“What do you mean ‘the universe is changing’? Does this have to do with the sobrenaturals’ powers getting weaker?”

He ran his long fingers over the guitar frets and said, “Dark days. Dark war. Only the shadows can hide us.” He picked up a scrap of paper and scribbled something on it. “That’s good,” he mumbled.

I waved a ribbon of incense smoke out of my face.

“Ah, I see from your expression that you came here on a whim with no real knowledge of how this all works. You don’t know your father gave humans fire. He took a piece of it and created the first fire keeper to protect the magic of the Maya, because he believed in balance above all else. He worried about what would happen if the gods held all the power. You know one hundred percent of nothing.”

“Hang on! My dad wanted to protect sobrenatural magic? Why?”

“To create a more even playing field. To make sure the gods never destroyed the world again.” He shook his head. “Up until a few days ago, I could see past, present, and a blink of the future in a single ember’s flicker. I could see every possibility of every decision you might make.” He laughed harshly and strummed a low E chord to make his point.

A lump throbbed in my throat. Was I really too late? Had I come all this way for nothing? “Tell me about the dark war. Is that why the demons in Xib’alb’a are training?”

Antonio began to strum the guitar, slow, then fast—so fast his fingers smoked and small flames appeared on each of the strings. I have to admit, it was seriously awesome. With sweat dripping down the side of his face, he stopped playing and swayed like he might collapse. Then, breathlessly, he said, “I see seventy-six and a half possibilities leading to a potential war. All dependent on certain decisions made during Wayeb. Or maybe the war is going to start during that time. I can’t be sure.”

“Wayeb? You mean the five days of doom?”

“Ah, so the boy knows some things. That period is also known as ‘the days without names,’ or as I like to call it, ‘the days without souls.’ It’s exactly four months from today.”

He was talking about one of the three Maya calendars: the Haab’, a 365-day calendar that is divided into eighteen months of twenty days each. It includes one month with five extra days at the end, which is the Wayeb.

“Hold up. If the sobrenaturals’ magic is weakening, and you control the flame that gives them power…” I swallowed hard. “Are you the one who’s…?”

“Stealing their power?” A slow and glittery grin spread across his face.

Antonio let out a deep laugh. “Get your head on straight, man. I’m the protector, not the thief. The magic flame began to sputter a few days ago. I sense it’s because your father is getting weaker by the minute.”

I felt like I wanted to blow something up. “Are you saying the fire dies if he dies?”

“And without Hurakan to feed the flame…” Antonio said.

“The sobrenaturals aren’t so super.”

Slowly, the pieces began to click together. Stolen godborns. Weakening magic. My dad’s sudden execution. War. Was Zotz, the bat god, masterminding everything? Whoever was behind this was behind all of it. Which meant that the godborns and soon-to-be-broken sobrenaturals were going to be pawns in this war. And the Maya gods didn’t even see it coming.

My hands pulsated with sudden heat. “I’m the son of fire. Maybe…” It was a long shot, but I had to try. “Maybe I can feed the flame.” If I could make it strong enough so Antonio could change the outcome of my dad’s execution, he could tell me exactly where to find the godborns. Maybe I could save the magic.

Antonio raised a doubtful eyebrow.

“Let me try, at least.”

His dark eyes glistened in the dim light. “But, my man, you can’t even control your own fire. How, then, do you expect to be able to give power to the greatest fire magic in history?”

A thick, lava-like heat raced up my storm runner leg. I was sick of half truths, half strengths, half a life. “How do you know I can’t?” Maybe this was the reason I was here.

Antonio shrugged. “I don’t. But someone else might.”

With the wave of his hand, he drew a trail of incense smoke to him, then tapped his fingers across the air as the smoke took the faint shape of…a human heart? I stood frozen as the heart began to beat slowly, echoing across the room with a thud thud thud. A small flame grew from its center, and, without thinking, I drew it to me and spun it in a small ball on my open palm. The orb rotated like a planet on its axis, growing bigger and bigger. So big it burst into a wall of blue flames, blocking Antonio from my view. Before I knew it, I was swallowed in a huge, soundless inferno.

Instinctively, I stepped into it, searching. Dad?

I knew he was close. I could sense it. The flames engulfed me, and for the first time in days, I felt safe, like here nothing could touch me.

Zane. You didn’t run.

You didn’t tell me they’re going to kill you.

Silence.

Tags: J.C. Cervantes, Jennifer Cervantes The Storm Runner Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net