Sky Knife Page 14

  “And if no one comes?”

  “Someone will come,” said Sky Knife. “So the plaza must be watched at all times, too.”

  Kan Flower hesitated. His gaze slid down toward the serpent at Sky Knife’s throat. “All right,” he said. “I would rather take Red Spider now, but I suppose a day or two won’t matter as long as we watch him closely.”

  “Thank you,” said Sky Knife. His heart pounded in his ears, and he realized he hadn’t really expected Kan Flower to follow his orders. For the first time, Sky Knife was glad of the long skirt—it hid the trembling of his knees.

  Kan Flower and the other warriors moved away. Kan Flower issued orders and they split up.

  “Sky Knife!”

  Sky Knife turned. Stone Jaguar strode across the plaza.

  “Good,” said Stone Jaguar. “I’m glad I found you. We have to prepare for a sacrifice.”

  “What?” asked Sky Knife. “When?”

  “At dawn,” said Stone Jaguar. “I convinced Storm Cloud that another sacrifice might turn the bad luck if we coincide the sacrifice with the birth of the sun.”

  Sky Knife nodded. “Perhaps it will work,” he said, though the plan sounded desperate. The gods could reverse bad luck—but why should they bother? Sky Knife believed only the discovery of the men behind the bad luck would stop it. But perhaps a sacrifice would help in some way. Itzamna knew Tikal needed all the help it could get right now.

  “It had better,” said Stone Jaguar. “Anyway, come back to the acropolis. You and I must prepare.”

  “And Death Smoke?”

  “Taken ill,” spat Stone Jaguar. “It looks as though he was right. I don’t expect him to last another day.”

  Stone Jaguar turned and walked toward the southern acropolis, Sky Knife at his heels, Bone Splinter a few strides behind.

  “How did you find a sacrifice?” asked Sky Knife. Normally, it took days to collect the names of the volunteers and to choose from among them.

  “Storm Cloud found one,” said Stone Jaguar as he mounted the steps of the acropolis. “His wife’s niece. She’s in the temple of Ix Chel now. She’s been told to prepare herself.”

  Sky Knife’s heart dropped and he stopped. Stone Jaguar slipped behind the drapery and disappeared into the acropolis. Sky Knife remained on the patio, motionless.

  “Itzamna,” he whispered, a cold twisting in his gut making him feel suddenly ill.

  At dawn, he would have to assist Stone Jaguar in the sacrifice. Stone Jaguar would reveal the Hand of God and slice into the sacrifice’s stomach, rip out the heart, and offer it to the gods. And Sky Knife would hear the screams.

  Sky Knife stumbled forward, but sobs caught in his throat. Jade Flute. Morning would come, and she would die.

  III

  NORTH

  WHERE THE RAIN GIVES BIRTH TO IDEAS

  9.0.0.0.2

  10 IK 15 CEH

  19

  Someone shook his shoulder. Sky Knife opened his eyes and yawned. Thoughts danced around his head in confusion. Vague memories of several hours spent reciting prayers to the gods before being sent to his bed squirmed in his mind.

  “Stone Jaguar says it is time,” said Bone Splinter. “Dawn will be here soon.”

  Suddenly, Sky Knife was awake. “Jade Flute,” he said.

  “Yes,” said Bone Splinter.

  Sky Knife got up and wrapped the skirt around his waist. Today, he didn’t apply any paint to his skin—he was not Sky Knife, unmarried youth, this morning, but a representative of the gods.

  Bone Splinter had reapplied grease to his hair and his ear spools were different. These had been carved of the light green jade that came from the mountains. Sky Knife stared at them in awe. Not even Stone Jaguar sported such exquisite ear spools.

  “My father’s,” said Bone Splinter when he noticed Sky Knife’s stare. “And his father’s before him.”

  Sky Knife dropped his stare, embarrassed and envious at the same time. His father had never owned anything as fine to leave Sky Knife. The jade strand around Sky Knife’s neck was the only jewelry he’d ever owned.

  Sky Knife straightened the skirt and chided himself inwardly. He was only thinking of Bone Splinter to keep himself from thinking of Jade Flute.

  His heart twisted as though a knife pierced it. How could he do it? She was the most beautiful woman in the city. She had a fiery spirit, too. Why her?

