The Bloodgate Guardian (18 page)

Blood Gatherer laughed. “If you were aiming for my heart, you missed dreadfully, for I have none.”

Agony pounded in her head. The pressure on her throat was unbearable. Surely the bones in her spine were close to shattering. She couldn’t feel her arms and couldn’t get enough air to curse the foul creature, so she kicked out frantically, hoping to dislodge its grip so she could breathe. She felt her boot slam into something soft…and kept sinking deeper with a wet, fleshy sound.

“She’s mine!” Sam roared. “You promised not to hurt her!”

The demon hurled her backward. Her boot stuck and she fell awkwardly. Her skull slammed against stone. Chest heaving, she concentrated on breathing and not passing out. When she managed to crack open an eye, she stared up at Blood Gatherer looming above her. A boot-sized hole was slowly filling back out in the demon’s abdomen.

“Then ensure she opens the Gate to Xibalba or I’ll feast on her brains and open it myself!”

Jaid gripped the knife in her right hand so tightly that its carved feathers and scales dug into her palm. She stared down at the map inlaid in the temple floor. Terror was a cold, slimy ball churning and rolling in her stomach.

Even if she managed to key the Gate to her blood and escape through to Xibalba without any demons escaping or following, how could she get back? How could she hope to protect herself in hell? What if her father had died the very first night?

Deep rasps and low muttered curses jerked her gaze to the entry on the far side of the cavern. Wrack alternately carried and dragged his brother into the Temple of Days and dumped Ruin against the wall. They’d bound his arms and legs in heavy chains, and his golden eyes blazed with the jaguar’s fury.

Blood Gatherer squatted down beside him and smiled widely at her. The demon didn’t have to voice his threats; the White Dagger flashed against the dusky skin of Ruin’s chest.

His soul would be captured in that damned knife for eternity. His curse would never end, and he’d never find peace with his gods in First Five Sky.

I have to find a way to save us both.

Taking a deep, shaking breath, she held his gaze and sliced her palm open. Pain burned up her arm, but hotter yet was the smoldering flames in his gaze. He made a low, rumbling noise of hunger, and she remembered his mouth against her skin, his power flooding her. Already, she felt a slow, deep throb of awakening power, fed by his desire and her offering of blood.

“Remember what I did to reveal the White Dagger’s hiding place,”
he whispered in her mind.
“See if your father has another warning before you key the Gate to your blood.”

Giving him a small nod, she held her hand over the blue pool painted on the map. If the Temple of Days had been found above ground, the map wouldn’t have made sense. There was no large body of water in Iximche itself. She let blood drip onto the map and immediately felt a charge of energy rising in the chamber. Ruin chanted softly and the magic rose higher. Paint shimmered like water, and a voice rose through the stone floor.

Disappointment choked her. It wasn’t her father’s voice, but a woman’s, and she couldn’t understand the words.

“Butterfly Star!” Wrack lurched to his feet and rushed to the edge of the map. “Bring her through.”

“Is it possible?”
she asked Ruin.
“I can bargain with him if he thinks I can save her.”

“Yes, if you touch only the symbols I say in the locking spell.”

“Ruin’s life for hers,” Jaid said aloud, her voice shaking. “Keep him safe, and I’ll bring her through. Don’t let the demon kill him.”

The demon bellowed and howled with fury. “The dead belong to Xibalba! You can’t touch her!”

“Done.” Wrack swore, his eyes grim. “Bring her to me.”

Listening to Ruin’s voice in her mind, she made a quick circuit about the room, running faster, pressing her hand against whatever carved glyphs he ordered, while Blood Gatherer’s fury raged louder and louder. The ground rumbled beneath her feet, but she didn’t dare stop.

“Last one.”
The jaguar paced back and forth, faster and faster, tail lashing.
“Run to the Gate!”

Jaid ran. The hair on the back of her neck crawled, and she hunched her shoulders. Ruin snarled out loud and threw his body toward the demon, but there was nothing he could do if Blood Gatherer grabbed her, let alone if he decided to use his terrible power against her. So far, he hadn’t called forth her blood, but if she failed to open the Gate…

Instinctively, she dodged and ducked low. The demon swung too high to grab her throat, but did catch a few strands of hair. Struggling and twisting, she yanked free, eyes streaming, and stumbled down the tunnel to the pool.

Without slowing, she ran straight into the water. The other woman’s voice echoed in the cave, deafeningly loud and shrill with terror but distorted through the watery Gate.

