Sky Knife (14 page)

“You wished to see me, Sky Knife?” asked Storm Cloud, his accent jarring Sky Knife's ears once again.

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “Kan Flower told me you plan to make war on Uaxactun tomorrow.”

“And I do,” said Storm Cloud. He waved toward Stone Jaguar. “Though the
Ah men
of Tikal says it would be foolish.”

“If you send the warriors out of the city, there will be a disaster,” said Stone Jaguar. “Whoever is causing the bad luck will have a free hand to do as they please.”

“I don't see that they're having much difficulty as it is,” said Storm Cloud. “Whoever it is was strong enough to call up that darkness-spawned rain this morning. What did you do about that, priest?”

Stone Jaguar was silent. Sky Knife jumped to his superior's defense. “Just so, my king,” he said. “Someone was strong enough to call up that rain. That means they were in the city. Uaxactun is miles from here—no one there is causing the bad luck here.”

“They may not be there, but I believe they are from there,” said the king. “Unless you have found out something since the rain?”

Sky Knife struggled to find an answer for the king. “I talked to someone who felt the answer might lie in Teotihuacan,” he said. It wasn't exactly what the old woman had said, but almost. “Perhaps one of your brothers is here to cause you trouble.”

Storm Cloud sat back and stroked the jade beads that dangled from around his throat. “The last I heard, my brothers squabbled among themselves about who would rule what. Perhaps one of them decided I would be an easier target. It's possible.”

“There is a merchant from Teotihuacan in the city,” said Sky Knife. “I was talking to him when the rain came, but he could have an accomplice.”

“Red Spider,” said Storm Cloud. “Yes, I know him. His family has a great deal of status. He would be a powerful foe.”

“You know him?” asked Sky Knife.

The king laughed softly and stepped off the dais to stand in front of Sky Knife. For the first time, Sky Knife realized Storm Cloud resembled Red Spider. Not as tall, and more Mayan-looking than foreign. But they had the same eyes, the same hooded, bird of prey eyes.

Storm Cloud laid a hand on Sky Knife's shoulder. The king was several inches taller than Sky Knife, and much more elaborately dressed. Sky Knife felt like a child before him. Who was he to question Storm Cloud's judgment in anything?

“Oh, yes,” said Storm Cloud. “He is family. His mother was my father's cousin, who married one of the warrior-merchants of the city. Red Spider is her eldest son.”

“Then he might want to act against you,” said Sky Knife.

Storm Cloud, for some reason Sky Knife didn't understand, laughed. He released Sky Knife's shoulder and sat down on the edge of the dais. “I don't think so,” he said. “There is something in this city he wants, but she wears a purple dress and throws fruit at her suitors. He would not want to woo a bad luck bride.”

“Jade Flute?” asked Sky Knife, his knees suddenly wobbling. He had not thought to wonder what other suitors she might have. But then, what was he thinking? Storm Cloud could never marry Jade Flute to a low-status priest like himself.

“So you've met my wife's niece,” said Storm Cloud. “She is another problem. But not the most immediate.”

“The war,” said Stone Jaguar. “Call off the war, lest ruin overtake us.”

Storm Cloud clapped his hands. “Leave me,” he said. “And I will consider the matter. And even if I do decide to call off the war, that doesn't mean that the king of Uaxactun will permit me to back away from the promise of a fight. He may insist.”

“He may indeed,” said Stone Jaguar, “but then let the wrath of the gods be on his head, not yours. You must protect your city.”

Anger colored Storm Cloud's features. “You do not tell me what I must or must not do, priest. Remember that.”

Stone Jaguar bowed low. “Of course, my king. But give Sky Knife a chance to discover the identity of our enemy. With the protection of your warrior and the
chic-chac,
he cannot fail.”

The king frowned. “
Chic-chac?
What is this?”

Cold dread settled into Sky Knife's chest and touched his heart with bony fingers. “My neck,” he said. “What do you see around my neck?”

Storm Cloud glanced toward Sky Knife in irritation. “A cord,” he said. “Just an old cord. Now get out.”

Sky Knife backed away from the king, then turned and walked out of the room. He fought the urge to run from the palace, to run from what he feared.

The king! The king could not be behind the bad luck—what good did it do to rule over ruins? That made no sense.