  Why not her? She wasn’t an asset to her uncle, considering the way she’d treated her suitors. If Storm Cloud couldn’t marry her off to a foreign prince, perhaps he thought sacrifice was the best answer to the problem of what to do with Jade Flute.

  “Stone Jaguar said to come quickly,” said Bone Splinter. He ducked his head apologetically. For some reason, the gesture touched Sky Knife. Bone Splinter was everything he was not, and yet the other man treated him as a friend. Sky Knife felt warmed by that.

  Sky Knife left his quarters and walked out of the acropolis. The night was still dark. The Knife of Stars sliced the darkness overhead.

  Very few people stood in the plaza. No doubt word had not gotten out to the outlying areas about the sacrifice. Probably only the craftspeople and merchants who lived in the areas immediately adjacent to the ceremonial center would attend this morning’s sacrifice.

  Sky Knife walked to the Great Pyramid and mounted the first step. The skirt wrapped around his ankles and knees as if to trip him. Sky Knife jerked to straighten the skirt and lift the hem a few inches higher. Slowly, he climbed the remaining thirty-five steps.

  Stone Jaguar stood on the pyramid with several young men Sky Knife didn’t recognize. Stone Jaguar must have conscripted more help while Sky Knife had been busy elsewhere. Families of craft trades were always willing to donate younger sons to assist the priests of the temple.

  The four attendants knelt at the four corners of the flat-topped pyramid. Stone Jaguar bowed slightly to Sky Knife. Sky Knife resisted the urge to kneel before Stone Jaguar as he would have two days before. But he was a priest now, and if not equal to Stone Jaguar in status, at least near enough in status to require no more than a bow in return. He bowed.

  Stone Jaguar wore his jaguar-skin cloak and shell mask. Feathers stuck out from the mask around the edges, making Stone Jaguar’s head seem larger than normal. Sky Knife walked to the small north altar, assuming he would be needed to light the cigars that drove away bad luck and the death gods.

  Cigars that usually drove away the death gods, Sky Knife amended to himself. But surely Cizin wouldn’t be strong enough to breach the good luck of a sacrifice twice in a row.

  “Dawn comes,” said Stone Jaguar. He gestured to the attendants, who stood and moved to the altar. They hesitated before kneeling at their respective places.

  Sky Knife did not envy them. The first sacrifice he had attended had been hard on him. He had fled the pyramid as soon as he had been allowed and had run away on shaky legs to be sick in the fringes of the jungle. There had been so much blood. All over the altar. All over him.

  Normally, only one new attendant was trained for sacrificial duty at a time, so that if he ran, the other three could still complete the sacrifice. With four new attendants, anything could happen. Sky Knife swallowed hard and prayed the young men would be brave enough to stay.

  Guilt wracked him. At the same time he wanted the young men to be able to do their sacred duty, he wanted with all his heart for the sacrifice to be canceled. He didn’t want to watch Jade Flute sacrificed. Even to save Tikal.

  Not that Stone Jaguar was likely to stop a sacrifice he had talked Storm Cloud into. Jade Flute would die. Sky Knife bit his lip and tried to push aside his bitterness and grief. The gods would not be pleased if he were not able to offer sacrifice with a pure heart.

  The first gray tinges of dawn brightened in the east. Pink and gold followed quickly.

  Stone Jaguar invoked the gods of the cardinal directions, but Sky Knife didn’t listen. He let the booming voice of Stone Jaguar rush past him.

&n
bsp; “It is time!” shouted Stone Jaguar when he had finished the invocation. He turned to Sky Knife. Sky Knife reached into a sack at the base of the altar and pulled out a cigar. He concentrated on it, recalling the feeling of calling fire to his hands. For a long moment, nothing happened. Sky Knife took a deep breath and tried again.

  The tip of the cigar burst into flames. Sky Knife laid it on the altar quickly and stepped back. Stone Jaguar gestured toward another sack, this one crumpled at the base of the eastern stone bowl. Sky Knife walked over, reached in, and pulled out a handful of copal. He threw some of it in the eastern bowl, then walked to the southern and threw in the rest.

  The sickly sweet aroma of the temple glow wafted by him, mixed with the scent of copal and tobacco. Sky Knife’s stomach, knotted in grief as it was, gurgled and turned against the smell. Sky Knife prayed he wouldn’t embarrass himself on the temple, and walked back to the northern altar.