Magic hummed inside Jaid, filling her like warm, thick honey as golden as Ruin’s eyes. Blood dripped on the water and the woman’s intense screams ratcheted up another notch.

A slim hand flailed up through the water. Jaid seized the hand and pulled the woman through. She caught a glimpse of a pretty face, dark hair, eyes wide with terror, and then she shoved the woman staggering toward the shore.

Her bones ached with each pulse of magic and her ears throbbed as though her ear drums would explode, yet Jaid hesitated. She’d been wrong before. So many people had died. Ruin was still trapped, and she couldn’t trust the man who’d killed him over and over to keep him safe this time. How could she leave him behind?

A jaguar scream echoed in the cave, rebounding louder.
“Go!”

She pictured her father from one of her fondest memories: his craggy face illuminated by a camp lantern, forehead lined as he studied an inscription. He’d lifted his head, saw her as a young child, watching and so eager to help him, and he had smiled with welcome.
I’m coming, Dad.

To Ruin, she whispered,
“I love you.”

She dove through the Gate to Xibalba.

Using the diversion Jaid’s flight provided, Ruin summoned his powers and struggled free of the chains entrapping him.
Great Feathered Serpent, protect her,
he prayed.
Bring her out of Xibalba alive and well.

No one had ever meant so much to him before. Not the woman he’d given away as queen, nor the brother for whom he’d doomed his city to save. For Jaid, he would doom this world and the ones within the Gates.

The demons should have cut out his love-blinded heart centuries ago.

They raced after her toward the pool. Blood Gatherer charged after Jaid, diving into the water just as she’d done, but the demon surfaced, spluttering and shrieking with rage. The Gate was locked.

Ruin smiled. He’d taught her well.

A scream of agony rebounded in the cave, pulling his attention to his brother. Wrack had fallen to his knees on the sands and stared at the woman Jaid had managed to pull through the Gate. Even now, after centuries of animosity, that cry of wounded pain from his brother demanded his assistance.

The guilt of all these lifetimes weighed heavier than ever on Ruin’s soul, for the loveliest woman ever born on the highlands had been ruined. Screaming mindlessly, Butterfly Star flitted like her namesake, frantic and wild about the cave. She didn’t recognize the man who loved her. The bones of her ribcage protruded, jagged and broken around the maw that had once held her heart. Entrails hung about her waist like a living skirt, dark with rot and disease. Her perfect cacao complexion was spotted with plague. Her teeth were broken and blackened, her lovely eyes wide with terror and madness.

Sobbing, Wrack grabbed her arm and tried to soothe her crazed flight. “It’s me, Butterfly. Don’t you remember?”

She fought and twisted against his grip, clawing at his face like a maddened beast. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her despite her struggles. “See, brother? See what your pride and dedication to duty have wrought?”

Guilt still ate at Ruin, but he knew there must be an untruth somewhere in Wrack’s memory of what had happened to her. “If she had been sacrificed, she would be safe in First Five Sky. She would never have travailed the White Road through Xibalba.”

His brother snarled and lunged at him, dragging the fighting, rabid woman with him. “You did this! It’s your fault!”

Blood Gatherer finally ceased his temper and let out a long, loud laugh that sliced down Ruin’s spine like blades. “Oh, high and mighty priest, oh, great king. How ignorant you are. How pitiful. How insignificant. You rail and squabble against each other for centuries, never looking deeper to see who your true enemy might be. Of course she was sacrificed, but by a sorcerer who was only too willing to give us her soul instead of his own.”

“You trapped her soul in the White Dagger,” Ruin whispered, his voice breaking as well as his heart. Now he knew why she’d suffered in Xibalba so long. His brother would have shared her fate if he hadn’t freed his soul. If he’d known she was trapped, too, could he have released her? Could he have ended their suffering hundreds of years ago? “You planned it all, didn’t you?”

“We know the prophesies as well as you.”

Standing, Wrack kept his arms around his woman, pinning her flailing arms to keep her from gouging out his eyes. “What prophesies?”

“The Return was foretold before the end of the age,” Blood Gatherer replied. “We are determined that the Lords of Death should rule both below and above, not our exalted brothers who left this world behind.”

Ruin felt as though the ground had crumbled out from beneath his feet, revealing a yawning bottomless pit to swallow him whole. He’d lost count of the passing
katuns
, but the end of the age must be close. Could the Lords of Xibalba have truly been planning this for so long?

