Two eyes gleamed out of the shadows, reflecting light like the
retinas of a cat.
Maggie jumped. "Whoa! Who the hell are you? Are you one of
Diego’s goons?"
Laughter from the darkness. "Am I?" Into the lighter
shadows stepped a woman whose dreadlocks framed a shadowed face, out
of which only those uncanny eyes could be seen – eyes whose pupils
now took up almost all of their space. The eyes glanced left to
regard the too-bright sunlight, and blinked closed. When they
opened, their pupils had closed a bit, so that they were now tall
tapered ovals, where they had been uncanny orbs. "Ugh,"
said the woman, "this day has become intolerable. I
can either see what’s happening in the light or what’s happening
in the shadows, not both. This is your fault, Maggie Noyr."
"I’ve got some sunglasses for you," said Maggie, and a
pair of aviators appeared in her hand. She handed them to Madame
Balam.
"Wonderful," said Madame Balam. "It’s dark and
I’m wearing sunglasses."
"And it’s pretty far to Mother Marquez," said
Alejandra.
"Let’s be moving then," said Madame Balam.
"Hang on," said Maggie. "What the hell do you want,
Madame? Why sneak up on us like this? What are you even doing here?"
"Well," purred Madame Balam, "I suppose you could
say I’m stalking two delectable creatures such as yourselves –"
"You want to fuck my moms," said Mojito. "I get
it."
Maggie gasped. "Mojito! The things coming out of your mouth!
Good heavens!"
"Mother, I remember enough of my previous life in Los Hijos
to know that kids from there aren’t stopped from learning
anything."
"Buddy boy," said Madame Balam, "I’ve already
done your mom."
"When did we become mothers?" said Alejandra.
"When we chose to protect him and bring him with us
everywhere," said Maggie.
"What I am actually in this forest for," said Madame
Balam, "is to get away from the horrible, oppressive sunlight
that a certain someone has wrought upon this place." She glared
at Maggie. "I am, as you can tell, a creature of the shadows.
Secondarily, I heard the sound of people stomping through underbrush
from a ways off, and decided that they were either a threat the nuns
would tell me about, or they were some yahoos needing a swift escort
out of this place. Imagine my surprise when I was informed that it
was a couple of yahoos needing an escort into this place. And then I
thought, oh no, they probably led some cops in here, neither of them
has ever been especially discreet."
"What are you talking about," said Maggie. "The
uniforms fooled Los Ojos without a hitch!"
"But not us," said a voice from the sunlight.
Maggie turned to the light, shielding her eyes from the glare. She
could just barely make out a group of men within it, before they
stepped into the lighter shadows and she could see them clearly –
middle-aged fellows wearing green uniforms, belted at the waist with
holsters for 2-way radios and pistols. "Jesus Christ, more
cops?"
"How the hell did you think you could fool us?" said an
officer. "Two women and a little kid wearing police uniforms,
telling us to go to a place that obviously nobody is in, and then
sauntering away towards the park? We’ve been tailing you ever since
you stepped out of Los Hijos, you morons."
Maggie shrugged. "It was worth a shot."
"Hands where we can see them," said another officer.
"You’re coming with us."
"Which is nowhere," said a voice from the sunlight, and
out of the light stepped all thirteen nuns, who swiftly linked their
arms with the police officers, three or four to a man. No matter how
much any one officer attempted to extricate himself, or move a single
nun an inch, they could not escape.
"I’ll solve this," said Maggie. "Every police
officer is now at the edge of the park." And each police officer
vanished.
The nuns were startled. Then they all glared at Maggie.
Maggie shrugged. "Hey, it gets them out of the way."
"And then they’ll be coming back into the way as soon as
they get their bearings," said Madame Balam. "Let’s
move." She grabbed Maggie by the hand with a shockingly strong
grip and dragged her forward into the dark shadows of the underbrush.
Long time it seemed they picked their way over logs and around
thorn bushes, or maybe it was just such an awful chore that it felt
longer. Certainly the brightness was not fading from the sky. Maggie
cursed as she caught her sleeve on a thorn branch. "That does
it, I declare that thorn branches will let travelers pass." And
the branch released her.
Madame Balam whirled around to glare at Maggie with those
gleaming eyes. "I should have paid attention to the rumors,"
she hissed, "but I did not take you for a fool until now. What
exactly did you think was protecting Mother? Now any determined
person can get there, like the officer you so mercifully placed
outside the forest."
"Forgive me for being impatient," growled Maggie, "but
when Mother Marquez said to meet her in here, I assumed she wanted me
there immediately. I will not tolerate delays if she does not."
"Oh for – fine. You wanted to move fast, so let’s move
fast." And Madame Balam set off at a walking pace even a runner
might have found troubling.
