us to walk into that hundred-foot waterfall that looks like it could snap our bones? Are you kidding?”
“I never kid.” Quinn’s face was granite. “That’s where we have to go for Zane’s death ceremony.”
Rosie sniffed the ground and then sat on her haunches like she was waiting to see what we were going to do.
“I don’t do water,” Brooks said, backing up.
Quinn’s expression softened, and I could tell she wanted to say something to Brooks but was holding back. Then, with a knowing nod, she said “I’ll go first” and stepped onto the bridge.
“Isn’t there another way to wherever we’re going?” I asked.
“Pus River,” Quinn said over her shoulder.
Hondo nodded way too eagerly. “Come on, guys. We can do this. It’s just a waterfall. A baby one, too.” He walked next to Ren and leaned in to tell her, “Remember what I showed you…. Visualize, take deep breaths, meditate.”
Ren seemed uncertain as the two of them walked off after Quinn, who had already disappeared behind the curtain of water. When they reached the end of the bridge, Hondo took Ren’s hand and shouted, “Geronimo!” Right before they pushed through the torrent, I could swear it stood still for a nanosecond.
But when I asked Brooks if she’d seen it, she just gave me a why-do-we-have-to-do-this? look.
Rosie was next. She stretched her front leg in front of her body and let out a massive yawn. Then she stepped into the waterfall like it was the flap of a doggy door.
Brooks tilted her chin up, clenched her jaw, and said, “One day, Obispo, we will go on a quest that involves zero water!”
I trailed Brooks, wondering what her deal was. But the falls pounded so loudly I could barely hear myself think. Brooks waited for me at the end of the bridge.
“On three?” I said, taking her trembling hand.
But before I could even count to one, she closed her eyes and jerked me into the roaring water.
I was expecting a crushed skull, busted teeth, or a vomit-inducing free fall into some death pit. Instead, I stepped (totally dry, by the way) into a wedding reception, where pink and green strobe lights flashed across a garden plaza. I spotted the bride and groom jamming on the dance floor. Glasses clinked. The crowd’s chatter and laughter bounced off the perfectly pruned, rounded trees. A few guys stood in the corner doing shots and slamming their fists on the table while the sun melted into the dusky sky.
“Where in the heck are we?” I asked Brooks, looking around for the others.
“I’d say hell, except we just came from there.”
Quinn grabbed us and hauled us behind a tree. I was glad to see Hondo, Rosie, and Ren waiting there. Hondo kept trying to get a waiter’s attention, and Ren bounced to the beat.
“I hate weddings!” Quinn shouted over the music.
“What is this place?” Brooks asked.
Quinn shook her head. “How many times do I have to answer the same question?”
“San Miguel de Allende,” Hondo said to me, looking around. “Hey, señor! How about a drink?” he hollered at a waiter carrying a tray of what might have been champagne. The guy didn’t hear him, or maybe he was just ignoring my uncle.
“San Miguel de huh?” I asked.
“Mexico, you uncultured swine,” Quinn said.
The place smelled like a million different soups blended together with garlic, carne, and spices I couldn’t name. Rosie kept sniffing the air and licking her big chops. How could she already be hungry? Hadn’t she just feasted on snake heads?
The plaza was surrounded by little shops, and at the far end was a massive cathedral with pink Gothic-looking spires and towers that poked the dim sky.
“I’ve got strange news and bad news,” Quinn said.
“Give us the strange first,” Ren suggested. Everyone nodded. Even Rosie.
Quinn pointed to a clock on one of the towers. “Only a couple of hours have gone by in the upper realm since you arrived in Xib’alb’a. More time should have passed here. I’ve been keeping track, and you’ve actually been away for ten hours.” She shook her head. “But it’s like eight hours were erased, or time stood still or something.”