Sky Knife (20 page)

Yellow Chin raised its head again and stared at Bone Splinter, then Sky Knife. It hesitated a moment, then slithered straight toward Sky Knife, completely disregarding Bone Splinter's attempts to ward it off.

Sky Knife yelped and jumped up onto a bench. Yellow Chin reached the floor beneath the bench more quickly than Sky Knife believed a snake could move. Yellow Chin's head peered up over the rim of the bench. It opened its mouth. Yellow fangs glistened wetly in the faint light in the room.

Bone Splinter leaped forward and grabbed the serpent by the base of the throat. Yellow Chin thrashed, tongue licking the air, but Bone Splinter did not let go. A dull snap, and Yellow Chin went limp except for a tremor in the tip of its tail. Bone Splinter stood holding the body of the serpent, but he did not let it go.

“What? How?” asked Sky Knife. He jumped down off the bench. “That's no true serpent!”

“Like the jaguar,” said Bone Splinter. “Someone has called up an evil spirit in the form of a true animal.”

“Who could do such a thing?” Sky Knife stepped off the bench carefully.

“Not Red Spider, unless he did this before the sacrifice this morning,” said Bone Splinter. Bone Splinter threw the body into the fire. The fire popped and sizzled as it consumed the offering. Sky Knife stepped back from the foul odor of the fire's smoke. The fire burned brightly yellow, then abruptly went out.

“Bolon ti ku,”
whispered Sky Knife through clenched teeth. He held out his hands and concentrated on fire. Energy buzzed through him, causing goose bumps to raise over his arms and shoulders.

Fire leapt from his hands to the firepit and the flames took hold in the wood once again. Bone Splinter's eyebrows shot up. “Impressive,” he said.

“A waste,” said Stone Jaguar from the doorway to the inner rooms. “Why did you do that?”

Sky Knife faltered at the harsh tone in Stone Jaguar's voice. “I … I don't know,” he said.

“Be careful of your power,” said Stone Jaguar a bit more calmly. “You're still new to it. You'll need to practice a great deal before the power becomes easy for you to control. Until then, you should never use your abilities without me to guide you.”

“Of course,” said Sky Knife. “I am sorry.”

Stone Jaguar smiled. He walked over to Sky Knife and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. “Well, perhaps I did something like that, too, when I was a new priest.”

Sky Knife ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Perhaps you would like to know what caused the fire to go out,” said Bone Splinter.

Stone Jaguar said, “Is it important?” though he didn't look at Bone Splinter.

“Yellow Chin,” said Sky Knife. “He was in my room. He followed me out here and tried to attack me. Bone Splinter killed him.”

Stone Jaguar frowned. “Yellow Chin again? Where does Cizin get this kind of power?”

“I don't think it's Cizin,” said Sky Knife. “We found green obsidian in the plaza—on the temple, even. I think Red Spider—and probably several others—have more planned. But I don't know what.”

“Perhaps some of Red Spider's assistants are more than they seem,” said Bone Splinter.

Stone Jaguar glanced at the warrior. He nodded. “Possible,” he said. “But Red Spider will die before the sun sets. His assistants will have to manage whatever they have planned without him.”

“If Red Spider is the man behind our bad luck,” said Bone Splinter.

Stone Jaguar grunted and walked toward the doorway.

“Wait,” said Sky Knife. Stone Jaguar turned to him but said nothing.

“Does … does there have to be a sacrifice tomorrow morning?” asked Sky Knife. The question was awkward, but Sky Knife didn't know if he'd have a chance to ask again.

“You haven't the rank to discuss sacrifices with me,” said Stone Jaguar.

“But Jade Flute…”

Stone Jaguar spat toward the fire. “She is an insolent girl. Let the gods deal with her.”

Anger flared up in Sky Knife's heart. Stone Jaguar didn't care about Jade Flute being a good sacrifice for Tikal—he wanted her dead. “She's not a volunteer,” said Sky Knife. “You should have a volunteer for the sacrifice.”

Stone Jaguar strode forward and slapped Sky Knife across the face. Sky Knife yelped at the unexpected force of Stone Jaguar's blow. His ears rang with the impact.

