The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

“Good point,” he said. “No more questions.” He sneezed three more times. “You’re making my allergies worse.”

“Just one thing,” I said. “If someone wants to know the future, why not just visit a seer?”

He thought about it, then lowered his voice, “Seers have a limited view of the human experience in this world.”

“And?”

“And K’iin describes the idea of the sun and its relationship to the universe. I really hope someone teaches you these facts. I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing that you don’t know this stuff already. We got it drilled into us…. Oh, never mind,” he said. “Let me explain it the way it was taught to me. The sun…the big orange ball in the sky?”

“I know what the sun is!”

Rosie snorted once, then plopped onto her behind.

“Good,” the spirit said. “The sun always rises from Xib’alb’a and travels across the sky, just so the west can devour it.” He held his hands out pleadingly. “Don’t you see? The sun sacrifices herself every day so things can begin anew. Even though she is consumed, she returns. K’iin is constant like the sun, and greedy beings are like the west, wanting to possess K’iin’s power: the ability to see all.”

I must have been giving him a blank expression, because he shook his head again. “It isn’t for you to seek,” he said. “The chapat’s warning was proof of that. You were never meant to see that image. Do you hear me?”

Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed.

“We have angered the gods!” Kip cried. “Don’t forget your promise.” Then he disappeared into thin air. I whirled to find his greenhouse gone, the labyrinth vanished.

The sky split open and rain poured down on us in sheets.

And just as Rosie and I bolted into the jungle for cover, I heard a bloodcurdling scream.

As I followed Rosie toward the sound, the rain turned to snow, which must have really freaked out the trees. So much for a perfect seventy-four degrees, I thought as my godborn positioning system kicked in, a cold sensation tugging me to the right.

Angry voices flew toward us.

A girl shouted, “Hit him!”

Rosie and I stumbled through the whitening jungle until we came to a multiterraced courtyard filled with dining tables and chairs. From where we stood, on the uppermost level, I could see tables covered with plates of half-eaten breakfasts: bacon, eggs, fruit, donuts, and other items. On the lowest tie

r, a dozen or so godborns were gathered under a clump of trees. The rascal monkeys hovered in the branches above, clapping and chomping their teeth.

And in the center? Marco and some tall dude who definitely hadn’t been on my godborn tour. Which meant he must’ve been part of the junkyard battle. The two of them had their fists up and were circling each other like careful wolves, waiting to see who would make the first move.

My eyes darted everywhere, but I didn’t see any of my friends. Maybe they were still in the library? Louie stood off to the side, and even from this twenty-foot distance, I could tell he was trembling as he ate a Storm Runner candy bar.

Marco quickly wiped some snowflakes from his eyes. “Stop with the storm already, Louie!”

“I can’t help it,” Louie said. “I don’t like fights.”

Louie was causing the storm? His dad was Chaac, the god of rain, but Louie hadn’t even been trained yet.

“Punch him already!” someone commanded.

A gust of wind swept across the courtyard along with a more frenzied flurry of snow.

Everyone looked up, blinking against the instant winter.

“Hey!” I shouted.

No one reacted—they were too engrossed in the fight.

“Go find everyone, Rosie,” I said. “Bring them here.”

She took off into the forest.