“Rabbit?” Myr’s face was the first thing he saw in the too-bright sunlight when he awakened, her hand the first thing he reached for. Relief flooded her features and she gripped his fingers for a moment, then pulled away to call over her shoulder, “Hey! He’s back!”
There was a shuffle of movement around him, and then Dez appeared in Rabbit’s field of vision. After a quick once-over, the king grabbed his arm and hauled him up. “What happened?”
Irritation rattled. “Jeez, give me a . . .” He trailed off at the sight of an armed encampment surrounding him. The equipment had been broken out and dug in, surveillance was up and running, and there were warriors positioned along the perimeter, watching the temple, the tree line, the sky, and Red-Boar, who sat near the temple with his hands tied behind his back, tethered to one of the jaguar pillars. More, the air sang with power . . . and Rabbit’s chrono said 1:28:08. “Fuck me.”
He’d been out for more than an hour.
Myr said, “Talk to us. Did you have another vision?”
“Yeah. This time it was different, though. This time, I got what the true gods have been trying to tell me.” To Dez—to all of them—he said, “We’re in the wrong place. We need to go to Chichen Itza. . . . and when we get there, we need to use Scarred-Jaguar’s spell to seal the barrier.”
Myr gasped and took a step back, and a ripple of “Oh, hell, no” flung away from them and raced through the encampment, like he’d just dropped a boulder in a kiddie pool. Which he pretty much had.
Dez froze for a split second, but then his face went thunderous. Moving in, he grabbed Rabbit’s shirt and got in his face to hiss, “Godsdamn it, don’t you dare. Not fucking now.”
Rabbit snapped, “You think I want this? You think—” He broke off, seeing that the other man’s anger was more defensive than anything. Dez didn’t want to believe he was going to be the second king to lead the Nightkeepers into battle at Chichen Itza on the strength of some dreams, didn’t want to think about enacting the same spell that had wiped out their parents. Let the brick shitting begin. “Think about it,” Rabbit said, taking it down a notch, but all too aware of the seconds flickering on his wristband. “That’s why the kohan haven’t attacked us here. They don’t give a damn what we’re doing as long as we’re not at the intersection.”
“This is the intersection.”
“It’s a decoy. They wanted us to think Iago destroyed the real intersection at Chichen Itza, but he didn’t. The sacred chamber is still there, sunk deep in the cenote.” Rabbit paused. “I think that’s why I’m so important. I’m the only telekinetic left. It’s my weakest talent, but if I give it everything I’ve got, I should be able to bring the altar back up to the surface.” He looked at Myr. “I think the dreams—”
“Bullshit!” JT shouted from the edge of the crowd. “This is bullshit! This is the intersection. This is where we’re supposed to be.” There were a few angry nods and a holler of “We didn’t sign on for this!”
Dez’s hackles rose. “Renouncing the kohan was optional, not the rest of it. This isn’t a fucking democracy, and when you agreed to come here, you put yourself under my orders. There’s only one leader in this army, and it’s me.”
“They’re not your orders. They’re his.” JT glared at Rabbit. “And none of us signed on to follow him.” The two of them had fought together, hung together, had some good times together, but the rebel winikin was looking at him now like he was the enemy.
Rabbit tried not to blame him, but anger kicked in his gut, dark and ugly. “I’m not ordering anybody to do anything. I’m just telling you what I know.”
“You don’t know dick. You dreamed it, just like Scarred-Jaguar.”
“It was a vision; there’s a difference. And I wasn’t in the king’s head this time. I pictured myself standing at the edge of the cenote, and it was like I could see down to the very bottom. I saw the altar down there, felt its magic. More, when I heard the spell, I understood it.” He paused, voice going urgent. “The magic doesn’t just seal the barrier, it connects the other two realms to each other, so the kohan and the kax can duke it out themselves, leaving the earth out of the mix completely.”
“This could be another kohan lie,” JT said, almost desperately, “another distraction.”
