Sky Knife Page 10

  “Bone Splinter!”

  The large man jogged over. “Have you found it?” he asked.

  “I think so,” said Sky Knife. “At least, the chic-chac wanted me to look here.”

  Sky Knife stepped toward the path, but Bone Splinter grabbed his arm and stopped him. Sky Knife gasped as the pain from his wounds flared again to life at Bone Splinter’s touch.

  “I’m sorry,” said Bone Splinter, “but I should go first.”

  Sky Knife’s arm trembled as Bone Splinter released it, but he kept the pain to himself. Bone Splinter strode on ahead, holding aside branches for Sky Knife.

  “Bone Splinter?” asked Sky Knife.

  “Yes?”

  Sky Knife hesitated. He hadn’t had the courage to ask Bone Splinter anything about his life, about why he was in the House of the Warriors. But Bone Splinter hadn’t hesitated to spend wealth in Sky Knife’s cause. Perhaps he’d answer a question, too.

  “I, uh,” began Sky Knife, “was wondering. How did you come to be a warrior?”

  Bone Splinter chuckled. “I’m tall and strong,” he said. “But then, I could have been a tall and strong farmer, at that. Actually, my grandfather was one of Jaguar Paw’s retainers. He promised Jaguar Paw that his son would become a warrior.”

  Bone Splinter held aside a large vine and Sky Knife ducked under it.

  “But my father didn’t grow up strong; he had a weak leg and he stuttered. He became a servant in the royal house and promised that his son would fulfill my grandfather’s vow. And so I did. When I was eight, I went to live with the warriors and I’ve been there ever since. I have a sister. She’s one of Turtle Nest’s nuns.”

  “Only one sister?” asked Sky Knife. He wiped sweat from his face. Above him, iguanas rustled in the branches. Their long tales drooped over vines and leaves, making them look much like vines themselves.

  “Yes,” said Bone Splinter. “My father died while my sister and I were very young. I told you, he was not strong. My mother died a few years later in the sickness.”

  “My parents died then, too,” said Sky Knife. “And one of my brothers. I have two other brothers, though.”

  “Older brothers?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “You are the fourth son. No wonder you’re special.”

  Sky Knife blushed and was glad Bone Splinter was ahead of him, unaware of Sky Knife’s discomfiture. “So was my father,” said Sky Knife softly.

  Bone Splinter nodded as if that explained everything. Suddenly, he pointed ahead. “There,” he said.

  A small peasant hut sat only a short way in front of them. The trees grew up around it as if the hut had been built without clearing the trees first.

  “Hello?” called Sky Knife.

  “Go away,” said a thin, hoarse voice from inside the hut.

  “I have to ask you a few questions,” said Sky Knife. “I come from the king.”

  There was a slight pause. “I know where you’ve come from,” said the voice, “and where you’re going. I know about that bauble around your neck and the stone at your waist. I know many things.”

  “Please, I need to speak to you,” said Sky Knife. There was no answer. Sky Knife stood still just outside the hut, determined to outwait the woman.

  The jungle was hot and the air very still. Beetles rustled in the leaves and twigs on the forest floor at Sky Knife’s feet. Overhead, birds hopped from limb to limb, but at this time of day, they refrained from singing.

  A spindly monkey stared down curiously. It scratched its head as if puzzled by their presence. Then it reached out, grabbed a leaf and plucked it. The monkey shoved the leaf in its mouth and continued to consider Sky Knife and Bone Splinter while it chewed.

  “Come in,” the old woman said eventually. “Patience should be rewarded in one so young.”

  Sky Knife stepped up into the house, which, like all peasant huts, had been built on a raised platform of earth. A small fire crackled in the firepit in the center of the hut. Branches, leaves, and fruit hung from the walls and peaked thatch ceiling, making the interior of the hut seem like its own kind of jungle. A musty smell hung in the air. Sky Knife suppressed a sneeze.

  Sky Knife sat by the fire slowly, looking around. He saw rags and broken pottery jars scattered in the corners of the hut, but he didn’t see the old woman. Bone Splinter sat down beside him.

  “Hello?” asked Sky Knife.

