“NO!” I shouted. “Wait!”
Crap! It was moving too fast. It would soon vanish into the horizon if I didn’t do something pronto. Maybe it was a long shot, but…
I hopped back into the boat, tied the rope around the end of Fuego, shifted it into spear mode, and said, “Fly like you’ve never flown before.” Then I launched it toward the rock. I watched the rope unravel, and at the last second, I grabbed hold of its end. Then, with a sudden jerk, I was launched into the air, flying behind my handy spear.
Things were pretty awesome. At first. But then stupid gravity got in the way and…splash!
I plummeted into the sea, holding tight to the rope that was still jerking me forward. Salt water sprayed up my nose and into my mouth. It was just like the first time I had tried to Jet Ski back at Isla Holbox and forgot to let go of the line when I crashed. Who knew Fuego could go so fast? I choked and heaved, my eyes burned, and it was impossible to see anything. Like whether I was headed into the mouth of a giant shark or something.
With a sudden jolt, I was reeled out of the water. I stared in horror as I headed straight for a massive rock wall. Or was that a leg? With a second to spare, I released the rope, windmilled through the air, and crash-landed on a sandy shore.
Sucking air, I rolled to my knees and looked around for Fuego. It was stuck in the rock…. I take it back. It was stuck in a huge dinosaur’s mouth!
The stone stegosaurus grunted, spraying a gush of slimy ocean water from his nose into my face. The impact sent me stumbling back. Gross! Did a four-hundred-foot rock dinosaur seriously just shower me in mocos?
I wiped the slimy boogers off my face and out of my eyes. Since I’m all about giving you an honest account, yeah, some got in my mouth. Okay, a lot. But I was a little more worried about the fact that the humpback rock was alive and still had Fuego locked in his stony jaws.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Let it go.” I must have looked like an ant to this thing, and I knew better than to think it was going to listen to me, but no one messes with Fuego.
The rock dinosaur grumbled, and I ducked for cover. When I looked back, Fuego was glowing blue. Bright, electric blue. Old Steggy must not have liked that, because he wailed and dropped Fuego, which sailed back to me. With my spear safely in my grasp, I inched back. The stone monster winced. Wait a second. He was afraid of me? No, he was afraid of Fuego, but this dinosaur thing could crush us with half a step, so what was its deal?
That’s when I heard the whistling. Distant at first, then so close I was sure someone was within arm’s reach, but when I looked around, I was alone with only Fuego and shadows for company.
There it was again. The sad blues tune…it was so familiar. Sickeningly familiar. The whistling grew louder. Then came a deep, low voice I’d never wanted to hear again.
“The prophesied days are a-comin’…. Oh, they are a-comin’. Find the shadows and hide, for the days are a-comin’….”
It couldn’t be…
A long moonlit shadow crept up in my peripheral vision. I turned to see a man with long locs step from behind Steggy’s back leg.
“The boy with many troubles,” he said in the same thick accent as that day I’d encountered him on Venice Beach. “I still have your future in my pocket.”
The world spun so fast I wasn’t sure I was actually seeing the tarot-card-reading, guitar-strumming dude who had tried to read my future so many months ago. The same guy who’d said the Prophecy of Fire was only the beginning. But fire spreads. Until it burns everything in its path.
“You…What the—?” The words got jammed in my throat. “You’re…the Fire Keeper?”
The man half grinned like he wasn’t sure I was worth an entire smile. His gold front teeth glinted in the moonlight. He looked just like I remembered. His eyebrows were burned off like before. He wore a plain orange T-shirt with a pair of long shorts and had a half-chewed pencil tucked behind his ear. His left leg was inked with a red tattoo: a winged panther breathing fire from its mouth.
“I am Antonio Marcel De La Vega.” Jazz had called him Santiago before…but it made sense that the Fire Keeper wouldn’t go by his real name. He patted the rock monster. “It’s okay, Chiquita. I’ll write you a song later. And don’t worry, he’s not staying long. Our business will be over soon enough.”
“Uh…my dad, Hurakan…he told me about you, and so did the Red Queen.”
Antonio scratched the back of his neck and said, “You think I don’t know that?” He eyed Fuego, still in my hand. “I don’t like visitors who burn my baby’s mouth.”
“Baby? That—” I stopped myself before I called her a monster. “She’s, like, hundreds of feet tall and made of solid stone!”
“Her name is Chiquita, and you owe her an apology.”
Chiquita whined and tears (more like mini waterfalls) streamed down her craggy face. Seriously? She was going to pull the crying card?
“Fine,” I said. “Sorry, Chiquita…Fuego’s sorry, too. We thought you were going to eat us.”
This must have pleased the giant stone monster, because she dipped her long neck, sniffed me once, and let out a light whimper.
The Fire Keeper patted her again, then said to me, “I was in the middle of a smokin’ jam session before you interrupted me and attacked Chiquita.”
“I didn’t attack—” As soon as his face hardened, I switched gears. “Sorry, but—”