Still, the king could not see the
chic-chac.
And he was tall. And between two powerful cousins, what kind of bad luck could
not
be wrought?

Sky Knife exited the palace and only then broke into a run. He had no idea where he was going. Just so long as it was away from the palace. And the king.

14

Sky Knife ran until his sides hurt, and his chest heaved in an effort to take in more air. He slowed to a walk and wiped sweat from his forehead.

The Temple of Ix Chel stood just ahead. Sky Knife paused. What should he do now? Should he tell Turtle Nest of his suspicions concerning the king?

No, that would wait. Sky Knife walked back toward the plaza. Ahead, he saw Bone Splinter coming toward him. The warrior waved as he approached.

“Stone Jaguar wants to see you,” said Bone Splinter. “The king orders me to the House of the Warriors to await his decision concerning the war.”

“And if there is war?” asked Sky Knife.

“I will go with my brothers,” said Bone Splinter.

Sky Knife's heart wilted. He had never known someone like Bone Splinter, someone who believed in him, even when he himself found that difficult to do. A jab of loneliness pierced him.

Bone Splinter laid a hand on his shoulder. “I'll see you again,” he said. “Unless the gods of war wish to see me first.”

Sky Knife nodded, his throat too thick to speak.

Bone Splinter patted him once on the shoulder, then turned and walked back toward the House of the Warriors. Sky Knife watched him go and fought back tears. The
chic-chac
squeezed his neck slightly.

Sky Knife took comfort from the serpent's support and walked to the southern acropolis. The sun was high in the sky and shone down steady and bright. Sweat rolled off Sky Knife's face. The dry season was always a time of oppressive heat, but now it seemed worse than ever before.

The interior of the acropolis was dark and stuffy. Sky Knife walked to Stone Jaguar's quarters. As he approached, he heard Stone Jaguar and Death Smoke arguing.

“He's too young,” said Death Smoke.

“The gods have chosen him,” said Stone Jaguar, his voice hard and sharp.

“A
chic-chac
's blessing is not the same as the gods',” said Death Smoke.

“It's all we've got!”

“And when I'm dead, it will just be him and you.”

“And if we don't use him, then it will just be me. Talk sense, old man. There's no time to argue. He drew the Hand of God out of the water. He is a priest.”

Sky Knife stood still, hardly daring to breathe. Although he agreed more than he liked to admit with Death Smoke, anger rose in his gut. He had not thought he would become a priest, but he had. He intended to do the best job he could as a credit to the gods. And to himself.

“Yes, I know he's a priest,” said Death Smoke with a sigh. “It was just done so quickly, with no training. He doesn't know anything!”

“He can learn. We'll start today. Right now, in fact. I've sent for him—he should be here soon.”

Sky Knife bit his lip and stepped forward into the room. Stone Jaguar looked up sharply from his seat on a bench, but said nothing.

Death Smoke frowned. “All right,” he said. “Come, boy, you should look like a priest rather than an attendant.”

Death Smoke held out a length of blue cotton material. The pattern on the material was of green and white flowers. Sky Knife took the material and wrapped it around his waist, bunching it up in front to match the way the other priests wore their skirts. He tucked the end into the cord of his loincloth.

Stone Jaguar nodded approvingly. “It suits you,” he said. “Here.”

Stone Jaguar held out a necklace of tiny jade beads. Sky Knife took it, hands trembling. He'd never been given such a precious thing to wear. He dropped the strand over his head. It dangled almost to his belly. The
chic-chac
shifted slightly. Sky Knife felt its tongue touch his chin.

“It would seem your rainbow friend approves,” said Stone Jaguar. “Good. I'd like to think that means a little good luck might come our way.”

“One more thing,” said Death Smoke. “Your ears are not pierced. If you're going to be a priest, you should be able to wear ear spools someday.”

“Come over here,” said Stone Jaguar. Sky Knife obediently walked over to the priest. Stone Jaguar stood and held out a stingray spine and a cotton towel. He grabbed Sky Knife's left ear and jabbed the lobe with the spine.

Sky Knife flinched slightly at the sudden pain, but made no sound. Stone Jaguar patted the earlobe with the towel, then quickly repeated the procedure with the right ear. This time, Sky Knife managed not to flinch.

