Serpent and Storm (36 page)

“He never knew,” said Lily-on-the-Water. “And I could not say. If I didn't know you for one of the Masked One's blessed people, I would not tell you, either.”

“But the Corn Priest said the one who sent the baby away was killed so no one would know.”

Lily-on-the-Water nodded. “And he was. But I saw the baby for a moment just after she was born. Her eyes were green. And Amaranth is just the right age. Her birthday is the fourth day of the month of flowers—the same as the green-eyed baby's.”

Sky Knife's head whirled. “Lily-on-the-Water,” he said. “A baby that kills its mother is not lucky. It is evil—it should be killed at birth.”

Lily-on-the-Water shook her head. “Your ways are not ours,” she said. “I warned you of that before. Do not judge our luck by yours. Amaranth will bring us luck.” Lily-on-the-Water's voice was stern. He hadn't heard her speak that way to him since that first night in his room.

Sky Knife and Lily-on-the-Water stepped out of the palace and into a narrow alley that separated the palace from the western side of the Storm God's pyramid. Lily-on-the-Water and Sky Knife walked around to the southern edge, where the stairs were.

As on the day of the choosing of the holy twin, it seemed the entire city's population stood in the main avenue in front of the pyramid. Just by the bottom of the steps stood a small knot of people, including Whiskers-of-Rat and Rabbit.

“These are people who have been invited to attend the ascension,” said Lily-on-the-Water. “Foreign dignitaries and the like. But I don't know these two.”

Lily-on-the-Water motioned to a guard.

“Wait,” said Sky Knife. “They are my friends. I asked them to come.”

Lily-on-the-Water waved the guard off. “Of course,” she said. “You may invite whomever you wish.”

Sky Knife and Lily-on-the-Water ascended the steps, the dignitaries, Whiskers-of-Rat and Rabbit just behind them. The king and his retinue were almost at the summit.

Musicians at the base of the pyramid played flutes and beat on tortoise-shell drums. Two men carrying elaborately painted conch shells stood several steps up, shells held out in front of them.

The steps were steep and the pyramid extremely high. Sky Knife's thighs and calves ached before they were halfway up.

“I suppose,” he said, puffing with exertion. “That this is easier than climbing the Masked One's pyramid.”

“Yes,” said Lily-on-the-Water. “There are a great many more steps on her pyramid.”

Sky Knife said nothing in reply. He was grateful that for the ascension of the king, if he had to climb a pyramid, he only had to climb the smaller one.

37

At the top of the pyramid stood a gleaming white temple. In front of the temple were the king, Talking Storm, Grasping Fire, Amaranth, Deer, and Jaguar's Daughter. Black Coyote held his mother's hand and bounced up and down in excitement.

Talking Storm picked up a red-hot coal out of a stone brazier and held it over his head. “Fire is life,” he said. “As the coal gives its life to make light and heat, the king gives his life for his city. As this exists both as tangible coal and intangible flame, so does the king's soul exist both here on the earth and also in heaven.”

Several of Talking Storm's attendants stepped forward. One grabbed Deer by the shoulders.

“The twin is prepared,” said Talking Storm. “As the king on earth ascends his mat, so the king must also ascend to his mat in heaven.”

Deer shook off the attendant's grasp and stepped forward. “I am the twin,” he said. “I am king and sacrifice.”

“Then let us begin,” said Talking Storm. He led the way into the temple, holding the coal out before him. Sky Knife expected the king to follow, but the others waited, looking at him. A small breeze rustled the feathers of his headdress and the blue feathers bobbed forward to caress Sky Knife's face.

Finally, Lily-on-the-Water elbowed Sky Knife. “Go on,” she said. “No one else can enter until He Who Sacrifices has gone in.”

Sky Knife nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.

The inside of the temple was painted in dark reds, oranges, and blues. Feathered serpents wrapped around the walls in a squirming mass. Some serpents' mouths were open, others swallowed the tails of their fellows.

The largest serpent's face was painted so that it faced the room. Its gaping mouth and fangs covered almost the entire wall. Its curled forked tongue sat squarely in the middle of the wall.

In the center of the room was a low stone table. Small braziers sat on the floor at each corner. A bag of copal sat on the table.

