❖ A hundred years after a disease burned the world down, Adriana is dragged into a war she didn't know existed. The Aztec gods are fighting for their lives, and they want her to help. ❖
Adriana is a fourth-generation member of Grillo Negro, a nomadi...
The warm pool in my chest deeped just like before. I took a deep breath and held it in until my whole body tingled. I could let loose like I had with the fire pits, but this time, I needed control. Burn the Centzon Huītznāuhtin. The fire's swirl inside me focused into a clear tug. When I exhaled, my power traveled out through my hands and into the ground. It stayed alive. There were grass roots underground, and even the non-gritty parts of the soil were enough fuel for a grounded fire. I continued to manage my breath to keep myself steady, feeding the magic and stifling its love of flames. Like a snake under sand, the burning crept down the hill beneath the soil. Where it wilted the grass, I sent it deeper.
The Centzon Huītznāuhtin still had not noticed me yet. I startled as the ground gave out beneath my hands. Residual smouldering had burned out a small tunnel at the top of the thread I was sending down the valley. I moved my hands to the tunnel's sides and willed it not to cave in anywhere else before Fuego reached the target I had assigned to it. It was speeding up now. Like a real snake locked on a target, it devoured the distance, halfway there, then three-quarters. The thread split. Its filaments honed in on the Centzon Huītznāuhtin like wasps to fruit sugar, excited by the thing I told them to burn.
I held my breath. If this didn't work, I had to go straight to my sling.
The first of Coyol's followers erupted into flame with a horrid, guttural yell. I had never heard them make a sound as they died. The rest shouted and ran, but it was too late: Fuego caught up with them, and they too went up like living torches. I was glad they were too far for me to see what I had done. I kept the fires burning until only blackened spots in the grass remained. Then I ran down the hill.
The tree only got bigger the closer I got. I kept my eyes on the black spots to tell myself I was approaching at all, until I realized I had not burned the bones of one. I wrenched my gaze away. The near-black sky seemed to lighten as a deeper blackness seeped through it up ahead. Around the tree, the sky itself parted. I slowed among building-sized tree roots, finally able to see up its trunk. Up and up, until it was lost from view far, far above the Mictlan sky.
The tree's trunk was impossibly smooth, and I knew at a glance that I would not be able to climb it. Not that I could climb that distance, anyway. I felt in my pocket for one of my charms. If that gap in the sky was any indication, I could pass between the layers of the world here just as I had when I first came down to Mictlan.
I crouched with one hand on each dog's back, the charm clasped in my fist. Did I want to bring the dogs? Something told me they would be safer down here than where I was going. I hugged them both, then stood.
"Stay," I said in Nahuatl. Then, for Grifo, "Quieto."
He drooped visibly at the Spanish command. I meant it. I dropped to my knees for one last hug. "I'm sorry. I'll come back for you."
What was I even doing? I had a plan but no idea how to execute it, and the moment I used the charm, I would be on my own. I only had one more charm after that. What if I had to use it elsewhere? Would I ever get my dogs back?
I was barging into the home of the most powerful goddess, not even knowing what I would find. I had to free the gods. I had brought matzin, and if that could counter Mictēcacihuātl's curse, I would have backup so long as I could get it to them. Then we had to fight. If we couldn't beat Coyol, there was no point protecting anything in the world below. If Coyol won, this was over.
I pushed that thought aside. It wouldn't stay anymore, so I constructed a mental box and sealed it inside. To that container I added the memory that I was the second-strongest on this side of the war even before the gods got cursed, and the thick, nauseating possibility that that curse's effects may not wear off so quickly. Last, I threw in the fear of Coyol finding me. Then I slammed the box and locked it.
If Coyol won, at least I would still have one last charm. I could teleport Jem, Emma and I somewhere safe. Maybe back to Mictlan, to the souls' village. I would have to come back anyway if I was now half-dead.
Tochtli licked my elbow.
"I know. I'm going now," I said, standing. One hand clenched the charm so hard it hurt. The other gripped my new stick.
"The sky-world," I said, and the world flashed white.
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