Brooks stared at the sky, her nostrils flaring.
At the same moment, Quinn snatched an arrow that was sailing through the air, right at Hondo. I hadn’t even seen it coming.
“Whoa!” His dark eyes grew ten sizes. “Thanks.”
She shot him a side glare. “I should’ve let it skewer you.”
With a slow grin, Hondo waggled his eyebrows at me as if to say She totally likes me.
Ixtab said, “The middle of the field is probably not the safest place for you to stand. Come.”
Oh, good. She cared about our safety. Excellent sign. Plus, I was glad for the extra time to think up an excuse for why we’d come here. My brain churned out the possibilities. I could ask her about the mud person and mapping. Seemed like a perfectly legit reason to cruise to Xib’alb’a. Then we could scram out the back exit of Pus River. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing. I’d not only get to South Dakota, but I’d get there with some answers.
We made the steep climb up the nine terraces, which Ixtab told us represented each of the nine layers of the underworld. At least until she “finished the new upper level.”
Then she said, more to herself than us, “Heaven gets thirteen layers, so surely the underworld is worthy of one more.”
We finally reached the top. Sheer white drapes hung in neat rows across the temple’s ten-foot opening. The curtains parted as we approached. We found ourselves in the most luxurious room/temple/penthouse I’d ever seen. The light pink walls looked like they had been hand-plastered in a swirling pattern. Along the gold-trimmed ceiling were jaguar heads carved out of jade and other gemstones I didn’t recognize. There were ornate chairs with thick-fringed pillows and granite tables with scrolled feet.
Hondo let out a low whistle as he looked around. Brooks twisted a stray curl, acting totally uninterested, but I could tell she was impressed, too. Quinn just stood at attention like the trained warrior she was. And Ren nosed around with her face way too close to all the delicate statues, which were probably worth millions of dollars.
Ixtab looked my uncle and me up and down and huffed. Then she spoke into a bracelet. “Get Itzel up to my private chamber immediately.”
Hondo, Brooks, and I exchanged glances. A second later an old woman walked in. She was wearing a raggedy dress that looked pretty much like a burlap chile sack. She was nothing but gray and ash tones and looked like a sketch that hadn’t been completely filled in.
“Get some decent clothes for our guests,” Ixtab ordered. “Something that isn’t going to drive my demons mad with hunger.”
“But that’s what these clothes were supposed to prevent,” I said.
Ixtab raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Clementino is an amateur. I don’t know why Quinn bothers with him. Everyone knows bone dust only lasts so long, and surely she realized you’d be here longer than thirty minutes.”
Quinn didn’t so much as flinch. Me? I was having a mini heart attack, worried that Ixtab was onto us and picturing our heads on tonight’s dinner menu.
Ixtab glanced back at Itzel. “They look preposterous, and I can’t take that wretched hot-dog smell.”
Seriously? She lived in pus-smelling Xib’alb’a! Of course, she probably never visited the lowest level of the underworld.
Itzel huffed. “First it was the demon-soldier uniforms. Now you expect my creations to cover these…these…” She shuddered like Ixtab was asking her to drain Blood River with a straw. “I am the world’s best designer. I have influenced the most artistic minds in history. I am not about to outfit these putrid humans, who, no matter what, will end up on every worst-dressed list. No.” She shook her head. “I will not have my name associated with such trash.”
Ixtab sighed. “Would you rather fit the giants?”
Itzel eyed each of us with beady eyes. “I have a good mind to stuff you in paisley.”
“Something discreet,” Ixtab said.
“Yeah,” Hondo said. “I definitely don’t do paisley.”
“Fine,” Itzel crabbed. “Polka dots it is.” Then she huffed and stomped off.
Brooks looked at me and shrugged. I only hoped Itzel had better taste than what she was wearing.
“Now, Zane,” Ixtab said, “why are you here?”
I had to proceed cautiously. Ixtab was cunning and had pulled off the greatest Maya con of all time by duping the gods into thinking I was dead. It would be too easy to walk into a trap, so I had to be on guard. I unfolded bits and pieces of what had happened at Cab’s. Ixtab listened without a single emotion on her face. Not even a twitch. Was she breathing? “So…uh…” I hated that my voice trembled. “I need to know who made the mud person and why they’d want to map me or—”
“I’ve never heard of mapping.” She glanced at her watch, frowned, and tapped the screen. “Sounds preposterous.”
“We think they were trying to steal Zane’s powers,” Ren said.