As the night sky descended upon the land, a single bright star drew the attention of several oddly dressed men in the courtyard; their elaborate feathered wardrobes made them look more like freakish bird creatures. William thought they might be ancient Mayan astronomers, based on how they pointed to the star amidst their heated discussions.
After studying the star for a time, William realized it was actually Venus. He had, of course, seen the planet countless times throughout his life, and he never gave it a second thought. Yet something about its location in the sky troubled the Mayan stargazers. One of the men became agitated and yelled something that William understood to mean a bad omen. He said it was the wrong night for the ceremony, but their leader wouldn’t listen. The man flapped his arms in such an animated manner as he spoke that it seemed he might take flight in his feathered costume at any moment. Instead, he stormed off with the other men following close behind him.
Soon thereafter, servants lit torches around the bottom of the pyramid and in scattered locations around the clearing. William and Betty ducked back inside, hiding in the darkened corner of the chamber, as torches flamed at points along the stairway and around the platform at the top of the pyramid.
Betty let out a big sigh after the torch lighters left. “We have to get out of here,” she said.
“I know,” William agreed, his blonde eyebrows furrowing in thought. He looked at his watch. “It’s nightfall here, but for us it’s more like three in the morning. I think we should try to sleep a little, and then sneak out in the middle of the night.”
“I don’t think I can sleep in this creepy place. What if someone comes?”
“We’ll take turns,” William said. “You go first. I’ll wake you in an hour or so.”
She agreed, lying down on the hard stone floor in the corner of the narrow room, practically falling asleep the moment her eyes closed.
William crept over to the chamber’s entrance and looked around the corner. Groups of peasants passed near the base of the pyramid carrying baskets of food, as they hurried toward the sounds of the festivity off in the distance.
“Oh crap,” William grumbled, noticing twenty or more guards standing around the perimeter of the courtyard. He wondered if they would be standing there all night, and he contemplated ways to sneak around them. While he considered the options, the scent of cooking meat drew his attention. His stomach growled, and he suddenly craved for his mom’s cooking.
Tears welled up in William’s eyes when images of his mom entered his mind, imagining the pain she had to be going through, thinking that he had drowned. He wondered if his girlfriend would even care that he was missing. When they moved from California, she was supportive at first. But he hadn’t seen her for over five months… since his dad died. He even had to finish his junior year through an online program. Her emails and calls had become distant, and less frequent.
William shook his head, deciding it was stupid to worry about those things right then. It wouldn’t matter if his head ended up on a stick on the outskirts of town! All he could do was try to survive. He moved back into the shadows beside Betty to wait for nightfall.
William woke up Betty by holding his hand over her mouth, to keep her from making any noise. “Everyone’s down there,” he whispered. “I think the whole freaking town is right at the bottom of these steps.”
“What’s happening?” Betty asked, rubbing her eyes as she stood.
“They’ve been preparing for some kind of ceremony over the last couple hours… chanting, banging drums, waving incense… all kinds of nonsense. The warriors… they’ve been herding all the people into the clearing. There’s obviously something they want everyone to see here.”
“What if they find us?” she asked.
William nodded, also worried about how the full moon and burning torches lit up their hiding place. “They don’t know we’re here, Betty. Hopefully, they won’t think to look in our direction. We’ll let this ceremony blow over, and slip out later.”
The sounds of chanting and drums beating in the distance created a chilling combination to the already spooky atmosphere, as five gruesome figures ascended the pyramid steps, creeping up like a dark fog.
“Someone’s coming!” Betty whispered.
Four of the men were painted in patterns of black and red; they wore odd devil-like masks. The fifth man in the center of the group had, what appeared to be, the actual head of a boar over his own head, with horns and long feathers jutting out the top. In his hand, he wielded a long black dagger. Spears were the weapon of choice for the four devil-men, and they thumped them against the stone platform in unison with the chants and drum beating below.
The boar-man set his knife down on the altar at his feet and began chanting. He moved over to one of the torches, lit a stick, and held it to an incense burner until the sweet smoke billowed out the top. As he continued his grunting chants, he waved the incense around the platform. He even made a complete tour through the chamber with his smoky jar.
