Chapter Sixteen

 

Emerging from a deep pool of nothing, Johnny felt water soak him from head to feet. Someone was drenching him.

Then he felt the pain. Sharp. Deep. Aching. His chest felt like someone had reached a hand in and…Oh, yeah.

“Wake up, little man. You must transform to heal yourself.”

Johnny groaned. He just wanted to lie where he was, maybe sink back into oblivion away from the agony.

“You are extremely close to death, Juan Ángel. Shift. Now.”

He felt something stir within him, excited and unbridled at last. His tonal, free from the effects of white ash. Almost whining with a will to burst free from human form, it nudged at Johnny spiritually, urging him to step aside and cede control.

Johnny was happy to oblige.

With a powerful bound, the jaguar leapt to all fours, Huitzilopochtli’s cape merging with its fur, crowding the black spots more densely. Johnny peered through its eyes at Ixcuinan, who was turning toward a body lying twisted and broken upon…

Wait. What’s this stuff? We’re on a huge pile of human bones! The uneven surface shifted beneath his paws as he moved closer to the goddess of filth and cleansing. The body she was kneeling beside came into focus.

It was Carol.

Johnny made a muffled sound somewhere between a cry and agonized wail and Ixcuinan reached back to caress his head gently between the ears. Her touch soothed him to the root of his tail. The goddess shifted her attention back to his sister, upending a large clay jar filled with clean water and washed the blood and ash away from Carol’s face, neck and arms.

“Carolina,” she muttered. “Come back to yourself. You must transform. You are badly injured, nearly dead. Find your tonal, daughter mine. Let it shape your broken flesh, heal your hurts.”

She continued coaxing until Carol’s body jerked and heaved, the wolf pushing its way through the girl and then freeing itself from her clothes.

Thank God, she thought at him weakly. You’re alive.

Just barely. If it hadn’t been for our friendly neighborhood witch here…I guess you were right, Sis.

Ixcuinan stood, regarding them both. “I cannot hear your communication, but I can imagine you wonder why I delayed in rescuing you. The truth is that this was always the plan and we could not risk revealing the details. Once High Lord Kisin removed your false hearts and sent your bodies tumbling down the pyramid, the Ahuiateteo spirited you away to this place, where the bones of the devoured are laid to rest and, for a time, the Ajalob will believe that we feast on your flesh. But when they take up the red jade for their own ugly nourishment, they will learn the truth. So we must hurry. There is no gate barring your way out of Xibalba. The Black Road runs unimpeded right across the border. There is nothing deeper in Mictlan we need to keep out.”

Without another word, she turned and began to make her way across the mountain of bone. Johnny bent his head to his amulet and bit lightly on the screech owl feather. In seconds he was scooping up his shield and Carol’s clothes.

Good thinking . Carol wagged her tail briefly then set off after Ixcuinan. Johnny followed closely, his wings catching the noxious breeze that blew out of the city gates. As they made their way down the gentle slope of the ossified hill, Johnny relived the final moments before High Lord Kisin had slit him open. Though he had struggled to keep his cool, to stand up to the Ajalob as he had to many school bullies, in the end he had wanted to bolt and run. When that knife had begun its descent, he had felt for a moment the desire to agree to anything, to abandon this crazy quest, to help the dark forces tear down the foundations of the universe itself in order not to feel Kisin’s hand reach inside him and wrench at his vital organs.

But I survived it. Both of us did. We faced one of the crappiest, scariest things anybody ever has, and we’re okay.

The realization emboldened him. Two more obstacles, and then we face ol’ Tezcat himself, he thought at Carol. I think we’re going do it.

Yeah, how much worse can it get?

Right?

Ixcuinan and Carol reached the bottom, and Johnny landed beside them, shifting back into his human form and dressing himself with Huitzilopochtli’s cape. He was perfectly healed, with just the faintest line of a scar across his diaphragm.

“You might want to switch to girl mode,” he said, but the wolf shook her head. “Okay, suit yourself.” He slung his shield over his shoulder and scooped up his sister’s clothing and shoes, double-checking for the jewels.

Ixcuinan motioned for them to keep moving. They crossed a glittering plain of feldspar and finally reached the Black Road, which seemed to disappear a short distance away at the horizon.  

“What did Xolotl say was next?” Johnny mused aloud.

