“The sooner this is over the better off I’ll be.” No matter what the outcome. I stand up and wince at the pain in my knee. “Where are we, anyway? I thought the mists were the last stop before Chicunamictlan.” If this is the Aztec’s idea of paradise they’re more fucked up than I thought they were.
“It is, but there’s still a lot of distance between Izmictlan Apochcalolca and Chicunamictlan. As we get closer things will look better, too. Fewer skulls on the ground, that kind of thing.”
“So no more challenges?”
“Not like the mists were, no. I’m sure you’ve got plenty still ahead of you.”
“I saw someone in there,” I say. “Thought it was this guide who talked to me. It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Maybe. I was in there, but I couldn’t find you. I kept stumbling around in the fog. Eventually I decided to wait for you out here.”
“You ever gone through it?”
“Not like that,” she says. “I know how to skirt the edges.”
“Good for you,” I say. “What’s the point of it, anyway? Weed out the weak? Toss ’em back like fish that are too small?”
“It tests a soul’s resolve,” she says. “Burns away, well, not sins. They don’t really have a concept like that here. But your doubts, fears. It’s to prove that you have the courage to continue.”
“I can see why Mictlantecuhtli locked himself up if he had to deal with judging that crap all the time.”
“He didn’t. The point is to prove it to yourself,” she says. “Just because he ruled here, doesn’t mean he told people what choices they could and couldn’t make. It doesn’t work like that. If you’re going to get through the mists, you have to want to get through the mists.”
“Jesus. Tell me that’s not what kept everybody from getting through.”
“No,” she says. “That was just Mictlan being broken. But now that you’ve gone through you’ve cleared the way for them.”
“So I was the plumber who fixed the backed up toilet.” I wonder how many of those souls who kept trying and failing, slamming their heads against a door that couldn’t open, aren’t even going to try. And what about the ones who will, but won’t get through anyway. People whose wills are too broken to pass through.
Makes me wonder if maybe I should burn the place down like Quetzalcoatl wants me to. Might be a mercy.
“So where to now, lover?” Tabitha says, finishing her apple and tossing the core over her shoulder into the dirt. Seriously, where the hell did she get an apple?
“Stop calling me that,” I say. I know she’s doing it to get under my skin. “Depends. Who’s closer? Santa Muerte or Mictlantecuhtli?” My knee is in pretty bad shape, and I can’t help but limp. Really wish I had one of Bustillo’s bone cars right about now.
“You still want to kill her?” she says. “Mictlantecuhtli tried to kill her and got caught in his own trap. All those souls stuck out there outside the mists? That was Mictlantecuhtli’s doing. She’s trying to help them.”
“Killing my sister kind of trumps all that.”
She starts to say something, then looks away, won’t meet my eyes. Whatever argument she might have dies on her lips. “I told you I’m not going to help you kill her.”
“You’re really struggling with this, aren’t you?” Is she just as caught up in this mess as I am? I don’t want to feel sympathy for her. I don’t really want to believe her. That’s already screwed me.
“What? No. Don’t be stupid. I don’t want her dead.”
“No, but you want her different,” I say. “You argued with her about my sister. What else did you argue about?”
“I don’t . . . Look, I’m her avatar. I don’t get to like everything she does. And no matter how I feel about it, I’m not going to let you destroy her.”
“I’m not asking you to,” I say. “You’re here because I needed someone to get me in here. I need a guide. I’ll find her eventually. With you, I’ll find her faster.”
“And then you’ll kill her. I don’t see how that’s any different.”
“I haven’t decided what I’m going to do, yet,” I say.
“That was bullshit the first time you said it and it’s bullshit now.” Her face goes hard. If there had been any doubts about her before, they’re gone. “You’re going to kill her and then you’re going to kill me. We both know it. So stop fucking lying about it.”
“Fine. Mictlantecuhtli, then. Or do you have a problem with me killing him, too? I don’t know who’s telling me the truth. You? Him? Her? And since when do you care about dying? I don’t know if there’s even a ‘you’ in there. So tell me, Tabitha, who do I kill? I’m gonna shank somebody. At this point I’m not sure I care who it is.”
She says nothing for a long moment and then stands up from the rock, her face grim. She turns and starts walking away. “We take the Crystal Road,” she says over her shoulder. “There’s another entrance nearby. We can reach Mictlantecuhtli’s tomb that way.”