“And that pile of skulls outside the wall?”
He shrugged. “Maybe a warning to trespassers to stay away.”
A warning, huh? It hadn’t kept her from climbing the wall, unfortunately for the rest of her crew.
He pointed themacuahuitlat Quint. “The lords ofXibalbado not want another death for all men. That is why they sent one of their own demons. This one is meant to keep the balance on the Earthly layer.”
“How do you know this if many of the events happened before you were born—the first time?”
“I have walked this realm for a very long time. I have seen much, talked to many, and found others who have been reborn again and again.” He stared at Quint for several seconds in silence. “Tell the demon he must follow through with the ritual once it has begun.”
“And if he resists?”
“Camazotzwill be angry. Death for many will surely follow.”
She nodded, took themacuahuitlfrom KuTu, and handed it off to Quint. “Good news, Parker,” she returned to English. “KuTu believes the weapon he made might help you save the world from the wrath ofCamazotz.”
Quint quirked an eyebrow. “And you believe him?”
“I believe that he believes it.”
His gaze narrowed. “That’s not what I asked.”
“Well, that’s all I have for an answer, at least until we see what’s waiting for us inside the House of Bats.”
Part Seven: THE HOUSE OF BATS
“The world will not end. It will be transformed.”
~Carlos Barrios
Chapter Twenty-Four
Quint fell in line behind KuTu, letting the old king lead the way to the bat-house ruin.
Meanwhile, he practiced swinging themacuahuitl, hefting it back and forth between his hands, testing his grip on the leather-wrapped haft, and feeling the weight of the Maya equivalent of a broad sword before he was forced to use it.
The length of the weapon had to be close to three feet, maybe more. It was lighter than he’d figured it would be, but heavier than a baseball bat. What kind of wood had KuTu used? The piece must have been carved from a local tree. Something relatively easy to cut and carve into a cricket bat shape during his shift on guard each night. Unless KuTu had brought it in ahead of time and stashed it somewhere, unbeknownst to Raul and Bronko.
The triangular, obsidian blades embedded into both sides of the wooden weapon reminded Quint of shark teeth—sharp with serrated edges. The blades would rip a foe open when struck, and then a sawing motion would cut even deeper. What had KuTu used to fix the blades into place? At a glance, it looked and smelled like some kind of dark pitch or tar, sticky to the touch.
“Well, what do you think?” Angélica whispered from behind him. “Will it fell an army of bats?”
“Maybe in the right hands.” He lowered the weapon, carrying it at his side. “I just wish we knew for certain that my hands are the ones for the job.”
KuTu slowed, looking back. He covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head. Then he blocked the beam of his light with his palm, allowing only enough light through to see where he was walking.
Order received, KingKuTu!
Truth be told, Quint was still having trouble accepting the guard’s sad reincarnation tale as anything more than a recurring psychotic hallucination. But … in the dark, eerily silent jungle where the shadows kept playing tricks on his rationality, he was glad to have a blade-lined bat at his side.
Quint eased up behind KuTu and killed his own light.
They stood at the edge of the clearing in front of the single-story ruin and nearby sunken temple. The light of the moon shined down in bright silver rays. Rotting fruit looked like small rocks peppering the ground. Nothing moved on the jungle floor, at least nothing that Quint could see, and thank the Maya gods for that.
In the back of his mind, a cloud of unease about what they’d find waiting for them outside the bat-house had been mushrooming with every step.
He should have confirmed with Angélica if thisCamazotzgod from the Maya myths was of flesh and blood. Or was it some kind of wraith that could choose when to take shape and when to turn into smoke? Or just a ghost, like Marianne?