  One of the rags in the corner moved. It sat up. Sky Knife suppressed a gasp of surprise. Now that the woman was sitting, Sky Knife could make out her skeletal figure. Fine wisps of white hair clung to her mottled scalp, and bare gums showed when she smiled.

  “Welcome to my hut, priest of the unlucky name,” she said, “and devoted guardian of the king. It has been long and long since any as esteemed as yourselves came into my hut. Not since the great Jaguar Paw’s day.”

  “Jaguar Paw?” asked Sky Knife. “But he died … he died in my grandfather’s youth.”

  “Even so, little one,” said the old woman. “I have seen kings come and go, but none ever became what Jaguar Paw was. So—what brings you to my home?”

  “Ah,” said Sky Knife, momentarily forgetting his purpose in his awe. This woman had seen Jaguar Paw! She had to be the oldest person in the world. “Ah, the bad luck,” he said finally. “I’m trying to find out who is bringing disaster to Tikal. I believe this man—or men—want to cut out the heart of the city in a terrible kind of sacrifice.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, the bad luck seems to concentrate in the plaza. The plaza, as I have been recently reminded, is the heart of the city. The center. If someone wanted to kill a city, they would only have to keep people out of the plaza.”

  The old woman laughed. “Only a man would think of such a thing. Youngster, a city is more than a plaza, more than its people.”

  “Only a man?” asked Bone Splinter. “Do you think a woman does this to Tikal?”

  “No,” said the old woman. “I know no woman strong enough to bring such terrible bad luck to our city. No, you must keep searching for a man.”

  “The priestess said a tall man with a dark heart.”

  The old woman pointed a bony finger toward Sky Knife. “Most men are taller than a priestess, and all men hide darkness in their hearts.”

  A dread sort of heaviness hung on Sky Knife’s heart. “Then what can I do?” he asked. “Whom do I look for?”

  “Your rainbow friend may aid you,” said the old woman. “But depend on nothing but your own strength. The eyes of a rainbow serpent see clearly, but not what a man sees.”

  “How could this bad luck happen?” asked Sky Knife. “Who has the power?”

  “Very few,” said the old woman. “Not even the king can call the black jaguar. Jaguar Paw could have, but not Storm Cloud.”

  “Red Spider?” asked Sky Knife.

  “Him I know not,” said the woman. “For his roots are not here.”

  Sky Knife nodded to the old woman, convinced his interview with her had been a failure. She had told him nothing that he did not know, and discounted Turtle Nest’s words he had thought he could rely upon. Sky Knife stood. “Thank you,” he said. “I will not disturb you further.”

  “Wait,” said the old woman. “There is one thing I have seen, but you will not like it.”

  “And what is that?”

  “The darkness of Xibalba lies between you and your goal. Only a perfect sacrifice will free you from it.”

  Sky Knife hesitated over her strange words, unsure what to say in return. Finally, he settled for nodding to the woman. She smiled slightly and waved him away.

  Sky Knife stepped down out of the hut and walked back through the thick, hot jungle to the cleared area next to the temple of Ix Chel. He walked back to the plaza, contemplating the old woman’s words.

  Bone Splinter interrupted his reverie. “Look,” said the warrior. He pointed to the palace. Sky Knife could just see it in the distance. From the roof flew a large wh
ite banner.

  Bone Splinter grinned. “It is war!”

  13

  “War?” asked Sky Knife. “With whom? Why?”

  “I don’t know,” said Bone Splinter. The warrior speeded his pace and Sky Knife struggled to keep up. “But Kan Flower will.”

  Sky Knife followed Bone Splinter across the sparsely populated plaza, past the Great Pyramid, to the House of the Warriors. The garden, which, the day before, had been a peaceful place for throwing bones and creating poetry, now swarmed with activity. Warriors painted themselves in red and black and prepared their weapons.

  Sky Knife struggled to see Kan Flower amidst the whirl of activity.

  “Navel of the World!” exclaimed a warrior near Sky Knife. “A rainbow serpent!”

  All the warriors in the garden turned to Sky Knife. Their open-mouthed stares unnerved him. Sky Knife resisted an urge to back away.

  Kan Flower stepped out from behind another warrior, a sword in his hands. Two red lines of paint ran down each of his cheeks like bloody tears. He walked to Sky Knife slowly, eyes never leaving the chic-chac.

