The Bloodgate Guardian Page 20

  “But you don’t want the World Tree to die.” Guttural words and spittle flew from his mouth in a slew of Maya curses she couldn’t understand. She pushed on insistently. “If the Tree dies, the Gates won’t work any longer! They’ll wither away to nothing and leave you trapped here forever.”

  “Die, die, every living thing will die!” The demon slung her away and howled, tearing at its stringy gray hair. “No World Tree, no Gates, no humans left! We shall rule above and below!”

  Flailing, she fought to keep her head above the foul water. She backed away and stumbled into cold, slick stone. She pressed her back against it, grateful for the protection and solid strength that could help her stand tall when her knees quivered and her stomach felt like she’d swallowed too much of this rancid water. “If everything dies, who will worship you? Who will sacrifice blood to you? If there aren’t any humans left, then where will you get your power?”

  Awful silence weighed heavily upon the water. Her heart thudded slow and heavy, thick blood pounding in her head.

  Finally, One Death spoke. “Poor little human fool. Do you know why you fear death so much? Because I am inevitable. Nothing you can do will save you from my power. I will come to your feast unannounced, a guest you cannot rid from your house, and I will spoil your food, foul your wine, while your body rots about you until only bones and dust remain.”

  Shivering, she pressed back against the wall and tried to think. This demon was awful, yes, but she was missing something. Something important.

  She forced herself to look fully upon the demon and catalogue his appearance. His skin was as pasty and corpselike as Blood Gatherer’s, but she didn’t shiver with dread simply by looking at him. His flat black eyes were hollowed caves of misery, his teeth jagged and stained, but he seemed less. Smaller. A parody of the horrifying demon she’d bargained with in Iximche.

  His power is less. Of course. “Blood Gatherer is waiting for you on the other side of the Gate, fresh from slaughtering an entire village. Just curious, but how long do you think it’ll take you to gain as much strength? If he gives you the chance…”

  A scuttling sound like roaches scratching across the floor tightened her throat, but she stared him in the eye and knew she’d found his weakness. How could he be the supreme lord of Xibalba if one of his underlings was stronger than him?

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to see my father alive and well, and I want the king’s heart returned to him.”

  The demon made a choking, sniffling noise that took her several moments to recognize as laughter. “Come out, learned man. Reveal yourself to your daughter so I may show her the Caged Heart.”

  A shadow peeled away from the murky ceiling where he’d been hiding and dropped into the water half a dozen feet away.

  Jaid stared at her father. Tears welled in her eyes and her tongue plastered to the roof of her mouth. What could she say? That she’d been so afraid she would never see him again? That she wished they hadn’t wasted all these years apart?

  Dr. Charles Merritt clamped a hand on her shoulder and squeezed firmly, but that was the only sign of affection he gave her. “How much do you know?”

  She closed her eyes a moment and swallowed down the cold lump of tears and wails that threatened to come out. Even if he was glad to see her, they couldn’t let the demon see how vulnerable they were. Her mind knew they had to play cool and calm, but her heart bled, huddled in her chest like a lost, cold child. “I know everything.”

  “Excellent.” However, his eyes narrowed, the skin crinkling about his eyes. Frowning, he started to say something else, but hesitated.

  The sight of his craggy, handsome face made her chest hurt all the more. She remembered him slaving over his latest find by the flickering light of a camp lantern. She’d always thought him the smartest man in the world. How she’d longed for a word of praise from him. Her whole life had been spent trying to impress him and show how much she could help him.

  Maybe then he wouldn’t leave her behind for the next dig site.

  Her heart pounded and she stared into his hollowed eyes, silently begging him to say something, anything. What horrors had he seen here? Did he regret anything? Did he think they would ever see sunlight and the real world again? His face lined even more, grooves deepening about his mouth. His fingers tightened on her arm so hard she thought she might bruise.

  Please, Dad. Say something. Tell me—

  “Don’t forget your bargain, humans,” One Death hissed out, breaking the moment of silent communication. “Follow me to the Caged Heart. Then you will open the Gates for me. With two Gatekeepers to power my magic, Blood Gatherer must bend knee to me once more.”

