gods themselves, Johnny. They’re the bad guys here.”

“So, speaking of dark gods and stuff…Were you tempted? Even a little bit? I mean, in the movies you always see chicks falling for the old, powerful supernatural guys. You know, vampires and stuff.”

“No way. That’s just gross. He’s like two thousand years old, Johnny.” Her expression went thoughtful for a second. “And besides, he wasn’t even cute or anything.”

Johnny laughed. “I hope Tezcatlipoca’s not listening in. All he needs to do is send some hot-looking demon, huh?”

“Shut up. That’s stupid.” She smiled at him as she gave him a little shove. “I’m barely going to be an eighth-grader. I don’t even think about stuff like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

They joked at each other’s expense while they followed the Black Road, barely visible beneath the ash. Soon they were stained to the knees with the white powder. Johnny was reminded of some of the empty lots between their house and Veterans Middle School, where semi-trucks parked sometimes, waiting to load or unload at a nearby warehouse. He’d run through those dusty, barren plots of land several times, trying to avoid a fight with some wannabe gangster. His father didn’t approve of fights. If someone picks on you or makes your life difficult, tell your teachers. Tell the principal. Of course, what Dr. Garza didn’t seem to realize was that the teachers didn’t want to get involved, and the principal was just collecting a paycheck. Some days it seemed there was virtually no discipline. A series of food fights in April had even led to the arrival of a bunch of extra administrators from central office to keep an eye on the kids for a few weeks.

The upshot of the chaotic atmosphere was that Johnny had been forced to defend himself or Carol a couple of times. Not from any really dangerous people, just low-level punks looking to pick on the smart kids. Johnny, who like Carol was tall for his age, had gotten into three or four scrapes in sixth grade, and last fall he’d been in an actual knock-down brawl after school. He’d explained away the occasional bruise to his parents as the result of overly vigorous PE activities, and Carol, though she did not approve of these fights, had said nothing.

Now, of course, Mickey Mouse Maldonado would spend the summer thinking of ways to get back at Johnny for the humiliation of their last encounter. He’s got a surprise coming, Johnny mused with satisfaction. After tangling with a bunch of gods and monsters in the bowels of the Underworld, I’m not all that scared of his macho gangster crap. He envisioned all the bullies he could put in their places with his new abilities, all the innocent kids he could defend. Maybe I can even bring this shield out of Mictlan with me. Be sort of like, I don’t know, the Hispanic Captain America. Or something.

He entertained himself for what felt like hours, daydreaming about all the perks of being a nagual. From time to time Carol would break the silence with a question, but for the most part they didn’t talk. The comfortable habit of shared reflection was an easy one to fall back on, and Johnny’s heart warmed at the memory of many long summer days spent in each other’s company, reading or writing or building stuff with Legos.

Gradually the twins began to perceive clouds of ash puffing skyward along the horizon. Harsh, grinding, almost mechanical sounds reached them across the desolate plain.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a train,” Johnny quipped.

“Probably something bad. Things have been too calm for too long.”

Johnny smiled. An eagerness to face the obstacle rose in him. Danger is addictive. That’s what Dad used to say. Well, he’s right.

“Let’s check it out, then.”

They picked up the pace, and before long they saw it: a monstrous creature with skin like cracked clay through which a red inner fire flickered. Its elongated head was topped by long, thin metal spikes that ran down its nape and along its spine. Humanoid arms and legs were tipped in claws of the same material. As it glimpsed them, the thing opened its mouth wide, and from between iron teeth it belched an enormous cloud of white ash in their direction. The twins stopped in their tracks, but the powdery flakes settled on them like fresh snow.

“Whoa.” Johnny smirked, brushing ash from his lips. “You really showed us, huh? Your scary ash is the last straw. We give up.”

Carol muttered something under her breath. Johnny just ignored her. She wouldn’t know a good joke if it smacked her upside the head.

The monster gave a dark, rumbling laugh. “Oh, delicious irony,” it grated. “Continue. Share more of your sardonic quips, skinwalker.”

“Why? Are you going to sing ‘I’m rubber, you’re glue—whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you’? Wow, the Lord of the Dead really needs to hire some new thugs."

“Interesting you should mention substances that stick to one. You’ve not been a skinwalker long, have you, boy?”