William released an inaudible sigh, relieved that they were not noticed there, pressed against the stone wall in the shadows. He peered around the corner again to see what was happening.
The boar-man set the incense burner down on a ledge near the chamber’s entrance. He placed a shiny ceramic bowl on the altar, reached into his cape, and retrieved a shiny black needle. He stretched his arms high over his head, and then pierced his left palm with the needle. Blood dripped from his self-inflicted wound, making a pinging sound as it splattered into the bowl beneath him.
He stepped back, handed the needle to the devil-man on his right, and continued chanting, with animated and jerking motions.
The four devil-men each took their turn of bloodletting, followed by a couple dozen others. One after another, they made their way up to give their donation. Some cut their lips, some pricked their ear lobes, and many chose to let blood from their tongue. When they were done, they returned down the steps from where they came, like some bloody form of taking communion.
The boar-man reached into the bloody bowl with his fingers. He wiped the blood on his mask and on the masks of the four devil-men, painting zigzag streaks of red. He threw splashes of the blood all around the pyramid’s platform, and then lifted the bowl to the heavens, speaking in a loud voice that carried over the courtyard below.
William recognized the voice of the leader, the one who spoke earlier at the base of the pyramid, now concealed beneath the ghoulish boar mask. He leaned over to Betty, whispering, “He’s saying something about a divided family again. The Gods will… solidify the kingdom this night, ending the division with the needed sacrifice.”
The leader in the boar mask poured the remaining blood across the altar. He set the ceramic bowl aside and picked up his dagger, raising it with both hands to the sky. Blood trickled down his wrist and forearm.
The chanting from the crowd increased to the intensity of a football stadium during a goal-line stand, drowning out the cry of a single man being dragged up the steps. Three others rose into view; their bodies were painted with black and white streaks. They jerked one of the captives forward by the rope around his neck. The prisoner screamed as he approached the altar, begging for his life.
William and Betty watched from around the corner of the chamber as the four devil-men grabbed the prisoner by his limbs and flung him onto the altar, arching his back over it. His arms and legs flexed and convulsed as he tried to break free, but the hands that held him down were too strong.
The leader reached into his pocket and threw some powder into the air. “Chunbesah… kuxtal… kimil,” he chanted in a deep voice, raised the dagger high, and buried it into the man’s chest.
William winced at the sight of blood spurting forth, and he could almost feel the man’s pain through his agonizing screech.
The captive’s body convulsed like a fish pulled from the water, before going limp. A devil-man stepped forward and lopped off the guy’s head with a heavy stone axe. The leader displayed the head to the crowd, and he dropped it into a wicker basket held by one of his masked assistants.
The zebra-painted escorts dragged the headless body back down the stairway; the corpse thumped hard against each step.
William swallowed against the nausea, feeling a strong urge to vomit after what he had just witnessed.
The five executioners resumed their positions at the top of the steps, waiting for their next victim. A young boy, no more than thirteen years old, came into view. He did not put up any resistance to the men who held his rope.
“Oh no,” William muttered.
Betty put her hand over William’s mouth, with a warning look in her eyes.
The boy turned to face the crowd, and he raised his arms to the heavens. A loud collective gasp resonated, amidst some isolated cries from the women below. The boy lied back on the altar, and the four devil-men held his limbs to the stone slab.
Anger began to build within William, the likes of which he had never felt before. He pictured his younger cousin, about to be killed short by a gang of murdering psychos. Yet he had to be quiet. He had to let it pass. The sooner it ended, the sooner he and Betty could slip out.
The leader tossed up another handful of powder and chanted, “Chunbesah… kuxtal… kimil.” He raised the dagger above his head.
“Stop!” William yelled, as he bolted from the shadows and shoved the leader away from the boy, causing him to stumble backwards several steps to the edge of the stairway. William caught eye-contact with the leader through the eye-holes of his boar mask, and he could see his startled reaction. The leader took another step backwards, tripped, and toppled down the steep stairway, his mask flying off along the way.
The entire assembly seemed frozen in silence; it was as though time had stopped. William felt the attention of a thousand eyes fixed upon him.