  Jaid smoothed her face and hoped that one of the demon’s powers wasn’t telepathy. Ruin was much more powerful than she’d ever be, and Sam had already killed for the demons. She didn’t think it’d be much of a match, but she’d worry about that once they crossed back home.

  Her father turned to follow the demon. “You surely won’t allow Blood Gatherer to overthrow you.”

  Of course, her brilliant father had effortlessly picked up on the underlying Xibalban politics.

  One Death let out a high-pitched shriek that sent Jaid reeling, her ears aching. Her father reached out and steadied her. Shocked, she stumbled again when he kept his hand on her arm as they walked.

  “They must both be gaining strength with every passing moment.” His calm, conversational manner helped steady her nerves and keep her fear at bay. He acted like their companion was just another person, not a demon bent on destroying the world. “I’m sure they’ve availed themselves of many sacrifices.”

  “Sheep for the slaughter.” One Death made a clashing sound like an iron portcullis closing off a castle’s defenses. Blackened blood and pus oozed down the demon’s bone-white jaw. “They’re feasting while I remain locked away from such a wealth of blood and suffering. You must open the Gate!”

  Of course, she thought wryly. Two or three demons on a killing spree weren’t nearly enough.

  One Death led them downward through a sloped narrow tunnel. At first they splashed through knee-deep water, but soon they left the endless waters behind. The dichotomy made Jaid want to moan and massage her temples. If they went lower into the bowels of Xibalba, how had the water disappeared? The tunnel should be flooded instead of dry.

  The rock glistened wetly, slick and smelling of rot and slime. No natural swamp had ever smelled so wretched. She slipped and reached out to steady herself against the noisome wall. The rock squished like living flesh and moved beneath her palm. Gulping back a startled cry, she jerked her hand away.

  One Death laughed and wheezed so hard he expelled some kind of foul spittle onto the floor of the tunnel. This time the rock gave a mighty heave that sent her tumbling into her father. They gripped each other, fighting to keep their balance while the tunnel bucked like a rodeo bronco.

  “Don’t look,” her father whispered, his voice low and urgent against her ear. He pushed her face against his chest and held her close. “Keep walking. Stay calm. I don’t know…” He shuddered and his arms tightened.

  Twisting her head slightly, she had to see. Shapes undulated, slowly filling the tunnel ahead. In the darkness, it took her a moment to make out distinct arms, heads, and torsos. Flailing arms rose from the floor, tugging and clutching at her jeans. Something grabbed at her hair, tangling like a briar branch. Her breath a loud pant, she reached up and tugged, trying to free herself.

  A face rose out of the stone directly at eye level, its mouth wide open on a silent scream of agony. The eyes were wide and white with panic, still wet and alive.

  They’re alive.

  She jerked her gaze away from those horror-filled eyes. A naked torso gaped, ribs white and cracked, flesh still dripping dark blood. The heart was missing.

  She was caught in a screaming whirlwind, tossed, shaken, the noise so deafening…

  Her cheek stung. Again. Blinking, she re
alized her father had pressed his forehead against hers. He shook her, his voice sharp. “Stop it, Jaid.”

  She shut her mouth and the shrill, whistling hurricane wind silenced. Crying so hard she choked, she fisted her hands in his shirt. Her mind felt shattered, broken like a thousand-year-old vase discovered at the bottom of a jungle ravine. “I’m the Un-Indiana Jones! I don’t muck around in jungles or battle demons. I can’t do this. I have to get out.”

  “We will,” he promised, smoothing his hand through her hair. “We’re going to get out. Hang on just awhile longer. You’ve been so strong. I’m so proud of you, Jaid.”

  His unfamiliar words of praise did more to shake her out of the mindless terror than his calming manner. “You are?”

  He stared down at her and for the first time in her life, she saw the unmitigated guilt and grief in his eyes. “Always.”

