collapsing. It slammed against the side of the pit, and William dropped the sacred weapon. He held onto the poles as the flaming tower fell apart. Ash and broken timber separated them as they tumbled into the pit.
The last chupacabra climbed out of the rubble, howling from its injuries; it was charred, with yellow blood oozing out its wounds. Its ugly face jerked left and right, as though it was searching for its next target. When it spotted Priest Quisac crawling up from the brush, its black tongue whipped out, latching onto his neck.
William snatched his dagger and hacked loose a branch that had pinned him against the side of the pit. He charged the beast with his dagger; the chupacabra’s black eyes rolled his way, growling when it caught sight of him. He grabbed its thick tongue and sliced it in half. Priest Quisac fell over; blood sprayed out the severed end of the tongue still attached to his neck. The chupacabra screeched and retracted its tongue. William held on with a firm grip as its tongue pulled him in.
As they reached one another, William lifted his obsidian dagger and rammed it deep into the creature’s forehead; it sounded like a walnut cracking. The chupacabra howled as it clawed at the dagger stuck in its skull, unable to pull it free. Yellow blood dripped down its face, while its cut tongue sprayed out gallons of red blood, flopping around like a garden hose with the faucet turned on full blast-seeming to release all the blood it had consumed in recent days.
The chupacabra fell onto its back and convulsed on the ground. Priest Quisac staggered forward and rammed a spear through the beast’s chest. He jabbed at it again and again, until it stopped moving. The Serpent Priest stumbled to his knees, looking dizzy as he held pressure against the bite mark on his neck.
William plopped down beside him, and they both sat there, in the smoky pit, covered with all kinds of blood and muck from the creatures they had just killed, watching the collapsed tower burning around them. They were exhausted; it took some time before they had energy to stand.
They crawled up to the surface, coughing from the smoke. While lying on the plaster floor and gazing into the stars, William thought about Priest Quisac’s notion that his being there was part of some cosmic blueprint. But considering how things turned out-leading up to being chased around by bloodsucking monsters-he couldn’t help but laugh at the insanity of it all. “Priest Quisac, when we first met, you made me promise to help your people. But Dzibanche has collapsed.”
“Kingdoms will come and go. Your destiny is to help the people who still remain in these lands.” The Serpent Priest looked in the direction of the North Star. “Priest Hexel gave his life to deliver an important message.”
“What message?” William asked.
“The momentum of the
William remembered what Priest Hexel had said just before he died-that they needed to make a new Tree of Life in the north to protect Chichen Itza. He also said that King Kukulcan had started a building project that would somehow benefit the people in the future, too. Even the grey men-their supposed brothers from the stars-had said that the bloodstone had to be healed to protect the region.
It all came down to one final challenge, William realized. To help the people for generations to come, the bloodstone had to be cleansed of the curse on the night of the eclipse. He glanced at the moon. It felt like the full weight of the bright object was sitting on his shoulders, as he contemplated the magnitude of the approaching celestial event.
Chapter Eighteen
After the exhausting encounter with the chupacabras, combined with the sleepless night hiding in the bunker below Yax’s room the night before, William slept for almost twelve hours. His eyes snapped open around noon, and he recalled-as if someone had hung a flashing neon sign on the ceiling of his room-that the lunar eclipse was that very night. He sprang from his bed and hurried to get ready. Mixed emotions crashed like waves through his psyche. Although nervous about the coming sacrifice, he also couldn’t wait to get it over with. With the Resurrection Ritual complete, and the soil plague reversed, William believed he would also be free from the burden of the curse. He could move on with his life… in whatever direction he wanted.
Something had been disturbing William over recent days as well. He felt a longing to kill King Aztuk. The bloodstone craved to draw the life out of the King of Calakmul, to end its curse. That thirst had intensified with the approaching lunar eclipse, and William carried the same sensation with him.
Later that afternoon, they went down to the clearing to wait for the vessel to arrive. William paced around the grassy field, becoming anxious as the sun began to set. “What if they don’t come?” he asked Priest Quisac with a troubled look.
“They will come,” the Serpent Priest said. “They desire the bloodstone to be healed, and this is the only way.”
“Why do they care about the bloodstone? They’ll be leaving our planet soon. What’s in it for them?”
Priest Quisac returned a confused stare. He seemed caught off guard by the question. “I cannot sense the deeper thoughts behind their words, and so I can only assume that, as our ancestors, they wish for our race to thrive here as well. They seem to understand how the bloodstone helps our land to flourish.”
William approached the Serpent Priest with a troubled gaze, feeling apprehensive about the grey men. “Are you
Priest Quisac thought about it, but before he could respond, the familiar buzzing sound distracted their conversation. The dark cloud rolled in over the southern horizon, and an orange flash illuminated the field, leaving three people standing there. William zoned in on Teshna, becoming lost in the curves of her body. He was so happy to see her that the concerns he had voiced to Priest Quisac moments before dissolved with the swiftness of a breath strip melting in his mouth. William rushed across the clearing. He was so captivated by Teshna that it didn’t occur to him that Betty and Yax were there beside her.
William held Teshna for a long moment, as though they had been apart for months rather than days. “I missed you so much,” he said, lifting her off the ground.
“I was going crazy without you,” Teshna whispered in his ear. He gave her a long kiss.
“Hey, there are children around,” Betty said, interrupting them.
Like waking up from a dream, William turned his attention to Betty and Yax, as if they had just materialized.
Betty studied William and Priest Quisac. “You guys look tired. What have you been up to while we were gone?”
William rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you about it later.” He realized that their struggle with the chupacabras still showed on their worn faces. Suddenly, the strange craving for King Aztuk’s life filtered through the bloodstone again, making William feel irritable. “Where is he?”
Yax looked up at the cloud. “They said they would follow after us.”
For a moment, William worried that the grey aliens might renege on their promise to bring the King of Calakmul. But then another burst of light left two grey men in the clearing; they were wearing their tight-fitting suits and bird-faced helmets. Beside them, a large crystalline cylinder-about the size of a carnival dunk tank-sat on a pad. It appeared to be hovering just above the ground. Lights blinked on a panel along its side. William approached and peeked inside.
“Is it really him?” Teshna asked from a safe distance.
William checked closer, pressing his forehead against the glass. He jumped when the stocky body of a Mayan floated near, startling him with an angry expression frozen on his scar-covered face. A dark red glow from the bloodstone lit up the inside of the chamber, casting an amber tint on the man’s face. Tubes were connected to his limbs, like a creature in some freak show. William pressed his hands on the cylinder, craving to kill him. Yet he recognized that the desire was caused by the bloodstone’s deep thirst for the man’s life-to end its curse. William tried to ignore the distracting desires, and he pulled away.
“It is King Aztuk,” Seblinov said, speaking in their minds.
“He floats in a state of suspension,” Jensik said while poking buttons on the side of the cylinder. It began to move forward, and he steered it with the instruments on the control panel.
As darkness settled in, they lit torches to illuminate the trail on the way to the ballcourt. William held
