The Storm Runner (The Storm Runner 1)

We took a few steps past the pool. It gave off an overwhelmingly foul smell, like it was filled with rotting fish. Pale rock columns, about two or three feet tall, grew out of the sloping ground and surrounded a taller stalagmite with a flat surface. On top was a large stone bowl.

I hesitated, then drew closer and peered inside. Two cracked animal skulls were sitting on a pile of skinny white sticks. No, not sticks—they looked more like bird bones. Well, didn’t that just spell Welcome!

“This is a sacrifice chamber,” Brooks whispered. Her voice was tense in the cold air. “The demon runners did this—they prepared the place for Ah-Puch’s release.”

My eyes bounced over the rough ash-colored walls and across the uneven floor. I shivered. “I guess that means we’re in the right spot. Or the wrong one, depending on your perspective,” I said, looking over my shoulder for any demon runners who might have followed us. I just wanted to find the thing Ah-Puch was hiding in so Brooks could take him away and make sure he never got out. Then we could prove that soothsayer wrong.

I kept expecting Ms. Cab to show up any minute too, to poof out of thin air. She was supposed to be back before the eclipse.

Brooks stood and turned to me. “When you heard Rosie, it must’ve been the magic calling you. Clever.”

“I guess….”

She looked pale. “Come on. We need to move fast. We only have a couple hours. Do you hear anything now?”

“Aren’t you the one with the super-bionic senses?”

“I tried, remember?” she said. “I can’t hear this frequency. The magic will only call to you.”

I tuned my ears, but all I heard was the drip, drip, drip of the water and a strange breathing sound like the walls themselves were inhaling and exhaling.

A dark ripple shifted across the water.

“It’s in there,” I said, pointing to the pool.

“That puddle? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Like eighty percent, or a hundred?” Brooks asked, frowning. “I mean, there’s a big difference.”

I was positive. I could feel the air pulse and buzz with a strange energy when I stepped closer to the water. Despite the stink, I felt drawn to it, and every second we stood there, I found myself wanting more desperately to jump in. “I’m a thousand percent sure. And it’s not a puddle. It’s deep.” I’m not sure how I knew, but I did. Just like I knew it would be cold.

Brooks sucked in her lower lip. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“Why?”

“I can’t swim.”

Okay, so unless the animal skeletons came to life and decided to fish Ah-Puch out of the water, I was the lucky retriever. Great!

Brooks raised the flashlight beam to the ceiling. “Holy K! We’re doomed.”

Those are not the words anyone wants to hear when they’re standing in a dark chamber of sacrifice with the lord of the dead trapped in a smelly pond a few feet away. I swore under my breath, then craned my neck.

The stalactites trembled, then split open with a bone-cracking sound that sent chills down my spine. Bits of rock fell and we ducked out of the way. When I looked back up, I stumbled and gasped.

At the base of the stalactites, dozens of glowing blue pods clung to the ceiling. A black ooze dripped from them into the water. Optimist me thought maybe we’d made some kind of cool archaeological discovery. Then I saw that the translucent husks were pulsing and stretching. Definitely not a cool archaeological discovery. Sleeping demon runners. Just like Ms. Cab had said, they’d been busy duplicating in Ah-Puch’s hiding place. It was time to bolt.

But as soon as I grabbed Brooks’s hand to lead her back the way we’d come, a demon runner leaped down from the ceiling, blocking our path. He swiveled his head slowly, like he was searching for us.

We froze in our tracks. Brooks squeezed my hand so hard I thought she might break my bones.

Then, one by one, the lights went out in the pods above, and if you’ve ever heard someone slurp the last of a shake through a straw, you’ll understand the sound that filled the cave. The sacs were opening.

The demon runner squinted. This was one time I wished I didn’t have night vision. I didn’t need to see the way his evil beady eyes roamed the chamber. “Zane Obispo,” he hissed, stretching his arms toward us as we slowly backed away.

“Demon runners, or pool?” I whispered. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready for flight.