The Fire Keeper (The Storm Runner 2)

The world was unraveling inch by stupid inch, and Ixtab wasn’t helping to weave it back together. “Even if I find them, how am I supposed to get in and out? There’s, like, ten of them…. I mean, you have a plan, right?” I rubbed my forehead, trying to get rid of the massive headache coming on.

“Plan?” Ixtab laughed. “You think this is the only catastrophe I am dealing with right now? This is your mess to dig out of, Zane. I am sure you can figure it out. If not…tsk, tsk, tsk…well, let’s not think such things.”

Gee, thanks. “But there’s still the problem of the gods picking me up on their radar. Or Ren. Who knows how long this will take, and the longer we’re out there, the more likely they’ll find us.”

“Ren isn’t at risk.”

“What? Wait a second…” I stepped closer. “You know who her mom is, don’t you?”

“I do not,” she said. “But before you explode that human head of yours trying to figure things out, just know this: she has protective magic around her that you do not. I cannot say any more than that.”

So, what, I got the dud godborn genes? Then I remembered that Ren said she had magic in her family history. Is that what Ixtab meant?

“As for you,” Ixtab went on, “I have a solution to protect you.”

“Good. Protection is good. Are you going to give me an invisibility cloak”—how cool would that be—“or more shadow magic or something?”

“I have to kill you.”

I jerked my spear up and jumped back. “Are you crazy?”

“Oh, calm down. It’s a temporary death, for three measly days. To make you undetectable to the gods. Mostly.”

“I’d prefer totally undetectable. And to stay alive.”

“Please! I am not a miracle worker, for Xib’alb’a’s sake. It’s impossible to smother every ounce of your life, Zane, without actually killing you. This way, the traces of your godborn essence will be so small, a god would have to be staring you in the face or actively looking for you—and they aren’t looking for you, since they think you’re dead. Now, are you in, or are you out?”

Why did I have the feeling Ixtab wasn’t telling me the whole truth? “Why only three days?”

“The magic usually only lasts forty-eight hours, but I’m feeling generous. If you don’t return to Xib’alb’a by then, the death magic will consume you and you’ll be permanently dead. But don’t worry, Zane. If that happens, I won’t give you a terrible assignment here in the underworld. I’ll even throw in a penthouse in level three.”

No way. I wasn’t about to leave my mom and Hondo and Rosie and Brooks. My jade tooth suddenly got hot and vibrated again. I couldn’t help but notice that the vibrations had only begun here in the underworld and they were getting stronger as time went on. “If I agree—and I’m not saying I am—what am I supposed to do with the godborns once I rescue them?”

“I will find a place to hide them,” Ixtab said. “But we can worry about that if, er, when you succeed. Now, do we have a deal?”

“A deal means I get something in return. Something more than just protection.”

Ixtab smiled. Her eyes ignited into blue flames. “Ah, the son of fire. So bold. So stubborn. So like his father. Come now, I have souls to reap and demons to train. What’s your decision?”

My jade vibrated with such force I nearly jumped. Hurakan was definitely trying to get my attention. “I need an hour with my team. To decide.”

I couldn’t just let the godborns rot, but I couldn’t let my dad languish in prison, either. I didn’t know if I would ever get this kind of intel about his location again.

I had to find out what Hurakan wanted, and there was only one way to do that.

Back at the temple, Brooks was pacing the penthouse’s stone floors. Hondo was swinging punches in the air with his eyes closed. And Ren? She was opening drawers and poking her nose inside (no doubt looking for proof of aliens). Quinn was nowhere to be seen.

“Zane!” Brooks hurried over as soon as I stepped off the elevator. “That was more like an hour. We have to talk.”

“No kidding!” I said, but I marched straight toward Ren. “What did you and Ixtab talk about in your telepathy session?” I asked her. I knew there was something Ixtab wasn’t telling me about this whole mess, about Ren’s magic. But I expected a fellow godborn to give it to me straight.

She hesitated. I barely knew her, but it was obvious she was choosing her words carefully, or worse, thinking up a lie.

But before she could speak, the designer Itzel appeared. “I have your clothes.” Except her hands were empty.

“Where?” Ren asked, rushing over like she was glad for the interruption.

“You already made them?” Brooks asked.