“Is that the World Tree?” Ren asked, stepping closer to the water’s edge.
“It’s huge,” Hondo said, craning his neck to see where the Tree stretched beyond a thin veil of pinkish-gray clouds.
“I tried to fly over there yesterday,” Brooks admitted, “to get a better look, but I kept butting up against some kind of invisible wall.”
“A protective measure,” Itzamna said. “There is more magic surrounding that Tree of Life than there is in all the gods’ blood.”
“Wait,” I said, my eyes still on the tree that looked like a painting. “The lights—they look dimmer than they did yesterday.”
“Why are they flickering like that?” Alana asked.
Itzamna pushed his glasses up his long nose. “The lights are flickering because the Maya gods are gone.”
“Yeah,” Adrik said. “They left last night for their meeting.”
“Not gone from here,” Itzamna sputtered, starting to hyperventilate again. “Gone from awareness, wakefulness, consciousness. Zotz and Ixkik’ have taken them.”
“How?!” The heat inside me charged to the surface and small flames erupted across my knuckles. “What does that mean?”
Hondo drew closer, as if he needed a front-row seat to make sure he had heard the moon god right. The muscle in his jaw twitched as he spoke slowly. “Gone from their consciousness, or ours?”
An umbrella-like shadow appeared, hovering over Ren protectively. Thankfully, it didn’t grow a face. Or fangs and claws. “Pacific’s gone?” she whispered, twisting her gold watch in circles around her wrist.
Alana covered a gasp trying to exit her mouth.
“All the gods…” said Itzamna. “Except me, of course.”
“Each light represents a god,” I said, remembering what my dad had told me. I felt sick to my stomach. And not just because the gods were out of play, but because whatever Zotz and Blood Moon’s plans were, they were winning. By a long shot.
“You’re saying they’re asleep somewhere? Were they, like, knocked out or something?” Brooks asked with a defiant tone. “No way could anyone do that to the mighty Kukuulkaan. No way.”
“How the heck do you knock out a god?” Adrik muttered.
“Please do not waste time arguing a useless point,” Itzamna said. “We must talk about me. How to save my legacy. My beloved tree!”
“Then find the gods,” Adrik demanded. “Bring them back.”
“I can’t.” Itzamna sighed. “I’m not the one who took them.”
“Zotz and Ixkik’ did it!” I said.
“They don’t have the power to enslumber the gods,” Itzamna said. Enslumber? Is that even a word?
My thoughts spiraled. Zotz and Ixkik’ never did the expected or obvious. Was this what the Red Queen had meant when she’d said that they were five steps ahead? Five. Steps. Ahead. Those three words rang out in my head on repeat.
Five. Zotz and Ixkik’ killed Akan.
Steps. They are conniving plotters.
Ahead. Something so unexpected it will have your head spinning.
“Crap!” I shouted.
All eyes fixed on me. A low growl erupted from Rosie’s throat as she pawed my shoulder, practically knocking me over.
“Akan’s death was a setup!” I spoke forcefully. “They didn’t kill him to raise an army—they did it to raise some Mexica god with the power to put the Maya gods to sleep.” I hated to admit it, but the plan was ingenious.
Brooks paced as massive black wings sprouted from her back. “But what if it’s even more than that?”