accident wasn’t his fault. The bridge was fine when we went out, and it wasn’t even that cold . . . but there was a slick spot at exactly the wrong place. The car spun out, went over the railing, and we ended up in the river. I must’ve blacked out for a minute, because I don’t remember going over or hitting the water. Everything cut out after we hit the pylon. Anyway, I woke up alone, headed downstream in the Beemer, saw the other guys in the water and started yelling for help.”
He described using the hockey stick to hit the horn, then the ensuing race between his rescuers and the water level in the car while he fought to free himself, nearly ripping his leg off in the process. “I blacked out again, and the next thing I remember is waking up, lying near a boat landing. Alone.” His voice was flat, his expression unreadable. “I was so fucking cold, and my leg hurt so bad, that I wanted to curl up right there and go to sleep. But I heard Wood’s voice in my head, telling me to get my ass up, that I was too damned important to die like that. So I busted a branch off a piece of deadfall to use as a crutch, and hauled myself up to the road, where I flagged down a car and got help.”
When he paused, Patience swallowed hard, trying to ease the tightness in her throat. “What about your friends?” she said, not letting herself ask the other questions that rattled around inside her. Questions like, Why is this the first time I’m hearing this story? And, What else aren’t you telling me?
“Searchers found their bodies a quarter mile further downstream. The pathologist said they both drowned, but even after dredgers found the car and hauled it back up, nobody could tell me whether they died getting me out.” He paused. “I think that’s what happened, though. They died saving me. And that creates a debt.” He spread his hands. “Woody had saved up to get me started after college, in grad school or whatever. We used the money to set up a scholarship instead, in their names. I talked to their parents, tried to apologize, but they wouldn’t let me take the blame. They just kept saying it was just a terrible accident.”
“Why . . .” Patience trailed off, not sure if it was the woman or the warrior asking, or if it mattered either way. This wasn’t about the two of them, even if it felt that way to her.
“Why didn’t I tell you the whole story before now?” He shook his head. “It just . . . I don’t know. Until last night, it wasn’t something I thought about, ever. Which, given the nahwal ’s message, makes me wonder whether I’m supposed to remember something about the accident, instead.”
Patience knew it was stupid to be hurt by the possibility that they might not need to remember the rest of their first night. “According to the nahwal , you need my help. If the Triad spell dropped you straight into the river vision, then that’s not what you need to remember.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Jade shot Patience a sympathetic look before she continued. “We don’t know how the nahwal communicate with each other. We have to assume that they do communicate, given that Patience’s nahwal relayed information from Brandt’s, but if you think about it, there wasn’t much time for them to confab. Maybe once Brandt’s nahwal merged with him, his ancestors realized that they could help him access the river memory directly, without needing your help.”
Brandt frowned. “But if my nahwal knew I couldn’t use the Triad magic, then the gods should’ve known about it too. So why the hell did Kinich Ahau pick me?”
“For the same reason it picked me first,” Rabbit said. He twirled a finger next to his ear, but his eyes were serious. “Maybe its brain—do gods have brains?—got screwed up while it was being held in that Xibalban pit. Maybe the Banol Kax implanted a mind-bend, programming it to screw us over when the opportunity presented.”
“Damn it, Rabbit, that’s—” Jox broke
He described using the hockey stick to hit the horn, then the ensuing race between his rescuers and the water level in the car while he fought to free himself, nearly ripping his leg off in the process. “I blacked out again, and the next thing I remember is waking up, lying near a boat landing. Alone.” His voice was flat, his expression unreadable. “I was so fucking cold, and my leg hurt so bad, that I wanted to curl up right there and go to sleep. But I heard Wood’s voice in my head, telling me to get my ass up, that I was too damned important to die like that. So I busted a branch off a piece of deadfall to use as a crutch, and hauled myself up to the road, where I flagged down a car and got help.”
When he paused, Patience swallowed hard, trying to ease the tightness in her throat. “What about your friends?” she said, not letting herself ask the other questions that rattled around inside her. Questions like, Why is this the first time I’m hearing this story? And, What else aren’t you telling me?
“Searchers found their bodies a quarter mile further downstream. The pathologist said they both drowned, but even after dredgers found the car and hauled it back up, nobody could tell me whether they died getting me out.” He paused. “I think that’s what happened, though. They died saving me. And that creates a debt.” He spread his hands. “Woody had saved up to get me started after college, in grad school or whatever. We used the money to set up a scholarship instead, in their names. I talked to their parents, tried to apologize, but they wouldn’t let me take the blame. They just kept saying it was just a terrible accident.”
“Why . . .” Patience trailed off, not sure if it was the woman or the warrior asking, or if it mattered either way. This wasn’t about the two of them, even if it felt that way to her.
“Why didn’t I tell you the whole story before now?” He shook his head. “It just . . . I don’t know. Until last night, it wasn’t something I thought about, ever. Which, given the nahwal ’s message, makes me wonder whether I’m supposed to remember something about the accident, instead.”
Patience knew it was stupid to be hurt by the possibility that they might not need to remember the rest of their first night. “According to the nahwal , you need my help. If the Triad spell dropped you straight into the river vision, then that’s not what you need to remember.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Jade shot Patience a sympathetic look before she continued. “We don’t know how the nahwal communicate with each other. We have to assume that they do communicate, given that Patience’s nahwal relayed information from Brandt’s, but if you think about it, there wasn’t much time for them to confab. Maybe once Brandt’s nahwal merged with him, his ancestors realized that they could help him access the river memory directly, without needing your help.”
Brandt frowned. “But if my nahwal knew I couldn’t use the Triad magic, then the gods should’ve known about it too. So why the hell did Kinich Ahau pick me?”
“For the same reason it picked me first,” Rabbit said. He twirled a finger next to his ear, but his eyes were serious. “Maybe its brain—do gods have brains?—got screwed up while it was being held in that Xibalban pit. Maybe the Banol Kax implanted a mind-bend, programming it to screw us over when the opportunity presented.”
“Damn it, Rabbit, that’s—” Jox broke
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