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see I’d touched a nerve.
“Enough inconsequential drivel,” the Sparkstriker said. “I’m not about to lose my warriors to the gods’ worthless war. So both of you work together and get this thing done!”
“But Brooks is here!” I blurted. “She’s been looking for you, Quinn! You’re supposed to be—” I was shouting with the panic of someone on a sinking ship.
Quinn held up her hand. “Later. Right now, I’ve got the Stinking One to hunt down. And you? You better get ready, because you’ll only get one shot. And it better be a good one, because none of us are in the mood to die today.”
The Sparkstriker turned on her stool, grabbed me by the shoulders, and shook me once. “One shot, Storm Runner. One thrust with the spear should do it. It now has the power of your blood and fire running through it.”
“One shot… Like in the leg?” I swallowed hard.
“His head or heart would be preferable. And if you fail, I will have no choice but to unleash the gods. Until then my warriors will do their best to lead them away from Ah-Puch’s trail. Do you understand?”
Then, because people don’t usually help for no reason, it occurred to me to ask, “Why are you doing all this for me?”
“I always try to choose the winning side.”
That worked for me. I only hoped she’d made the right choice.
Quinn morphed into her eagle form. “Climb on my back and hold on. It’ll be a long way down if you fall.”
Everything was happening so fast I thought my head might explode, but Quinn was right about one thing. I had a single purpose: to find Pukeface before any of the gods did and waste the guy.
I clung to Quinn’s long, thick feathers as we sailed over the Old World. If it weren’t for the fact that there was a high likelihood my life was about to be shortened, I would’ve thought it was the coolest flight in world history. From up there everything below looked like a miniature cardboard cutout—a game board where everything, even death, is make-believe.
She soared over Puksí’ikal. I saw Hondo and Jazz were still conked-out. But Brooks… she was gone. Ugh! Someone needed to attach a locator chip to her!
“Where’s Brooks?” What if she’d been abducted or something?
“That’s not your quest. Stay focused!”
“She’s your sister!”
“There isn’t time.”
I was about to ask how one tiny detour could hurt when she lifted her head and snarled, “I’ve picked up his scent.”
A few minutes later, we were flying to the outer edges of the Old World, far from the glassy river at its heart. The jungle grew denser the farther we traveled. Every once in a while, Quinn would rotate her head to look around, then dive close to the earth. Each time I thought This is it. But then she’d sail back into the black sky. Up close, the atmosphere looked as thin as crepe paper. A tiny tear ran through its center.
“The sky looks like it’s going to rip open,” I shouted as we flew higher and higher.
“The gods aren’t united,” Quinn said. “The world will collapse if they really do go to war.”
“Don’t they care about this place?”
“Some do, some don’t. Some might even want to see the old ways destroyed.”
“Is that what you want?”
She huffed and said, “None of your business, Zane Obispo. Get your head in the game! Understand? Because either way, Ah-Puch’s going down tonight.”
My cane glowed, and its powerful pulse matched my own. One shot. I had only one shot.
I don’t know why I told her, but the words tumbled out like marbles. “I’ll become his soldier of death unless I’m the one to take him out.” I glanced at my arm, peeled the flower bandage back. The wound was better, and the mark—it was gone! Mostly. There was only a faint white outline of the skull. Had the lightning “ceremony” healed me? Even if it had, I knew I was still linked to Ah-Puch.
Quinn’s whole body stiffened, her wings spread farther, and she slowed for a split second. “And if the gods kill him?”
“He and I are connected, so I’ll die, too.”