“The next
baktun
will be ours, priest. We will rule this earth, the Gates, and every world within.”

“Kukulkan will never allow it!”

The demon howled. “He is nothing! We shall rule First Five Sky in his stead! I will rip his feathers from his body and wear them still bloody upon my head! I shall eat his heart out of his chest! Chac is piss in the wind; Ix Chel a whore of the night, moaning her pleasure when I impale her. They are nothing!”

“This human has proven worthless.” Shooting a glare at the man wearing a mockery of priestly attire, Blood Gatherer splashed ashore. “Give me the Gates, priest.”

Staring at the broken man, Ruin felt pity in his heart. Jaid cared for this man, and he knew all too well the punishing power of a Xibalban Lord. Even he would be broken by the demons eventually, regardless of any bravado he pretended now. “No.”

Blood Gatherer looked to Wrack. “Your woman’s soul lives in my dagger. Yours did, too, before your brother stole you. Would you like to join her again?”

“I shall free her or die.”

The demon stroked his thumb across the White Dagger’s brutal edge. Tainted blood soaked into the blade, coloring the crystal a glowing reddish pink.

Butterfly Star went limp and collapsed to the sand. Her breath expelled on a long rattle. Wrack shook her violently and called her name, but she was gone.

“Her soul is mine, king. As long as her soul lives in the White Dagger, her body obeys my commands. She has no will, no spirit, no life. You can never end her torment. Your only hope is to join her. At least then you can suffer together.”

Bent over her protectively, Wrack cried tears like rain and rocked her as gently as a babe.

Ruin couldn’t bear to see his brother in such pain. If Jaid were tortured like this, how would he feel? Was there anything beneath Raised-Up Sky that he would not give to see her free? How could he do anything less for his brother? Wearily, he said, “Free them both, and I will serve you. I will open the Gates at your command.”

“Swear it on your great god.”

“As Great Feathered Serpent breathes air into my lungs so I might walk again to do his will until this age ends, so I swear.”

Laughing, Blood Gatherer plunged the knife into the woman’s barren abdominal cavity. She twitched and air whistled through her gaping lips. He pulled the White Dagger away, and immediately, flesh began closing over the gaping hole. “It is done.”

Butterfly Star awakened, but this time she didn’t scream like a mindless thing. Her big doe eyes latched onto the man holding her and tears overflowed. “Hunahpu?”

Laughing softly, he enfolded her in his arms and held her against his chest.

Swallowing hard to clear the lump in his throat, Ruin said, “Free my brother too. They should both be free to pass to First Five Sky.”

“I cannot,” Blood Gatherer purred out a pleased smile. “To free your brother, you must retrieve his heart from my brethren. On this side of the Gate, I can do nothing to send him to the White Road.”

Ruin bowed his head and prayed.
Forgive me, Great Feathered Serpent, for I must empty all of Xibalba on this earth.

Endless water and darkness sucked Jaid deeper. Her lungs felt shriveled, her head pounded, and her hands and legs numbed. Finally, she broke the surface and gulped air. It took several grateful breaths before she realized that air was stale and foul, vaguely powdery like desiccated flesh and manure.

Xibalba, the Place of Fright, the home of
cizins
, demons which smelled very bad. She remembered Geoffrey laughing and saying all demons had a gas problem. Fond tears burned her eyes. He wouldn’t believe how far she’d come.

She’d studied the Maya all her life, but she’d never once thought about what the Place of Fright would actually be like. The Christian view of hell was fire and brimstone; the Maya hell was endless water, flowing and winding through the darkness. Sloshes and drips echoed everywhere. The vague grayish light that filtered through shadows and cobwebs above didn’t show any hope of land or walls.

The darkness and water went on forever, gnawing away at her sanity.

Treading water, she huddled as low as possible and strained to see or hear anything that might guide her to her father…and away from the demons who were surely here. Ruin’s knife kept making the water splash too much. As much as she yearned for a weapon ready in her hand, she pushed the blade underneath her belt to free her hands.

Already, her arms burned with exhaustion. After spending her whole life with her nose buried in a book, she didn’t have great stamina. She couldn’t swim for hours. What happened when her head sank beneath the surface? If she was in hell when she died, would she spend the rest of eternity swimming these endless watery halls?

Think, Jaid. Use that so-called brilliant mind for something more than a panic attack.

Why had Butterfly Star been so readily available? She had to have been bait. They knew the twins would want her freed in whatever desperate negotiations they managed. So why were there no demons waiting at the Xibalban Gate? Didn’t they know she was here?

