Joely Sue Burkhart

As promised, this week I’ll start a Maya Fantasy short story entitled “Well of Sky.” This story will be available as a freebie on the Drollerie Press website eventually (I’ll post a link when it’s up). In the meantime, I’ll share pieces of it here. If it sounds familiar, I did share the opening section several months ago (maybe not part of Friday Snippets, though). Since then, I’ve rewritten the whole piece in third person and tightened it a little.

Background: Eventually, I plan to write a fantasy series of some type using some elements of this short story as a basis. I hoped to finish the first draft this year, but I still have a *ton* of worldbuilding to do. Maybe next year!

A black jaguar crouched above, muscles coiled to pounce. In the meager shade, his eyes glowed as golden as the glaring sun.

Ignoring him, Lady Jade Mirror walked beneath the ceiba. Fire ants marched up and down her spine, stinging her scalp, but she kept her gaze locked to the dusty path. If she refused to acknowledge him, he couldn’t speak.

:Do you think so, Lady?:

Wincing, she quickened her step and concentrated on building mental stone walls taller than Kukulcan’s Pyramid. Dust kicked up beneath her sandals, and she sneezed. In all the years she’d made this solitary trek from her hut in the jungle to Itza’s Well, it had never been so dry.

The ceiba’s barren branches clacked like Lord Itzam’s ceremonial belt of finger bones. Stomach fluttering, she shivered as if those icy bones trailed over her skin.

It’s only an eclipse, she told herself. The sun will emerge triumphant.

Yet in her mind, she saw a monstrous black snake swallowing the precious sun, demons feasting on her people, and eternal darkness engulfing the dying jungles. The land was so terribly dry, and with an eclipse…

The gods required sacrifice.

Her stomach cramped harder and her hands trembled as she smoothed her hair back from her face. The people already thought she was crazy. Running across the plaza flashing her strange jade eyes and babbling about the eclipse would do little to alleviate their fear. She took several deep breaths, painted a wide smile on her lips, and stepped out of the surrounding jungle.

Huts crowded the low wall of the city’s perimeter; within, man-made mountains touched the sky. Once a major and powerful city, Itza’s Well had faded in the last year. Several huts stood empty, thatched roofs caved, doors ajar. A tapir squealed and ran into the dark, abandoned depths of a hut. Carefully tended gardens baked in the unending heat, maize stalks brittle and as empty as the cloudless sky. The black rows of fertile dirt were cracked and dry. So very dry.

As Lady Jade Mirror entered the village, solemn dark-brown eyes watched her, heavy with silent hope and fear. People lined the path, their whispers trailing her, prodding like a pointed stick. A sick heaviness settled in her stomach. Her feet slowed, stumbled, until she stood at the White Road.

The road which lead to the Sacred Cenote of Sacrifice.

Heart racing and lungs burning for air, she struggled to push away the black, cold memory. Water closing over her head. Sinking, sinking, so cold. So dark. So alone. She couldn’t breathe. She would never see the sun again.

In her mind, something brushed that horrible memory, nudging it aside like a warm muzzle in the palm of her hand. Slinking away, the jaguar growled softly, claws clicking on the stone walls she’d built to keep her sanity. Walls which these people demolished with a glance.

As a child, she’d brought the rain. That she still lived was nothing short of a miracle, the change in her eye color proclaiming she’d been touched by the gods. If they try to sacrifice me again…

Lifting her chin, she walked slowly and proudly toward the plaza. She refused to run from the White Road, from the stares and whispers. She’d made the sacrifice ten years ago. She’d paid the price for rain with her innocence, her safe brown eyes, and the final breath of her body.

I will not risk my life ever again. Not even for them.

 

# 

In the House of the Sorcerer, the air was thick with burning copal and sweet, heavy incense. With heart-felt emotion, Lady Jade Mirror smiled at Lord Itzam. Despite the master sorcerer’s awesome power, she wasn’t afraid. They had more in common than any two people in all of Itza’s Well. They’d seen the gods, and lived to tell of it.

He was the only other person with all-seeing jade eyes.

Eyes she hated.

Eyes she deliberately blinded.

Lord Itzam inclined his head to the mighty warrior at his side. “Lady Jade Mirror, this is our player today, Lord Five Shield.”

Stiffly, she inclined her head. She was suddenly very aware of the stone, the walls, the clamor of people. Forcing a deep breath, she gave her future husband a brittle smile.

As warriors went, Five Shield was impressive: tall, muscular, strong. Yet she met his flat gaze, noted the stone-carved, empty expression on his face, and disappointment welled in her heart. Of course he would not be thrilled to win the village crazy as his bride. Struggling to keep her face smooth, she dropped her gaze and surreptitiously scrubbed her damp palms on her cotton tunic.

“Do you have any questions for this warrior?”

She couldn’t pretend silent acceptance. Not when she must give up her life of solitude in the jungle to live among people in this city she’d once called home. “Why have you agreed to this?”

The warrior blinked and a small spark gleamed in his dark eyes for a moment. Surprise? Or dislike? She couldn’t be sure. “You are Itza. Marriage to you will increase my honor.”

She tried to swallow the hard lump of tears strangling her throat. I will not cry, not for him, not for any of them. “Of course.”

Five Shield inclined his head and left. Heart aching, she stared down at the floor, afraid to meet the sorcerer’s all-knowing eyes.

“Come, child, sit with me awhile. I want you to sample a new brew I made for the celebration of the sun’s rebirth.” Lord Itzam guided her deeper into his private lair. Skulls lined the walls, painted a brilliant blue-green like the sacred bird. Unfortunately, the queztl abandoned them long ago when the rains ceased. Another sign of coming doom.

