They liked my mom, though. She gave them some light blue MAYA JOURNEYS tees from our isla tour business, since Adrik and Alana had arrived with only the clothes on their backs (Brooks had previously left a few of her things at my house for future use). But when Mom offered to wash their jeans, Adrik said, “No thanks,” like a grizzly bear guarding the last of his food.
Right. He had something in the pocket he wasn’t about to let go of.
Unfortunately, my over-the-top-generous mom also gave them a copy of my first book, the one the gods had forced me to write as a cautionary tale for anyone who might defy them.
When I asked my mom why, she just said, “They deserve the whole story, Zane. How can they make buenas choices without it?”
Ugh! I should totally burn all the truth paper in existence!
“Besides,” she added, “you’re such a good writer. I’ve read the story at least ten times. I really like that part about me driving like a pro stunt driver.” She smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Do you really think so?”
I laughed. “Heck yeah, Mom.”
“And Brooks?”
I stiffened. “What about her?” My face felt like it had been tossed into boiling water. Where was a rock when you really needed one to crawl under?
“Does she know how you feel?”
“Geesh, Mom…It’s not like—”
“I know exactly what it’s like,” she said, grinning all goofy like. “And if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”
She could be here all she wanted—no way was I ever, ever having that convo with her.
The next morning, we all stood on the beach waiting for some air spirit to arrive to take us to SHIHOM. That’s what our invites had said, anyways. Mom stood at the edge of the patio and waved. I knew she was crying, which made me feel really awful. I mean, I’d just gotten home, and here I was, already leaving again.
I’d already hugged her good-bye. Just as I’d pulled out of her arms, she’d whispered, “Your father promised to keep an eye on you.”
“When did you talk to him?”
Ignoring the question, she’d said, “Remind him that I will come for him if anything happens to you.”
Yup. My pro-stunt-driving mom was probably the one person whose threat would strike fear into a creator-and-destroyer god like Hurakan.
Ren looked at her gold watch and frowned. “The air spirit’s late.” She would know, since the watch had come from her mom, Pacific, the goddess of time. According to Ren, it kept perfect Maya time, but it hadn’t done any other magical stuff yet. I had told her not to worry—that could change tomorrow night, at the claiming ceremony.
“Maya creatures are hardly ever punctual.” Brooks took a bite of her pineapple empanada. My mom had given them to us for our journey, and I’d already polished off three.
Hondo hoisted his pack onto his shoulder. I guess, as a teacher, he didn’t have to follow the same bring-nothing rules the rest of us did. Whatever.
“What’s in the backpack?” I asked.
Hondo shrugged. “Just some stuff.”
Alana pushed her shades up the bridge of her nose. My mom had given her a blue neoprene MAYA JOURNEYS strap so Alana wouldn’t lose her glasses in case things got “adventuresome.”
I was totally rooting for an unadventurous trip to SHIHOM.
Just then, a thick wall of greenish fog swirled around us. So thick I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Rosie whined and nudged me with her wet muzzle.
“What the heck?” Brooks said.
“I can’t see!” That was Adrik.
Hondo gripped my shoulder. “Someone really should tell the gods to ixnay all the creep-factor stuff.”
The fog lifted like a veil, revealing a pre-dawn sky that was pink with wisps of silver and blue. Then, like flipping a set of blinds, the sky changed to pale orange with streaks of lavender. The sand glittered with gold and red and green, as if bits of rubies and emeralds had been scattered everywhere. And the sea? It was a brilliant turquoise with not a single wave.
“It’s like a kaleidoscope,” Ren whispered.
“Whoa!” Adrik blinked furiously, like he had a sea gnat in his eye.
Brooks’s mouth fell open.
“Is this SHIHOM?” Alana asked, tugging off her shades.
I spun to find my house gone. We were definitely no longer on Isla Holbox. There were no palm trees, no hammocks, no gulls. It was just us, the glittering beach, and the kaleidoscope sky. Or at least I thought so, until three massive tortugas with dark shells lumbered out of the sea. Their eyes were deep blue, like pools of iridescent ink. And let me tell you, they were muy slow.
“Those…uh…don’t look like air spirits,” Hondo said.
“That’s our ride to SHIHOM?” Brooks groaned. “Like, can’t we fly or take a gateway?”
“How do we know they’re friendly?” Alana chewed on a pinkie nail.
Her brother inched back and asked, “Aren’t turtles carnivores? Do you see any teeth?”
“Definite flesh-eaters,” Hondo said, popping the rest of his empanada into his mouth.
Ren smiled. “They look nice to me.”
Rosie danced on her three paws. Her eyes glowed vibrant gold with flecks of green. And then she bowed, lowering her head to the sparkling sand as if to say I worship you, O mighty turtles.
“Are they some kind of royalty?” Alana asked.
I tugged on my dog’s collar, but she didn’t budge.
“This could be a trick,” Adrik said, shaking his head.
Alana rolled her eyes. It was the first time I’d seen her brother get under her skin. “For real, Adrik? You think these turtles are just some decoys to get us into the water so they can drown us and watch our bones drift to the ocean floor?” She looked at Ren. “That’s not a thing, right?”
Adrik scowled at his sister. “You read too many books.”
“You watch too many acting videos.”
“Well, when I get famous, I won’t be thanking you!”
The turtles continued toward us, their domed shells shimmering in the morning sunlight. As they drew closer, I noticed that the scutes on their shells were a repeating pattern of obsidian and jade. Their heads and necks were dotted with black and white spots.
“That one in the middle has something in its mouth,” Ren said.
Alana elbowed me. “Go get it, Zane.”
“They’re tortugas,” Hondo sneered, “not demons.” He closed the sevenish-foot gap and we all followed. Well, Ren, Brooks, and I did. Adrik and Alana hung back a few feet.
The center turtle blinked slowly and dropped a large clamshell onto the sand. I scooped it up and cracked it open with Fuego. Inside, instead of gooey flesh, there was a folded letter.
“Who’s it from?” Ren said, ducking under my arm to get a better look. “What’s it say?”
I read the words aloud: “‘For Zane. Air spirits are on strike.’”
Brooks whispered, “Spirits go on strike?”
I continued reading, “‘The aaks’”—I pronounced it awk as in awkward—“‘will take you safely to SHIHOM. Only they can get you past the magical borders, so don’t fall off or try any funny detours. Oh, and do not attempt to mount until the turtle chooses you. They can be quite moody, but don’t worry, I fed them before they left. Got it?’” I looked up at the group’s curious expressions. The last words came out in a whoosh. “It’s signed A.P.”