Escaping Fate (15 page)

Mr. Gadner sauntered back into the room
carrying a tray filled with tea cups and turkey sandwiches cut into
triangles. I stifled a laugh. I had imagined that the elderly
professor would swoop into the room with a full tea service,
dressed in old English garb, and smoking a pipe. It was close
enough. Unfortunately he was still wearing the ratty pajamas and
robe. I accepted the tea gratefully.

“Now, I supposed you didn’t actually
come by to play chess, today. Poor Arra would be bored to tears,”
Mr. Gadner said knowingly. “So why have you dropped by, Alden,
other than to introduce me to your lovely granddaughter, that
is?”

“We need your expertise,” my grandpa
said, careful to keep his tone light. My mood, which had been
temporarily lifted by Mr. Gadner’s eccentricities, crashed low with
the reminder of why we were here.

“Wonderful. I am always willing to
impart my vast knowledge to those seeking to learn,” he said
graciously. “What subject would you like to discuss? The Cradle of
Civilization? The founding of America? The Ming
Dynasty?”

“We need some information about the
ancient Aztecs,” my grandpa said. “Human sacrifices
specifically.”

“A very interesting topic indeed,” Mr.
Gadner mused. “Human sacrifice is a gruesome thing. Why do you want
to learn about a thing like that?”

I choked on my sandwich. Why? I had not
expected him to care about the why.

“Well, Phil, there is a very old story
in my family about an ancestor who was chosen to be a human
sacrifice. I was telling the story to Arra here and she became
curious about the culture.” His voice stayed surprisingly even as
he spoke. I was still trying to swallow the lump of bread and
turkey stuck in my throat. I took a deep sip of the tea, my eyes
fixed on my grandpa. How could he talk about this so calmly? I
wondered.

“There were many occasions for human
sacrifice unfortunately,” Mr. Gadner said with a sad shake of his
head. “Do you have a specific ceremony in mind, or a specific God?
Different ceremonies and gods required different sacrifices and
rights.”

I stared at him dumbly. How could we
possibly know the exact ceremony or God involved? That was why we
were here, to have him tell us what we needed to know. I realized
that the dreams probably held some clues about why the ceremony was
being performed, but I had no idea which details would be
important. Perhaps the way Kivera’s face was painted, or the
obsidian blade? I just didn’t know and spelling out the dreams
would be a clear clue to the professor that something very strange
was going on. I didn’t think I wanted to go that direction at the
moment.

“The Day of Tlaloc, or the New Fire
Ceremony,” my grandpa said. His voice was quieter than when he had
spoken before, but the words froze my wandering thoughts
immediately. I gaped at him. I thought he had told me everything he
knew yesterday. Obviously he had been holding back a few important
details. My grandpa avoided my questioning gaze.

Mr. Gadner appeared not to notice the
change. “Wonderful,” he exclaimed, fully focused on my grandpa’s
words. “Now I know where to begin.” He sprang from his chair and
went immediately to a bookshelf. After only a second or two, he
pulled a book from the shelf. Flipping through the pages as he
walked back to his seat, he mumbled quietly to himself as he
searched for the correct section.

“Ah, here we are. The Aztec Gods.”
Settling back into his chair, he continued. “Tlaloc was the God of
Rain. The Day of Tlaloc would have been on the summer solstice,
June twenty-first.”

“That’s my birthday!” I gasped. Staring
into my grandpa’s eyes, I shook my head. I had the distinct feeling
that the date was not a coincidence. My grandpa visibly cringed at
the mention of my birthday.

Mr. Gadner, however, noticed neither my
outburst, nor his friend’s change in demeanor. “Some years the
summer solstice falls on June twenty-second, but that hardly
matters, I guess. How interesting that you should ask about this
ceremony today. Tomorrow is June twenty-first, the summer solstice.
Did you realize that?”

“Yes, actually,” my grandpa admitted.
He squeezed my hand, trying to reassure me. It didn’t work. “What
was the ceremony like?”

