The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

“Hang on!” I shouted a little too zealously as I changed the subject. “I forgot to tell you: Ixtab gave one of the twins greater powers than the other one.”

“Oh man.” Hondo groaned. “That bites.”

Ren’s face fell. “There’s no justice in this world.”

I shrugged, and Brooks gave me a knowing I’m-onto-you expression: twisted mouth and flashing amber eyes.

“And Hurakan still thinks war is coming,” I threw out. “But I doubt Zotz and Ixkik’ would be that obvious. I think there’s a worse plan and we’re being lured into some kind of trap.” I told them about the stone-spitting goddess and the other stuff Ah-Puch and Hurakan had shared.

Brooks snapped her fingers. “Guys! There’s an amazing library here. It’s filled with thousands of ancient and sacred texts. I bet we could find some answers about the stone there.”

“Forty-five seconds before time starts up again,” Ren warned.

“It would be easier just to get the twins to tell us the truth,” I said. Given who their mother was, however, they were probably champion secret-keepers and liars.

“You want to interrogate them now?” Brooks asked a little too excitedly.

Ren made a pitiful face and said, “They’ve been through a lot today. Besides, I already asked, and they got all tight-lipped. I think they’re super bummed they lost the stone.”

“Maybe they just need some time to get over it,” Hondo suggested.

Brooks nodded like she was all too familiar with that kind of disappointment. “Let’s meet at the library at dawn. See what we can find.”

I understood Brooks’s logic. If we could figure out the stone’s power, we might be able to predict what Zotz and Ixkik’ were planning to do with it.

Ren’s fingers hovered over the watch’s dial. “Zane, you shouldn’t be here when I start time.”

“Yeah, the crowd’s likely to mob you.” Hondo grinned.

Rosie nudged me with her nose.

Brooks gave me a look of sympathy, which scared me worse than when she gave me a murderous glare.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Hondo pulled a candy bar out of his pocket and held it up. A cartoon of my face was plastered on it. “Seems you’re famous, Storm Runner.”

I had bigger things to worry about than Ixkakaw, goddess of chocolate, putting my face on a candy bar. Like the fact that Hondo was keeping a secret from everyone.

My uncle and I took off before time started up again and I could be mobbed. Whatever. The second we were alone, heading to my tree house, I stopped under the shadows of a gran tree with a canopy so wide you couldn’t see the sky.

“Spit it out,” I said.

Rosie stood at my side, nodding her agreement.

“Spit what out?” he said innocently.

I threw him a talk-or-else expression. “And don’t leave anything out, especially how you survived the sludge.”

He told me I couldn’t write about this, but it’s pretty important to the story, so he’s going to have to deal. Sorry, Hondo.

For the last three months, Hondo and Quinn had been “talking.” As in, they liked each other. Yeah, let that sink in. But Quinn didn’t want anyone to know because (1) Hondo’s a human, and (2) Quinn was on a big undercover operation, aka Zane Obispo’s Demon/Godborn Tour, and she wasn’t supposed to be distracted. Seems that falling in love is a big distraction.

Anyhow, last month Quinn sent Hondo a warrior mask for his birthday. I mean, nothing says love like a warrior mask stolen from your ex’s Casa Grito, right? Apparently, the mask gave the wearer the powers of the warrior who first owned it. And that was how Hondo had been able to dive thirty feet under black ooze to search for a stone barely bigger than a quarter.

Don’t get me wrong—he wasn’t like some newly minted Spider-Man or Aquaman or whatever. But, in extreme situations, the mask gave him a certain edge, and now that Hondo had worn the thing, it belonged to him and only him. And according to my uncle, the warrior had possessed some pretty sick powers, like heightened mind-body control. Apparently, when Hondo put the mask on, all he had to do was focus—“like deep meditation, mind over matter.” There was only one glitch: every time my uncle wore the mask, its powers would be diminished a little. I guess that was the universe’s way of keeping things in balance. Or the gods’ way of keeping all the power for themselves, as usual.

The whole time my uncle was telling me this, I paced alongside Rosie. “So, you can survive, like, anything?”