  “Let the sacrifice come forth!” said Stone Jaguar. Musicians struck up the beat. Sky Knife looked at the rapidly brightening sky. He didn’t want to see Jade Flute stride across the plaza in time to the drums. He didn’t want to see her naked before the world. He didn’t want to see Stone Jaguar plunge the knife into her belly.

  But he had to look. He’d never see her again. Sky Knife gazed down on the sacrifice. It helped a little to think of her only as the sacrifice and not as Jade Flute, but not much.

  Flowers had been plaited into her hair, and she was swathed in blue cotton as befitted the sacrifice. She walked slowly and held her head high. Sky Knife’s throat swelled with pride and sadness.

  Jade Flute climbed the thirty-six steps without hesitation. She shed the lengths of cotton until she stood naked upon the temple platform. Sky Knife flushed with embarrassment but didn’t look away. Jade Flute noticed his stare and frowned.

  Stone Jaguar pointed toward the altar. Jade Flute tossed her head and glared at him but obeyed. She walked to the altar and lay down upon it. The four attendants pinned her there.

  Stone Jaguar held the Hand of God over his head. It glowed frightfully, brilliantly blue. Sky Knife tensed, his knees threatening to give way beneath him at any moment.

  “Hold!” shouted someone from the plaza.

  Stone Jaguar hesitated. Sky Knife rushed forward in surprise. Who would make noise at such an unlucky time?

  Red Spider stood in the center of the plaza. Around him, the rest of the people shrank away, unwilling to invite attention to themselves if the gods of ill luck noticed Red Spider’s outrageous display of gall.

  “You!” said Stone Jaguar. “I should have known you were behind all of this. Now it’s over—this sacrifice shall return Tikal to glory and luck.”

  “Never!” said Red Spider. “I know why Storm Cloud—and you—decided upon her as a sacrifice. The gods do not appreciate such deviousness.”

  “You do not know what the gods want,” said Stone Jaguar. “You are not a priest here.”

  “Yet I am a magician and a warrior,” said Red Spider. “And I want this woman. I will stop you if I can. The Feathered Serpent will stand with me.”

  Once again, Stone Jaguar raised the blade above Jade Flute. She tensed and trembled, her eyes following the movement of the blade. A tear slid down her cheek and trickled into her ear.

  Sky Knife’s heart went out to her. Like all the other sacrifices, she was afraid. He wanted to rush forward, to offer himself in her place, to do anything to make her trial easier.

  “No!” shouted Red Spider.

  Something slammed into Sky Knife from the side and knocked him down. He lay on his back a long moment, staring at the brightening sky, while a great weight pressed him against the stones of the temple. He couldn’t move. Panic crept into his thoughts.

  Then it was gone. Sky Knife sat up quickly. The four attendants ran down the steps screaming and batting at something Sky Knife couldn’t see.

  Stone Jaguar stood in the center of the temple platform, arms upraised. His cloak fluttered about him, blown by a strong wind that rushed up the temple steps and swirled around the summit. The wind moaned like the dead in Xibalba. The sound cut through Sky Knife’s nerves. He trembled uncontrollably at the shrieking of the gale.

  A blue haze surrounded Stone Jaguar. He thrust the Hand of God out before him and sketched an outline in the air. Water slapped Sky Knife in the face.

  Sky Knife wiped the water away and turned his back to Stone Jaguar. Water rained outwards from Stone Jaguar toward Red Spider, who stood in the center of a circle of green light. Sky Knife inched his way forward on hands and knees toward Jade Flute, who lay still on the altar.

  Sky Knife got to the altar and reached a shaky hand up to touch Jade Flute’s arm. She jerked and screamed.

  “It’s me!” Sky Knife shouted over the gale. “Sky Knife!”

  Jade Flute must have heard him. She didn’t hesitate, but rolled toward him and off the altar. Sky Knife caught her around the waist and held her tightly against the wind and the driving rain. Jade Flute shook and sobbed into Sky Knife’s shoulder. He trembled, too, but held her close and prayed the battle would be over soon.

  Sky Knife prayed, but didn’t know what outcome to pray for. If Stone Jaguar won, Jade Flute died. If Red Spider won, Jade Flute would be lost to him. But at least then she would be alive.

  Sky Knife hated to pray for victory for Red Spider, but he couldn’t pray for Stone Jaguar.

