CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (49 page)

“I am heartened because I am speaking to one of the strongest and wisest gods,” she began, knowing that flattery was never amiss in godly society. “That fact gives me confidence that my problem is not to be a problem for long.”

The priest with the bloody burden moved away and another in a pristine green robe took his place. This one bore a tray that supported two finely fired clay cups. Snake and bird symbols chased each other around their rims. Quetzalcoatl took one. The second was offered to Mazu. She voiced her thanks as she took a whiff of the dark, cold liquid in the cup.

“That is xocoatl,” Quetzalcoatl explained. “It is a healthy elixir we drink.” Mazu took a sip of the thick and bitter brew, finding it horrid and in dire need of sweetening.

“I’ve never tasted anything like it,” she pronounced honestly. “I wish the friend for whom I search was here to try it.”

“I see. You are seeking someone.” Quetzalcoatl downed his drink and set the cup aside. “I hope you don’t think this friend has fallen unjustly into my hands. The ones honored by being sacrificed to me are captured in battle, or condemned by their own crimes.” Quetzalcoatl was certain he was in the clear under either scenario. None of the current prisoners his soldiers had paraded before him had an eastern cast to their features, and he had been studying them all closely in the hopes of finding someone special himself. “Furthermore, my people shun transients and immigrants. I am not sure why you think I can help you find this stray.”

“I had a vision,” Mazu explained, “and guidance from the elements to consult with you.”

“Well then,” he replied smugly, clearly pleased that his power and influence had permeated the reality of a neighboring realm, “tell me about this lost person so that I can find them before your cocoa water gets warm.”

“There is a flying creature that prowls the sky around the great lake of the City. The fishermen say it looks like a great bat, and some have heard it speak. It stole a young woman I had taken to see the Oracle at Buddha’s Retreat. Since you are Lord of the Sky, perhaps you know of it. The creature is called Mordecai.”

“Topiltzin!” Quetzalcoatl yelled out suddenly, causing Mazu to fumble her cup and spill a splotch of xocoatl on her robe. Another priest, carrying the tools of a scribe, hurried over. “Record us,” Quetzalcoatl ordered.

Topiltzin unrolled a blank animal skin and set out several small pots of paint he carried in a bag slung across his shoulders. He found a fresh brush and nodded to his leader to indicate he was ready to proceed.

“All of importance in my temple is recorded for the ages,” Quetzalcoatl said to Mazu. The scribe indicated he was ready to begin, and Quetzalcoatl spoke again. “I have heard of this Mordecai. He is bound to Lamasthu. Mordecai’s victims go straight to the slave markets, and if they are found unattractive or defective in any way they do not have a long career.” He adjusted his feathered wrist bands as Mazu absorbed the bad news. “Does your friend possess special beauty or talents that would spare her life?”

Mazu’s heart fell at the thought of Aavi being enslaved. “She is very beautiful, young, and innocent. I must seek her in the markets at once!”

She stood to leave, but Quetzalcoatl moved to prevent this. “I thought you wanted my help, goddess of the water. Describe this girl, so that Topiltzin may record her image.”

“But why?” Mazu asked, impatient to be on her way. “That will take time, and -”

“Topiltzin has a special gift. If you describe your friend to the last detail, his drawing will reveal her location. There will be no need to run to and fro searching like a dog after a rabbit.”

Mazu hoped her rash haste had not offended Quetzalcoatl. If his priest indeed had such a skill, it would be a great help. She sat back down and began to tell Topiltzin everything she had observed. “We call her Aavi,” Mazu began.

“Aavi.” Quetzalcoatl rolled the name over his tongue and listened intently as Mazu told of the strange and beautiful girl who had appeared with no memory in the streets of the City. As Topiltzin’s paints began to work their magic, Quetzalcoatl studied the painted record intently. As the images took shape and Mazu told him more about the girl’s strange behavior and lack of memory, he began to suspect something that at first seemed unlikely, but became more probable with every new detail.

“The Freeman D’Molay who works for all the gods is greatly concerned for her, and was searching with me until the Council set him upon other business regarding a beast that has been attacking the Olympian realm,” Mazu went on.

Quetzalcoatl nodded, his excitement growing. “Yes, the beast. The matter was brought before the Council.” He eyed Topiltzin’s progress. His drawing looked flat and unfinished, even though his portrait of the beautiful girl seemed complete. “It is said the beast is like a ravenous wild wolf-hog, a gigantic thing with six legs and rending teeth.” Topiltzin’s brush began to move again as his lord described the creature. “No one knows who set it upon the Olympians or why.”

Topiltzin worked over the painting in a feverish trance. As the beast was sketched out, both it and Aavi took on a more realistic look, as if each needed the other fully drawn for the picture to be true. Quetzalcoatl rejoiced inwardly at his luck, recognizing the beings in the painting as the very ones he had ambushed above Olympia. Topiltzin fell away from the work, exhausted. Quetzalcoatl asked the question burning inside him.

“Where are they? Where is the destroyer?”

“Destroyer?” Mazu asked, confused. Topiltzin mustered the strength to flip over the animal skin to reveal the answers magically created on its reverse. Quetzalcoatl gazed at the images of a ship approaching the harbor of Dioscrias and a cell holding the beast in the Fortress of Ares.

