The Serpent Passage

“I had hoped to reach the great cenote by this time,” Priest Quisac said. “We must conserve our water supply until then.”

“Can we make a fire?” William asked. He set his pack beside a tree and used it as a pillow to lean against.

“I know it is dark, but we do not wish to attract the attention of others at this point in our journey. You will find the light within your dreams.”

“But you promised to tell me about that legend… of the Serpent Passage.”

“That I did,” Priest Quisac said. “However, rather than tell you in my own words, I will channel the story to you from the voice of a Serpent Priest who has long since left this plane. He spoke the legend to me when I was very young, just as it was told to him when he was a child.”

“Oh, cool.”

The Serpent Priest sat cross-legged and took several deep breaths. His silver eyes rolled back, reflecting a reddish glow from the bloodstone radiating off William’s chest. “In memory of this day, of baktuns past, let it be known,” Priest Quisac said in a strange voice as vivid images began appearing in William’s mind. “On the day of the longest night, a creature arrived in our land. From the Sacred Cavern of Jade, came he. Standing as a man, was he-with skin of a lizard and hair of feathers. Came he to be known as Gukumatz, the feathered serpent. Come, did he say, to harvest his crops and to collect his seeds.”

Priest Quisac let out a heavy sigh and then continued channeling. “Gukumatz was not pleased, for his crops had not flourished. Sent, did he, the chupacabras into the world, to destroy the last of the Olmec-to break the skulls and collect the seeds. In another world was his home, said he. On the day of the longest day, Gukumatz left our land. Through the Serpent Passage, went he. Thus it be known, in memory of this day, of baktuns past.”

Priest Quisac slumped back, shook his head, and spoke in his own voice again. “That is the legend told to me,” he said, while giving William a curious stare. “Tell me now… what are your thoughts on this legend?”

While chewing on a piece of dried meat from his rations, William mulled it over for a long while, still seeing the image of the strange serpent creature in his head. “Are the feathered serpents real?”

“They are physical beings that live beneath our world. I have not encountered one for many tuns.”

“You mentioned chupacabras,” William said. “My grandfather blames the chupacabras for anything really bad that happens… like when his horse died… or when my leftover birthday cake disappeared.”

“All legends have an origin of truth,” Priest Quisac said. He retrieved his cotton mat from his pack, rolled it out, and lied down. William did the same, and they both gazed into the stars. “What else did you gather from the legend?” the Serpent Priest asked.

“Well… the legend said Gukumatz arrived on the day of the longest night. That’s the winter solstice… the longest night of the year. He returned home on the day of the longest day. That’s the summer solstice… the longest day of the year.”

“It is indeed. That is also the very day you arrived from the Serpent Passage-the day of the summer solstice.”

William wished he had his watch to double check, but he had given it to Yax. “I’m not sure of the exact date I arrived.”

“The night you made your appearance on the temple was the evening of the summer solstice,” Priest Quisac said with confidence. “It is why the sacrifices were planned for that night.”

“It has to be the same place,” William said, remembering their journey underwater, and the serpent carvings he saw on both ends of the tunnel. “We went through the Serpent Passage!”

After further discussion of the legend, they agreed that Gukumatz traveled to the future on the day of the winter solstice to harvest something he had planted in the race of the Olmecs. He then went back in time on the day of the summer solstice to return with the seeds he had collected.

“It’s the opposite of my problem,” William said. “My home is in the future, while his home was in the past. But what were the seeds that Gukumatz wanted to collect from the skulls of the Olmec?”

“That is not known,” the Serpent Priest said. “This occurred near the end of the Olmec civilization, many baktuns ago, and it led to their demise.”

William rolled onto his side and regarded the Serpent Priest. “That’s too bad for the Olmec… but great news for me! If the legend is true, it means I can go back to my own time. I just have to wait for the winter solstice, and…” He slapped his hand to his forehead. “But the Serpent Passage is underwater… and those crocodiles ate my scuba gear!”

“Let us sleep on the matter,” the Serpent Priest said, with a yawn. “Perhaps we will discover a solution between now and the coming solstice.”

William wondered how long he could hold his breath, and he practiced as he lied there. However, the day’s strenuous activities caught up with him, and when he let out his held breath, William fell asleep.

After a quick breakfast before sunrise, they were back on their feet and plodding down the plaster trail again. About an hour along, the Cenote Azul came into view. William smiled at the lake, somehow feeling comforted by his connection to it. “In my time, there’s a restaurant over there,” William said, pointing to his left as they neared the water’s edge.

Priest Quisac scanned the vicinity, looking concerned.

“Is something wrong?” William asked.

“The great cenote is blessed every morning at dawn. I had expected to find the brothers of the Solar Cult here.” He shot a look down the trail as approaching voices could be heard.

“Is that them?”

“Silence!” Priest Quisac whispered. “We must hide.”

They ducked behind the brush at the water’s edge just as six warriors armed with spears came around the bend in the trail. One of the warriors seemed to hear something. He shouted to the others, and they ran down the trail, heading in the direction that he and Priest Quisac had just traveled earlier that morning.

“Who were those guys?” William asked.

“Calakmul warriors. They are hunting. We must wait for them to return to Bacalar before proceeding.”

“What are they doing in Bacalar?”

Priest Quisac shook his head. “It is what we must find out.”

A couple hours passed as they sat there on the damp ground, under the cover of the tall grass. They remained still, listening with extreme concentration for any sign of the returning warriors.

William became antsy just waiting there, swatting at mosquitoes. The collective buzz of insects became annoying too, like the hum of a smoke detector going off in the distance. He began to think the warriors weren’t coming back. “Maybe they were just passing through,” William whispered.

The Serpent Priest raised his hand in a gesture to be quiet, tilting his head toward the trail. “No, they are coming. Be still.”

He couldn’t hear anything at first, but then footsteps and chatter became audible. William crouched lower. The warrior’s conversation had a jubilant tone as they neared. They laughed with each other as they filled their jugs from the lake. Their voices faded into the distance as they departed back up the trail toward Bacalar.

Priest Quisac glanced at William. “They killed a boar and spoke of a feast tonight. The King of Calakmul likely dispatched a team to capture the village before the priests could escape with the sacred items.”

They picked up their packs, shuffled through the brush, and filled their jugs from the cenote. William stripped down to his loin cloth and slipped into the water to get refreshed. “There must be a lot of warriors there… to overthrow Bacalar,” he said as he climbed out of the lake.

Priest Quisac shook his head. “Bacalar is no longer the powerful nation it once was. Only the brothers of the Solar Cult remain. The strength of our people-the Itzae-now resides in Chichen Itza.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We must learn what happened to the priests in Bacalar. However, our priority is to retrieve the sacred items.”

William pulled on his headdress and sandals, and wrapped a short leathery cape over his shoulders. “There