I See Fire | Wattys 2021/22 Shortlist | ✔

Chapter Forty-Eight

My feet found themselves, and the hills flew by as I left the village. I pushed myself to a sprint, and my body did not protest. Would this stamina persist when I left the underworld? When my matzin high wore out? Or were the gods' soul-water and the magic seeped into this place the only things sustaining me? I pushed the thought away. I could deal with my problems one at a time, and first I had to get to the tree. I didn't know how the villagers could tell when sunset and moonrise were, but I trusted them. The Mexica had certainly loved their calendars.

Tochtli had to trip me to tell me when to slow. There were still bushes scattered among the hills, but the landscape's waves had shrunk again, and the bushes looked more weatherbeaten than ever. I squinted into the near-darkness up ahead. I couldn't see the hills past a few dozen meters, but it wasn't like the gloom hid them. More like there weren't there.

A cliff? Had we reached the edge of this world? Did it have an end? Before the questions took root, we jogged from the last of the hills.

At our feet, the land plunged into a great basin to cradle what could only be a corner of Mictlan. In that corner grew a tree. No, "tree" didn't describe this. No tree should have a trunk as broad across as Grillo Negro and Tepepia combined, then combined again. My eyes followed the colossal trunk upwards. Unfathomably far overhead, the sky took on a less-than-black quality that struck me as the roof of Mictlan. The tree carried on through this into whatever black space lay past the sky. I couldn't even see branches.

Tochtli whined. I glanced down to find her gazing up at me, her body tilted towards the slope at our feet. We had a deadline. My eyes found the tree's base, and I realized what the whine was about. Centzon Huītznāuhtin paced there like ants next to Cōātlīcue. They would spot me as soon as I stepped over the valley's rim.

This hit my plan like a debris-induced snarl in a backstrap loom. Centzon Huītznāuhtin already? I had to get past them to reach the tree. I had the advantageous position to attack from, but an attack of one on many would let at least one escape, blowing my cover and alerting Coyol to both my presence and my goal. At very least, it would bring more Centzon Huītznāuhtin swarming down on me than I could handle alone.

What did I have by way of weapons? My sling was long-range, and there were enough rocks in the ground to provide me with sling shot. I was not fast enough to take out so many enemies in such quick succession, though. I wished I had a bow. That, though, brought up memories of Xochi. I pulled my spare hat from my bag and forcefully distracted myself with gathering stones. Having ammunition made me feel safer and more prepared for anything I attempted. I tied the hat-strings to my belt to make a serviceable pouch, and returned to the edge of the valley. My lack of a plan settled back over me.

The only other weapon I had with any range at all was my fire. I lit my seeking-flame. "Centzon Huītznāuhtin?"

The light split and tipped towards each of the star-warriors with unflinching precision. Could I get Fuego on a slingstone somehow, and cast it into their midst? I tried, but stone was no more flammable than water. I considered wrapping it in tinder, but there was no grass long enough to wrap, and twigs would catch in the woven sling.

Could I send Fuego down across the grass? That would solve the tinder problem, but memories of nearly burning my jacket immediately resurfaced. The fire I had sent off then had left burn marks over the grass, as clear as if Miguel, Rosa, and Graciela had drawn them in charcoal.

What if I sent it under the grass? Would it still burn?

I backed well away from the valley's edge and pressed both hands to the ground, feeling like Chal or Tezcat setting a ward. My fire magic bundled itself obediently to my hands when I called on it. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself through the haze of anxiety brought on by time's leaky bucket draining away over my head. If I was back in Grillo Negro, I could do this to bake things in fire-coal pits, or set pit traps without leaving piles of dirt around. The mere thought of my village steadied me. I was here for them, in the end. They were the reason I needed the gods' help, needed Coyol defeated, needed her to not end the world.