Demonkeepers

held spiked cudgels and wore knives on their belts. Kinich Ahau stood alone on the other side in the guise of a horned, plumed man, not the firebird. The god wore a feathered robe with hints of glistening armor beneath but held no weapon. There were stone shackles on the god’s wrists and ankles; heavy sinew-

threaded ropes stretched from the cuffs to a stone ring set low on one wall. A man’s head lay on the ground between the two teams, wide-eyed and staring, with fluid leaking from the stump. Lucius thought it might have belonged to the musician, who was nowhere in sight.

Oh, he thought. Of course.

He must’ve said it aloud, because as he and Jade scrambled to their feet, she whispered, “What is it?”

The players, locked in a preplay stare-down, seemed oblivious to the newcomers, but Lucius figured he didn’t dare count on how long that would last. Keeping his voice low, he said, “One of the creation stories in the Popol Vuh describes how the Hero Twins journeyed to the underworld and played ball against the Banol Kax themselves. If the dark lords won, the twins would be stuck forever in Xibalba.

But if the twins won, their father would be reincarnated on Earth and they would be free to return with him. Akhenaton must not be able to rule the sky in his makol form. In order to take his place in the sky, he has to defeat Kinich Ahau and be reincarnated on Earth.”

A soul-curdling fanfare sounded from all around them, and the players scrambled to gain control of the game ball. The sun god lunged and hit the end of his tether, which stopped him several paces shy of the ball. The horned god shrieked with rage, the firebird’s cry coming from the man’s mouth as a snake- headed warrior snagged the ball.

Jade whispered, “Does that mean that if Kinich Ahau wins, he automatically returns to Earth?”

“That’d be consistent with the legend. Not much chance of that, though, unless—” Lucuis broke off as transport magic surged again, the air rippled nearby, and the sun god’s companions materialized midlunge. The big hellhounds hit the ground running, baying the attack. And all hell broke loose.

Akhenaton whirled toward the threat. His fury laced the air as he split his team, sending the guards after Kinich Ahau, the animal-heads toward Jade and Lucius, who had landed maybe thirty yards farther down the playing field, on the sun god’s side. The companions bolted toward Kinich Ahau; the sun god jerked its plumed head toward Jade and Lucius. Its eyes were anguished.

The animal-heads closed quickly; there were two snakes and three caimans, reptilian jaws gaping wide. Lucius stepped in front of Jade, suddenly feeling very human. But they’d damn well have to go through him to get to her.

“Down!” she yelled from behind him.

When a chill touched the back of his neck, he didn’t waste time asking questions or arguing; he pancaked it.

The air snapped freezing cold and a deep-throated roar of power sizzled through the space he’d just been occupying. An iceball the size of a MINI Cooper flashed at the animal-heads; it hit with a big whump, the ground heaved, and sand shot in the air. When the debris came back down, there was an ice- lined crater where the animal-heads had been.

Lucius flipped to his feet, mouth hanging open. “Holy shit.”

Jade was pale, her eyes huge in her face, but her expression was resolute. “We need to use the tools we’re given, right?” She sagged a little, and when he took her arm, she leaned into him. The iceball had drained her more than he liked, but she was up and moving, and ready to fight.

The gods got it wrong, he thought. She’s a warrior. Always has been.

Motion on the field of play caught his attention; two of the guards were heading for them, leveling those damned long pikes as dark magic rattled low at the threshold of hearing. The remaining guards were passing the decapitated head as they ran toward the sun god, aiming for the hoop high on the wall.

If they made the basket, it was all over.

“You’ve got to block that shot!” Jade shoved him toward the field. “Go. I’ll be right behind you!”

Lucius wanted to stay with her, to hold her close and shield her, but he couldn’t. Not right now.

She’s a fighter , he reminded himself. She’s got your back . It was strange to realize that he’d never thought that about her before. He’d seen her as his friend and his lover, his adversary and his ideal, but never before as a teammate. Locking eyes with her, he said, “You can do this.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m tougher than I look.”

“About time you figured that out.” He flashed her a smile. And took off running.

Head down, he barreled into the first of Akhenaton’s guards, taking the brunt of the blow on his armored shoulder. It was like running into a side of beef mounted on a house. His shoulder sang with pain, while the other guy barely blinked, just raised his spiked cudgel and swung for his head.

Jade screamed his name. Then, inexplicably, she whistled a short, sharp burst, as though calling a taxi.

Lucius ducked, cursing when dark magic dug bloody furrows across his bare shoulder. A second guard arrived as the first raised his weapon for the killing blow. But before the guard could let loose with the magic, a growling black blur slammed into him from the side. Moments later a second snarling creature joined the fray. The companions! Summoned by Jade’s whistle, the big black creatures drove the guards away, giving Lucius time to scramble to his feet.

He looked for her and his blood froze in his veins when he saw that she was headed straight into the scrum, where Kinich Ahau was down, wrestling with one of the guards. The remaining player and Jade were both zeroing in on the head-ball, which lay inert on the nearby sand.

One of Lucius’s attackers had dropped his pike when the dogs showed up; it had returned to its shorter form and no longer shimmered with dark magic. Instead it looked like a short, wickedly spiked club. Lucius grabbed the heavy weapon and bolted toward the field of play as Jade grabbed the head.

The guardsmen of the other team converged on her as Lucius shouted, “Jade! ”

Her head whipped around; she saw him and yelled, not his name or for help, but, “Here!” She threw him the head. A split second later, one of the guards tackled her, taking her down.

Lucius caught the head on the fly; the thing weighed more than he would’ve expected, and was slippery. He wound up grabbing it by the hair. Then he hesitated. The hoop on the opposite side of the court was unguarded. It was far above him, an almost impossible shot.

If he made it, he would return Kinich Ahau to Earth. But in doing so, he would lose Jade. Gods, Jade.

The writs told him to save the world. His heart told him to save his woman.

“Fuck it. Catch! ” He hurled the head to the sun god, aware that the game was fixed, that the god’s bonds wouldn’t allow it close enough to score the vital point, barely allowed it to guard its own hoop.

“Don’t let them have it. I’ll be right back.” He hoped the god understood English, or at least his intent.

Without looking to see if Kinich Ahau had gotten the head—or the message—Lucius spun and lunged toward Jade—

And stopped dead. The guards held her immobilized as Akhenaton’s dark shadow drifted toward her. The ghost soul lost its form as it approached, becoming amorphous, insidious. Lucius flashed hard on the memory of a dark shadow entering him, filling him up, making the world go green.

“No! ” he shouted, his voice cracking on a howl that was echoed in the companions’ voices. Behind him chaos erupted as the animal- heads finished regenerating from whatever molecules had been left after the ice explosion, and rejoined the fray.

Duty, ambition, and his need to make a difference in the world said he needed to play the game, needed to save the sun. Duty, he decided, could go fuck itself. Turning his back on the game, on the god, Lucius gripped the spiked cudgel, though he knew it wouldn’t do any good against a shadow. He could think of only one thing that could go up against a demon on its own turf.

Another demon.