“These kids’ve been separated from their parents for years. Before that they lived a simple life, mostly farming and fishing the rivers. The volcano causes them problems, like she’s bubbling now, and they expect her to rumble any day. These are bad signs. Lightning storms and volcano activity, and now you’ve appeared.” He hesitated. “I think this is as far as we go. They don’t want us with them; we’re bringing them trouble.”
Max was not going to be pressured by Flint. He looked around the camp; these youngsters had survived without their parents for years. If they could do that, then so could he. He needed to stay with them as long as it took to find the truth about his mother’s death.
“Flint, you can ask them to take you wherever you want to go, but I want to stay with them until we find out how my mother died and what’s happened to their parents.”
“Son, you don’t hold any sway over these people. You don’t mean nothin’ to them. They don’t want us around. Let’s just try to get out of here in one piece.”
Max knew he had to convince Tree Walker and Setting Star. There was only one way to do that. He had to tell them what he had experienced when he was in Africa. What he had told no one before. They needed to know about the shape-shifting and his animal instincts. What he did not know was whether this would frighten or anger them. Could his experiences be some kind of insult to Mayan beliefs?
“I need them on my side, Flint. Tell them my
Flint nervously licked his lips. “You start talking about the spirit world, about things supernatural, and you’re pushing a stick into a hornet’s nest. People like me and them, we take that kind of thing seriously. Don’t fool with it; it’s dangerous.”
There was an uneasy moment of silence as the children looked to Flint and then to Max. They sensed uncertainty and perhaps discord. Xavier realized Max could be stepping into a world he knew nothing about and for the first time sided with Flint.
“Max,” he said quietly but pointedly, “listen to Flint. He’s right. You can’t mess with that stuff. I know what I said last night, but you tell these people somethin’ like that and they’re gonna expect you to show your hand. That’s shaman stuff; you can’t pretend with that. Come on,
“You tell them that I have gone through the tunnel of death. I have been to the other side and I came back. I have flown as an eagle and run as a jackal, and I have touched the spirit of the jaguar. My
Xavier was stunned into silence. Flint got to his feet, as if to strike Max. He held his ground because something told him this strange English boy who had survived in this lethal wilderness was telling the truth. It was in his eyes.
“Tell them,” Max said.
As Flint spoke of Max’s shape-shifting experiences, the children fell silent and the looping calls of the jungle birds were all that could be heard. It was Setting Star who spoke first. She faced her brother and then the other children who got to their feet. Perhaps, Max thought, it was Setting Star who had the voice of the group.
“She says she believes you are a shaman and that they will help,” Flint said. “Their own parents were taken by the Serpent Warriors. Somewhere beyond the hummingbird god. It’s already killed a couple of the kids who tried to escape through the mountains.”
“Ask them about my mum. She was around here somewhere.” He gave the pictures to Tree Walker and his sister. “Was my mum with them? Was she taken as well?”
Flint asked the questions again and Tree Walker answered. Max listened to Flint’s translation.
“There’s a story about a white woman. She came in with a guide, but the woman got taken to the pyramid temple.”
Fear and hope mingled in Max’s heart. “Flint, don’t you see? That has to be where she was. You’ve seen the pictures.”
Flint shrugged. He did not want to tear apart Max’s hope. He glanced at Xavier, who sat listening.
“Cousin, it’s time for a reality check. Best thing we can do is get out of here. There has to be a way. We can’t go back through the cave-those guys will still be there. We gotta let these kids help us, yeah? There’s some really bad guys in here.”
Setting Star held one of the photographs toward Max. Her voice held regret. Max took the photograph back.
“She says this is near a temple of the Serpent Warriors. If your mother was there … then … well, then she wouldn’t have survived. That’s where they sacrifice anyone captured.”
Max felt the flutter of panic in his throat and chest. Terrible images of ritual killing flashed in his mind. And Mum. No! Was that why his dad had run?
“I don’ like the sound of these Serpent Warriors, cousin,” Xavier said.
Max’s hand trembled as he tucked the photograph away. He spoke directly to them as Flint translated. “My mother is dead. I know that. I want to know what happened to her. I need your help. I will not leave until I find the truth. Nothing else matters to me.”
As Flint translated, Tree Walker still seemed unconvinced, but he nodded when Setting Star touched his arm and answered Flint.
“They can take you only so far. They won’t go anywhere near the temples,” Flint said.
It was a small success. Max felt a surge of victory.
Three heartbeats.
One-Max saw a jaguar at the far edge of the clearing; then it disappeared into the forest.
Two-the birds fell silent.
Three-bloodcurdling screams shattered the stillness.
Then a sudden cacophony of conch-shell horns and wooden trumpets blasted the air as bass drums, like heart-stopping thunder, rolled through the trees. The forest edge shivered and changed shape as hordes of warriors yelled their battle cries and charged into the clearing. They were terrifying. Faces painted red and black, they wore plumes of feathers on greenstone-studded helmets and god masks of jungle creatures. All were armed with shields and flint-tipped weapons. Shrunken heads of victims slain in bygone wars dangled from their embroidered, sleeveless cotton jackets. It felt as if demons from hell had been vomited from the underworld.
Children screamed in panic. Tree Walker and Setting Star ran four meters in front of Max and stood firm, gripping their spears and bravely awaiting the charge-it was obvious they were going to defend Max.
Xavier ran, stumbled and tried to make himself small. Flint chewed through his cigarette, pulled his knife and awaited death. The blurred unreality of it all spilled across Max’s vision.
The horde of warriors surged forward, and Max did not flinch. Was it a moment of insanity? He was the eye of the storm. Still. Unmoving.
And then he yelled, “Don’t run! Don’t fight!”
Tree Walker and Setting Star turned at the sound of his voice. They did not understand his words, but the way Max stood-arms extended in a pacifying gesture, feet planted firm-told them everything. He was like a tree: rooted, un-moveable. Doubt momentarily crossed their faces. Then they shouted their commands. The children, and Flint, looked back to Max.
Somehow it all made sense. Why Max had stood his ground no one knew-perhaps pure instinct-but battle warriors would find no honor in killing someone who did not resist. Bloodthirsty slaughter may have been part of their heritage, but Max’s action stopped their leader from his advance. The surge stopped. The drums and trumpets fell silent.
Tree Walker and his sister ushered the children into retreat behind Max as a phalanx of warriors strode closer. Then they, too, stopped. The cave guardian pointed to Max, and a well-muscled warrior, who was obviously their leader, tentatively came a few paces closer. He lifted the wooden jaguar mask from his face and stared at Max.
The energy of the charge had eased into an uncanny silence. The warriors from the forest rippled as if the breeze brushed them. It was anticipation. Would their leader try to kill the Stone Serpent’s
Max’s fear seeped away. He felt strangely in control of his emotions. His legs had trembled when the attack started, his hands had sweated when he lifted the spear shaft, and his throat had dried seconds before he had spoken.
