I See Fire | Wattys 2021/22 Shortlist | ✔

Chapter Thirty-One

The window blocks went transparent the moment Tezcat left. They all shared a view onto Tlalocan now: the battlefield outside. An eerie, demonic screaming filled the distance. I flinched as a slingstone shattered against a window. The ward on the room this time was far stronger than the one I'd seen pierced by silvered arrows: a full moon ward, for protection alone rather than half protection, half disguise. There was no point hiding a house that was already surrounded.

Xolotl's dogs joined me at the window. The gods had reappeared back-to-back in a circle outside. Sling-shot and arrows missed them by magical inches as projectiles poured in. The Centzon Huītznāuhtin front was a ways off, congealed into a solid ring of shields. In each of the cardinal directions, this became deeper at the back. No fire came from these sections. I suspected this was where the spellcasters were hiding.

Quet and Tlaloc were deep in discussion while their siblings surveyed the field. Xipe twirled his rattle-staff. Chal and Tezcat each had a hand on Tezcat's spear, from which emanated a faint purple-and-turquoise glow that I suspected was at least partially to blame for their enemies' poor aim. The projectiles slowed as the Centzon Huītznāuhtin realized their futility. In the calm that followed, the screaming too died away. Bows shifted behind the shields, replaced by the glint of obsidian blades.

A solitary man blew a shriek on a whistle, and the ring of shields charged with a roar. Quet lifted an arm to the sky and snapped his hand into a fist.

The clouds moved.

Slowly but terrifyingly surely, they began to rotate.

The deep rumble of some wind more powerful than an earthquake eclipsed all other sound. The Centzon Huītznāuhtin slowed, then planted their feet as helmets began to fly from heads. A lost shield tumbled away. Xochi's first arrow zipped through the gap with devastating accuracy. She held her next one out to Tezcat, who touched its tip. When it flew, it too cut the wind. I covered my mouth, feeling sick as another Centzonhuītznāhua fell. They didn't bleed.

At a motion from Quet, a wall of wind whipped from ground to sky behind the Centzon Huītznāuhtin. It was thick with debris in an instant. A flash of lightning marked where a luckless Centzonhuītznāhua met the barrier as it tightened like the world's biggest noose. It squeezed the back line into their comrades, and those into the line of shields. The only way out was forwards. Shields bunched together, and the charge regained its footing.

In an instant, slings appeared in the hands of all the gods except Tlaloc and Quet. A hail of rocks and glass-studded clay ripped into the enemy front. They returned a bigger volley. Tezcat dropped both hands to the ground, and an all-purple ward sprang up around the gods. He shouted to Chal. Xolotl took out what must have been his fifth Centzonhuītznāhua with a lethally aimed stone. Chal came up shoulder to shoulder with Quet. They clasped their raised hands and yanked them groundwards.

A funnel spun from the rotating disk of the clouds, heavy like a wet snake and light like the whip. Chal and Quet moved in synchrony. Their free hands played the strings of the air, and the funnel responded. It sucked Centzon Huītznāuhtin up and dropped them, looped sideways and cut through their ranks, stripped them of their helmets and shields, and sent their weapons flying. For every one that fell, ten more closed in. The highest density clustered around the spellcasters holding the house, protecting them from harm.

Quet kept the funnel up as long as he could, then lost hold of it and dropped to his knees. Chal's contribution exploded in a spray of water. The wind-wall behind the enemy roared on. The Centzon Huītznāuhtin stopped firing as they drew too close to avoid hitting their own, and spears, clubs, and obsidian macuahuitl swords like Xipe's rose. At four points in the crowd, Centzon Huītznāuhtin lifted skull-shaped whistles and blew out the unearthly scream.

I understood now what Xochi had meant about these people. They weren't people. They were like ants. They were innumerable copies of the same face, the same body, and they moved like they shared a mind. The four lowered their whistles with the same hand and lifted different weapons in identical ways. One fell to an arrow from Xochi, another to a stone from Tezcat. They grimaced as they fell, but their brothers poured past them.

Tezcat dropped the ward. He and Xipe exchanged a nod, spun their weapons and took the mob head-on. Xipe's staff changed form so many times I could hardly keep it in sight. Tezcat's spear tripped and slashed, cracked heads, punted bodies, and tore holes in armor. Its blades smoked where they struck. Xolotl and Chal had become shadows in a storm, ducking and dodging with knives in their hands. A spear plunged at Xolotl's chest and he vanished; a dog darted clear. He was a shapeshifter, too?

A macuahuitl replaced the spear. Tezcat parried it, but other Centzon Huītznāuhtin lunged from behind. Xolotl escaped as a dog again, narrowly dodged an arrow, and dove to shelter behind Xipe. The golden god took the head off his pursuer. Another bulled forwards. This one fell to an arrow from Xochi, who was sniping from Tlaloc's shadow of protection.

Another Centzonhuītznāhua raised his bow. Why were they firing in such close quarters? Xolotl dodged the arrow again, and it shot another Centzonhuītznāhua. Undeterred, the bow lifted again. Tezcat slashed the bowman's throat. Stones and an arrow took out two more. A third fired; Xolotl evaded again, and the arrow took Tezcat through the leg. He sneered and dispatched this Centzonhuītznāhua, too.

The gods were being pressed harder and harder. Tlaloc stamped the ground and whirled his mighty staff, keeping a space clear around himself, Xochi and Quet. Chal shouted an alarm as another wave of Centzon Huītznāuhtin charged across the bodies of their brothers. Tlaloc pulled Quet to his feet and pressed through the swarm towards their beleaguered siblings. They were nearly reunited when a Centzonhuītznāhua dove through their defenses and seized Xolotl's leg.

My heart stopped. Xipe sank a throwing spear through the intruder's back. The Centzonhuītznāhua fell dead as the remaining gods broadened the ring around their brother. Xolotl's dog form had its tail between its legs. Quet crouched beside him. At a shout from Tlaloc, all five gods around them launched a withering assault on their enemies. The Centzon Huītznāuhtin fell back until it finished, and Chal dropped both hands to the ground.

I had thought the rumble in the earth was the hurricane wall, but as Quet lost hold on this, too, it blew itself out and the rumble didn't fade. For the first time, the Centzon Huītznāuhtin hesitated. The fingers of anvil crawler lightning sent chills through the clouds. Tlaloc had completed his half of the storm.

Thick rain and hail the size of fists hit the enemy in a wall of water and ice. With their helmets gone and many missing their shields, they were defenseless. They scattered and backed away, slipping in puddles and rolling ankles on giant hailstones. Courtesy of Chal, only the ground around the gods was dry.

I saw the gods' plan moments before it took shape. The enemy spellcasters scattered. Centzon Huītznāuhtin with faster reflexes shouted, seized each other and teleported. The injured and stunned were not so lucky as Tlaloc brought his lightning staff down on the soil.