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Maddock saw Angel frown at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. Got to love the Bonebrake family. No matter how dire the circumstances, there’s nothing so small that it will escape their notice. “I didn’t hear about that,” he said quickly, and started down the steps to the ball court. “But it looks like we can’t win if we don’t play.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got that backward,” Bones replied, sagely. “The quote is, ‘the only way to win is not to play.’”

Maddock ignored him. “Just like before. Look for serpent and dog glyphs, and keep an eye out for anything that looks like a trap or a trigger.”

He stepped down onto the floor of the court and immediately heard a crack like the sound of a Louisville slugger hitting rawhide.

“You mean like that?” Bones shouted to him.

In the eerie blue light, the object sailing down the length of the court looked black, but as he tracked it with his light, Maddock saw that it was actually as white as bone. A skull bone, in fact, though judging by its momentum as it shot toward him, rotating slowly, it was probably made of something heavier, carved and painted to resemble a skull. The ball was heading right toward him, about as fast as a thrown football, giving him just enough time to ponder the appropriate response.

Dodge, catch or block?

From what little he knew about the game, the point was not to catch the ball or dodge, but to deflect it with hips or torso, but he also recalled Bell’s warning about the Lords’ trick ball. He didn’t see a dagger blade protruding from the ball, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there, waiting to spring out on contact.

He quickly shrugged the pack containing the SCUBA bottle off his shoulder, gripping its straps in both hands. When the ball got within range, he swung for the bleachers.

There was a resounding clank as the skull-shaped projectile made contact with the nylon fabric and the aluminum tank inside, and then the ball was winging away toward the side of the court.

From the balcony, Angel couldn’t resist cheering. “Woo-hoo! Way to go, slugger.”

The ball bounced once, twice, and then hit the wall.

Or more precisely, the wall hit it.

A fraction of a second before the skull would have made contact, a ten-foot long section of the wall swung out on concealed hinges to bat it away. The bounce, combined with the boost from the wall, supplied just enough energy to send it shooting right back at Maddock.

“Oooh, no joy in Mudville,” Bones chortled.

Maddock considered shooting his friend a one-fingered salute, but since he still wasn’t sure what would happen if he let the ball stop rolling, he readied himself for another swing.

There was another distant thump at the far end of the court as a second ball was launched.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,” he muttered, then raised his voice to a shout. “Guys, you’d better get down here. We need to get through this fast, before it gets any worse.”

And then it got worse.

From behind and above, Miranda cried out. “We’ve got company! The Serpent Brothers. They’re here.”

CHAPTER 32

Maddock batted the first ball away again, timing his strike so that it sent the skull-ball sailing back down the length of the court and hopefully out of play. He recalled that the ball game could be won by getting the ball through a hoop, a virtual impossibility given the rules which did not permit the use of hands or feet, and the fact that the ball typically weighed about eight pounds. This ball didn’t seem quite that heavy which was something at least. The Lords of Death might have been cheaters, but surely the game was still winnable.

He looked around quickly, searching the walls for a hoop, and instead found a hole in the wall right behind him, just below the balcony. It was the right size for a goal, but trying to deflect the ball coming straight at him into it would require precise timing and position. He doubted he would be able to get it right on the first try, and with an unknown number of Serpent Brothers swarming down from above, he wasn’t going to get too many more chances.

He knocked the second pitch back, trying for a high pop-fly, but even as he made contact, he heard a second sound, the muffled noise of the other ball being struck by something solid.

Still in play, he thought.

Angel appeared on the floor of the ball court, with Kasey and Isabella right behind her. Miranda and Bell were there a second later, and Bones brought up the rear, looking like he was contemplating giving the ailing archaeologist another ride.

“What’s going to happen if we make a run for it?” he called out, hoping that either Bell or Isabella would have an answer.

There was another loud crack as a third ball was launched across the court to join the other two, which were careening back and forth, rebounding off of walls. The stelae were also moving, swinging out to deflect the balls whenever they got close. Something was triggering that action, probably pressure plates in the floor. The same thing would probably happen to them if they got too close and triggered that mechanism.

“Rabbits!” Bell shouted.

“Outstanding,” Bones growled. “Now we’ve got to worry about killer rabbits. Kasey, I hope you’ve got the Holy Hand Grenade in that pack of yours.”

Bell shook his head and pointed to one of the nearby stelae. “That’s a rabbit.”

Maddock didn’t ask how he could tell the difference. The carvings were stylized and grotesque; Maya artisans were not exactly known for their realism. But he thought he grasped Bell’s meaning. “A rabbit helped the Hero Twins in the final game. How?”

“The rabbit distracted the Lords of Xibalba so they could switch out a gourd for the ball,” Bell explained quickly. “But I think the solution is much simpler. The rabbit stelae are safe. The others aren’t. If we stay close to the rabbits, we should be able to make our way across the ball court.”

Maddock hoped the archaeologist was right. There wasn’t time to test the hypothesis with a weighted stand-in. He charged to the towering stelae that Bell had indicated, bracing himself for the hit if he was wrong, but nothing happened. He stopped just short of actually touching the carving, and looked back. “Doc, get up here. I need you to show us the way.”

Bell advanced, shuffling more than jogging. Kasey dropped back, her pistol now unholstered and at the ready. Bones had his weapon drawn as well. Behind and above them, the serpent warriors were scattered up and down the staircase, brandishing war clubs and blowguns. He counted at least six, but more were emerging from the passage to Bat House. If it came to a fight, their primitive weapons would be no match for the firepower Maddock and his friends were carrying, but the ball court was not the place to make their stand.

He turned back, keeping an eye on the skull-balls — four of them now — caroming around the ball court. “Doc!”

“There!” Bell pointed to another column, fifty feet away near the left edge of the court.

“Let’s move,” Maddock called.

The court was now alive with noise and movement as multiple balls were batted back and forth all around them. Maddock gave up trying to track them all, and simply kept his head on a swivel, checking in all directions for incoming projectiles that might pose a threat to himself or the others. By the time they reached the halfway point, there were at least six balls in play. He wondered if there was a limited supply of them, or if the unseen mechanisms that controlled the game would run out of steam, figuratively, if not also literally. Twice, he had to stop to deflect a ball away.

He also kept track of the serpent warriors, some of whom had already ventured out onto the ball court. He wondered if they knew about the rabbits, too.