Xibalba

CHAPTER 20

Aside from a layer of gray ash and the lingering smell of smoke, nothing remained of the obstacle described in Maya lore as the River of Pus. Nevertheless, Maddock instructed the others to breathe through damp cloths and kept Bell on the SCUBA regulator as they ventured down the steps into the trough. The fire had burned quickly, consuming the dry fuel in a flash, without raising the temperature of the stone beneath, and what little heat it had created was already dissipating.

Maddock swept his boot across the ash layer at the base of the steps, revealing the first of several paw prints carved in the stone. The prints took a left turn at the base of the stairs and headed down the channel to the stairs leading up the other side. Those stairs brought them to a third stone platform, this one bordered with a row of elaborately carved columns, which unlike the ruins at Copán and Chichén Itzá, were in pristine condition, untouched by wind and weather. A line of paw prints, spaced just a few feet apart, led them between the columns and onto a balcony overlooking another vast subterranean chamber.

Bones shone his light down a wide staircase that descended into the dark unknown. “What’s next? River of Crap? Hey, why can’t there ever be something like a River of Dos Equis?”

Bell shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine, but if we’re descending again, I suspect it means that we’ve completed the preliminary tests.”

“So this is it?” Miranda said. “We’re entering Xibalba?”

Bell spread his hands in a gesture of ignorance, but his giddy expression told a different tale. But as they made their way down the steps, his enthusiasm ebbed.

“I’m not really sure what I was expecting,” Bones said as he swept his light across the floor of the chamber, “but I’m sure it was more… ” He shrugged. “Hellish?”

Instead of the Maya version of Dante’s Inferno, the only thing waiting for them at the bottom of the steps was a large courtyard. There were devils — or more precisely, demonic-looking Maya deities, but they too were carved of stone. Ten elaborately carved stelae, of a style even more dramatic than what Maddock had seen at Copán, each one at least ten feet tall, stood in pairs in a loose ring at the center of the courtyard.

“Watch where you step,” Maddock advised, searching the elaborately carved stone floor tiles for more paw prints, but finding none.

“The stelae,” Bell gasped, shuffling out across the plaza, seemingly heedless of Maddock’s warning. “They’re the Lords of Xibalba. Miranda, come here. You need to record all this.”

He moved around the circle stopping in front of a pair of twisted figures. “The Lords of Xibalba are always described in pairs. This is Xiquiripat — Flying Scab — and Cuchumaquic — Gathered Blood.”

Bones stared at the archaeologist in disbelief for a moment then shook his head. “And people make fun of American Indian names.”

“Most Maya deities are similar to those of other ancient people,” Bell went on. “Natural forces, storms, heavenly bodies, war and fertility and so forth, but the Lords of Xibalba seem to have been inspired by a different sort of deadly force: Disease.” He pointed to the other stelae couplings. “Ahalpuh — Pus Demon — and Ahalgana — Jaundice Demon — who cause people's bodies to swell up. There’s Chamiabac — Bone Staff — and Chamiaholom — Skull Staff — who turn dead bodies into skeletons. Ahalmez — Sweepings Demon — and Ahaltocob — Stabbing Demon — who hide in the unswept areas of people's houses and stab them to death. And Xic — Wing — and Patan — Packstrap — who cause people to die coughing up blood while out walking on a road.”

“Those are oddly specific descriptions,” Maddock observed.

Bell nodded. “It has been suggested that perhaps these deity-pairs represent the very disease outbreaks that decimated the Maya at the end of the Classical period.”

“But this place predates that cataclysm, right?”

“By at least a couple centuries, I should think.”

“So the Maya knew about these diseases before they were wiped out. They even built this temple.”

Bell inclined his head, confirming Maddock’s train of thought.

Bones, who had been following the exchange, spoke. “You’re on to something, Maddock. Spit it out.”

Maddock took a moment to organize his thoughts. “The ancients built temples and made sacrifices to their gods as a way of trying to control the natural world. What if the Maya were trying to control this disease?”

“You mean like a… ” Miranda shook her head as if the very thought was troubling. “A bio-weapon?”

“Exactly. And maybe it got away from them.”

Bell nodded again. “I think that’s exactly what happened.”

“The guy we caught at Chichén Itzá said that the Serpent Brothers were trying to protect the world from the Shadow. ‘The Shadow must remain hidden or the world will die.’ That’s what he said.” Maddock was thinking out loud, but the pieces were falling into place faster than he could speak. “What if these Serpent Brothers aren’t the bad guys? What if they’re trying to stop this disease — the Shadow — from getting out again?”

Bones snapped his fingers. “The Maya apocalypse! Maybe the prophecy was a warning about another outbreak. Or a timeline. And the Serpent Brothers decided to call it off.”

Maddock shook his head. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but… ” He turned to Bell again. “You suspected this all along, didn’t you? That’s why Tam sent us in.”

Bell frowned as if this line of thinking disturbed him, but then returned a hesitant nod.

Angel now spoke up. “Do you think that fungus… the River of Pus… was the Shadow?”

Maddock had no answer. Neither did Bell.

“That’s good, right?” Angel went on. “It means we destroyed it.”

“Something tells me if it was that easy,” Maddock replied, “the Serpent Brothers would have already done it. There’s probably a lot more of that fungus around.”

“The Lords of Xibalba have always been associated with a literal Underworld,” Bell said. “The fungus probably came out of a cavern system somewhere near here. Maybe even under this temple.”

“We’ve already tempted fate once,” Maddock said. “Right now, we need to focus on finding a way out of here.”

“It may be too late for that,” Bell said. “I told you, we’re on a pilgrimage.”

Bones gave a snort of disgust. “So we have to go through hell to get out of here? Outstanding. You don’t think maybe you could have mentioned Rivers of Pus and Jaundice demons before we started this one-way trip?”

Bell gave a helpless shrug.

“I’m sure there’s a way out of here that doesn’t involve going deeper,” Maddock said. “Start looking around.”

He was trying to remain optimistic despite sharing Bones’ grim assessment, but it nevertheless came as a real surprise when, after just a few minutes, they found another staircase on the far side of the chamber, leading up, not down.

Maddock remained wary, half-expecting another trial or for the steps to reverse direction, but the stairs kept rising until, some fifteen minutes after departing the chamber with the statues of the Lords of Xibalba, Maddock felt fresh air on his face. Not long after that, they came to a partially overgrown opening, and emerged into the relatively open air of a Guatemalan jungle night.

Only Charles Bell seemed disappointed.