Sky Knife went to the head of the table and stood between it and the great Feathered Serpent on the wall. He reached into the bag and wrapped his hands around a double handful of the small hard incense chips. He drew out the copal and sprinkled it on the table. Some of the chips dribbled down into the braziers. White aromatic smoke rose in curling tendrils and spread around the room. Smoke floated lazily through a round opening in the ceiling. The heavy cloying smell of the incense filled Sky Knife's nose.

The king entered. Behind him came Amaranth, Jaguar's Daughter, Grasping Fire, and Lily-on-the-Water. The other dignitaries and Whiskers-of-Rat and Rabbit filed in last and spread out against the southern wall.

Deer stepped forward and knelt at the foot of the table. Copal smoke twisted around him and he breathed deeply of it.

“You are the sacrifice,” said Sky Knife. “Are you here to do your duty of your own free will?”

Deer looked up, surprised. Talking Storm frowned. Apparently this was not a question to be asked. But Sky Knife could not take Deer's heart if Deer refused. An unwilling sacrifice was an honor to no one.

“I … that is, yes,” said Deer. “I have come freely.” Again, his bandaged wrists went to his neck where his slave's torque had hung. Deer straightened up. “Yes,” he said with conviction. “I am free to say yes.”

“Then take your place,” said Sky Knife.

Deer rose and nodded. He breathed quickly and shallowly in near-panic and his eyes were wild, but he did not run. He laid himself on the table, trembling, but obedient to duty.

Sky Knife got out the Hand of God. Already it had a slight bluish glow to it. The knife was ready.

Sky Knife walked around the table, passing the knife over the edges of the table. Deer's eyes tracked the knife and he shivered violently.

Deer gestured to Sky Knife. Sky Knife knelt and leaned close.

“Yes?” whispered Sky Knife.

“You meant what you said, didn't you?” asked Deer. “I am free. I could have said no.”

“Yes,” said Sky Knife. “You are free to refuse.”

“But what would happen to my Little Weed?”

“I don't know,” said Sky Knife. “But I can't take your life without your permission.”

Deer closed his eyes. “That's the most frightening thing of all,” he said. “It was easier when I thought I didn't have a choice.”

“I will be quick,” said Sky Knife, his heart aching. Tears filled his eyes and threatened to rain down his face.

“Thank you. I … I'm glad you're my friend. I will remember you.”

Sky Knife touched Deer briefly on the shoulder and stood up. He held the knife over Deer's chest.

“It is time for the sacrifice,” said Sky Knife, rushing things a little. But Deer couldn't take much more delay without panicking.

“No!” shouted Black Coyote. “No! Bibi!”

Jaguar's Daughter grabbed her son around the shoulders. “Hush, little one,” she said.

“No!” Black Coyote's child scream filled the temple with its shrill sound. “No! I want my Bibi!”

“Hush,” said Jaguar's Daughter. “Deer must go to the heavens for you.”

Black Coyote burst out crying. “I don't want to be king anymore,” he sobbed. “And I don't want Poem-of-the-Sea's puppy, either. Mama, don't! No!”

Jaguar's Daughter was losing her grip on her son. Grasping Fire came to her aid and together they clung to the kicking and screaming child.

Sky Knife looked to Deer to see if he had anything to say to the boy, but Deer's eyes were screwed shut and he trembled. “Do it, Sky Knife,” he said. “Please—end this.”

Sky Knife did not hesitate again. He plunged the knife into Deer's stomach. Bright red blood gushed forth but did not touch Sky Knife. Sky Knife withdrew the knife and transferred it to his left hand, then he reached into Deer's chest and pulled out the beating heart.

As always, the heart came out easily in his grip as if the gods themselves had plucked it before Sky Knife could. Deer quivered once and was still.

Sky Knife held the beating heart above his head. Blue fire leaped from his hands into the sky. The heart itself beat furiously, almost leaping from Sky Knife's hand. Blue light radiated from it, bathing the room in its glow.

The glow brightened until Sky Knife had to shut his eyes against the light. Even through closed lids, the light pierced his eyes with pain. Sky Knife screamed as the heart exploded into a million fragments.

The light died. Sky Knife opened his eyes. Millions of blue flakes fluttered around the temple. Most of them concentrated on Black Coyote.

Jaguar's Daughter and Grasping Fire let go of the boy. Black Coyote stepped forward as if dazed and laid his hands on the table where Deer's body lay pale and lifeless.