Ixcuinan gave him a strange glance. “The hound assisted you?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you get the memo? The Feathered Dude has got our back. Well, except for back there just now.”

“Oh, Xolotl could have never passed the gates of Xibalba. Not without an army, and that is not Quetzalcoatl’s way.”

“That’s what everybody keeps telling us.” Johnny tried not to sound like a pouting child. “Anyway, he said that next we’re going to face obsidian winds and a putrid lake. Doesn’t sound too bad. But then, there were a bunch of things he failed to mention about the other deserts, so…Yeah.”

Ixcuinan nodded. “He has indeed neglected to mention several complicating factors. For example, the air above Apanhuiayo makes flight…”

A sound like wind sweeping over loose gravel made them all spin around. A narrow swath of grass was weaving its way across the feldspar toward them, growing at a dizzying speed, tendrils reaching closer and closer. Across the path ran two figures, moving so fast they were almost a blur. The grass reached the edge of the Black Road and quickly twined upward into the air, forming a humanoid shape that stepped free of the verdant trail and faced Ixcuinan. The other two figures joined the humanoid. One was a tall, thin creature with black fur and the features of a hare, and the other looked like a were-lizard.

“The Swamp Thing, Frank from Donnie Darko and the Lizard from Spider-Man,” he couldn’t help but blurting out. “You guys have got to be the drunken junkie gods, right?”

The rabbit-like god grinned. “To be sure, I am presently more sober than I would prefer, but we are indeed three of the Ahuiateteo.” Turning to Ixcuinan, he dropped the smile and spoke more softly. “The Ajalob have discovered our deceit. They are furious. Our other brothers engaged them so we could warn you, but they cannot hold them long.”

Ixcuinan gripped her broom tightly. “How soon?”

The grassy creature hissed. “They are on the Black Road, less than one thousand cuahuitls distant.”

The reptilian god flicked its tongue at the air. “We will need all four of you, Lady.”

Before Johnny could ask what that meant, Ixcuinan touched his shoulder and pointed her broom at the horizon.

“Juan Ángel, Carolina, you need to run as fast as you can to the edge of Xibalba. Neither the Ajalob nor the city guard can follow you into Itzeecayan, Land of the Cold Razor Winds. We will hold them off until you reach its border. Remember, Mictlan was not always a place of evil. I wish you success. Now go.”

She hunched over, muttering mystically, then she suddenly stood, slamming the butt of her broomstick against the surface of the Black Road, once, then twice. Four women now stood in her place: a girl the same age as the twins, a young woman, a middle-aged matriarch, and an old, wizened crone. They glanced at the twins and screamed in unison.

“GO!”

Carol exploded into motion, her lupine form darting toward the horizon. Johnny bent his head and followed as fast as he could. When he found that he couldn’t keep up, he half-shifted into a were-jaguar and quickly made up the distance between them. From behind him came sounds of battle: explosions, clanging weapons, cries of anger and pain.

The border’s just ahead , Carol’s voice muttered in his mind. The Black Road narrows, and there’s like a low wall on either side of an archway. No gate, like she said. Just a little toll booth or something on the left.

They made a final dash for the exit. Two sentries rushed from the guardhouse onto the road, obsidian-tipped spears at the ready, ember eyes narrowing above their ragged nostrils. Carol leapt onto one, snarling as she tumbled him senseless to the ground. Johnny snapped the other’s spear easily, clawing at his zombie face before passing under the arch and down a slope into the next desert.

He was first greeted by the sound of howling, shuddering winds that whipped across a stony plain, then by the blades. It was a small one first, shaving its way past his shoulder, taking a hunk of fur with it.

Johnny took a step back. “What the…?”

Then came larger shards, one of which slammed into his thigh before he pulled the shield off his shoulder, to crouch behind it for protection.

Carol, get behind me! These freaking winds are blowing razor-sharp hunks of rock everywhere!

He immediately felt her hot breath on his back as she took refuge. Any ideas?

Well, the Little People probably gave us something to deal with this, no? He looked down at his amulet. One of the two bits of animal matter that he hadn’t tried was a thin, hollow tooth.

Crocodile , he realized, relying on his animal senses. Thick skin. That’s the answer.

He let Carol know. She had also found something, a sickle-shaped claw that she believed belonged to a giant armadillo.

Awesome. We’ll be slow, but we’ll be armored.

