The Storm Runner (The Storm Runner 1)

Brooks ran-hopped to keep up

with Jazz’s enormous stride.

“It’s Mayan for heart, the center of the Old World,” Jazz said with his booming voice. “A place the gods made together, where they could meet, give counsel, pass judgment. Create, destroy. You know, stuff gods do when they’ve got nothing else to do.” He maintained his pace, swiping at stray branches that were getting in the way. “It’s the original place, where the first world was dreamed up. And the second and the third.” He took quick breaths. “The oldest and most powerful magic in the universe was born here! Man, this is going to do wonders for my career!”

My mind turned quickly. So Hurakan must have been a part of this place, too. He was a creator god, along with Mat. The back of my neck tingled as I thought, This is where it all began. The first magic. It made the place feel sort of… sacred. Was Jazz right? Did Hurakan want me to come here just because the gods wouldn’t? Something felt off about that. But what it was, I didn’t know.

I followed Jazz, walking in step with Hondo, who was slower than usual, which was the only reason I could keep up.

“You have a plan for killing old Puke?” Hondo asked quietly so only I could hear.

“Sort of.”

“Sort of doesn’t get you the gold, does it?”

“I have a plan, okay?” I didn’t care about gold. I only wanted to take down Ah-Puch and keep him from crushing the whole world. And if I could stay out of Xib’alb’a, that would be super awesome. The wound on my wrist burned and my head throbbed.

“Now that you’ve gouged out Puke’s eyes,” Hondo continued as we walked, “how’s he going to find you? Wasn’t the whole point to get the Stinking One to follow you here?”

“He knows I’m here in the Old World. Trust me, he’ll find me. Unless I find him first.”

Brooks fell back and said, “You need to be ready. It could be any time.”

The trees parted and we stepped into a clearing as long as five football fields. It was dominated by five enormous pyramids arranged in a semicircle. All the structures looked exactly the same. Each had steep staircases, one on each of the three sides that I could see, leading up to what looked like a square temple at the very top. They reminded me of the one Hurakan had created in the Empty, but these were much taller.

We walked into the center of the clearing. Jazz stared up at a pyramid in awe and said, “This here is sacred ground. Where the council—the five dominant gods—ruled, created, and destroyed.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat. “It’s true,” he whispered.

“What’s true?” I asked.

“Each side of each pyramid has ninety-one steps, making three hundred sixty-four total.”

Wow! He could count fast. Maybe it was a giant thing.

He continued, “When you add in the step taken to enter the temple at the top, the total comes to three hundred sixty-five.”

“The number of days in a year,” Brooks said, catching on.

“So the gods can count,” Hondo said impatiently. “Congrats.”

“This is how the marking of time came to be,” Jazz declared. “It was invented in this place. The legend says that the gods competed for seats here—that’s how the council was formed. Each temple represents a different god of the council: Nakon, god of war, and Ixtab—she’s running Xib’alb’a these days—then there’s Hurakan, god of storms…”

My breath caught in my throat.

Jazz went on, “Ixkakaw, goddess of chocolate… I think she overthrew another goddess, maybe Ixchel? She was the goddess of healing—didn’t like fighting. And then there’s Alom, god of the sky.”

“So these gods made themselves kings?” I said.

“And queens,” Brooks said.

Jazz was still smiling. “Then one, no one knows who, created time, and the world began. Or at least the third version of it. Man, I wish I had a camera!”

So Pacific had once been on the council—before the gods got rid of her and she was wiped from history.

Brooks gazed up. “Some say the gods lost the time rope. It used to be wrapped around the earth, but it disappeared, and now they can’t time-travel anymore.”

“Seems like a pretty big thing to lose,” Hondo said, shaking his head. “Did you say time-travel?”

Jazz yawned wide. “I’ll make a camp at the edge of the jungle. We all need some rest, since any moment could be”—he looked at me—“you know, kill-time and all that.”