“Tell us,” Brooks said to Jazz.
“After you went to the fiesta, I got a letter—hand-delivered—but I don’t know who it was from.”
“What did it say?” I asked.
He pointed at me. “To take you to the Old World.”
My whole body tensed. The letter was probably from Hurakan. He had said that I should look for the White Sparkstriker there.
“The gods are on the verge of declaring war,” Jazz went on. “No one’s fessing up to breaking the Sacred Oath. And Ah-Puch is running loose, creating all sorts of trouble. The gods can’t even agree on how to deal with him.” He let out a frustrated breath. “Things are bad, Little Hawk, and they’re about to get a whole lot worse.”
Brooks balled her fists. My heart began to slam against my ribs. I couldn’t let the gods get to Ah-Puch first. “Do you… do you know how to get to the Old World?” I ask
ed the giant.
“The only way is through a gateway.”
Brooks started searching frantically through her stuff. “Have you seen a rolled-up piece of paper?” she asked Jazz. “Something with a lot of drawings and lines on it?”
Jazz reached into a compartment and pulled out a scroll. “You mean this?”
The gateway map!
With a shrug, Jazz said sheepishly, “I snooped. Sorry, but it was an emergency.”
Brooks snatched the map from him and unfurled it. Her eyes scanned it wildly. “It’s… it’s gone dark.” She frowned. “Did you break it?”
“D-D-Dark? What… what d-d-do you mean?” I asked, now shivering.
Jazz raised his eyebrows, looking insulted. “No, I didn’t break it! All gateway maps are off the grid right now. Portals are closed,” he said. “The gods are limiting travel so they can try to find You-Know-Who.”
Brooks continued to scan the map like it might come to life any second. Her dark hair swirled around her face as the wind whipped past. “How are we going to find the gateway, then?”
“My old friend holds up the sky, remember?” Jazz said.
“And?”
Jazz rolled his eye like his point was obvious. “I know things,” he said. “Things like before there were maps, there were ancient gateways, secret and magical routes the gods used. Those portals aren’t closed. I mean, they’re a little rusty, and not as pleasant as the modern ones, but they’ll do the job.”
That was right. Hurakan had said the Bakabs used to work for him. It was all starting to come together. “Why aren’t they closed?” I asked.
“Part of the original design,” Jazz said. “The creator gods made four—one in each hemisphere—and they’re as permanent as the sun and the moon. Or at least until Ah-Puch burns it all up.”
Creator gods—that would be Hurakan and K’ukumatz.
“Okay,” I said. “So is there one around here?”
“Not too far. According to my coordinates, we can be there by tomorrow night,” Jazz said proudly. “This boat is a high-powered devil. Might even get us there a couple hours sooner than that.”
“But we don’t have that much time!” I argued. “The deadline is tomorrow when the moon rises!”
I looked at Brooks and didn’t have to read her mind to know she was thinking the same thing. “Ah-Puch is going to destroy it all before then, Jazz!”
Jazz rubbed his chin, thinking. Then he stood and puffed up his chest so big a button popped off his purple vest. “Well, then it’s a good thing you’re in this dilemma with an engineering genius giant, isn’t it? Let me get to work on the engine.” He turned to leave, then hesitated and said, “Cabin’s all made up for you. Don’t drool on the pillows, got it?”
Then he was gone.
29