After helping his sister arrange her clothes in a sling across her back, Johnny grabbed the tooth and shifted. It was an odd feeling, moving with short powerful legs that slung his belly so close to the rocky soil, and the reptilian instincts he had access to were very different from those of mammals and birds. But he was close to the ground, where the constant gale was less intense and fewer obsidian razors reached. With an awkward, deliberate gait, he began moving along the wind-eroded road. Carol followed close behind.

I don’t know about you, he thought after a while, but once through this whack place is enough for me. When I die, I’m going Beyond the Catholic way.

Well, dork, considering all the sins you’ll probably commit, I’m betting you’ll spend a good, long time in Purgatory or whatever.

Nah, a lifetime of being your brother makes me automatically a candidate for sainthood.

Ha. Ha. Seriously, though…are you alright? The Ajalob were pretty brutal with you. I felt so bad that I couldn’t help you.

Well, it was pretty lame, but…I think we had to go through it, you know? Face that horror. I’m betting what’s got Mom is way worse.

Yeah, I, uh, kind of blacked out before they cut me, but they just hurled my body down the steps, not like your ride on a shield. When Ixcuinan coaxed me back…I don’t even want to think about that pain.

Bad, huh?

That’s pretty much an understatement. I don’t know how I was able to focus long enough to shift. But I see where you’re going with this. It’s going to be ugly, isn’t it? Saving Mom.

I think so, yeah.

Well, then it’s a good thing this is taking for ever, because I really needed a break.

Any of the blades hurt you yet?

Oh, I feel them, but they’re not doing any damage.

Ditto here.

A comfortable pause came then as they trudged across the stony landscape. Johnny ran scenarios through his mind, the sorts of tricks he might need to try in order to get his mother free. Sitting in the Xibalban jail, he had found a single strand of black hair stuck in one of the feathers that fringed Huitzilopochtli’s shield, and he’d carefully knotted it into place with his other of animal bits and DNA. He had no idea whether the idea at the back of his mind was feasible, and he really hoped that he wouldn’t have to try it. Insurance, he told himself. A backup in case nothing else works.

Amazingly, the twins met up with no further obstacles as the terrain sloped ever downward. The horizon became a circular wall of rocky sand, sloping off in all directions. Looking straight ahead, Johnny could make out a thread of white descending directly opposite them. He glanced to the left and then to the right: red and green paths curved downward. The other three roads. They were nearing the center and bottom of Mictlan.

The winds whipped crazily around in circles for a few minutes, and then they were past Itzeecayan. The absence of the roaring gales was jarring, even for a crocodile’s limited hearing. Johnny shifted into a human again and looked around. The gloomy light from the eternally gray sky was reduced even more by the sloping land all about them. Looking toward the center of the Underworld, Johnny saw another body of water, broad and still like a lake, curving annular around the heart of Mictlan, shrouded in thick mists just a few miles away.

“I’m back to girl shape or whatever you called it,” Carol said behind him. “Are we there yet?”

Johnny smiled as he looked back at her. “Remember how irritated Dad would get when you would ask that?”

She laughed. “Yeah. But the cool thing was that he always answered, even though he sounded frustrated. I don’t remember him ever telling me to shut up.”

Johnny nodded. “He’s a pretty good guy. But he needs his wife, and we need our mom. So let’s go get her, what do you say?”

“Órale,” Carol responded, in perfect imitation of their mother.

They soon began to notice a strange smell similar to rotten eggs. The odor grew stronger as they approached the body of water, till it was nearly overpowering. Standing at its edge it looked to be a fetid mix of decomposing flesh, foul waste and acrid minerals. The air was thick and soupy and very likely poisonous. We’ve got to get through this quick.

Across the impenetrably black waters stretched a narrow stone bridge with no railings or other protection. It simply hung there in defiance of all laws of gravity, daring the twins to attempt a crossing.

“Well, I’m not swimming through that disgusting crap, so the bridge it is,” Johnny announced.

Carol took a ragged breath through her mouth, probably trying desperately not to let the air filter into her nose. “Or we could just fly, hello.”

Johnny nearly face-palmed at his own stupidity. “Of course. Lechuza time!”

Shifting into a screech owl, he grasped his shield in his talons and took flight, figuring Carol would follow him shortly. His wings beat the air above the noxious lake, but he felt himself being sucked down instead of going up. He struggled to gain altitude, but the air seemed to actively force him toward the inky water.

