I spun wildly, expecting to see the god of death, but the cave was empty. “Where are you?”

“Literally?” His voice was small and distant. “Floating in utter darkness. Again.”

“Are you with the other gods? I don’t know where you are, or how to save you.” I clenched Fuego with both hands. “How are you even talking to me?”

“I am the god of death, remember? Hard to put me under completely. And you and I are connected, in case you forgot.”

“I didn’t forget.” How could I? Our minds were forever linked the moment I saved his life with the jade stone.

“But that’s not the point….” His voice trailed off, and I didn’t catch what he said next.

“Talk louder,” I said. “I can barely hear you.”

“Not surprising. I am in terrible shape. The lowest of the low.”

A plump orange-and-black-striped centipede climbed up the rock wall near the bowl of flame until it was at my eye level. Its skinny legs were twitching and 500 percent revolting.

I stared, trying not to get too close. “Wait. Is that you? You’re an insect? How—”

“This is no time to talk about forms and energy, Zane.” The centipede’s head swayed ever so slightly. Did the thing even have eyes?

“Er…okay. What do you want me to do? How do I save you?” I prepared for the god of death to lay out a brilliant multi-point plan.

Instead, he said, “You can’t save me. You can’t save any of us.”

“WHAT?! No! Why…why would you bother coming here if—”

“To say good-bye. To tell you that you really were one of my favorite enemies. And to ask you to give Ren a message from me. Gods don’t feel attachment or love—not like you humans do—but my heart was bigger when she was around. Tell her that.”

“NO! You can give her that message! I just had a bunch of memories about time and magic and evil, and I think they’re connected…. Just tell me where you are.”

“No idea. But it’s far. So far that it took everything I had to reach you. It’s almost as if…”

“As if what?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter! Zotz and Ixkik’ can’t get away with this!”

“Don’t you see?” he said angrily. “They already have. We walked right into their trap. We are to blame for our stupidity.”

“I have to try to help!”

“I knew you would feel that way. That’s the other reason I came: to warn you. Do not risk your life for gods that are already gone. Your father would kill you.”

“Yeah? Well, he’s out of commission right now, so no one’s killing anyone.” My voice had risen to full-throttle panic. “What do you mean, ‘already gone’?”

“We are no longer here, Zane.”

Anger throbbed in my chest. My eyes blazed. “Look, you know I am going to come for you! You know I can’t just sit back and do nothing.”

“Listen to me!” He growled like he was using his last ounce of strength. “That’s exactly what Zotz and Ixkik’ want. It will only send you down a dark and dangerous rabbit hole, and there will be no victory,” he said. “I am…I was the god of death, darkness, and destruction. If I could see a way out, don’t you think I would tell you? Don’t you think I would love nothing more than to shred our enemies?”

“You never give up!” I said, knowing that I had to keep him here, keep him talking. I had to be more convincing. “You fought your way back from the inferno I trapped you in. Back from death! You know better than anyone that there’s always a way out!” Maybe he wouldn’t help me save the gods, but he might care if it meant saving Ren. “They have the entry stone—they’re coming to SHIHOM to kill all of us. We need you!”

He was silent, so silent I was worried he had left. Then he finally said, “The devourer…” He spoke through what sounded like gritted teeth.

“Devourer?” And just like that, the memory of Ixtab telling me about the Mexica earth goddess who gives and devours life slammed into my brain. Ugh! Why couldn’t I remember her name? “You mean the devouring goddess?” I blurted. “Is she the one they resurrected? She did this to you?”

“Yes,” he groaned. I could tell he was barely holding on.

“Please give me more clues about where you are. Think of anything.”

“Ren,” he managed. “She is the only one…”

“The only one what?!”

The centipede shivered once, then began to crawl across the wall, and I knew Ah-Puch was gone.

“Ah-Puch!” I shouted. “Come back!”

The word devourer made me sick to my stomach. Were the gods being eaten alive by that Mexica goddess?

Fury, panic, and bone-deep fear scrambled all my thoughts. This. Was. So. Not. Happening.

In my mind’s eye, I placed the memories side by side:

I am the keeper of time.

Time was invented in this place.

The seeds of this evil could only be discovered in the underworld.

Master of deception.

“What does it mean?” I said. The blue flame rose higher.

Time.

Evil.

Deception.

I set Fuego against the wall and thrust my hands into the blue blaze, as if I could will more memories to appear. I’d been led here, to this exact spot, for a reason. The crackling flames spat and hissed. I leaned in closer, plunging my face inside them as the same words echoed through me:

Time. Evil. Deception.

Time. Evil. Deception.

As the words repeated, a picture appeared in the fire. It was the same image Alana had drawn in the sand, except more detailed: three circles with glyphs and evenly spaced teeth and notches, like gears. The smallest circle, labeled with the Maya number system, was housed inside a medium-size one, and third was much bigger. I could tell that if one circle was turned, the other two would move as well. It looked like this:

It’s the three ancient Maya calendars, I thought.

Then poof! The calendars dissolved, and the flame went out. I staggered, trying to still my pounding pulse as I grabbed Fuego and leaned against it. That’s when I noticed the centipede was still clinging to the wall. Its body pulsed once, twice.

Ah-Puch?

The insect started to lengthen. Then it plumped up like someone was filling it with air. As it grew longer and fatter, it whipped its neck and creepy antennae in my direction.

Right. Some peaceful labyrinth this was.

When the centipede had reached a length of about three feet, its mouth (which, by the way, had an evil-looking hook on each side) opened wide—wide enough to swallow a baseball.

“Gaaah!” So I screamed. Sue me. You would have, too, especially if you knew that centipedes usually wrap their bodies around their prey and release a bunch of venom into them, i.e., give them a slow and painful death, before eating them.

¡No gracias!

“Intruder,” the nasty centipede whispered.

I backed up slowly—you know, no sudden movements to freak out the bug. “I was just leaving,” I grunt-laughed.

“K’iin,” the centipede said, “can only be seen by the dead. You are not dead.”

Keen?

The beast jumped onto my shoulders and wrapped itself around my neck, squeezing. My air was immediately cut off, and I felt razor-sharp legs piercing my skin.

I clutched its slimy body, trying to rip it off as I summoned the fire within me, but the thing held on and squeezed like a vise. I could feel its poison burning in my blood.

My vision started to fade. I fell to my knees, clawing and gasping.

Then, with one last effort, I willed Fuego into spear mode and thrust it into the centipede, ripping hard to the right.

Shkwert!

Warm bluish blood oozed down my shirt. I dropped to my knees, choking on the humid air as the bug’s gutted body slipped off me and writhed on the ground. Noxious yellow gas spiraled from the corpse and filled the chamber, burning me so bad I could feel the hair on my head singeing right off.

Just as I was about to expel a flame to bring down the entire chamber, the darkness and gas disappeared.