Johnny turned to Carol. “You know what? Screw this talkative demon. Let’s just shift and fly out of range of his stupid voice.”

Not waiting for a reply, Johnny tried to release control to his tonal. But nothing happened. He couldn’t even sense his shadow soul. In its place was…nothing.

“What the…?”

Carol had a look of confusion on her face. “I can’t shift, Johnny.”

“Yeah, neither can I.”

“White ash, you imbeciles,” the clay-skinned creature mocked. “The primary weakness of skinwalkers. You’re both covered in it. You cannot slip your skin. And if something coated in the ash were to pierce your flesh—say, one of my tines—your blood would rush it to your heart, which would stop for all eternity.”

His heart jolting in his chest painfully, Johnny unslung the shield. “Carol, get behind me.”

Chuckling, the demon took several creaking steps forward. Its inner flame blazed brighter through the cracks in its skin. “Ah, miserable knave, do you not understand that iron shatters obsidian? That was the greatest lesson of the Conquest, you runt. Iron. Shatters. Obsidian. Now you will die. Perhaps I may allow your dog of a sister to live so that when she is broken over our Dark Lord’s knee she can weep that her twin succumbed to the smoking hand of Nextepehua, Prince of Ashes!”

And with that, Nextepehua hurled itself at them, iron claws slashing. Johnny spun away, trying to keep his sister behind him. The Prince of Ashes landed a tremendous blow on the shield. The supernatural weapon held, but the impact was too great for Johnny’s twelve-year-old muscles and he went sprawling in the ash. Lifting the shield, he struggled to regain his feet, but Nextepehua rained blow after blow against him, and Johnny soon found himself ground into the ash, wincing at the pressure on his arms and chest as the demon leaned its weight against the shield. Its horrifying face drew closer to his, and it opened wide its maw. Iron teeth gave off glints of orange and red, illuminated redly by the creature’s inner fire.

Johnny fought and twisted and grunted, but there was no getting free. Oh, my God! Xolotl! Someone! Help! I can’t die! I can’t leave Carol to face this by herself! NO!

There was a second of silence as Nextepehua gloated. Then Johnny heard a soft sloshing, a sniffle, and the sound of his sister clearing her throat.

Amazingly, she began to sing.

Allá en la fuente
había un chorrito,
se hacía grandote
se hacía chiquito.
Estaba de mal humor—
pobre chorrito tenía calor.

 

Nextepehua craned his head to look at Carol. Johnny could only make out her right hand: she had uncorked the clay jug of water the Little People had given her.

“Shapeshifting’s not the only magic we’ve got, you freak. Now get off my brother before I go all Dorothy on you.”

The Prince of Ashes spat sparks. “I do not fear you, wench.”

“Yeah, that’s one of the advantages of being a girl. People are always underestimating you.”

Johnny saw her hand go back and forth; and she began to swing the bottle repeatedly. Every splash was like acid on Nextepehua’s skin. Its inner flame guttered. Its skin began to run like mud.

“Father!” Carol shouted, punctuating the first splattering of water. “Son! Holy Ghost! Tonantzin! Quetzalcoatl! Xolotl! Mom! Dad! Johnny! ME!”

With the last drops of the sacred water, the Nextepehua’ s fire went out, and the demon collapsed into a runny pool of wet clay, covering Johnny and the shield. Nasty. Crap, did I just get a piece of wet demon skin in my mouth? He began wriggling himself free. Carol immediately bent and helped him dig his way out.

“That was freaking awesome, Carol!” he said as he pulled free of the demon’s remains with a gross sucking sound. “Now if it had just screamed, ‘I’m melting, I’m melting’, it would’ve been a perfect rescue.”

She shook her head at him. “You’re one crazy boy. You almost died, Moron.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got my magic-song-singing sister at my back, so it’s all good.”

Carol waved his good humor away as she rolled her eyes. “I think it would be smart to get as far away from this ash as we can. We need to wash up. Ew, especially you. You’ve got muddy demon guts all over you.”

“I know. Awe-some,” he joked in a high-pitched voice. “So what’s the next obstacle, do you remember?”

Carol tried brushing some of the ash from her clothes as they started walking.

“Um, heart-eating demons?”

“Whoa. Finally, something that’ll like us for what’s on the inside instead of our incredible good looks.”

He flashed a smile at his sister, and they picked up the pace.