Maggie found herself struggling to keep her guide in sight. "Come
on," she muttered under her breath, "you can do it,
Maggie." She had been simply trying to keep her spirits up, but
at these words, she found herself catching up to Madame Balam
steadily.
And now they were in a part of the forest that had no sunlight
whatsoever. Not a single ray made its way down through the boughs.
All here was pitch darkness – save a flickering green light, here
and there. As they approached the first of these lights, she could
see they were flames, burning on seemingly no fuel, in small granite
bowls, set atop shoulder-high spurs of...something, something Maggie
could not see, for the light from the bowl was blocked by the bowl
itself. Maggie felt beneath the bowl, her fingers tracing over a
stone that was cool and smooth. She looked up at the darkness, at
another flickering green light in the distance. "I’ve been in
a place kind of like this. Inverse color scheme, but same basic idea.
Are we...even in the world now? Are we in some kind of limbo?"
Madame Balam laughed. "How did you come up with that one?
It’s just dark, Maggie. Well, dark for you." She sidled around
to the other side of the green flame, so that Maggie could see her
vast pupils shining red, which shrank to tall ovals as she stared
into the fire. "Well. Dark for you, anyway."
"So what?" said Maggie. "Are we supposed to follow
each shrine to the next, and then we’ll eventually reach the
center? That feels like terrible security. Hi enemy army, the secret
fortress is this way!"
"They’re supposed to be traps that lure people into thorn
bushes if they take the direct route," growled Madame Balam.
"But somebody just screwed up that plan, so among other things I
have to find Benigno and tell him his army needs to be on high alert,
and I can’t move as fast as I’m used to when the sunlight through
the trees keeps screwing up my dark vision."
"Benigno?" said Maggie. "He’s here already?
Instead of guarding our people?"
"Our?" said Madame Balam. "You have adopted them,
as readily as Mojito adopted you? Hm. See if they accept it. You’ve
caused quite a bit of trouble for everyone today with your careless
words."
"I am not doubting your judgment," murmured Maggie.
At long last, a great green flame appeared in the distance,
greater than any Maggie had yet seen. "Please tell me that’s
our actual target and not a fake?"
"The path to Mother is safe," said
Madame Balam, "if you stick close behind me and take not a
single step off the path. Come." She started forward, and Maggie
stepped right behind her, keeping a hand upon her shoulder.
And then her foot slipped on something wet, and she stepped to the
right – only to have her foot swiftly engulfed by something slimy,
and then her calf, and then her knee, and it was only her grip on her
guide’s shoulder that prevented her from sinking any further.
But Madame Balam startled and whirled around, throwing off Maggie’s grip, and
Maggie fell sideways.
In no more than a moment she had sunk beneath whatever muck this
was, and it pulled at her, tugged her down, demanded her body for
itself, covered her face, closed her mouth – Maggie could not speak
to save herself. She could only wonder how far down the slime would
take her, or if, indeed, there was any bottom at all. It could very
well have been that the author had not even considered that matter –
but then, if this was, indeed, a matter of fiction, and Maggie was,
indeed, the main character, then it stood to reason that she would
not die from this.
She would only be taken away from Alejandra, whether to fight back
to her side or forever lost, and who knew what would happen to the
woman then? It was this more than anything that Maggie feared most,
that a beautiful and valiant woman such as Alejandra had only been
her companion for a little while. And poor Mojito, the clever child,
would have his heart broken at the beginning of his new life, gaining
a mother and then losing her on the same day.
And something firm was wrapping around her now, a firm limb,
pulling her hard – perhaps down further? Another firm limb, pulling
her harder, and now she was slowly moving in one direction. Probably
down further, to whatever waited, if her direction was indeed down –
she had already forgotten which direction was down and which was up.
Something must be awaiting her, wherever it was taking her – some
creature. But it hardly mattered, she was lost, was she not? Two more
firm limbs wrapped around her, and she began to move just a bit
faster through the slime. So she was indeed lost, and –
– and if she was indeed the main character, she could fight her
way back to Alejandra’s side. Would that not then be the story?
Would that not be a proper purpose for her?
All at once she was hauled hard in one direction, and cool air
washed over her. The rush of it over her soaked skin caused her to
shiver. She was free of the slime – still
wrapped tight by something – She realized with a start that it was
Alejandra, arms around her, heedless of the slime covering her. "I’m
fine," gasped Maggie. "I’m fine, I’m dry, you’re dry,
we’re all alright." All at once the chill lessened and the
slime covering her vanished.
"I’m somewhat less than alright," said Alejandra into
Maggie’s shoulder, and hugged her even tighter. "You nearly
caused me a heart attack. Don’t get so flipping far ahead next
time."