“The ceremony, yes. That would have
been an interesting sight to behold, horrible no doubt, but still
very interesting.” Mr. Gadner seemed to be lost in his
thoughts.

“What happened to the victim?” I asked.
What did he mean by horrible? My face was no doubt several shades
paler than it had been and I was holding my hands tightly to keep
them from shaking. Suddenly scared to hear what he was going to
say, I reminded myself that I would see it all tonight anyway.
Knowing would only help me prepare. I told myself that, but I
didn’t really believe it.

“Well,” Gadner began, turning to me. He
stopped when he saw my face. “Are you alright, dear?”

“I’m fine. Go ahead.”

“Are you sure? It’s not very pleasant,”
he warned.

“Really, I’m fine.”

He nodded and continued. “Before the
ceremony, the victim, almost always a child, would be cleansed and
adorned in ceremonial clothing, most likely a simple white shift,
symbolizing purity. Then the victim would ascend the steps of the
temple in Tenochtitlan to where the ceremony would take place. The
victim would then be stretched across the altar and the victim’s
heart would be cut out while they were still alive.” Gadner paused,
looking at me again.

I kept myself composed as best I could.
It must have been good enough, because the professor went
on.

“The heart is still beating as it is
thrown into a sacrificial fire. Now the New Fire Ceremony you
mentioned is very similar to the Day of Tlaloc, but a little more
complicated.” He thumbed through the pages of his book, looking for
something specific. After finding the information he needed, Mr.
Gadner laid the book on the coffee table, turning it so Arra and
her grandfather could see it clearly.

“The Aztecs used two calendars, a three
hundred sixty-five day calendar, and a religious calendar of two
hundred sixty days. The two “years” would end on the same day, June
twenty-first, every fifty-two years. On this day the sacrificial
fire would be put out and a new fire, hence the name, is lit as a
sign of cleansing. The new fire is lit in the chest cavity of the
human sacrifice, while they are alive, burning the
heart.”

He paused glancing at me once again.
The green tinge to my skin and the panic in my eyes simply made him
shrug his shoulders. “I’m sorry, dear. I told you it was
unpleasant.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Gadner. I wanted to
know.” I shivered and tried to shake off the sickening feeling
spreading through my body. My grandpa had said “or” when he
mentioned the two ceremonies, but I had a sinking feeling that
Kivera had been involved in both. Fire and blood awaited me as
well. “Is there any way that someone could get out of being
sacrificed once they were chosen?”

“Absolutely not,” Mr. Gadner said.
“Once a victim was chosen, the decision could not be changed, for
any reason. The Aztecs were very superstitious. They believed it
was an honor to be sacrificed. To offer a sacrifice and then deny
the god his promised feast would mean years of suffering. At least
that’s what they believed.” He laughed at the absurdity of such
belief. I couldn’t even pretend to smile.

Mr. Gadner continued throwing out
tidbits about Aztec culture and theology, but I wasn’t really
listening and it didn’t look like my grandpa was either. My grandpa
finally broke through his friend’s chatter to suggest that I might
need some fresh air. I thanked him with a quick look for his
thoughtfulness. The antique house had gone from charming to cloying
during Mr. Gadner’s account. The gory details of the ceremony mixed
with the stuffiness of the room were quickly making my stomach
unstable. I wanted to get out into the sun as quickly as
possible.

“Of course, of course. I do tend to get
carried away when I start taking about history.” He led us back to
the front door with only a few more random comments. “Are we still
on for chess next Tuesday?” he asked casually.

“You bet,” my grandpa said
halfheartedly. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

Hurriedly I made my escape before Mr.
Gadner thought of something else to say. Taking a deep breath, I
closed my mind off just for a second. The fresh air did help.
Breathing it in deeply, I tried to calm my queasy stomach and
nerves. My grandpa led me away from the professor’s house. After a
few short blocks he stepped off the sidewalk and led me to a small
park. It was thankfully empty. My grandpa’s arm settled across my
shoulders, pulling me against his chest.