  “Is it true?” he asked. “Is it really a rainbow serpent? I saw it earlier, but I didn’t dare believe…”

  Bone Splinter grunted. “As you see.”

  Kan Flower dropped to his knees. All the warriors in the garden besides Bone Splinter did the same. Kan Flower held out his sword. It had been carved from the wood of the ceiba tree. Bits of obsidian stuck out along its edges like tiny black teeth. “Please,” said Kan Flower, “touch the sword, Sky Knife. Whatever luck goes with you, share it with me.”

  Sky Knife reached out and touched the sword, though he felt silly doing so. The chic-chac’s luck might be his, or it might not if he believed the strange old woman. Still, it didn’t seem to Sky Knife that his touch should prove any benefit.

  Kan Flower rose and stepped back. One by one, the other warriors rose and held out their spears, slings, and swords to Sky Knife. He touched each one and tried to behave as dignified as the warriors seemed to expect. He was sure Stone Jaguar would have proceeded in a much more impressive, priest-like manner.

  When the last warrior had filed past, Bone Splinter, who had stood to the side all during the strange ritual, stepped forward. “Now, tell us of the war,” he said. “Upon whom do we make war, and when?”

  “Storm Cloud decided this morning,” said Kan Flower.

  “Uaxactun,” interrupted a man Sky Knife remembered as the laughing warrior from the day before. “We fight Uaxactun. The king has decided our bad luck comes from there.”

  “How does he know?” asked Sky Knife. He stepped forward, toward the warrior, who stepped back. Sky Knife stopped. “What is going on?” he asked.

  Bone Splinter laughed. “You see, Sky Knife? They are all in awe of you because of the serpent.”

  Red anger rose in Sky Knife’s throat. “Wonderful,” he said. “But I don’t need awe. I need answers.” He stepped forward and sat down on the bench he had occupied the day before. “And someone to tell me why Storm Cloud decided to make war.”

  Kan Flower came and knelt on the ground at Sky Knife’s feet. “It was the merchants,” he said. “When the king discovered you wanted us to search for merchants who had recently been to Uaxactun, he ordered the war. It shall be tomorrow. A runner has already been sent to Uaxactun to tell them to prepare.”

  Sky Knife leaned back against the rock wall behind him. “What about Stone Jaguar? Where is he?”

  “He is with the king,” said Kan Flower, “trying to dissuade him from making war.” Kan Flower’s voice sounded angry.

  “He should be planning a ceremony to aid us, not working against us,” said the laughing warrior. He spat. “The priests always try to have things their own way.”

  Sky Knife stood. “I need to see the king,” he said. “Something is wrong. There shouldn’t be a war, not when we don’t know who is behind this.”

  “The king’s word is good enough for me,” said the laughing warrior, “and for any man here. We obey only him.”

  “And die only for him,” added Bone Splinter. “But perhaps even a king can act rashly in this matter. I think Sky Knife should see him.”

  The other warriors glanced at each other. Only Kan Flower looked right at Sky Knife. “I’m not sure,” he said. “But the rainbow serpent is an omen I don’t understand. Perhaps the king should see it. It can do no harm.”

  One by one, the other warriors nodded. Bone Splinter crossed his arms over his wide chest. “All right then,” he said. “I shall take Sky Knife to the king.”

  Sky Knife stood and followed Bone Splinter out of the garden and out of the House of the Warriors. They walked north toward the palace, and past the stela that stood outside. This time, Sky Knife did not abase himself before it. He bowed slightly, but kept on walking. Bone Splinter paid no attention to it.

  The warriors who stood at the entrance to the palace stared at Sky Knife. No doubt they saw the chic-chac. Sky Knife walked past them quickly into the dark palace.

  Sky Knife turned toward the direction of the throne room, but a hand on his shoulder held him back.

  “No,” said Bone Splinter. “You shouldn’t just go in like a servant. I shall announce you first. Wait here.”

  Bone Splinter moved off down the corridor. Sky Knife wanted to pace back and forth, but if he did, the warriors outside would notice. So he forced himself to stand still and appear calm, though his heart was in turmoil—not only was he going to see the king, but he was going to try to talk him out of a war.