Betty ran to his side, eliciting a gasp from all those assembled when they saw her.
The men in devil masks released their hold on the young prisoner and backed away from William, moving several steps below the upper platform.
“What did you do?” Betty asked. She looked at the leader sprawled out at the bottom of the steps.
“I had to stop it. I didn’t mean to…” William followed Betty’s stare below. “Oh God… is he… is he dead?”
“Uh… yeah!” Betty said with a certainty on her face. She kneeled beside the boy on the bloody alter. “Are you okay?”
William noticed that the other devil men also kneeled the moment she did. He shifted his attention to the boy. After exchanging eye contact for several seconds, the boy stood atop the altar; a giant smile spread across his face. For a moment, William thought he had braces, but then he realized that there were small gems embedded in his teeth that sparkled in the moonlight.
The boy turned to gaze across the crowd gathered below. He nodded, seeming pleased when he saw the dead man at the bottom of the steps. He clasped his hands together and raised them to the sky. “Ts’oysah!” he called out, his voice echoing through the valley.
The people below chanted in unison, “Ts’oysah… Ts’oysah… Ts’oysah…” He opened his hands to the crowd, silencing everyone at once, and turned to face William again. The boy kneeled before him with his head touching the bloody altar.
Betty gasped. “William… look!” She pointed to the crowd below. They were also kneeling in the same manner. “They’re honoring you.”
It seemed unreal. William became light headed as the gore around him sank in, seeing the blood everywhere: all over the altar, on the boy’s skin, covering the devilmen, and splattered along the steps. He spotted the head in the basket at his feet; it stared back at him with a look of terror still frozen on its lifeless face. Everything turned dark, and William passed out right where he stood, falling to the ground with a heavy thump.
He saw Betty and the boy staring down at him from above, as he felt the sensation of floating down a lazy river that lulled him into a very deep sleep.
William slept for a long while. Vague memories of being forced to eat and drink intertwined in his dreams. He found himself at the edge of a lake. His father stood on the other side. He waved to him, but his dad didn’t see him. He yelled, but he didn’t hear him either. As he approached the water to swim across, a giant crocodile lunged out from the lake, roaring like a lion.
He snapped awake to the sound of a thunderclap, kicking his feet as he attempted to escape the beast from his nightmare.
“William,” Betty said, “you’re up!”
He looked in every direction until he found Betty at the foot of his bed. For a moment he wasn’t sure if it was really her, wearing a necklace of colorful sea shells, jade bracelets, earrings, and a silly looking feathered headdress.
“I know, I know, I look ridiculous, don’t I? But they insisted that I wear all this stuff,” she said.
“How long…”
“You’ve been out for a couple days… since that escapade on the pyramid. You came down with a bad fever from the infected cuts on your feet. They drugged you with something… you were pretty much out of it. You seemed to be getting better, so I figured they knew what they were doing.”
William looked down at his wrist to check the time, but his watch was gone.
“Don’t know what time it is for sure,” Betty said. “I’d guess it’s late morning.”
A heavy rain tapped on the roof with occasional thunderclaps in the distance. William sat up and stretched out the ache in his back from sleeping on such a firm bed; a stone rising, low to the ground, covered by thick layers of animal skins. “Where am I?” he asked.
“The palace of that little boy you saved. Would you believe that he is some kind of king here now?”
While trying to comprehend that idea, William scanned his surroundings like a sleepy bear coming out of hibernation. Small holes in the plaster wall allowed minimal light to enter from the outside, but a couple of lit torches kept the room illuminated. Beautiful artwork surrounded him. A Mayan wall painting of a half-man, half-jaguar creature caught his attention. Beside it, a tall statue of a Maize god stood in the corner of the room, facing William’s bed.
He tried to recall the events of the other night. “How could that boy be a king? They were about to kill him!”
Betty shrugged. “I know, weird, huh? That’s what I wondered too. It’s like you killed the wicked witch and then the kid you saved took charge. Maybe you can figure it out. I don’t understand anything they’re saying.”
William sighed, feeling guilty. “I’ve never killed anyone before.”