The sparkles settled onto Black Coyote's skin. He looked at them and then looked up through the hole in the ceiling.

“Yes,” he said. His voice sounded strangely adult. “I agree. I will not rest until the true murderer of my father lies dead. I swear it in the name of my father, Tattooed Serpent.”

A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers as Black Coyote spoke the forbidden name. But that was as it should be. Black Coyote was king. The name of Tattooed Serpent was proscribed no longer.

The final glow died and the sparkles lay like frost on Black Coyote's skin. He brushed them off and looked at Sky Knife. “It is time to complete the ritual,” he said. He gestured toward Deer.

Sky Knife looked down and gasped. The gaping hole in Deer's chest was gone—his skin was smooth and unmarked by any blade. For a moment, Sky Knife hoped Deer would open his eyes, sit up. But he knew that was impossible. The twin had to die.

So why had the wound disappeared?

Talking Storm came up to stand on the opposite side of the table. “Do not be alarmed, Sky Knife,” he said. “The skin must be whole so that the Golden Cloak may be removed intact.”

“Golden Cloak?” asked Sky Knife, though as he said it, the meaning became clear. Deer's skin must be removed.

“As the corn sheds its husk, so the twin sheds his Golden Cloak,” said Talking Storm.

Sky Knife remembered Deer's words now. Deer would lose his life, his skin, and then his flesh. He would be unmade as if he had never been. For there could only be one king, one body. And that was Black Coyote.

Sky Knife nodded. “All right,” he said. “But if there are any rituals to be observed now, I don't know them.”

Talking Storm smiled. “Today, you are He Who Sacrifices. You can decide on the ritual. If you don't wish any, just begin to make the cuts.”

“I don't know how,” said Sky Knife. “I've never flayed anyone.”

Talking Storm put an arm under Deer's shoulders and the other arm under the dwarf's knees and carefully turned the sacrifice over.

“Start with the back,” said Talking Storm. “Make a cut from the neck to the small of the back, and another cut for each limb. The last cut should be from the neck to the top of the head.”

“That's all?” asked Sky Knife.

Talking Storm stepped back and bowed. “Try it and see.”

Sky Knife nodded and held the knife over Deer's body. The knife slipped easily into the skin and made a clean cut down Deer's back. Sky Knife made the other cuts quickly.

The skin began to slide away from the body. The edges along the cuts writhed and pulled as if controlled by invisible fingers. Talking Storm returned to the table. “Help it,” he said. “It cannot come off by itself, even if it seems so.”

Sky Knife replaced his knife in its bag and pulled at the edges of the skin along Deer's back with timid fingers. The skin felt warm and soft, almost like an animal's fur. The skin slid away from the body eagerly. Sky Knife pulled the skin off Deer's arms and legs.

Finally, there was nothing left but the head. Sky Knife reached under Deer's scalp and pulled. The skin came away easily.

Sky Knife stood in front of the family and the dignitaries, Deer's whole skin in his hand.

“The Golden Cloak,” said Talking Storm. “Go, show it to the crowd. The blue flame should have already indicated that they have a new king, but the Cloak will confirm it.”

The skin waved and fluttered in Sky Knife's hands as if caught in the wind. It had a life of its own. Sky Knife kept a firm grip on it and walked to the entrance of the temple.

He stepped onto the platform in front of the temple just as the rays of the setting sun touched the summit of the western mountains. Sky Knife stepped forward to the top of the steps and held out the skin.

The crowd roared its approval. The skin fluttered like a banner as he held it out to them.

The thunderous ovation lasted until the last rays of the sun faded and the temple platform was wrapped in dusk.

Sky Knife turned and went back into the temple.

“Give the skin to Talking Storm,” said Lily-on-the-Water. “It is time for the Dance.”

“No,” said Talking Storm. “The Dance is not my honor to have.”

“Then who will be the Dancer?” asked Lily-on-the-Water. “With the Corn Priest dead, I thought you would…”

“No,” said Talking Storm. “He Who Sacrifices is also the Dancer. It has always been so.”

“But he doesn't know the Dance,” said Lily-on-the-Water. “Blessed by the Masked One or not, there has been enough strangeness about this ascension. Sky Knife simply hasn't been trained for this. His ways are not ours.”