Sky Knife slipped to his knees. Someone moved in front of him and he flinched.

“Do not touch him again,” said Bone Splinter. “Or I will kill you, priest or no. He has the king's grace.”

“He is just a boy, and under my command,” said Stone Jaguar. “And just as insolent as the girl he's mooning over.”

“Even so,” said Bone Splinter. “Do not touch him again.”

Sky Knife shivered at the cold, flat tone in Bone Splinter's voice. There was no anger, no hate, no fear. Just a kind of calm finality. Sky Knife had no doubt that Bone Splinter would do his best to carry out his threat.

“Bah,” said Stone Jaguar. “Out of my sight, both of you. Jade Flute is just a girl. There are hundreds more in the city, all just as pretty and just as suitable. Choose another. Jade Flute dies at dawn tomorrow. Storm Cloud has agreed.”

Sky Knife said nothing as the older priest left the room, but his heart sank. He had tried, but it hadn't been enough.

Bone Splinter put a hand under Sky Knife's elbow and helped him stand. The tall man said nothing.

Sky Knife took a deep breath. “Time to talk to the cooks, I think,” he said. He plunged into the darkness of the inner corridors of the acropolis, wound his way around to the entrance to the courtyard at the back, where the temple servants ground corn and cooked meals for the priests and attendants of the temple.

Several of the servant women were out in the courtyard, grinding corn on their granite
metates.
They glanced up nervously as Sky Knife approached. He knelt down by one woman, an older woman whose hair was streaked with gray, and whose corn-flour-covered hands were wrinkled with age.

“Good morning,” he said. The woman ducked her head and mumbled something back.

“I'd like to ask you a question,” said Sky Knife. “I'd like to know if you've heard of anything strange happening in the fields. Something that would prevent food from coming into the city.”

“No, nothing,” said the woman. “Please, sir, I haven't done anything.”

Sky Knife was alarmed at the fear in the woman's voice. Was she merely afraid because he belonged to the temple? Priests were awesome—Sky Knife remembered being in abject terror the first time he'd been in the same room as Stone Jaguar—but surely this woman would be used to priests.

“What's wrong?” he asked. “I know you haven't done anything. I just want to know if you've heard any rumors about what's happening in the fields.”

“Please, sir, I have to get back to the corn,” the woman said.

Sky Knife stood and backed away from the woman. As soon as he got several feet away, the woman began grinding corn again. She did not look at him or acknowledge his presence in any way.

Sky Knife considered the rest of the servants in the courtyard. All of them seemed just as frightened as the first. In fact, they were acting just like Mouse-in-the-Corn.

Itzamna! If the servants couldn't trust him because he had rank and they didn't, how could he expect them to tell him anything?

Sky Knife retreated to the acropolis and sat down on the steps. Bone Splinter climbed the steps and stood at the top, staring down at those in the courtyard in a calm—but disconcerting—manner, judging by the renewed vigor in the women's grinding.

One of the women looked up from her work and screamed. Sky Knife tried to see what had frightened her. The source of the woman's alarm was not hard to discern.

Coming
over
the wall that surrounded the courtyard was another Yellow Chin. Two of them. No, three.

The serpents slid over the wall and dropped to the dirt of the courtyard. Each raised its head and looked around. Three forked tongues tasted the air.

“Four of them in one morning,” said Bone Splinter. “Let's hope four is all there is—I'd hate to think that someone has called nine.”

Sky Knife shuddered. He didn't want to face three more of the deadly serpents, let alone eight more.

The serpents' gazes locked on Sky Knife, and the dingy-colored snakes slithered forward. Sky Knife backed up a step, but stopped. He would not run from Yellow Chin. Not again.

Something dropped to the dust at Sky Knife's feet and he jumped. A brightly colored serpent slithered toward the nearest Yellow Chin: the
chic-chac.

Sky Knife retreated to the nearest
metate
and picked up the round
mano
used to grind on it. The
mano
was heavy and gritty with corn meal. Sky Knife approached the largest of the evil serpents.

The Yellow Chin hissed at him and lunged. Sky Knife dodged and threw the
mano
toward the serpent. The
mano
thunked to the ground on the other side of the snake. The snake paid no attention to the rock and slithered toward him again. Sky Knife ran to another
metate
and picked up the
mano
there. He turned to face the serpent.

