The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

“Each of the lights on the World Tree represents a god,” he said. “His light is out.”

I had never met Akan, but the news shook me. “Gone?” I swallowed.

“Camazotz and Ixkik’ have sacrificed him to raise an enemy god.” Hurakan twisted a black beaded bracelet on his wrist as he faced me.

“That’s why you moved up the claiming ceremony,” I said. “You need the godborns to have some chance, some ability…to fight.”

“To protect themselves, and yes,” he said slowly, “to fight if need be.”

The air felt thick and dry. A fierce wind swirled around us, and I knew my dad was causing it. “After the ceremony, all the gods will convene away from here, to make plans,” he said, letting the gust die. “In the meantime, I need you to work with the godborns. You are the only one who knows how to be a godborn. How to connect with your power.”

Hurakan had asked me months ago to help train the godborns, but I didn’t think that meant all by myself! Panic struck my gut like a hot branding iron. “That took me months to learn.” Being a godborn didn’t just happen once you were claimed. Kukuulkaan’s words came back to me: You don’t become a god automatically, with the snap of a finger, or because of your bloodline. Godhood has to be earned. Fought for. I clenched my jaw, thinking how hard I’d struggled to become one with the fire. And then a worse thought occurred to me: “What if some of the godborns don’t get any powers in the claiming ceremony?”

I remembered that day with the Sparkstriker. When she pounded lightning into my leg, she had said that I could possess nothing of true value and that I might be a terrible vessel with no ability to control any of my powers.

It seemed brutal and unfair. In all my conversations with the godborns over the last three months, I’d never even mentioned that having zero power was a possibility. How could I have overlooked that detail? I felt like the world’s biggest jerk.

“Zane,” Hurakan said calmly, “what are you talking about?”

“I’m the one who rounded them up, told them to trust me!” Why did it feel like the gods were (yet again) forcing others to pick up their mess? My eyes were burning and fire was blazing in my veins. A wave of flames burst from my free hand into the sky. “I told them to come here, and for what? To have zero power? To be used in a war that has nothing to do with them?”

“This has everything to do with them, with all of us!” He paused, took a breath. “And who said they would have zero power?”

“The Sparkstriker.” I told him what I had recalled.

My dad held up his palm. “True value according to her. Just because someone can’t wield fire or some other power doesn’t mean they have nothing. Think, Zane. These godborns still have the blood of a god flowing through them!” My dad shook his head. Then he gestured to my hand and added, “Use a little more twist in your wrist next time.”

Was he seriously trying to give me a fire lesson right now?

He took a deep breath with his eyes closed. When he opened them, they shone blacker than polished obsidian. “The other sobrenaturales will be here tomorrow, to help.” Hurakan placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Remember, Zotz and Ixkik’ still have to find a way to raise more than one god, to try to build an army great enough to challenge us. That takes time, and long before they succeed, we will crush them.”

He said the words like he didn’t want me to worry. Yeah, right. I remembered all too well what it was like to face the bat god. His hatred was so thick, it choked the air. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would make threats when he didn’t already have some kind of twisted plan. I mean, a few months ago, he had managed to trick me into coming to him, and he’d been shrewd enough to set up my dad’s execution as a blood sacrifice.

“Zotz’s mind is warped,” I said, puzzling out my thoughts. “I don’t think he wants to go to war. And I feel like…like there’s something we’re missing.”

“Of course he wants war,” Hurakan said. “Why else would he sacrifice Akan to raise an enemy god?”

“But if he could resurrect more than one Mexica-slash-Aztec god,” I said, “wouldn’t he have to worry about them turning on him someday, too?”

I know how this power stuff works. It’s the same in middle school. One day, the quarterback of the football team is on top of the pack. The next day, some other kid has overthrown him and bounced his king status to the curb.

“I mean, what if the Mexica gods’ allegiance to each other is stronger than their allegiance to Zotz or Ixkik’? Seems like a pretty big risk.”

Hurakan rubbed his thumb across his chin, considering this. “You think the war is a distraction.”

“Yeah, and their plan has to do with—” I stopped short, remembering my promise to Alana not to say anything about the stone. But that was before we were almost devoured by poisonous power-sucking sludge.

“With what?” he prompted.

I couldn’t help myself. I told my dad everything. “And now Ixkik’ has the stone,” I said, recalling her words: At last it is mine.

My dad listened carefully, hanging on every word. “They’ve killed a god,” he said. “They may have stolen a stone with a power we have yet to identify.” He shook his head and added, “Our enemies have been hard at work.”

“You’re talking enemies without me?” came a familiar voice.

Here’s a sentence I never thought I’d write: I was stoked to see the god of death.

Ah-Puch and I had been through muy scary stuff together. He’d risked his own life to save mine and Ren’s.