  “Come,” the demon crooned. “We have a special spot reserved for our dearest, most prized sacrifices. If you’re not too afraid to see it…”

  She longed for a good long cry and an equally long heart-to-heart talk with this stranger who’d once been her distant, reserved father. Instead, she took a shallow breath—her stomach twisting at the rank, rotting stench—squared her shoulders, and said, “Lead the way.”

  Her father’s eyes gleamed with what looked suspiciously like tears.

  Hand in hand, they turned and ran after the demon. Her boots squelched and sank into the living rock, sucking and clinging so hard her thighs ached from the strain of tugging her feet free. Her skin crawled, but she pushed the horror away. She couldn’t think about walking on tortured, living people. It was all a horrible vision, a trick to scare the weak-willed away from the demons’ greatest secrets.

  A lighter area beckoned ahead. Shaking with exhaustion, she threw herself toward that clearing from the tunnel of horrors. The grasping, writhing bodies disappeared. She bent over, bracing her hands on her knees, and concentrated on breathing…and not throwing up.

  “Few humans have ever seen this chamber,” One Death said. “You’re very lucky. Most have been sacrificed long before they enter the tunnel. Then it’s just a matter of deciding where to place our latest ornament.”

  “Your ornaments are rather old and decayed.” Dr. Merritt’s once proud, arrogantly confident voice quivered. That small weakness made her feel a little better about her breakdown. “How long has it been since you were able to add a new trophy?”

  One Death howled. “Since the priest stole the White Dagger!”

  Forcing herself to focus, Jaid tried to play along with her father. If they could keep the demons squabbling against each other, they had a small hope that the Lords of Death might eliminate each other. “Blood Gatherer has it now.”

  The demon raged louder. “It’s mine! Mine!”

  The rock quivered and shook beneath Jaid’s feet. She glanced about the large chamber, searching for another exit, but none materialized.

  In the center, black stone rose up from the floor, sticky and wet. A living, beating heart still oozing blood sat on top. Waves of wispy blue light swept across the chamber.

  Moving across the chamber to stroke and pet the still-beating organ, One Death’s rage slowly died. “Behold the Caged Heart, some of our greatest magic. Only the heart of a king can last so long, except possibly…” His head turned slowly, his glowing red eyes latching on to her. “A cursed priest’s who cannot die.”

  She shuddered at the thought of Ruin’s heart ripped from his chest, magicked into beating for the Xibalban Lords’ pleasure. They must gain a great deal of power from the constant flow of fresh blood.

  “The greatest wonder is that we need do nothing to keep it beating. Only the king’s great emotion keeps his heart caged and alive, his love, hatred, and fierce desire for revenge. Ah, such sweet, delicious emotions. I’d forgotten what human emotion felt like until he came into our hands. He’s given us much to savor.”

  Jaid fought to keep her face smooth despite the burning acid churning up her throat. “If you get so much power from it, why are you willing to give the Caged Heart to us?”

  “What is one small heart balanced against a whole world of human sheep?”

  Dread crawled down her spine. How could they risk letting such evil loose on the world? But how could she remain here in hell, while Blood Gatherer forced Sam to murder innocents and Ruin suffered in their hands?

  Dr. Charles Merritt pointed to the ceiling and whispered, “The rings.”

  In her revolted study of the heart, she’d missed the stone rounds. As in the ruins, the map stretched across the stone. It made her dizzy to stare up through swirling blue tendrils of fog at the ceiling with its distracting encryption.

  “Why seven…” Yet as soon as she started to voice the question, she knew the answer. There were seven rings above, not two as in the earthly temples. Seven Caves, Seven Canyons, of course, another name for the underworld. She kept a wary eye on the demon, who hovered by the bloody heart with a sly, knowing smile on his sluglike lips.

  Keeping his voice low, her father asked, “Do you know the key?”

  She shook her head slightly. “If the wrong key is used, the Gate opens only to Xibalba. They have a built-in protection that typically keeps it open only on our earthly side, locking anything that might try to get out inside Xibalba. Whatever you did at Lake Atitlan unlocked the Gate’s protection.”