  The wind died down suddenly. Sky Knife raised his head above the altar. Red Spider knelt in the plaza, hands clutched to his abdomen. The green circle was gone.

  “Die, bringer of bad luck,” said Stone Jaguar. “And take your Feathered Serpent with you. He has no power here.”

  Red Spider crawled a few feet away from the pyramid. Sky Knife swallowed hard at the effort it cost the man. Blood ran from Red Spider’s nose and ears and from under his fingernails. Each time he moved, his face contorted in agony.

  Stone Jaguar laughed. His laugh, coming from behind the mask, roared forth in deep, thunderous peals that made Sky Knife shiver anew.

  “Crawl away, magician,” said Stone Jaguar. “Your evil days are finished.”

  One of Red Spider’s attendants came forward and would have helped him, but Red Spider waved him away. The Teotihuacano merchant continued to inch his way off the plaza by dragging himself with hands and elbows.

  Sky Knife turned to Stone Jaguar. Without attendants, he couldn’t complete the sacrifice. At least, Sky Knife hoped he couldn’t.

  Stone Jaguar stared down at Sky Knife and Jade Flute. “It’s too late for this morning,” he said. “The sun has touched the horizon without being fed her heart.”

  Stone Jaguar stepped down off the temple and strode down the steps, across the plaza. The few people who remained scattered before him.

  Sky Knife sank back on his haunches and held Jade Flute tightly. If he had any say in it, he knew he’d never let her go.

  20

  Sky Knife watched as the last few people in the plaza hurried away. Only Bone Splinter remained.

  Sky Knife sighed and stood. Jade Flute stayed hunched down at his feet. Sky Knife untwisted the knot in his skirt and let it drop to his ankles, leaving him clad only in his blue loincloth. He stepped out of the skirt, bent down, and picked it up.

  The skirt was wet from the rain and heavy. Sky Knife held it out to Jade Flute. “Here,” he said. “You can wear this until you get back to the temple.”

  Jade Flute snatched the skirt and slipped it over her head. She gathered it under her arms and twisted it into a knot similar to the one Sky Knife had used. She stood. The skirt covered her from her chest almost to her knees. On impulse, Sky Knife removed his jade necklace and looped it over Jade Flute’s head.

  Jade Flute smiled, but tears flooded her eyes again. “Thank you,” she said. “But I suppose I can only wear it until tomorrow.”

  Sky Knife put an arm around her shoulders and Jade Flute leaned against him. “Perhaps,” he said. “But maybe I can
talk Stone Jaguar out of another sacrifice. There is just too much going on—I don’t believe a simple sacrifice is going to help Tikal.”

  “I don’t want to die,” said Jade Flute. “I thought I could do my duty to my family and my city, but…” Jade Flute’s voice dropped to a whisper and she trembled. “But when I saw the blade, I didn’t want it to happen. The gods won’t find me acceptable—I’m afraid.”

  “They all are,” said Sky Knife. He led her around the altar and down the steps. Bone Splinter stood, arms folded across his chest, at the base of the pyramid.

  “I’ll take her back to the temple,” said Sky Knife.

  Bone Splinter nodded.

  Jade Flute pulled away. “No,” she said. “I don’t want to go back there.”

  “Why not?” asked Sky Knife.

  Jade Flute spat. “They wanted me to be the sacrifice because they would rather see me dead than alive and unmarried.”

  “Then become a nun,” said Bone Splinter, “and you will never have to marry.”

  “I don’t want to be a nun,” said Jade Flute. “I’ve lived with them. I know what their lives are like. Pray, pray, pray. That’s all they do. They stay shut up in their temple and talk to Ix Chel.”

  “Then what do you want?” asked Sky Knife.

  Jade Flute pulled away slightly and looked up at him. “I want a husband who wants me because I’m Jade Flute, and not because my aunt’s husband is the king.”

  “It may be difficult to find a man like that,” said Bone Splinter. “Many men will want to marry into the family of the king.”

  “I know,” said Jade Flute.

  Sky Knife hated himself for asking, but he did. “What about Red Spider?”

  Jade Flute sneered. “He wanted me to be a prize to take back home to Teotihuacan. He petitioned Storm Cloud for me. But I don’t want to marry a foreigner. I said so to Storm Cloud. I will marry a man of Tikal.”