The Fire Keeper (The Storm Runner 2) - Page 68
Hondo spoke in a low, soothing voice. “Visualize the right one. You have to see it in your mind’s eye.”
Ren walked over. Two shadows followed her closely. They circled the mask as if they were inspecting it. “I like it,” she whispered. “Do you think King Pakal’s death mask is here, too?”
I reached up and unhooked the mask from the wire. It was heavier than I expected. The heat racing through me faded.
Fausto eyed Ren. I wondered if he could see her shadows, but if he could, he didn’t say anything. He turned back to me and raised an eyebrow. “Interesting choice.”
The way he said interesting didn’t make me think interesting. It made me think wouldn’t have been my choice. “Who did it belong to?” I asked.
“The Red Queen.”
“Who’s that?” Brooks asked.
“A noblewoman from, like, the year 600,” Fausto said. “Some archaeologists found her tomb in 1994, and ever since they’ve been trying to figure out who she was. But those morons will never know the truth.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“Alien,” Ren muttered.
Heat pulsed down my arms and into my legs, erupting in a tiny flame at my feet.
“Whoa,” Fausto said.
I watched the flame float up like a leaf lost in the wind. And just as it died, I heard the same man’s voice: Excellent choice. I nearly dropped the mask.
Everyone stared at me expectantly, and I could tell they hadn’t heard the whisper. Ren’s shadows wrapped around her as I looked down at the Red Queen’s mask. Quickly, I tugged Quinn to the side, out of everyone’s earshot, and spoke in a low voice. “What if Fausto’s powers are weakening, too? What if he messes this up?”
“I already asked,” she said. “He is losing his power, but the magic is already in the masks, so you’re covered.”
That made me feel oh so much better. Not!
“You have no choice but to do this, Zane, if you want to survive in the human world. Or would you rather go back to Holbox?”
No, I wasn’t going to run away, despite Hurakan’s advice to do just that. “Let’s get this over with.”
We rejoined everyone, and just as I lifted the mask toward my face, Fausto shouted, “Hang on!”
“What!”
“I forgot. I’m supposed to tell you about the potential side effects, which seriously takes all the fun out of it.” He recited the long list in such rapid succession he sounded like one of those TV ads for drugs you’d rather not have to take. “Migraines, diarrhea, vomiting, tooth and hair loss, insomnia, kidney failure, high blood pressure, nightmares. Let’s see…what else?”
There was more?
“Oh, and acne. Some people break out. But I totally disinfect all the masks to help avoid zits.”
“Not to mention the gross remains of skin and hair and bodily—” Brooks caught herself and zipped it.
“Dude,” Hondo muttered to me. “You sure this is worth it?”
I met Brooks’s gaze. If only we could use telepathy without touching. Not that I needed it right now. I could tell she was thinking, THIS IS SO NOT WORTH IT.
But I had no choice. I had to avoid the gods’ detection. Then something occurred to me: “How exactly does this prevent the gods from seeing me? Does it make me invisible to them?” I asked Fausto.
He shook his head. “The gods are good at sniffing out life essence, but if yours is only at two percent, you won’t even register. I mean, unless you walk right up to one, which I wouldn’t recommend.”
He for sure didn’t need to worry about that.
“Other than hiding from the gods, why else would someone use death magic?” Ren asked.
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