Zally's Book (12 page)

The serpent sighed, blowing a gust of hot air on us. “You will help me find my very own Egg?”

“Your egg is lost?” I asked.

The serpent hissed, “Yessss.”

“Of course we will help you!” Imishi said stoutly.

Kir whinnied enthusiastically, and Monty bobbed up and down, squawking, “Find the egg, find the egg!”

I wasn't sure what to do. We had just reached the base of a volcano that was probably riddled with crevices and caves—plenty of places that a thief could hide an egg,
if
the thief hadn't taken the egg somewhere else entirely or eaten it.

“What happened?” I asked Kukulkan. “How long has the egg been missing?”

The serpent mother sorrowfully shook her head. “I went to sleep here. In the morning, Egg was gone.”

“Do any of you have ideas?” I asked, turning to the others.

“Find the egg!” Monty repeated helpfully.

Kir gave a gentle snort and sent an image of the night sky, reminding me that it would soon be dark.

Hesitating, Imishi said, “Could you—could you draw a map, perhaps?”

I stared at her in surprise. It was certainly worth a try. I pulled the roll of map paper out of my bag,
along with my quill pen. I calmly explained to Kukulkan what I was trying to do.

I thought that if I could touch the feathered serpent while working, I might feel some connection with the egg that would help. The serpent gradually lowered herself until she was lying flat on the ground. I sat by her on the rock floor, spread out a fresh map page, and leaned back against her. Her skin was smooth and muscley, not at all slippery. I opened my thoughts to hers and let her worry touch me. The quill, still loaded with cacao ink, seemed to spring to life in my hand. I was soon sketching.

When my map was finished, I stared at it. It showed a glowing orange hole halfway up the volcano where the egg was now. Kir carried Imishi and me while I directed, Monty rode on Imishi's shoulder, and Kukulkan—her wings beating as fast as a hummingbird's—hovered along beside us. Kir made good speed up the rock slope despite the waning light. Before darkness fell completely, however, Kukulkan drew a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled a ball of green fire that hovered in midair and followed us to light our way.

Half an hour later, we reached the cave to which my map led us. Unfortunately, its mouth was only a few feet high, too small to allow the feathered serpent
or Kir inside. So Imishi and I agreed to search if we could take the green fire with us. Kukulkan gladly sent it through the opening ahead of us. We ducked and followed it into the cave. Monty stayed on the fairy girl's shoulder.

The green light lifted itself toward the high cavern ceiling. Before long, Monty began squawking and screaming one word over and over: “Thief, thief!” Hopping down, he scrabbled along the cave floor.

Exchanging surprised glances, Imishi and I hurried after him. When we caught up with Monty, he was perched on a short stalagmite above a scooped-out area in the cave floor that formed a sort of nest—complete with one copper-shelled egg the size of a football. I leaned down to pick it up.

A deep voice reverberated in the cavern. “Who dares to disturb the fearsome and mighty Kukulkan?”

Imishi and I gaped at each other in shock. Could it be true? Could there really be another Kukulkan?

“Thief, thief!” Monty squawked again, then zoomed to dive-bomb something on the floor of the cavern. The green ball of fire moved to shed its light on the area.

“No, you shall not look upon me!” the voice boomed. “All who challenge the glorious Kukulkan
are doomed! Flee for your lives!” The voice became more frantic.

We looked at the ceiling and walls, behind rocks, trying to find where the voice was coming from. Monty squawked and swooped at the thing on the floor again. The grand voice boomed once more, “Flee! Fl—” but this time it cut off in a strangled yelp, accompanied by a thundering
Squawwwk!

“Monty?!” Imishi cried.

Monty's squawk had exploded through the walls at the same moment that he had swooped, and something had made his voice sound louder. I went closer to see what he had found. Monty's claws were firmly wrapped around the tail of a plump lizard a few feet long. I couldn't tell what kind of lizard, because its head was hidden in a hole in the cavern wall.

The green ball of light hovered closer to show us more. The neck and shoulders of the lizard sprouted a variety of mismatched feathers that seemed to be stuck on with gooey sap. Several of the emerald green feathers were a perfect match to Monty's stolen tail feathers. Without needing to be asked, Imishi grasped the tail and helped Monty pull while I took the shoulders and legs to extract the lizard's head from the hole in
the wall. We succeeded almost immediately, and I blocked the hole with the toe of my boot so the lizard could not stick its head back in. A boom echoed through the chamber.

The lizard, which looked like an oversized iguana, except for its shiny green-brown skin and the feathers glued to it, reared back and said, “Beware the wrath of the powerful Kukulkan. Flee, flee!” But the voice was tiny, high, and almost funny.

My brothers and I used to watch
The Wizard of Oz
together every Thanksgiving, and this situation reminded me of the scene where Toto pulls aside the curtain on the man pretending to be the wizard. I ducked my head down by the hole in the wall, said, “Who?” and covered it again with my boot. My voice instantly blasted through the cavern with a resounding “Whooooo!”

The lizard struggled and thrashed, trying to get away. “I must protect my egg.”

“You!” Imishi exclaimed.
“You
stole Kukulkan's egg? You are nothing more than a common huchu lizard.”

“You do not understand; I
am
Kukulkan,” the lizard objected.

“Thief, thief!” Monty repeated with conviction.

