The Storm Runner (The Storm Runner 1)

“You’re the god of…” I thought I could let him fill in the blank.

“Storms,” he said.

“Is that why Pacific called me Storm Runner?” We had runners at school, kids who ran errands for the adults. “’Cause I’m not about to be your errand boy.”

This time there was no mistaking a light grunt/laugh. He lifted his head toward the sea. A fierce wind ripped across the waters, creating gigantic waves. Palms bent their heads to the ground like loyal servants. But on top of the pyramid, there wasn’t even a hint of a breeze. It was like he could control what the wind touched, and what it destroyed. I guessed that made sense, since, after all, he was a god.

So I was the son of the god of storms. Was that why I sometimes felt heat in my fingertips? Why storms came out of nowhere when I was freaked-out? Thank the saints he wasn’t the god of bees, because being able to create storms is so much cooler!

He kept his eyes on the sea. Was I supposed to say something next? Or was he going to launch into some big speech about how sorry he was that he hadn’t been around? That he’d left me and Mom and never even sent a lousy birthday card?

“The jade I gave you,” he finally said, “is infused with ancient magic. The oldest magic, from before the very first creation.”

Okay, so I wasn’t going to get an I’m-a-dirtbag apology speech.

He continued, “It allows you to travel here… to the Empty.”

“The Empty?”

“This in-between place I created, away from wandering eyes and wicked ears. A replica of the great pyramids of Tulum, Mexico.” he said. “It’s the only safe place we can talk. And because I created it, no other gods have power here.”

I looked around at the sky, the ocean, the jungle, the abandoned pyramids. It was… it was beautiful. About the furthest thing from empty I’d ever seen. Except… at the far edge of the jungle there was a blank space, like the uncolored part of a page in a coloring book. “What’s that?”

“An abyss… until I finish it.”

“Abyss?”

“An empty hole that goes on forever.”

Oh. Well, that settled it. No abyss for me.

I gazed down at my spotted body. “Is there a reason I’m a… a cat?”

He tilted his head to the right and blinked. “You spirit-jumped, and you needed a body to inhabit. And as you can see, there aren’t a lot of those around here. Would you rather be a monkey or a Yucatán jaybird?”

Spirit-jumped. Okay. I’d worry about that later. “Is that why you’re a cat, too?”

“It’s easier to talk to you if we’re in the same form. Since we don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“We have no familiarity, no real emotional connection. If we did, it wouldn’t matter what form we took.”

Yeah, well, that sounded touchy-feely, and I wasn’t about to have that conversation right now.

He must have sensed my discomfort, because he kept talking. “You can travel here when you need to speak to me. Simply say the words or imagine this location,” he said. “But be careful, Zane. Never travel to the Empty unless you’re in a safe place with those you trust. Do you understand?”

“Why?”

“Your body is left behind. You will be vulnerable.”

There was something very unnerving about the idea of being separated from your own body. What was happening to me back at Jazz’s? I wondered. Hadn’t Hondo said something about blood?

In the meantime, I itched to try out my new body. I took a few steps as a jungle cat—I was light on my feet, stealthy, powerful. Amazing didn’t even begin to cover it!

Hurakan treaded so close I could see the golden flecks in the center of his green eyes. “You’re in trouble. You will need help to defeat Ah-Puch,” he said.

Resentment pulsed up my legs and into my heart. Was he for real? Now he wanted to help me? I took a few paces back. A low growl sounded from my throat. “Maybe you should’ve shown up before I let the god of death, darkness, and disaster into the world!”