Maybe I’m bait too. Now I know what it feels like to be a worm quivering on the hook, waiting to be swallowed whole.

Warbled sounds echoed through the watery underworld like a hint of ghostly wails. Goose bumps stacked ever higher on her arms, but she couldn’t stop paddling long enough to shiver. If they needed bait in Xibalba, then perhaps her father was not only still alive, but had also managed to evade them, or at least disrupt their plans.

Thinking quickly, she decided to push instead of wait. The more information she gained, the better. “Which Lord of the Night are you?”

She waited, barely breathing. Someone was out there watching, she knew it. Finally, the watcher answered.

“One Death, the supreme Lord of Xibalba.”

She understood the words, although she couldn’t identify the dialect. Did it even matter here, where supposedly only the dead walked? This demon’s voice sounded much more even and normal than Blood Gatherer’s metallic screech, but her ears itched and her teeth ached. She couldn’t put a finger on what bothered her about that voice.

If she was bait to entrap her father, then she needed leverage. She needed something that would foil the demon that held Ruin. A way to help him win. As long as his brother was cursed, he’d never break free, either, so she needed to un-curse them both.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to know,” she began casually. “When someone is sacrificed with the White Dagger, what do you do with the heart?”

“What an amusing question.” Louder, the scratchy voice came from the right. Fighting her instincts that demanded she tear off screaming in the opposite direction, she huddled low in the water. “Personally, I prefer to eat it.”

Her hopes plummeted. If she couldn’t retrieve Wrack’s heart and free him from the Xibalban demons, then Ruin would be forever trapped. His brother would always be the chain that prevented him from ending the demons’ plans.

The demon continued as though he merely mused aloud. “Some of my brethren adore the smell of roasting meat and so burn the offering.”

“But what about your greatest enemies? What do you do to honor them?”

The demon cackled. Finally, she realized why the voice distressed her so much. It sounded like millions of armored roaches clacking their bristled legs together. Her skin crawled, and it was all she could do not to swat at her body to brush invisible bugs away.

“No great honored ones come here. They die in battle and go directly to rest in the shade of the Great Ceiba or hang themselves and Ixtab, Rope Woman, shines upon them as they walk the White Road. Only the dishonorable travail in the bowels of Xibalba, or the stupid, or unlucky. Which are you?”

“All the above,” she muttered, straining her eyes. Darkness had faded to murky gray draped everywhere with swirling, dizzying shadows. Was she still inside the Gate? She didn’t feel a current, but her boot brushed the rocky bottom, where before, she’d been forced to tread water. Gratefully, she eased forward and gained her footing, although she remained low in the water.

A bony arm wrapped around her throat.

She tore at the sinewy arm with her free hand and scored the pale bloodless flesh.

The demon hissed in her ear, a legion of buzzing wings. “Be still. If I had wanted you dead so quickly, I would have eaten the heart out of your chest as soon as you arrived in my domain.” A growl rattled out of his throat. “I smell…”

He seized her left wrist and lifted her hand toward his mouth. The wound she’d used for the sacrifice still trickled blood. A forked tongue flickered out, the tips sharp like razors, widening the gash in her palm.

Her heart thudded so hard that her ribs ached and her head felt like it was going to float away from her body. Gritting her teeth, she jerked her arm and tried to silence the babbling moans escaping her mouth.

“It’s been so long.” One Death sighed against her palm, his fingers crushing her wrist. “So fresh. So bright. Tell me, Lady Scholar, has your education included the Gates?”

She froze, trying to devise a plan. Why would he know she was a scholar, unless they’d already taken her father and tortured him? “Of course. How else did I arrive here?”

“Indeed,” the demon snarled. “I hope you prove more knowledgeable than your esteemed father.”

“Give him to me and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“You’ll tell me everything even if I admit I have already feasted on his heart.”

Tears burned but she refused to believe it.
He’s still alive. He is!
She forced her voice louder, ringing with authority. “The time has come for the Return. Will you be locked away while Kukulkan reclaims my world?”

The demon’s tongue snapped back into his mouth. “The Lords of Death have always ruled below; now we shall rule your world as well!”

Softly, she whispered, “What of the worlds within the Gates? Don’t you want to rule First Five Sky?”

Hissing, One Death tightened his arm about her throat. “When the roots and branches of the Great Ceiba are hacked and burned, the entire tree will die.”

“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.