  He stroked his chin. “So where do we end up if we use the wrong key on this side?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Staring up at the seven rings, she felt sick. Dully, she answered, “We can’t turn the rings to align the glyphs. They’re too high.”

  “So they are. How very interesting.”

  She felt like crying, or better yet, running stark raving mad. What would One Death do to them as soon as he realized it was impossible for them to open the Gate?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Open the Gate to Xibalba.”

  Ruin nodded curtly to the demon. “I need a blade. The woman took mine.”

  With a nasty white-bone grin, Blood Gatherer offered the White Dagger.

  Arching a brow, Ruin stared at the fabled knife. “Are you sure you trust me with that?”

  “Imagine how much power you’ll release if you use it to open the Gate.” Blood Gatherer made a greedy, hungry sound and his eyes burned brighter. “My Lord and greatest enemy will be coming through. I don’t plan to bow to him ever again. So give me power, priest, and open the Gate at my bidding, else I will use your brother’s lovely woman to ensure I’m stronger than One Death when he comes.”

  Centering himself, Ruin reached out and wrapped his palm around the White Dagger. A buzzing shock jolted his palm and numbed his whole arm. Such power. Such agony.

  A legion of souls filled the knife, their life energies shaking with terror, providing a churning, vibrant sea of energy for the demons. So many were trapped inside, more souls than he could ever safely release. Freeing his brother’s freshly entrapped soul had caused the trio of volcanoes surrounding Lake Atitlan to erupt and his city had been buried in rubble.

  He returned to the Temple of Days and adjusted the rings. An unnecessary step, but he was curious to see how Jaid had set them. To go to Xibalba, she didn’t need a key; the safeguards would ensure that’s the only place she could go, unless she correctly set the rings for another world according to the map. Staring at the dried blood and scuffs she’d left in the dust, he felt his throat tighten.

  The message she’d left for him was simple and subtle: Chi’Ch’ul and “heart.”

  My heart is yours, he whispered softly in his mind, even though he doubted she could hear or feel their bond. More than distance separated them now, an entire watery underworld. Please be safe, whole, and waiting for me to open the Gate for your return.

  Crusted and crumbled with disuse, the circular stone shrieked as if the earth knew what was coming and wailed at him to stop. What choice did he have? In one act of desperation, he could
save Jaid and her father—if she’d found him—and free his brother’s soul. At last, his beloved brother would be free to journey to First Five Sky with Butterfly Star. Yet his very soul trembled with dread and horror.

  He could not stop Blood Gatherer, let alone the other two demons already loosed on this world. How much worse would they rage and pillage with their leader and commander freed from Xibalba?

  “Do it.” Blood Gatherer snarled, his teeth clashing like swords. “Do it or your brother is mine forever!”

  Ruin walked with heavy feet back to the pool. Had he given her enough time to find her father? How would they even know the Gate was opening? He couldn’t remember much of his own trip to Xibalba except endless water and horrors he’d deliberately wiped from his memory. Even if he could bring her back, would Jaid even be sane?

  Forcing his doubts aside, he sliced his palm. “Great Feathered Serpent, forgive me.” Then he cast out his hand and slung blood onto the water.

  An oppressive silence weighted the air in the cave, broken only by his thundering heartbeat and blood rushing in his veins. Blood Gatherer paced eagerly to his left; the broken human priest wept and shivered in the corner of the cave; and Wrack held his woman tightly in his arms; but everyone’s eyes were locked on the dark waters.

  This time, there were no gales or hurricanes to announce the opening of the Gate to Xibalba. The water merely darkened, thickening into a viscous sludge. Black water bulged outward, stretching. With an audible pop, a hand broke the surface.

  White, ghastly, and spotted, the hand clutched a frantically beating heart.

  Wrack inhaled sharply and groaned. Reflexively, he touched his chest. Weeping softly, Butterfly Star buried her face against him.

  “There is the one who took your heart,” Ruin said in a cold, hard voice. “There is the one who tortured your beloved.”

  Hissing out his breath, Wrack unsheathed his obsidian blade. He set his woman aside and came to stand beside his brother. “He’s mine.”