“Johnny!” his sister screamed as the shield actually slapped the surface. Oh, crap! He dredged up as much xoxal as his fear would let him, and in an exhausting burst of energy, he managed to flap his way to the stone causeway, tumbling into his twelve-year-old human form and panting heavily as he tottered to his feet. The bridge was only about three feet wide at best, and Johnny was sorely tempted to stretch his arms out on either side to maintain his balance.

“Can’t fly!” he called to his sister. “I think that’s what the goddess was about to tell us before she split into four and started kicking demon butt. Looks like we’re walking, Sis!”

She stopped fiddling with her necklace and walked carefully toward him. “I feel like gagging,” she muttered as she approached.

“Right? I guess we know where the Mictlandians drain their sewers, huh?”

“Mictlandians? I don’t think that’s what they’re called.”

“Yeah, well, ‘inhabitants of Mictlan’, just doesn’t have the same ring to it, and I guess they’re not exactly demons since this isn’t Hell.”

Carol shrugged. “Whatever. You’re just weird, in my honest opinion.”

They continued making their careful way across the thin strip of stone, doing their best not to faint at the stench, which got impossibly worse as they neared the center. Johnny’s eyes began to water and his nose to run. His very skin felt like it was breaking out in a rash.

“This is super unhealthy,” he croaked. “But at least my sinuses are clear now.”

Carol didn’t reply; she just scuffled along behind him, her hands on his shoulders.

They reached what Johnny judged was the midpoint when the attack came. A half-dozen winged creatures that looked like gargoyles seemed to materialize out of thin air, diving toward the bridge, mouths open to utter sepulchral cries. One of them slammed into Johnny, knocking him into the tarry waters. He landed on his back, and the shield kept him afloat momentarily as he watched the winged monsters harry his sister, who had knelt and was feverishly flipping through options on her necklace.

The sluggish currents of the Apanhuiayo, as Ixcuinan had called it, sucked at him, and he knew that there was no way he would be able to swim the rest of the way. He considered his bracelet for a moment. Only one bit of animal matter was left to try, a clump of fur that reminded him of a seal’s slick body.

Here goes nothing, he thought, and let his tonal leap into action. Water that had threatened to drown him instantly felt friendly and navigable. Four powerful legs ending in webbed, simian hands plied the inky sludge easily, aided by an agile tail tipped, inexplicably, with a fifth hand. Setting aside questions, Johnny rocketed toward the inner shore, praying that Carol had found a solution to her dilemma.

As if in answer, the air all around exploded into flame. Johnny’s ears were greeted by the screams of fricasseed gargoyles and a dragon’s roar of triumph.

Ah, you shifted into the fire serpent. Smart move.

Yes, well, the bridge can’t handle my weight, so I’m going to have to race you as it collapses behind me!

Very cinematic.

Dork.

He could hear chunks of the causeway fall into the lake with muffled splashes, generating waves that pushed him even more quickly to shore. He turned and saw Carol leap the last ten meters or so, landing heavily on the ground near him.

Johnny shook the last of the putrid water from his slick fur and morphed back into human shape.

“I don’t know what the hell that was,” he said, checking his shield as he gave Carol his back. “But thank God the Little People included it.”

“I’m pretty sure it was a water dog a, what’s it called, an ahuizotl. Read about them in one of Dad’s reference books on Mexican legends. Wait, don’t turn around yet.”

Having confirmed that Huitzilopochtli’s shield was still intact, Johnny looked ahead. The mist was very similar to what they’d seen upon entering the land of the dead and what had shrouded the desert of silence. Thinking of what might lie beyond it made his heart lurch with fear. Let’s keep that feeling to ourselves, okay, tonal? Carol needs her brother’s courage right now. I’m betting real darkness is on the other side.

Carol touched his arm, and he turned to look at her. Her clothes were scorched and ripped, her hair a total mess. But her eyes burned with a fierceness he recognized well: it was their mother’s determined, almost obstinate spirit.

“Well, here we are at last, Johnny. We crossed the Nine Deadly Deserts, faced everything they could throw at us, and here we are at the center of Mictlan. Ready to face the Grim Reaper and his beautiful bride Catrina?”

Johnny nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be, Sis.”

He took her hand, and they stepped through the veil.