“You cannot win, you little fool,” a woman’s voice said.
I pressed on up the stairs, crawling on all fours because it was faster than trying to get to the top with my bum leg. Why weren’t the gods doing anything? Didn’t they notice the fog? Or that the crowd had disappeared behind it? Hadn’t they wanted a public execution?
The woman laughed. “You’ll never make it in time.”
I spun onto my back and shot a river of fire into the air toward the voice. “Hey!” I screamed, hoping the gods could hear me. “It’s me, Zane Obispo. You’re being tricked! Stop!”
“How about I let you watch?” The woman laughed.
Bird’s dreaded words echoed down the stairs. “We offer you the blood and heart of the god of storm, fire, and wind—the great Hurakan!”
I whipped around and looked up. The fog thinned.
Jordan raised the ax. It was pointed right at my dad’s neck.
“NO!” I screamed.
The ax came down with an unbearable blow.
Instantly, the world went black, so black even I couldn’t see through its darkness. My heart pounded no-no, no-no.
Shock rippled through me.
This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.
Is that all you have? Itzamna’s voice rammed against my skull. Not very hero-like.
That did it. Every cell in my body exploded with rage. I felt a burst of blinding power. My blood flowed like hot lava, my lungs seized, my muscles contracted. My storm runner leg jolted awake.
I raced through the dark and up the steps with lightning speed.
Just as I reached the platform, the darkness vanished. I heard a piercing cry. Brooks? I saw her glowing eyes first, cutting through the fog like twin candles. She dove straight for the twins, ripping off their masks with a single bloody swipe.
Jordan and Bird stumbled back, looking stunned. Then a thicker blanket of mist wrapped around them, making it impossible to see them.
Brooks screeched.
Forget the hawk, the woman’s voice said. Run!
Since the fog blocked the gods, I have no idea what they were doing at that moment—probably standing around taking a vote about what to do. Someone really should write a letter of complaint about their lack of leadership.
Panic gripped me. Hurakan. Where was Hurakan? I nearly slipped on a pool of blood. The world slanted. I hate to be so morbid, but I looked around for his severed head. Stupid mist! I couldn’t see anything. I fell to my knees and groped through the haze. I stumbled on the ax. And Hurakan’s chains, but they were empty. What the heck?
The woman’s voice drew closer, like she was right behind me, but when I spun, there was nothing. Then the mist parted enough for me to see the twins glaring at me. Long fangs protruded from their foaming mouths and…I blinked. Had they sprouted wings? Bat wings?
“Hurry, boys,” the woman warned. “The mist will only blind the gods for so long.”
“We’re going to kill him first, Mother!” Jordan screamed.
Bird stretched his wings. His human arms were extended underneath them, but instead of hands, he had scaly black claws. “You’re going to pay, Obispo.”
“Think of the bigger plan, you fools!” the woman, who I now knew was Ixkik’, shouted.
The twin bats launched into the sky, splitting off in opposite directions and disappearing into the fog. A second later, they emerged again, looking bigger, stronger, and more dangerous. The only recognizable part of them now was their faces—the rest of their humanness had been consumed by their bat selves. I went after them, shooting dozens of fire bullets from my hands and nailing them in the chest, but it didn’t stop their rage. Or their momentum.
My visibility was three feet at best, which put me at a serious disadvantage. It was impossible to know where I stood on the platform and how close to the edge I was.
Just then, Rosie appeared by my side, blue flames exploding from her mouth as Jordan swept down with ferocious speed, slicing my neck with a razor-sharp claw.