“Hey, he deserved it,” she said, reassuring him. “Besides, he took that last step back on his own… more of a lucky accident. Everyone here seems delighted about the sudden turn of events, from what I can tell. So don’t worry about that. We’re safe now.”
William detected a flowery smell, and he traced it to an incense burner drizzling out a small stream of smoke from a stone slab in the center of the room. “How did I get here?” he asked.
“You passed out up there like a cut-down tree. Kerplop! They carried you down here and cleaned you up-put some goop on your cuts.”
When he looked at his bandaged feet, he noticed that his shorts had been exchanged for a loincloth wrapped between his legs and tied at his waist. Small ruby-colored stones sparkled along the length of fabric draped between his thighs.
The sound of giggling drew his focus to the arched doorway of his room, where he noticed two Mayan women peering in. Seeing them sparked an odd vision-a foggy memory of a beautiful young woman with long black hair flowing over her shoulders; she was rubbing oil on his body while gazing into his eyes.
The women in the doorway ran off, hollering something he couldn’t understand.
“I guess they know you’re awake,” Betty said. “I’m sure that little king will be here any minute. He’s been checking in on you a lot. He can’t wait for you to wake up.”
“Uh huh,” William mumbled, not hearing a word of what Betty just said, still thinking about the girl caressing his body, wondering if it was a dream. He wiped his hand along his chest, feeling a greasy residue, and he smiled, realizing that the girl really had been there with him.
“They put something on your skin-mine too-to help with our bites. It also keeps the bugs away,” she said, and looked over to the doorway. Fast approaching footsteps drew William’s attention as well.
The boy king charged into the room, out of breath from running all the way there. He approached William with a giant grin on his face, exposing his pointy jeweled teeth.
Betty stepped away from the bed and sat on a stone bench, watching with a smirk as the King began blabbering away.
“Wait, hold up.” William held his hands out in a halting gesture. “Ma’ti naati kech.” He explained that he didn’t understand. “Please speak a little slower,” he said in Yucatec-Maya.
The boy didn’t seem to understand William’s words at first, but he picked up on his hand language to slow down. Yet even at a slower pace, William could only grasp occasional words. He gathered that the King wanted to know how he was feeling, where they were from, and what his name was.
“Ah, let’s start with that,” William said in Yucatec-Maya, pointing to his forehead, “William.” He enunciated each syllable. “Will-iam.”
“Balam,” the boy said, mispronouncing William’s name somewhat. His eyes grew wide in reverence, and he raised his hands to the heavens as though William had just said he was Jesus.
“Sure… that’s close enough,” William said with a laugh. He pointed at Betty. “This is Betty,” he said. “Be-tty.”
“Bati,” the King said. He gave her a respectful nod.
“Yes, Balam and Bati,” William said. He gestured to the boy. “What is your name?”
“Yax,” he said with a big smile. He turned to the doorway and clapped his hands twice, drawing in two chubby Mayan women with baskets of jewelry and accessories.
“No, that’s okay,” William said, waving his hands.
“No use trying, William,” Betty said. “They think they’re doing you a favor.”
“Oh, fine.” He tried to relax as they adorned him with a beaded necklace and a headdress with a colorful collection of quetzal feathers. He glared at Betty. “If my girlfriend saw me like this… that would really be the end of our relationship.”
Betty’s face tightened as she held back her urge to laugh. “No, I think this is your look, Will.”
The elder Mayan woman inspected William’s feet. She seemed pleased with how they had healed and presented him with sandals. As he put them on, Yax explained how they had made them just for his extra large feet. He urged William to stand.
William stepped gingerly on the floor and smiled, pleased to not feel the painful sting in his step anymore. Betty walked beside him as they followed Yax down the hallways of the grand palace. A bit of an entourage gathered behind them as they went-Mayan nobles trying to get a peek at them. William sensed that they had never seen such unusual visitors before.
As they passed by statues of gods and wall paintings of battles and sacrifices, it occurred to William that had he been an archeologist, the experience would have been the highlight of his career. But at that moment, all the beautiful artwork only reinforced the reality of their predicament and brought on a wave of dread.
They arrived at a large courtyard open to the outdoors; a vast spread of food had been laid out before them on colorful embroidered rugs. Giant stone columns supported a thatched roof that protected them from the rain.