Death Smoke handed two wooden spools barely as big around as a dried corn kernel to Stone Jaguar, who thrust them into the newly made holes in Sky Knife's ears. He stood back.

“Good,” said Stone Jaguar. “In a few weeks, we'll put something larger in.”

Sky Knife's earlobes felt swollen, and his wounds stung. Cautiously, he touched one of the spools. The wood was soaked by his blood.

“Come,” said Stone Jaguar. “We must begin your education.” Stone Jaguar threw his jaguar-skin cloak over his shoulders and adjusted his necklaces.

Death Smoke and Stone Jaguar walked out of the room. Sky Knife hesitated for a moment, then followed them. The skirt swished against his legs as he walked. It seemed to catch at his knees as if to trip him. No doubt he would get used to it, but for now, it seemed a nuisance.

Stone Jaguar and Death Smoke headed for the northern acropolis. Sky Knife followed slowly, uncomfortable at being outside with his new finery. Fortunately, the plaza was still largely deserted, and those who stared at the priests walking among them stared mostly at Stone Jaguar in his jaguar-skin cloak.

The northern acropolis seemed just as menacing today as it had the day before, but Sky Knife took comfort in the presence of the
chic-chac
at his throat. He followed the other two men into the darkness of the building.

Stone Jaguar clapped his hands as they entered a room. A fire sprang into being in the firepit in the center of the room. Sky Knife glanced around; this was the same room he had been in the afternoon before, the room where he had saved the
chic-chac,
the room where the other attendant had died.

“There should be four of us,” complained Death Smoke. “This is highly unusual.”

“I already know that,” said Stone Jaguar. He sat by the fire. A small cotton pouch was already in place beside him. “But there's nothing we can do. The other candidate was rejected.”

Death Smoke and Sky Knife sat down as well. Stone Jaguar took a small pouch, opened it, and threw a pinch of something into the fire. It flashed and a sweet, heavy smell filled the room.

“We offer incense,” said Stone Jaguar.

Death Smoke took out his tobacco pouch and threw a pinch into the fire. “We offer tobacco,” he said.

The other two looked at Sky Knife. A trickle of blood ran down his cheek and dropped onto his arm. He flung the drop into the fire. “We offer blood,” he said.

Stone Jaguar grunted approval. “When the gods first made man, they made him from mud,” he said. “But then the rains came and the men washed away.”

Death Smoke waved his hands over the fire and closed his eyes. “When the gods made man the second time, they made him from wood. But the wood-men had no emotions, and the gods destroyed them.”

Silence fell. Sky Knife glanced at Stone Jaguar, but the older man had closed his eyes as well. Sky Knife took a deep breath and continued the story. “When the gods made man the third time, they made him from maize,” he said. “And the men worshipped the gods, and counted the seasons, and offered themselves as sacrifices.”

“So the gods were pleased with men,” said Stone Jaguar. “And taught him to raise the corn, his brother.”

“Man shelters the corn as it grows,” said Death Smoke, “and in return, it fills his belly.”

Again, there was a silence. But this time, Sky Knife did not know what to say. The others waited for a few moments, then Stone Jaguar continued. “Itzamna taught men how to count, and how to write so that men could keep track of the comings and goings of the stars, and the moon, and the seasons.”

“Itzamna is the greatest of the gods,” said Death Smoke. “His names and forms are many.”

Sky Knife felt lost. The other men spoke as if he should know all the proper responses. He knew Itzamna took on many forms, but he didn't know them all. When Death Smoke paused, Sky Knife jumped in with the first thing he could think of.

“As Itzam Cab Ain, he is the surface of the earth,” said Sky Knife quickly.

“He is Itzamna Kauil when he smiles upon man, and Ix Kan Itzam T'ul when he frowns,” said Death Smoke.

Stone Jaguar smiled slightly, and Sky Knife's fear eased a bit. Perhaps this was just a test to see what he would say. Sky Knife continued.

“He is the earth iguana, whose home is the treetops. He is the crocodile that floats on the waters of the world.”

“He is our lord in heaven and our lord of the earth,” said Stone Jaguar. “His anger is terrible to behold, and his mercy is terrible to receive.”