Myr said, “Rabbit didn’t hear the spell until after he renounced the kohan. What if the dreams have been the true gods trying to reach him, but they couldn’t get through because the kohan were interfering? Maybe the true gods were trying to get through to Scarred-Jaguar, too, but since he was still bound to the kohan, still praying to them, the interference was even worse. More, the kax and the kohan knew the king’s plan. They were waiting for him.”
JT made a face. “If Rabbit said the sky was purple, you’d back him up on it.”
“Hey!” Rabbit took a step toward the winikin, fists clenched, anger pumping suddenly through him, looking for an outlet. “Don’t you dare—”
“Enough!” Dez bellowed, cutting through the rising din. In the sudden silence, he seemed huge and golden, every inch their king. “You,” he forked a finger at Rabbit. “Dial it down. You”—this time he pointed at JT—“either shut up, or get the fuck out of here.” He glared around the muttering crowd. “Same goes for the rest of you. I said this isn’t a democracy, and it’s not. But I’ll be damned if I go into battle with soldiers I can’t trust.” He paused. “Look, I know you’re scared. We all are. But pretending this is where we’re supposed to be isn’t going to save us. We need to move, and we need to do it now. So go if you’re going. Otherwise, link up. Next stop: Chichen Itza.”
Rabbit exhaled a tight breath. Thank fuck.
“No!” Red-Boar surged to his feet and flung himself to the end of his rope. “This is the intersection! This is where the gods are going to meet us!”
“Don’t worry. You’re staying.” Dez grabbed Red-Boar’s ceremonial knife off a nearby stack of ammo, and tossed it to the mage. It fell at his feet, pinging on the stones. “It shouldn’t take you too long to cut yourself free.” Waving for the others to join hands, he checked his chrono and swore. “Hurry up. We’re burning time.”
“Nooo!” Red-Boar howled, raising a booted foot over his knife. “Gods help me! Please!” Then he slammed his foot down on the etched stone blade, shattering it.
Magic detonated from the powerful sacrifice, and the air tore with a sickly rriiip, showing the gray-green of the barrier beyond.
“Shit.” Rabbit put himself in front of Myrinne, casting a shield around them both. She readied a fireball, and he did the same as other spells sprang to life.
A figure came through the gap, solidifying when it stepped onto the earth plane. Fully eight feet tall, it was a giant Mayan warrior in full regalia, wearing a cape of woven leaves and a huge headdress of cornstalks and silk.
“It’s the maize god,” Anna cried. “A kohan!”
The king didn’t hesitate. “Fire!”
A salvo of fireballs seared toward the maize god, but they deflected, slamming into the earth around the creature.
Red-Boar didn’t notice. “Tell them!” He begged the kohan, spittle flecking from his mouth. “Tell them they have to stay here and have faith! I tried. You saw how hard I tried, but—” He broke off, eyes bugging as gray- green fog erupted from the ground beneath him. His face blanked with horror. “No! You promised! You told me I could have my family back if I did what you said.”
“You failed . . . and we lied.” The words sounded in Rabbit’s head, as Bastet’s had done.
Red-Boar went to his knees in the fog. “Where’s my Cassie? Where are my sons? Please. Give them to me.”
“They are in the barrier, imprisoned along with generations of their kin. As you shall be, held ready to march for us when the barrier falls.” The rip in the barrier grew wider and the fog began drawing back inward.
“The nahwal,” Myr whispered in horror. “Your ancestors’ souls didn’t stay in the barrier to be your advisers. They’re prisoners of the kohan!”
“Fire again!” Dez shouted, and the Nightkeepers blasted another concerted volley. But it was no use. Their magic couldn’t penetrate the kohan’s shield.
“No!” Red-Boar shouted. “Don’t! Please, gods, don’t!” He surged up, tried to run, hit the end of his bonds, and fell. He screamed as the fog covered him, flowing through the tear in the barrier. For a second, the nahwal were visible beyond the gap—naked and genderless, with shiny skin and eerie black eyes. Always before, the ancestral beings had looked peaceful, otherworldly and faintly disdainful. Now, though, their eyes were wide and