  Bone Splinter returned quickly. “The king will see you,” he said. “And I think Stone Jaguar is pleased you are here.”

  Sky Knife headed for the throne room, Bone Splinter just behind him. The corridor was dark, but the glow from the serpent at his throat lit his way. The warrior at the entrance to the throne room pulled the drapery back, but kept his eyes on the floor, refusing to meet Sky Knife’s eyes or to stare at the source of the strange light that filled the hall.

  The throne room was just as he remembered it, but this time, the fear Sky Knife felt was not fear of the king. He walked confidently down the center of the room to the dais at the far end and knelt before Storm Cloud. Stone Jaguar sat just in front and to the right of the throne.

  “You wished to see me, Sky Knife?” asked Storm Cloud, his accent jarring Sky Knife’s ears once again.

  “Yes,” he said with a nod. “Kan Flower told me you plan to make war on Uaxactun tomorrow.”

  “And I do,” said Storm Cloud. He waved toward Stone Jaguar. “Though the Ah men of Tikal says it would be foolish.”

  “If you send the warriors out of the city, there will be a disaster,” said Stone Jaguar. “Whoever is causing the bad luck will have a free hand to do as they please.”

  “I don’t see that they’re having much difficulty as it is,” said Storm Cloud. “Whoever it is was strong enough to call up that darkness-spawned rain this morning. What did you do about that, priest?”

  Stone Jaguar was silent. Sky Knife jumped to his superior’s defense. “Just so, my king,” he said. “Someone was strong enough to call up that rain. That means they were in the city. Uaxactun is miles from here—no one there is causing the bad luck here.”

  “They may not be there, but I believe they are from there,” said the king. “Unless you have found out something since the rain?”

  Sky Knife struggled to find an answer for the king. “I talked to someone who felt the answer might lie in Teotihuacan,” he said. It wasn’t exactly what the old woman had said, but almost. “Perhaps one of your brothers is here to cause you trouble.”

  Storm Cloud sat back and stroked the jade beads that dangled from around his throat. “The last I heard, my brothers squabbled among themselves about who would rule what. Perhaps one of them decided I would be an easier target. It’s possible.”

  “There is a merchant from Teotihuacan in the city,” said Sky Knife. “I was talking to him when the rain
came, but he could have an accomplice.”

  “Red Spider,” said Storm Cloud. “Yes, I know him. His family has a great deal of status. He would be a powerful foe.”

  “You know him?” asked Sky Knife.

  The king laughed softly and stepped off the dais to stand in front of Sky Knife. For the first time, Sky Knife realized Storm Cloud resembled Red Spider. Not as tall, and more Mayan-looking than foreign. But they had the same eyes, the same hooded, bird of prey eyes.

  Storm Cloud laid a hand on Sky Knife’s shoulder. The king was several inches taller than Sky Knife, and much more elaborately dressed. Sky Knife felt like a child before him. Who was he to question Storm Cloud’s judgment in anything?

  “Oh, yes,” said Storm Cloud. “He is family. His mother was my father’s cousin, who married one of the warrior-merchants of the city. Red Spider is her eldest son.”

  “Then he might want to act against you,” said Sky Knife.

  Storm Cloud, for some reason Sky Knife didn’t understand, laughed. He released Sky Knife’s shoulder and sat down on the edge of the dais. “I don’t think so,” he said. “There is something in this city he wants, but she wears a purple dress and throws fruit at her suitors. He would not want to woo a bad luck bride.”

  “Jade Flute?” asked Sky Knife, his knees suddenly wobbling. He had not thought to wonder what other suitors she might have. But then, what was he thinking? Storm Cloud could never marry Jade Flute to a low-status priest like himself.

  “So you’ve met my wife’s niece,” said Storm Cloud. “She is another problem. But not the most immediate.”

  “The war,” said Stone Jaguar. “Call off the war, lest ruin overtake us.”

  Storm Cloud clapped his hands. “Leave me,” he said. “And I will consider the matter. And even if I do decide to call off the war, that doesn’t mean that the king of Uaxactun will permit me to back away from the promise of a fight. He may insist.”

  “He may indeed,” said Stone Jaguar, “but then let the wrath of the gods be on his head, not yours. You must protect your city.”