That’s it? I thought. I really appreciated that this guy liked my story so much, but there are a million writers in the world. “Yeah, okay…” Seemed an easy enough request, right? But remember what I told you. Things are never what they seem when it comes to the Maya gods. “But why?”
Itzamna stopped rowing and leaned forward. “Because the world was born on the back of a story, and the world might be saved—” He cleared his throat. “I have said too much. I am glad we have a deal. Now, I will do what I can to help you stay alive, and if you do your part, you will win a lifetime’s supply of the greatest variety of magic paper ever written upon.”
Great. A lifetime supply of paper. Lucky me. “Maybe you could just take me to the Fire Keeper?” I remembered what the Red Queen had said about going alone, but I bet that didn’t include gods. “I mean, since you’re already here and everything.”
“Ah, that would be too easy. All good stories have peril and risks, stakes so great that the reader shivers in their bed, wondering what will happen to the young hero. Worrying that the young hero has made a grave error in judgment.” He quivered dramatically. “Will he survive? Will good triumph over evil? Will he get the girl?” Itzamna pushed his glasses up his long nose. “So, no, I will not make this journey easy for you. I am much more interested in a grand tale. Something to make all the senses come to life. Aren’t you?”
Uh, that would be a big fat NO! “I’d rather keep my head and my organs and my skin attached to me.” I glanced at the black sky and back to Itzamna. “Am I…making a mistake?”
“Things will get tricky, you have a very high likelihood of death, and in the event that such a tragedy occurs, I have taken it upon my generous self to carry you to Xib’alb’a, where you can pen the ending to this tale.”
I dug my feet into the boat. “I don’t plan to die.”
“No one ever does.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “So that’s it? You came here to tell me to write a good story?”
“Of course not. I came here to wish you luck. Make the story fuerte! Interesting!”
Itzamna set his glasses back on. In the reflective lenses, I saw a massive and seriously awesome dragon with blue, green, and red scales. It wore a wreath made of gold feathers around its neck. But that wasn’t the most freaking amazing part: the dragon’s mouth was open, but instead of flames, a hand was coming out. And in its grasp? A pen.
“Whoa!” I fell back. “That’s…Wait…Did it eat a writer?”
“I’ll add metaphor to our list of studies. If you live.”
“Is it real? Does it fly?”
“Obviously.” Itzamna stood. “It is my faithful companion, and all the writers I deem worthy have the power of the dragon. Now, I must go.”
“What?!” My voice flew across the water. “Power of the dragon? What does that even mean?” My mind was spinning faster than a blender blade, slicing my thoughts to bits so nothing made any sense.
Itzamna pressed a finger to his lips and looked around like he’d heard something. “Good luck. Make your story a worthy one, young man.”
He and his bone oars turned to shimmering dust and blew out to the dark sea.
Perfect.
There I was, floating in the middle of the Sea of Cortés, no oars, no map, no idea how to get to Land’s End. The barely there moon floated behind a bank of clouds, plunging me into utter darkness. (Really, Itzamna? You couldn’t even give me a single oar?)
I peered through the night, scanning in every direction. In the distance, a massive rock formation stuck out of the sea awkwardly. The thing looked like a giant stegosaurus dipping its head into the water for a drink. The grande space between its neck and body must have been the famous arch, and to the left of that was a narrow beach.
Quickly, I stuck Fuego into the water, trying to use him as an oar. (Yeah, I know, dumb idea, but you do stupid things when you’re desperate, okay?) I was only about fifty yards from the arch, but I might as well have been a million, because the tide quickly shifted, dragging me away from Land’s End.
I leaped into the cool water. Gripping the edge of the dinghy, I began to kick with all my might. But it was useless. The power of the current was too great. Why did I have the feeling Itzamna was turning the tides to make for a better story?
No way was I going to be this close and get shoved back now. I had to think quick. If only Brooks were here, she could fly me. But the Red Queen had been clear. I had to take this journey alone. Was that why Itzamna had bailed?
I closed my eyes and focused on my godborn leg, willing it to do something. Anything. I’d barreled through water like a supersonic engine before, I could do it again. I had to do it again.
Focus. Focus.
I dug deep, deep into where the shadow memories of all the hurt and anger I’d ever felt were buried. As Ah-Puch had said, I reminded myself, You’re half god. A burning sensation coursed through my storm runner leg. A second later, it was like lightning rippe
d through every cell in my body, igniting something I couldn’t name, and an overwhelming power rocketed me forward.
“Woo-hoo!”
But I’d celebrated too soon. Just as I was speeding across the sea, Land’s End started moving. That’s right! The huge dinosaurish rock formation reared its head, looked in my direction, and began to glide away.