For all his fearsome reputation and magics, Lord Itzam had always been kind. Even now he gave her time to compose herself, sipping his new brew from a hand-carved wooden cup. Marked with a jaguar glyph, it was the cup she always used when she came to visit him.

“Are you sure you wish to marry?”

She studied his face a moment. Ageless, unlined except for the crinkles about his eyes, skin as dark as tanned leather, his face was as much a mystery and a testament to his power as the man himself. Lord Itzam alone conversed with their ancestors. He knew the gods’ will. He told the king when to go to war against neighboring tribes, and when the people should plant. He healed the sick, helped resolve disputes, and even named each new baby’s spirit companion.

His ears were tattered, thick with old white scars, bearing witness to the many sacrifices he’d made over the years. Yet even Lord Iztam could not tell when the rains would return.

Despite the drink in her hand, her mouth was dry. “I will marry Lord Five Shield if he wins the ballgame.”

“Why?”

She respected him too much to not tell him the truth. Lord Itzam had pulled her from death to life. “I want to be normal. I want to marry, have children, and live in the city. I’m tired of living alone. I’m tired of the fearful stares, the whispers as I walk by, mothers drawing their children away as though I am some terrible monster.”

“Marriage to Lord Five Shield will not change how the people see you, child. You touched death and lived to tell of it. They will not soon forget.”

“They…” Her voice cracked, but she forced the words out. “I fear they contemplate sending me back.”

“In these dark times, with the eclipse coming, I’m sure they do. The people are afraid. They do terrible things when they’re afraid.”

Yes. Like throw children to their death in a bottomless well.

“I won’t.” Her face hot and furious, she raised her gaze to the sorcerer’s. “I won’t go into the Cenote again!”

“Of course not.” He smiled mildly, immediately diffusing her rage and fear. He was the only person who could sanction such a sacrifice. “However, I ask that you look closer at Lord Five Shield’s proposal. In many ways, marriage to him will be like leaping into the Sacred Cenote with no hope of climbing out again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only you can decide.” He reached out and lightly touched the jaguar on her cup. She felt an echo in her heart, like a pebble tossed into the sacred pool. “Will you leap for love? Or will you leap for duty?”

“Duty? I don’t marry for duty. I won’t leap at all.”

“You believe that if you lead a normal, simple life, the people will no longer fear you. But they will remember a year from now or ten. Jade eyes tell all, child. You are Itza, which is why Lord Five Shield considers you for wife. Whether you like it or not, whether you deny it or not, the gods have touched you. You feel. You see.”

Itza, sorcerer of water. Suddenly, she found herself staring into her cup. Swirling shadows formed. A warrior, holding a spear over a kneeling figure. A woman, her hands bound. The warrior grasped a hank of the captive’s hair in one hand and prepared to sacrifice her. Her jade eyes glowed in the dark liquid. Me. The vision woman allowed the sacrifice with a calm, distant look of beatific peace on her face.

A peace Lady Jade Mirror had not known since she’d drowned ten years ago.

Snarling, tail lashing, the jaguar paced the walls she’d built to keep him out of her mind. :Don’t let them sacrifice your spirit!:

Chills crept down her arms so viciously she felt as though a knife flayed her skin. Suffocating waters closed over her head. She shoved the cup away so hard that liquid sloshed on her hand. Trembling, she set the cup on the mat and refused to look at it. No water was safe, not for a child of Itza.

“You can be more, more than you ever imagined. More than the honored yet imprisoned wife of Lord Five Shield, subject to his whim. Will you let him sacrifice you if he makes such a decision? Will you sacrifice everything you are in a futile attempt to make him happy?”

“What do you want of me?” She retorted, her cheeks blazing and her chest banded with fire. Trapped, she felt trapped, suffocating, lungs full of water. She lurched to her feet and paced the small chamber, just as the jaguar padded, growling in the depths of her mind. “I don’t want to be alone!”

“No one said you had to live outside the walls, child. I begged you to come live with me.”

“Walls.” She choked, waving her hand at the stone. “Trapped.”

“Yes. And you would trap yourself even further in marriage.” Lord Itzam stood and patted her shoulder gently. “You must look into the mirror unflinchingly before you can expect others to do the same.”

He paused at the doorway and gave her a warm, loving smile that clenched her heart. Her hated eyes burned, as hot and dry as the sun. How she yearned to daily feel such love, to belong with a family where she would never be alone again.

“Dress for the ballgame. Don’t rush to a decision, child. Even if Lord Five Shield is victorious today, you are under no obligation to wed him. The choice is always yours, but you must see, child. See, and then make your choice.”

Always, his words were more riddles than advice. See what? After a simple cup of liquid proved so unsettling, she dared not look into a mirror. What magics would she see then? What horrors?

The walls of the building marched inward, looming shadows. She felt every press of stone weighing on her chest until she could barely draw breath. Whispers and laughter echoed in her mind, grating on her bones. Can I honestly live inside the city, even to belong?

Despair twisted in her stomach. Woodenly, she donned the scarlet and green woven huipil over her plain white cotton. She plaited her hair and settled the heavy shell and jade headdress on her head. She slipped the jaguar claw necklace around her neck.

And every item was another link of chain dragging her down once more into the cold, dark depths of the Cenote of Sacrifice.

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 23rd, 2007 at 8:41 pm and is filed under Writing, Friday Snippets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.