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With Fuego’s help, I hurried down to the fray, pushing through the small crowd that was munching on donuts, bagels, and burritos.
“Look!” someone called out. “It’s Zane Obispo!”
I stepped between Marco and the tall dude just as a fist was thrown.
Bam!
The knuckles landed squarely on my jaw, driving me to my knees. White stars danced in my vision, blood filled my mouth, and my skull felt like it had been crushed with a hammer.
That’s when everything descended into chaos. Bagels were flung. Then donuts, bacon, and fruit. Before I knew it, soggy food was showering down faster than the snow.
Feet shuffled; hollers and grunts sounded. People were shoving and tripping one another, ducking and dodging. Monkeys shrieked and swung from the trees as the snow thickened. It was total mayhem, and for what?
Wiping blood off my lip with the back of my hand, I managed to crouch-stagger away from the wayward fists and flying bananas. I really wanted to launch some flames, but we were too close to the trees. A powdered-sugar donut smacked my cheek just as an earsplitting roar sounded.
Everyone froze—except the monitos, who vanished into the trees.
Hondo stood at the edge of the pandemonium with a grim expression and Rosie at his side. “Who started this?”
It really was ironic. I mean, here was the guy who used to throw ragers and watch wrestling matches with his friends through clouds of cigar smoke. And now he was acting like some kind of…adult?
The tall dude, who had grape jelly smeared across his face, pointed at Marco. “This jerk. He threw the first punch.”
At that moment, the thing I hated most about Marco was his punch-now-ask-questions-later attitude. It was his fist that had knocked me to the ground, and the guy didn’t even look sorry.
“You guys want to fight?” Hondo said to the entire group. “You’ve got extra energy to spend? All godborns to the arena—now!”
“But training doesn’t start until tomorrow,” someone said.
“Yeah?” Hondo’s jaw looked like it was set in stone. “Well, tomorrow came early.”
Everyone hesitated, bits of food dripping from their faces. Then Rosie, with eyes blazing, roared so loud, godborn feet got moving rápido.
As everyone filed out, Marco spat a loogie on the littered ground and said to me, “Don’t look at me! He totally deserved it, and you got in the way.”
The tall godborn came at him, but he didn’t connect before Hondo threw up an arm, blocking the guy’s advance. “Dude! I won’t ask again.”
“What about him?” The guy pointed at Marco, who was wearing the kind of smirk everyone wants to wipe off with a double bleach wipe.
“Go!” Hondo warned, pushing his snow-covered hair back.
The guy muttered under his breath and took off while Marco clenched his jaw.
“You okay?” Hondo asked, noticing my fattening lip.
I nodded, opening and closing my jaw as he clapped me on the back. Then, with a snicker and raised fists, he teased, “Did you have to box it out with the miniature monkeys?”
“Ha! Funny,” I said. “But we don’t have time for this. I found chapat.”
“What’s chapat?” Marco asked.
Hondo exhaled and turned to Marco. “Why are you still here?”
Marco stepped closer, his chin turned up all defiant. “Something creepy happened,” he said, looking around. “And since I don’t see anyone in charge, I guess you guys should know about it.”
Louie stepped out from behind a tree, a miniature monkey on his shoulder. He was feeding it scraps of chocolate. For the first time, I noticed the snow had stopped.
“Marco was sticking up for me,” he said, and the monkey nodded vigorously. “That guy was making fun of my dream about Chaac. I saw the rain god opening and closing his mouth like a fish.” He mimicked the movement. “He was drowning in darkness.”