Yellow Chin approached steadily and climbed up on the
metate.
Sky Knife slammed the
mano
down onto the serpent and jumped away.

The serpent thrashed about on the
metate,
its red blood leaking out into the corn meal. Its tail quivered, but the serpent went nowhere. Its spine had been crushed halfway down its back. The serpent opened its mouth and hissed toward Sky Knife.

Sky Knife picked up another
mano
and approached the Yellow Chin warily. The serpent kept its head toward him, mouth open, fangs bared.

Sky Knife crammed the
mano
into the serpent's mouth and crushed it against the granite
metate.
He pulled away the
mano.
The serpent lay limp across the stone, blood dripping from its disfigured head.

Sky Knife turned in time to see Bone Splinter smash a second serpent's head against the stone of the courtyard. He looked anxiously around for the third serpent. It was nowhere to be seen. Nor was the
chic-chac.

Alarmed, and worried for the little rainbow serpent's safety, Sky Knife jogged forward,
mano
still in hand. “Where's the other one?” he asked Bone Splinter.

The warrior shrugged. “I wasn't paying attention,” he said.

Sky Knife walked to the wall and followed it to a weed-infested corner. There, under a small flowering bush, lay the Yellow Chin, dead, and the
chic-chac.
Sky Knife dropped the
mano,
knelt down, and picked up the rainbow serpent carefully.

Two large puncture wounds marred the
chic-chac
's back. It trembled and breathed heavily as if in great pain. Sky Knife stroked it and the
chic-chac
caressed his hand with its tongue.

“It is all right?” asked Bone Splinter.

“I don't think so,” said Sky Knife. He choked back a sob. A rainbow serpent was not like an ordinary snake—perhaps it would be able to resist the poison of the Yellow Chin.

Sky Knife walked back to the acropolis steps and sat down. The
chic-chac
curled up in the palm of his hand. Sky Knife stroked it carefully.

Bone Splinter sat down beside him. In the courtyard, the women stood as far as possible from the place where the serpents had appeared and did not return to their corn.

“What's going on here?” demanded Stone Jaguar. “Why aren't you women working?”

The women stared at Stone Jaguar, fear in their faces, but remained where they were.

“We were attacked,” said Sky Knife. “Three Yellow Chins came over the wall.”

Stone Jaguar stepped down into the courtyard and examined the body of the Yellow Chin Sky Knife had killed. “Three, you say?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Sky Knife. “I killed one, and Bone Splinter killed one. The
chic-chac
killed the other.”

Stone Jaguar straightened and turned to Sky Knife. “A rainbow serpent is harmless,” he said.

“Not, apparently, to a Yellow Chin,” said Bone Splinter. “Though the
chic-chac
may die.”

Stone Jaguar strode forward and peered down at the little snake. “I wouldn't think anything could kill the good luck of a rainbow serpent,” he said. “If the
chic-chac
dies, we may as well give up.”

“It won't die,” said Sky Knife, more in hope than because he believed it.

“Let's pray that it doesn't,” said Stone Jaguar. “I'll get one of the attendants we've got left to clear the serpents' bodies from the courtyard. And we'll have to throw out all the corn that was ground this morning. It will have too much bad luck clinging to it to be edible.”

Stone Jaguar disappeared into the acropolis. The women fled the courtyard. Sky Knife stayed and petted the rainbow serpent. His tears ran down his face and wetted the serpent's skin, making it glisten like jewels in the late morning sun.

22

Sky Knife held the serpent for a few minutes while it trembled. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave it behind, but could he do his duty while carrying a serpent in the palm of his hand?

The
chic-chac
seemed to sense his discomfort. It slowly crawled out of his palm to his wrist. It rested and breathed rapidly for a time. Then it continued toward his elbow. The slow, pain-ridden way it moved broke Sky Knife's heart.

The serpent raised its head a fraction of an inch as if it intended to crawl up his arm to Sky Knife's neck. But the serpent dropped its head down after a moment and took a long, deep breath. To Sky Knife, the
chic-chac
seemed exhausted.