Yax sat on a raised stone slab covered with animal skins. “Kutal’ex,” he said, motioning for William and Betty to sit on the rugs beside him.
Other Mayan nobles-men and women-entered the courtyard, gawking at the two strangers as they made their way in. William never liked to be the center of attention. Being treated like some royal Mayan celebrity made him feel awkward.
Servants busied themselves bringing in more food, bowing as they set it down. Large wooden trays contained an assortment of fruits-mangos, papayas, and other food he had never seen.
An eerie melody echoed through the courtyard as musicians beat on drums and blew into wooden flutes of varying sizes.
An unusually attractive Mayan woman, covered in dazzling jewelry, entered from another archway. She was dressed in a tight fitting huipil that clearly displayed her perfect figure. Her feathered headdress looked like a peacock spreading its tail. As she approached, the sun broke through the clouds briefly, causing her to sparkle like a celebrity at the Academy Awards show. She sat to the left of Yax and regarded William with a curious smile.
William felt uncomfortable by the young woman’s stare, and he had a strange feeling that he knew her from somewhere. He shifted his attention away from her, but felt her gaze still upon him.
Yax licked his lips in anticipation of the feast and twiddled his fingers over the platter of food before him, not sure what to grab first. All the others watched, apparently waiting for him to begin. Yax grabbed a single small berry, tossed it in the air, and caught it in his mouth. Everyone laughed and began eating.
The beautiful woman beside Yax rolled her eyes up; she seemed embarrassed. William wondered if she was the boy’s mother. Yet beneath her decorative attire, and the swirly designs painted on her face, she looked closer to his own age.
While feasting and chatting with one another, the courtyard filled with laughter and merriment. William inhaled his meal like a dog chowing down his first ever scrap of meat. He helped himself to plenty of fruit and tortilla pancakes, and he gulped down several cups of a delicious chocolate-flavored drink.
Betty picked at her food, while the chubby man beside her urged her to try the stringy meat from a platter with flies buzzing over it.
After the little king had eaten his fill, he stood, silencing all those around him. His demeanor transformed from that of a boy, to a serious ruler. He began speaking, and the people clung to his every word. At first, Yax spoke in angry and harsh tones. Later, his speech became optimistic and inspirational. He seemed to be grabbing something with his hand. When he opened his fist, he set it on William’s shoulder, staring at him with a sense of deep gratitude in his eyes. Everyone began beating their hands on the floor in applause.
Betty leaned over and jabbed William with her elbow.
“What’s he saying?”
“He went a little fast. But I think the guy who fell down the steps was somehow related to him. That was the family division I had heard before-two in line for the throne. They think the gods sent us to… set things right.”
“Balam! Balam!” the King chanted. The others joined in, even Betty, repeating the new pronunciation of his name. The King sat and motioned for William to stand.
“Oh great,” William said, “I think they want me to give a speech.”
“Ask them if they know how we can get home,” Betty said with a hopeful look.
The crowd continued to chant, “Balam… Balam… Balam,” until at last he stood. Everyone became silent and gazed at William with reverence-except for the young lady seated next to Yax, who looked at him like he was going to be her dessert.
William cleared his throat, speaking in Yucatec-Maya as best he could. “I know my words sound different,” he said, motioning with his hand across his mouth. “I just want to say, that…” he paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words, frustrated that he didn’t know how to explain what had happened to them, “…we need to go back to where we are from.”
Upon seeing some confused and worried looks, it occurred to William that it may have been rude to announce that they wanted to leave after just getting there. “What I mean to say is… thank you for your help. We are happy to be here,” he said in Yucatec-Maya, forcing a smile before he sat down. He figured he’d find another venue for discussing their situation later.
The entire assembly thumped their hands on the floor, applauding his comments.
A bald Mayan with bright silver eyes stepped out from the shadows of a stone column, as a thunderclap accentuated his sudden appearance. His long braided ponytail-the only hair on the back of his head-rested against his short purple cape.
As he approached the King, he glanced at William, giving him an intense stare. “Perhaps,” he said with a power in his voice that echoed through William’s mind, “I may be of assistance.”