The Fire Keeper (The Storm Runner 2)

The gods had made it available to all the Maya sobrenaturals, of course. As for the “real” world, Jazz had promised to print and spread around the copies with my secret message so it could reach any possible godborns. But as time went on and I didn’t hear from anyone, a part of me believed what Ixtab had told me: No godborns had survived.

“How did you get that?” I asked the girl. My heart was thumping frantically between excitement and fear.

She stood and said, “The library. Duh.”

So Jazz had come through. I never should’ve doubted the giant.

The girl came closer. Her pajama pants were tucked into her boots. “Is this the island”—she flipped through the book until she found what she was looking for—“Holbox?” She pronounced it like most people do, Hole-Box.

“It’s ohl-bosch,” I said. “It’s Mayan for Black Hole and…never mind. Who are you?”

With a quick nod, she blurted, “Renata. Ren Santiago.”

I was hoping for more than her name, but it was a start. “Okay, Ren…why are you here?”

She studied the book—my book—still gripped in her small hands. She looked up at me. “You called me here.”

“Uh, I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

She turned to the last page of the book and recited: “‘If you can read this, you’ve got magic in your blood. Only another godborn would be able to see the words on these last few pages. Which is why I took the risk to write down the whole truth.’”

My mind flew in a gazillion directions as she continued. “‘I was hoping to find you,’” she read more forcefully this time. “‘Take it from me—someday, when you least expect it, the magic will call to you.’” She closed the book and gave me a smirk. “You called me.”

In that moment, I had no words other than Brooks’s “HOLY K!” The shout echoed over the crashing waves. And that was only the beginning. I pretty much word-vomited after that: “How’d you get here? How’d the magic call? Where are you from? Tell me everything, and start at the beginning.”

Ren didn’t answer. Not at first. Instead, she studied me carefully. “You’re the son of—”

“Right,” I interrupted. “Now, back to my questions?”

“So, I’m a godborn, too.” She shook her head in disbelief. “That’s what the book said. Only another godborn could read…” Her voice trailed off.

“Yeah, I wrote it. I know what it says. Let’s start over. How’d you get here?” Maybe she was like Hondo and could only answer one question at a time.

“If you’re being literal,” she said, “the magic called me. The boat brought me.”

That’s when I noticed the boat had no oars, no motor. And if she had the blood of a god, how had she gotten through Ixtab’s shadow magic? Or were only full-blooded gods locked out?

Rosie rolled onto her belly and began licking her paws. Maybe I wasn’t asking the right questions. I tried again, my pulse racing. “Okay, so you read the book, the hidden words, and then what happened?”

Ren looked around with wide eyes. “This is amazing. I can’t believe I’m here!”

I pushed my hair back, trying not to look totally impatient. This is how Brooks must’ve felt when she dropped into my boring life to try to explain that I was in the middle of some ancient prophecy. Except she was way better at this than I was. “Ren!”

She held her hands up. “Cálmate. I heard music. My dad’s viola.”

Then a terrible thought occurred to me. What if Ren was lying? What if she was just trying to infiltrate the island? I couldn’t help it. It was too good to be true that another godborn had survived. I mean, it had been six whole months and nothing. Now, the night before I was going to leave on my quest to save Hurakan, she shows up? It didn’t matter that she looked nice enough. If being part of the Prophecy of Fire—the one that destined me to release the god of death, darkness, and destruction—had taught me anything, it was that, in the Maya world, what you see is not what you get. Remember that.

“Take my hand,” I said, stretching it toward Ren. “If you’re a true godborn, then…”

“Telepathy,” she said quietly as she placed her palm on mine. I opened my mind to her. If you’re a godborn, hop on one leg.

She jerked free and frowned. “I’m not a circus animal!”

Rosie groaned, hiding her eyes behind her massive paws.

“Oh crap!” I hollered. “You really are a godborn. Or at least some kind of supernatural! It’s the only way you could—”

“Read your mind.”