“Are you okay, honey?” he
asked.

“No, not really, grandpa,” I snapped,
letting my anger and fear slip into my voice unexpectedly. The
harsh sound surprised her, but she did not let up. “I’m going to be
sacrificed to some crazy Aztec god. Tomorrow! How am I supposed to
feel about that? I’m terrified.”

My grandpa wrapped me in a silent hug.
He smelled like hot chocolate. The comforting scent took a little
of the edge off my anger, but only a little. My grandpa probably
wanted to tell me that it would be okay, that we would find a way
to save me in time, but his open mouth could not utter the words. I
knew he would give up his own life to save mine, but he knew he had
no say in the matter. The ancient god would claim me and there was
nothing he could do about it. Tears flowed freely down his
face.

“I hate her,” I said, my voice muffled
by my grandpa’s shirt. “I hate her!” I repeated, this time more
vehemently. “All of this is happening because one selfish girl
wouldn’t just die! How could she do this? I hate her!”

“Arra,” my grandpa said. His voice was
stern. “She was asked to be a human sacrifice! How could anyone
walk into that willingly?”

Pushing away from my grandpa as if he
had just turned to fire, I glared at him fiercely. He had been the
one to get upset when I presented my theory that helping Kivera
might save my own life. How could he judge my behavior now? “You’re
siding with her? Are you really that willing to watch another
family member die? To stand by and accept what fate has in store
for me?”

“Of course not,” he said. “I will do
anything to protect you. I just meant that she must have been
incredibly scared and foolish. Not everyone has your strength,
Arra. You shouldn’t judge her when you have no idea what she went
through. It’s not fair.”

“But how could she do this? Given the
choice of dying yourself or dooming your posterity to a fate you
can’t even face, how could she choose herself? Every daughter that
has died was murdered because of her. She might as well have done
it herself.” I leaned back against my grandpa’s shoulder. “How
could she do that?” The softness in my words reflected the defeated
thoughts running through my head.

I had listened to Mr. Gadner’s
horrifying description, hoping for some kind of clue, some way to
save myself, but nothing. He said there was no way out, no way to
escape the fire. There was no hope any more. Not for me, at least.
“How could she do this to me?” I whispered.

“I don’t know,” my grandpa said. His
voice was a barely audible sigh. “We’ll know soon enough, though.”
I stared at him, wondering exactly what he meant.

Chapter Nineteen

The walk was torturously long and
quiet. Neither of us seemed to be able to think of anything
comforting to say, so we both held our misery inside. My mom had
stared at us when we arrived at back at my house, eyeing us
carefully. We hardly looked like we’d had an enjoyable morning
together. When she asked if something was wrong, I nearly lost my
composure and started bawling right there on the doorstep. My
grandpa handled the question much better thankfully.

“No, no, Judy. We went for a walk and
ended up going a little too far. I think we’re both just a little
worn out.” He lied surprisingly well.

“Well, why don’t you stay for dinner
then, Alden. Henry will be home in a few hours,” she
said.

My grandpa glanced at me and nodded his
acceptance quickly. I sighed. He didn’t want to leave me alone, but
I couldn’t stand sitting around staring at him all afternoon, not
when he knew the truth.

“I think I’ll go take a nap,” I said. I
somehow managed a faint smile at my mom. “I’m beat.”

“That sounds like a good idea, honey.
I’ll wake you for dinner.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

I kicked off my shoes next to the door
before starting for my bedroom. I didn’t know if the dream would
come during the daytime, but what did it matter if it did come? I
knew what would come next. There was no denying it now. I just
wished I could have seen my brother one last time. I would miss his
smile and endless pranks. He never failed to lighten any
situation.

Thoughts of David enjoying his college
life, unaware that fate had somehow claimed me for its own, filled
my mind. Exhaustion swept over me. Sleep was all I wanted, dreams
or no.

“Oh, Arra,” my mom said handing me a
slip of paper “Tanner called this morning. He wanted you to call
him back.”