I See Fire | Wattys 2021/22 Shortlist | ✔

Chapter Forty-Six

I wanted to keep my bearings with respect to the death gods' house, so I made my way back towards that first. When I drew within a few dozen meters, I made the dogs hide and wait while I climbed a hill. I lit the flame in my hand, my other arm wrapped around it to shield it from view. "Matzin."

The tilt was sharper this time, pointing off to the rear of the house. I extinguished the flame and held my breath as a Tzitzimitl stalked by. She carried on towards the river. My adrenaline was already so high, the extra threat sent tingles through my fingers and up my arms. I eased myself down the hill again. I couldn't get too cocky. It would be better to leave the dogs behind for now; I was quieter alone. I moved like a wraith in the direction the flame had pointed, flitting from bush to shadow, hill to hill. I stopped at last as the ghostly form of white masonry showed between the hills again. I was breathing harder than I should have. My hand went to my chest automatically. My heart was still beating. I was almost surprised.

Ahead was a low, white-walled block, half buried in a hillside. It looked like a building; it had a thatched roof and a door tall enough for Mictlantecuhtli to walk through. "Matzin?" I breathed over my upturned hand. The flame pointed straight to the building. I shut my fist. I could burn my way in, but gods knew who would come after me then. I couldn't afford to get caught when I hadn't even found the way to the sky-level yet.

Instead, I reopened my fist. "Tzitzimime?"

It found only two this time, and they weren't close. Most must have gone after the Centzon Huītznāuhtin.

Thanking my camouflaged outfit again, I dropped to my stomach and crawled towards the building. My senses were so high-strung, the shuffle of my own movements made me jump. Nobody accosted me, though, and soon I was rising as slowly as a growing sapling beside the door. Now I was darker than the backdrop. With the shadows already so dense in this part of the underworld, I hoped I could pass as a trick of the light if I didn't make any sudden movements.

Still imagining myself as a tree, I inched a hand towards the door handle. I stopped before I touched it. The building was too poorly guarded to not have some nasty spell on it.

I lit a flame on my fingertip and poked it towards the door. Burn the spells. Sure enough, something flared. The fire ate a hole in a ghostly shell that glowed in protest before shriveling into nothingness. I touched the handle next. Ward after ward melted under Fuego's touch. Only Coyol would commission a magic that was as good as cannibalistic. I wondered if she used the magic-eating properties of Cihua's power as inspiration. I ran my hand around the door one last time to confirm I hadn't missed any wards, then took hold of the handle and pushed.

The door gave a clunk and didn't budge. Of all things, a normal latch. I pressed my finger to the wood, stifling a sudden smile. Fuego might be good at one thing and one thing only, but there was a certain beauty in simplicity. Burn the wood. Smoke rose in an acrid ribbon as my fingertip sank into the door like a kid poking a hole through clay. It was more fun than it should have been. Deeper and deeper I bored, until wood gave way to cool air on the other side. I hooked my finger and bumped the latch free.

This time, the door moved on greased hinges. I held it open just a crack and listened over bated breath. There was no sound inside. With a quick step, I slid through and shut the door behind me. Even if someone detected me and tried to ward me in, I could burn through the roof. I lit a fire in my cupped hand.

I was in a room that could only be described as a village-sized... what? Cellar? Store? Shelves rose like ladders to the ceiling, and crates and chests tiled the back wall. On the shelves were baskets, more crates, gourds, bags, and boxes of every imaginable finery. Jaguar skins, rolled rugs in bright patterns, feathered costumes and fans, the sparkle of gold and dull gleam of jade. Heaps of dried chilies and cocoa beans, jewelry of coral and turquoise, exotic fruits, baskets of maize. Piles of soft cloth clothing, tools I did not recognize, the glint of obsidian weapons, and drink and food... so much food. If hunger had touched me at all here, I would have helped myself.