He passed under a giant tree. The long curling branches gave him temporary refuge from the continuous storm.
The tree was known as a Ceiba pentandra. According to ancient Maya mythology, a sacred ceiba stood at the center of the earth, connecting Xibalba and the sky with the terrestrial world. Hence, its modern nickname of World Tree. The fact that a ceiba grew in the physical manifestation of Xibalba was not lost on Tum.
Unfortunately, Tum's people had lost their connection to the ceiba over the years. They still held it in reverence. They even spared it when cutting timber. But those actions were habitual. By and large, they lacked faith in the old ways.
But not Tum. He sensed the natural order that existed just beneath the surface of all living things.
He wasn't a fool. Unlike his ancient ancestors, he knew how rain worked. It only rained if certain atmospheric conditions were met. Thus, science explained the rain. However, it didn't explain how those atmospheric conditions came to pass in the first place. It didn't explain why some regions experienced years of drought while others enjoyed consistent, steady showers.
Only Chaac explained those things.
He helped Reed carry Crowley to the edge of the jungle. Then he shifted positions and walked east.
He felt terrible about Alonzo. But he felt no sorrow, no shame for what he'd done to Crowley. The man had already killed an innocent cougar. If Tum hadn't stopped him, he would've killed the strange creature as well.
With Reed's help, he laid Crowley on the ground. Without a word, Reed spun around and walked back to camp, joining Beverly in the process. Tum followed them at a short distance.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so uneasy. It was the rain's fault. It wasn't ordinary rain, the type city-dwellers ran from in the so-called civilized world. No, this was a special rain, a mystical rain.
His ancient ancestors would've been puzzled by it. They'd considered Chaac to be a largely friendly god who rarely became disgruntled with ordinary peasants. But when he did, his preferred method of punishment was to deny rain, to bring about a drought. Yes, they would've considered rain to be a blessing.
But not this rain.
This rain was different. Every drop sparked with fury. The mist swirled chaotically. The wind ripped across the canyon, full of vengeful wrath. Thunder rumbled at a deafening volume. Lightning tore the sky apart.
At the edge of camp, Tum veered south. He stole to the edge of the clearing and took refuge under another ceiba tree. Leaning out, he watched as Reed and Beverly awoke the others to share the news of Crowley's untimely death.
He wondered if the issue with time, with the delayed fifth world of creation, had something to do with a lack of faith in the old ways. Maybe mankind had strayed too far from nature. In present times, people prioritized machines over wildlife. Progress over preservation. Killing animals over learning to live with them.
"How do I fix this?" Tum whispered to the sky.
Lightning blasted overhead, cutting zigzags through the inky blackness. The raindrops fell faster. The wind whipped itself into a fury.
"I know you need me. Otherwise, you wouldn't have brought me here."
Thunder boomed. Raindrops pounded on his head. The wind nearly took him off his feet.
"What should I do?"
The thunder became deafening. A torrent of rain assailed the canyon, accompanied by gale force winds.
Then a single bolt of lightning shot across the sky. Its blinding light illuminated the pyramid.
Tum's eyes widened as a thought occurred to him. Emily had first proposed the expedition back in late 2012. If she hadn't delayed it, he would've reached Xibalba by December 21, just in time to help bring in the fifth world of creation.
The dazzling light blinked out. His heart thumped as he stared at the dark, shadowy pyramid. He still didn't know how to bring about the change of worlds.
But he knew where to find the answer.
Chapter 72
I tensed up. Narrowed my gaze and scanned the pyramid's distant southwestern edge. I didn't see anything. But I was pretty sure I'd seen something a moment earlier.
I narrowed my gaze even further. But the distance, coupled with the darkness and heavy mist, thwarted my efforts.
"Cy?"
Spinning around, I fixed my gaze on Rigoberta. "Yes?"
"Mind if I join you?"
"Go ahead." I swung back to the pyramid. "Do you see anything?"
She sat down heavily on a thick piece of firewood. "Like what?"
"On the southwestern edge. About fifty feet off the ground."
"No," she said after a minute. "Why? What'd you see?"
"Nothing, I guess." I returned to the lean-to and held out my hands, drying them over the fire. "Where's everyone else?"
"Trying to sleep." She blinked. Her eyes were bloodshot. "I wish I could do the same."
A small clatter rang out. My head swiveled to the southern edge of the clearing. Using long shovels, Tum and Renau attacked the soil, putting the finishing touches on two holes next to the one I'd dug just hours earlier.
Crowley and Alonzo lay several feet away. Like Pacho, their corpses were wrapped in blankets with duct tape securing the fabric.
"Did you know Crowley well?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"How about Alonzo?"
"Yes." She breathed softly. "I knew him as long as I knew Pacho. I miss them both. But I miss Yohl Ik’nal most of all."
I watched Tum and Renau finish the holes. Before removing the bodies, I'd done my best to piece together their last moments. It appeared the nagual had gotten snagged in a snare trap. Alonzo and Crowley, running ahead of Tum, had caught up with it. Somehow the nagual had slipped the snare and killed them both. It made sense. Still, I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something.
Their deaths, like those of the workers in the Maya Mountains, had seemingly come without warning. But this time, I didn't let the tragedy get to me. Beverly and Graham had chosen to come on the expedition. Until they said otherwise, I'd support their decisions.
My gaze shifted to the marsh. It looked so empty, especially compared to the battle mural from the summit shrine. It was hard to imagine the area had once been filled with small buildings.
The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why the Xibalbans had chosen to build their city in the middle of a marsh. Why hadn't they erected the buildings on dry land instead?
"I need to check on something. I'll be …" My eyes widened as I looked at Rigoberta. "Are you okay?"
Her face looked pale. Her eyes were sunken and hollow. Her hands trembled gently in her lap. "I'm fine," she whispered in a pained voice.
"Stay here. I'll get Dr. Wu."
"Don't worry." She straightened up. "I'm just tired."
I glanced at her legs. Purplish streaks ran out from under her shorts and swept down her thighs. "What are those marks?"
"Nothing." She tugged at her shorts. "Just old bruises."
I stared at her.
"Well, I'm going to try to sleep." She stood up and steadied her wobbling hands. "I'll see you in the morning."
I watched her walk across camp and climb into her tent. Then I turned back to the pyramid. I knew I was missing something about it.
But what?
Chapter 73
"See what I mean?" I pointed at the north mural. "There used to be buildings here. Maybe a dozen or so, from the looks of it."
Graham yawned. "So what?"
After Rigoberta had gone to bed, I'd hauled Graham and Beverly out of their tents. On a hunch, I'd led them to the summit shrine.
"So, what happened to the buildings?" I asked.