"Permit me to breathe," gasped Maggie. Alejandra
released her, letting air fill her lungs properly again. "Whoof!
Call that sufficient punishment for my foolishness. How did you reach
me so quickly?"
"I have my ways," said Madame Balam.
"You should have waited for us to catch up," said
Mojito. "Trying to lead a newbie over the Bog of Despair without
anyone besides you to fish them out never goes well."
"Can we just get to Mother Marquez already?" said
Alejandra.
Madame Balam took Maggie’s hand. "Human chain, come on. Not
losing anyone this time."
Their journey in the darkness was not even a straight line as
Maggie had hoped. Many times Madame Balam took a sudden turn, and it
was only by the powerful grip of Alejandra or Madame Balam that
Maggie was prevented from pitching over into the slime again. Turn
and turn and turn they made, and little by little, the green flame
drew closer –
Until, at last, they were all there, standing on dry ground,
before a great green bonfire burning in a great granite bowl, set
atop a dark stone twice as tall as Maggie herself. And in the light
of the flame, there were fourteen robed silhouettes, standing at
attention, one standing before the rest.
"Greetings," intoned the silhouette standing closest,
and it was the voice of Mother Marquez. "Welcome, Maggie Noyr,
to our refuge, our shrine, our holy space, free from the prying eyes
of Los Ojos, where we may worship in secluded safety. Welcome to our
coven, our convent, our congregation. Welcome to the place where you
will be judged fairly."
Maggie gulped. "Judged? For...what?"
"For your actions," said another silhouette, and it was
the voice of Sister Sangrita.
"For your character," said another silhouette, and it
was the voice of Sister Michelada.
"For your restraint," said another silhouette, and it
was the voice of Sister Batida.
"Or your lack thereof," said every silhouette.
"You are vastly powerful," said Mother Marquez. "You
have limitless creation at your disposal, if you would wield it. You
can make whatever you can name, and re-make whatever you can see. We
find your potential...intriguing. We would have you on our side."
"Or disposed of?" said Maggie. "But you have no
true power to dispose of me, sisters. It is not within your
capacity."
"Perhaps not," said Sister Michelada.
"Perhaps all we can do is resist," said Sister Sangrita.
"And yet," said Sister Batida, "She whom we worship
does have authority over you."
Maggie snorted. "Yeah? You worship Mother Marquez? That’s
who ‘Mother’ is, right?"
There was a soft rumble, and the earth shook gently, causing
Maggie to stumble. She wound up on her knees. She stared up at the
silhouettes – and then at the dark shadows cast by the great
granite bowl. What that great stone actually looked like, she could
not say. But she had a suspicion that it was of the very same
material as the stones beneath the smaller flames from before, and
that it was all black marble with gold veins running through it.
For a split second, two great tapered ovals, glowing bright white, appeared in the darkness. Then they vanished.
"She’s getting involved," grumbled Mojito.
Maggie knelt there for another second, still stunned by what she
had seen – but ultimately it didn’t seem out of the ordinary for
what had been, thus far, one wild first day. She sprang back to her
feet. "Involved for what? What kind of side are you on? What are
you asking me to do?"
"That which you have been asked to do," said Mother
Marquez. "Only, we would determine if you are safe to work with
closely, or if we ought to pursue similar goals while keeping you at
a great distance. Your actions thus far today have...been impressive,
let us say."
"The shade was quite nice," said Sister Michelada.
"You put a spring in old Abuela Manuela’s step," said
Sister Batida.
"No idea who that is," said Mojito.
"You erased someone," said Sister Sangrita.
"Reckless," said a new silhouette, and this time it was
the voice Sister Pulque.
"Dangerous," said a new silhouette, and this time it was
the voice of Sister Margarita.
"Shouldn’t have even invited her here," said a new
silhouette, and this time it was the voice of Sister Piscola.
"Can we have enough of the cryptic mystical cult crap?"
said Alejandra. "Maggie came here to get some freaking questions
answered. Mother Marquez, what is your actual personal name?"
But before Mother Marquez could answer, Benigno appeared in the
light of the great green flame. "Trouble," he said, without
waiting for greeting. "My scouts have reported the police are on
their way to this clearing." As if on cue, there came the
panicked shouts of men from far off, as if they were falling into
something.
Maggie turned her head to look out at the darkness, and saw many
beams of light waving this way and that, as if from flashlights. In
brief glimpses she saw men attempting to drag their companions back
onto the path, without much success. "Let us not have anyone
come to harm here. I declare that all the police officers are on dry
ground."
In an instant, there was a great crowd of green-uniformed men
standing at the edge of the clearing.
"Hands up," said one of the officers. "You’re all
under arrest."