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At the top of the ramp, I nearly stumbled as I took in the scene in front of us.
The court was a ginormous stadium built of massive stones. Its walls sloped inward, and hanging at the top were stone rings like in the illustrations in my Maya book, except these had anaconda-size red snakes dangling from them.
Hondo groaned. “I hate snakes. Those are snakes, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s try to stay away from the walls.”
“Good idea,” Brooks added. “’Cause those snakes eat humans.”
Of course they did.
Hondo stretched his neck and popped his knuckles. “If I die, make sure you don’t bury my bones in the backyard next to Nana.”
“No one’s going to die,” I offered, but we all knew those were empty words. Heck, I’d never even played basketball. I’d tried a couple times, but my shorter leg didn’t exactly make me layup material.
Other than the stone walls and creepy snakes, it looked like a standard basketball court. At each end was a basket with a backboard behind it and a mini trampoline underneath. Okay, how hard could it be? Get past the dirtbags, fly into the net, and slam-dunk the ball. And, according to Brooks, whichever team scored five baskets first won.
“Where did all these spectators come from?” I asked.
“Optical illusion,” Brooks said. “Looks like tens of thousands—to intimidate you—but really there’s only a hundred or so.”
“Who cares about the people?” Hondo said. “Look at the size of those snakes!”
Bird and Jordan were suited up in black jerseys and shorts, running back and forth, dribbling, slamming the ball like it was nothing. Catching air like they had wings.
“We have to pass the ball every five steps, so no one can just run it in,” Brooks said. “It’s going to take all of us to win. We have to work together.”
I wondered how we were going to manage a victory, especially with Hondo out of it. With each second his pallor was getting grayer, and his skin was so translucent I could see the veins underneath.
A minute later we stood at the center of the court. Jordan spun a black rubber ball on the tip of his finger while wearing his signature stupid smile. Next to him stood the giant guard from the tent.
“Do you see those dragons flying up there?” Hondo said, looking at the sky.
I turned and whispered so no one else could hear, “You’re definitely starting to hallucinate.”
“Ooh,” Jordan said with fake concern. “He’s looking pretty… sick. Don’t you think, Bird?”
My legs trembled, and heat clawed my throat. It took every ounce of strength I had to build a wall between me and these guys so they wouldn’t know what I was thinking. Deep down, I wanted to feed their heads to the snakes. But that wouldn’t save Hondo, and it wouldn’t get me closer to defeating Ah-Puch. I had to stay focused.
“We’ll even let you losers go first.” Jordan tossed me the ball.
I caught it—barely. It was as heavy as a bowling ball. “How’re we supposed to play with this?”
“We could bring out the ball of daggers if you’d prefer,” Bird said slowly.
“Uh—no. This one… is fine,” I said.
Jordan leaned closer, hovered, then whispered slowly, “The snakes haven’t been fed for a few days.”
I swallowed the swelling lump in my throat.
“First one’s on us,” Bird said.
I looked around. The spectators were on their feet. Some were pointing and laughing.
“First one?” I said.
Jordan rolled his eyes and said to Bird, “You should explain what head start means to the moron.”