I sensed a sort of desperation from the huchu lizard.

“You're an impostor,” I said softly, “and you've done some very bad things.”

The lizard stopped struggling. “I am the great …,” it began feebly.

I gave my head a firm shake and looked sternly into the miserable huchu lizard's eyes. “Don't make things worse. Why did you do it?”

“No one respected me, and I was lonely. I only wanted to show everyone that I am no different from Kukulkan. I needed the feathers to look like her. I would not have harmed the egg. I would have raised the child as my own, and it would have treated me as its mother.” The voice became whiny. “I just needed a chance to show love…. I'm sorry.”

I shook my head. “You stole a child—just to demonstrate how
great
you are and that you deserve love?” I could sense the huchu's desperate loneliness and misery, but that did not excuse what she had done. She was not an innocent. Kukulkan had been so distraught that she could well have killed us by mistake, thinking
we
had taken her egg.

“You're a liar, a thief, and a kidnapper. Those things do not make you
deserving
,” I said firmly.

“I never meant to hurt anyone,” the miserable lizard said.

I went back over to the stone nest, gently scooped up the egg, and placed it into the Guatemalan bag with my cacao pod. “You can't steal greatness or love—you have to earn it,” I told the lizard after Monty and Imishi had let her go. “If you really want to be great, do something good for someone
else
. That will impress everyone a lot more than trying to be someone you're not.”

We returned to Kir and Kukulkan to share the news. With the green orb shedding its light in the darkness of evening, Imishi and I told the strange story of the self-important huchu. I removed the cacao pod from my bag so that I could get a good grasp on the coppery egg and pull it out. The feathered serpent was ecstatic to see her egg. Accepting it from me, she tucked it tightly under one feathered wing and made a trilling, cooing sound. I started to put the pod back into my bag when Kukulkan noticed and touched the tip of her massive snout to the pod.

“Strong magic,” she breathed warmly. “Healing magic.” She bowed her head. “I am grateful.”

I could feel waves of happiness rolling from
Kukulkan. She twirled in an excited spiral until she was almost completely upright. She then gradually lowered herself back onto the rocky volcanic mountainside in a smooth, even curl, like a neatly coiled rope with a mound of feathers on top. When she was settled, she opened the wing that cradled the coppery egg again to show us that it now shone with flecks of glitter, like the sparkles on the shell of my pod.

“Healthy,” the feathered serpent said. “My egg will hatch soon.” With that, she tucked the egg into the center of the feather-covered coil and settled down with a contented snaky sigh. “You ssssssleep,” she told us all in a soft voice. “I will guard you.”

And sleep we did—all of us, right there on the side of the mountain. I still had that weird being-watched feeling, but I figured that Kukulkan could protect us from just about anything.

Monty perched protectively on the mound of Kukulkan's feathers, softly squawking, “Safe now, safe now.” Kukulkan did not object, and Monty put his head under his wing.

It was not the most comfortable night we ever spent, but we were exhausted and easily fell asleep despite the rocky ground beneath us.

We awoke at dawn, sore and yet refreshed. I hate to admit it, but getting up early
felt
right. There
was an urgency in my heart, pushing me to get to Kib Valley as soon as possible. I could sense the same need to get moving from Imishi and Kir.

While we slept, the lizard had come out of the cave and apologetically presented herself to the real Kukulkan, who had listened and forgiven her. I wondered if I had been too hard on the miserable creature.

After eating the last of our fairy food and breaking open the last pod of fairy water, sharing it amongst the group, I pointed to the lizard. “We can take her with us, if you need us to,” I said to Kukulkan.

“No,” she said. “I will keep the small Kuku with me. She will not be lonely.”

It surprised me that the feathered serpent could be so forgiving after all the worry the smaller reptile had put her through. But legend said that Kukulkan was the wisest of creatures, so I trusted that she knew what was best. We said our good-byes to Kukulkan, who, after thanking us again, held her egg under one wing, tucked the huchu lizard under the other, and flew gently away using her two pairs of free wings.

We spent the morning walking around the slope of the volcano to the other side. As we traveled, we heard an occasional rumbling or felt a tremor from deep within the volcano, definitely not comforting. I still had that faint prickly feeling that someone—or
some
thing
—was watching us. Finally we reached the point where we could begin our descent.

“I know where we are now!” Imishi said, excitement lighting her voice. “I can see the edge of the valley!”

Kir, thinking of his sire, trotted forward.

We carefully began our downward climb. White billows of steam and gray smoke rose from the tip of the cone far above us, making us all uneasy and eager to be away from the restless mountain. As we zigzagged on the steepest parts, we heard a crack and a boom. More clouds of steam puffed from the top of the mountain. The air was oppressively hot. Soon, little bits of something soft and warm began falling on us. Thinking that it was rain, I put a hand out to catch some drops, but instead of water, flecks of warm ash fell on my palm.

This could not be a good sign. My hand clenched, and my knees felt wobbly.

Kir gave a warning whinny.

Imishi pointed ahead to a flat drop-off directly below us. “We need to avoid that area,” she said. “Those are the cliffs where the spider lives.”

I consulted the map. “It looks like we can go either this direction or that.” I pointed out the slopes to either side of the cliffs. “Once we get to the
bottom, it's not far to the edge of the valley.”