Rosie snorted once, then plopped onto her behind.
“Good,” the spirit said. “The sun always rises from Xib’alb’a and travels across the sky, just so the west can devour it.” He held his hands out pleadingly. “Don’t you see? The sun sacrifices herself every day so things can begin anew. Even though she is consumed, she returns. K’iin is constant like the sun, and greedy beings are like the west, wanting to possess K’iin’s power: the ability to see all.”
I must have been giving him a blank expression, because he shook his head again. “It isn’t for you to seek,” he said. “The chapat’s warning was proof of that. You were never meant to see that image. Do you hear me?”
Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed.
“We have angered the gods!” Kip cried. “Don’t forget your promise.” Then he disappeared into thin air. I whirled to find his greenhouse gone, the labyrinth vanished.
The sky split open and rain poured down on us in sheets.
And just as Rosie and I bolted into the jungle for cover, I heard a bloodcurdling scream.
As I followed Rosie toward the sound, the rain turned to snow, which must have really freaked out the trees. So much for a perfect seventy-four degrees, I thought as my godborn positioning system kicked in, a cold sensation tugging me to the right.
Angry voices flew toward us.
A girl shouted, “Hit him!”
Rosie and I stumbled through the whitening jungle until we came to a multiterraced courtyard filled with dining tables and chairs. From where we stood, on the uppermost level, I could see tables covered with plates of half-eaten breakfasts: bacon, eggs, fruit, donuts, and other items. On the lowest tier, a dozen or so godborns were gathered under a clump of trees. The rascal monkeys hovered in the branches above, clapping and chomping their teeth.
And in the center? Marco and some tall dude who definitely hadn’t been on my godborn tour. Which meant he must’ve been part of the junkyard battle. The two of them had their fists up and were circling each other like careful wolves, waiting to see who would make the first move.
My eyes darted everywhere, but I didn’t see any of my friends. Maybe they were still in the library? Louie stood off to the side, and even from this twenty-foot distance, I could tell he was trembling as he ate a Storm Runner candy bar.
Marco quickly wiped some snowflakes from his eyes. “Stop with the storm already, Louie!”
“I can’t help it,” Louie said. “I don’t like fights.”
Louie was causing the storm? His dad was Chaac, the god of rain, but Louie hadn’t even been trained yet.
“Punch him already!” someone commanded.
A gust of wind swept across the courtyard along with a more frenzied flurry of snow.
Everyone looked up, blinking against the instant winter.
“Hey!” I shouted.
No one reacted—they were too engrossed in the fight.
“Go find everyone, Rosie,” I said. “Bring them here.”
She took off into the forest.
With Fuego’s help, I hurried down to the fray, pushing through the small crowd that was munching on donuts, bagels, and burritos.
“Look!” someone called out. “It’s Zane Obispo!”
I stepped between Marco and the tall dude just as a fist was thrown.
Bam!
The knuckles landed squarely on my jaw, driving me to my knees. White stars danced in my vision, blood filled my mouth, and my skull felt like it had been crushed with a hammer.
That’s when everything descended into chaos. Bagels were flung. Then donuts, bacon, and fruit. Before I knew it, soggy food was showering down faster than the snow.
Feet shuffled; hollers and grunts sounded. People were shoving and tripping one another, ducking and dodging. Monkeys shrieked and swung from the trees as the snow thickened. It was total mayhem, and for what?
Wiping blood off my lip with the back of my hand, I managed to crouch-stagger away from the wayward fists and flying bananas. I really wanted to launch some flames, but we were too close to the trees. A powdered-sugar donut smacked my cheek just as an earsplitting roar sounded.
Everyone froze—except the monitos, who vanished into the trees.
Hondo stood at the edge of the pandemonium with a grim expression and Rosie at his side. “Who started this?”
It really was ironic. I mean, here was the guy who used to throw ragers and watch wrestling matches with his friends through clouds of cigar smoke. And now he was acting like some kind of…adult?
The tall dude, who had grape jelly smeared across his face, pointed at Marco. “This jerk. He threw the first punch.”
At that moment, the thing I hated most about Marco was his punch-now-ask-questions-later attitude. It was his fist that had knocked me to the ground, and the guy didn’t even look sorry.
“You guys want to fight?” Hondo said to the entire group. “You’ve got extra energy to spend? All godborns to the arena—now!”
“But training doesn’t start until tomorrow,” someone said.
“Yeah?” Hondo’s jaw looked like it was set in stone. “Well, tomorrow came early.”
Everyone hesitated, bits of food dripping from their faces. Then Rosie, with eyes blazing, roared so loud, godborn feet got moving rápido.
As everyone filed out, Marco spat a loogie on the littered ground and said to me, “Don’t look at me! He totally deserved it, and you got in the way.”
The tall godborn came at him, but he didn’t connect before Hondo threw up an arm, blocking the guy’s advance. “Dude! I won’t ask again.”
“What about him?” The guy pointed at Marco, who was wearing the kind of smirk everyone wants to wipe off with a double bleach wipe.
“Go!” Hondo warned, pushing his snow-covered hair back.
The guy muttered under his breath and took off while Marco clenched his jaw.
“You okay?” Hondo asked, noticing my fattening lip.
I nodded, opening and closing my jaw as he clapped me on the back. Then, with a snicker and raised fists, he teased, “Did you have to box it out with the miniature monkeys?”
“Ha! Funny,” I said. “But we don’t have time for this. I found chapat.”
“What’s chapat?” Marco asked.
Hondo exhaled and turned to Marco. “Why are you still here?”
Marco stepped closer, his chin turned up all defiant. “Something creepy happened,” he said, looking around. “And since I don’t see anyone in charge, I guess you guys should know about it.”
Louie stepped out from behind a tree, a miniature monkey on his shoulder. He was feeding it scraps of chocolate. For the first time, I noticed the snow had stopped.
“Marco was sticking up for me,” he said, and the monkey nodded vigorously. “That guy was making fun of my dream about Chaac. I saw the rain god opening and closing his mouth like a fish.” He mimicked the movement. “He was drowning in darkness.”
Drowning in darkness…The words were eerily close to what Ah-Puch had said about floating in utter darkness.
“So you had a bad dream,” Hondo said.
Marco snorted. “We all had the same dream. Or close enough.”
“Who’s all?” I asked, taking deep breaths to prevent my heart from flying out of my mouth.