“The girl will be on a ship bound for the Greek realm,” Quetzalcoatl said.

“Aavi is on a ship?” Mazu looked with wonder at the new drawing that magically appeared.

“Yes,” Quetzalcoatl said. “But you will not be joining your friend.”

Quetzalcoatl thrust one hand toward Mazu. The bracelet at his wrist spun off his arm, transforming into a feathered snake that coiled tightly around Mazu. She was unable to even muster the breath to protest the assault, so snug was the serpent’s grip upon her. “Put her in a distant place,” Quetzalcoatl commanded the snake. “Chaac’s Temple will do for now. It is cold and dry, a good place to quell the force of water.” He bent to pick up the scroll with Aavi’s image brightly shining from it. “I do regret that you have fallen into this business, Mazu,” he said. “I’m sure your efforts were a sincere expression of your divine mission. Unfortunately, that mission is in conflict with my own, and power tends to decide these matters, does it not?”

Mazu found to her horror she could not transform to liquid to escape the monster’s grasp. Power was indeed deciding her fate. She was at the mercy of a far stronger and more devious god. As Mazu was carried into the sky toward the northernmost outposts of the Mayan realm, Quetzalcoatl grinned at his good fortune. He alone of the triad would capture the destructive beast and its keeper. They would be his exclusively to command. Lamasthu and Set would be left out in the cold, much like poor Mazu on the borders of the frigid lands beyond the Temple of Chaac.

“Topiltzin! More xocoatl! We must celebrate, then prepare for conquest!”

His aide hurried to procure more drink as Quetzalcoatl removed another bracelet from his wrist. Tossing it in the air, it hung spinning before him as he clapped his hands twice. A different, milder sky dragon was released from the rotating hoop. It undulated in the air before him as Quetzalcoatl bent to pick up the canvas and point out the ship.

“Find and follow,” he commanded his creation.

Mazu Captured By Quetzalcoatl’s Servant

Digital Collage (Steve Crompton, 2010).

On the great lake the breeze was steady. The Hektor caught the wind as it tacked back and forth, moving north and west. The crew kept the sails to the wind and the ship moved toward sunset at a fast clip. Aavi had grown used to the sway and dip of the vessel and was able to walk around the deck. She stood at the prow of the ship to watch the coastline behind them slowly fade into the horizon. In the distance, she could see a few birds soaring in the golden sky.

D’Molay was on the middle section of the deck talking jovially to Captain Zosimus. He had told Aavi he hoped to find out more about Dioscrias and what sort of transport might be found there. Aavi felt a bit nervous, even though D’Molay was not far away. She had kept her hood and cloak in place during the journey and avoided talking to any of the crew, but she was pretty sure most of them probably knew that a woman was on board. One of the sailors mopped the same spot on the deck nearby for the third time as he tried again to get a better look at her. His interest reminded Aavi of her experiences at the slave auction. She shuddered a little at the thought of it. Finally the man could no longer pretend to clean the same area and moved away.
 
She looked over her shoulder to see if D’Molay was still talking. Since their reunion, she did not want to be parted from him for even a moment; such was her fear of being taken by some sinister force. She needed him to be with her, almost desperately.

D’Molay noticed Aavi looking at him from the bow of the ship as he spoke with the Captain. They were both drinking from mugs as they stood there in the late afternoon sun light.

“So Dioscrias is not too big a port then?
 
I’m surprised you’re going there.”

“I deliver to any port that will pay for goods. It just so happens that there is a client who is in great need of oil, and I know a supplier, so it works out nicely, yes?”

“Yes, sounds like. So how long have you been in business?”

“Oh, maybe twenty years now. But not as long as my father. He was the Captain before me. He was favored by the gods and had been running cargo for them for at least three hundred years, probably more, who knows?
 
I hope that I can earn their favor someday too. What about you, eh? What do you and your woman do?
 
My crew has all sorts of ideas and suspicions. Once out of port and the course is set, there is plenty of time for rumors and stories.”
 
The Captain took a swig from his mug as he waited for D’Molay’s answer.

He wasn’t sure if Zosimus had just asked him if he was favored by the gods or not, but he decided to sidestep the issue and tell him about his search for Circe. “Ha, well, there’s not much to tell really. We’ve been sent to track down Circe and Scylla. I was hired to find them. As for the woman, she was once a servant of Circe’s and has the ability to sense the direction of her former mistress. She’s not much for conversation, but she’s perfect for this task. I got her from the god who hired me for this.”

“Ah, I see. So she senses Circe is on the other side of the great lake, eh?
 
I have heard of Circe, but not this Scylla.”

“Have you?
 
Any news of where Circe lives now?” D’Molay feigned interest in the question, not really expecting any useful information from the man.

The captain swiveled his head in the negative and pursed his lips. “No, no. I hear many bits of news, but nothing like that. Though I think some of her family live somewhere near Dioscrias, maybe her brother or a sister?
 
Ah, I don’t remember now. I heard it a long time ago.”

When D’Molay returned to Aavi she was still standing at the prow of the ship looking back at the receding shoreline. “Are you all right?” he asked her as he leaned against the same railing on which Aavi was resting her arms. As the wind blew, her long golden hair spilled out from under her hood and whipped across her face.