Life Blood---XXV---Page No 92

her and weighed the chances she could walk. Possibly. But I'd carry her if I had to.

"Sar, honey, we're going home now," I said, finally finding my
voice.

She didn't respond at first, just turned to caress the decorated sides of the platform. "I've been wanting to show you this, Morgy. It tells my story." Her voice sounded as if it were coming from a long way off, as though through a dense haze.

"Please, we don't have time for stories." Was she hearing me at all? "Let's just—"

"See," she went on, ignoring me as she pointed down, "that's
the Cosmic Monster, that one there with maize sprouting out of
his forehead. And that man next to him with a flint knife is my
father, letting blood from his penis. He's the king. And that one
there is me, Lady Jaguar. He gave my name to this place." She
paused to reverently touch the carved stone. "Look, I've just stuck
a stingray spine through my tongue and put my blood in the copal
censer there."

"Sar, please—"

"Here, see it?" She was pointing to a section at the very end. "That's the two-headed Vision Serpent up above me. He's the god Kukulkan . . . or something. I've made him come to me by giving him my blood. I'm—"

"Sar, what in heaven's name is going on with you?" I grabbed her and in spite of myself, shook her. Jesus! The whole scene left me in shock. She was sinking back deeper into her fantasy world. Was she taking the drug again, I wondered and fantasizing she was some dead Mayan princess? Please, God no.

That was when I saw Marcelina walk over to a shelf along the wall and lift down another clay-pot incense burner, along with a small white brick. What—?

"Oh, yes!" Sarah exclaimed moving quickly over to her. "Let's do it for Morgy."

Marcelina nodded warily and handed her the white brick, then turned to me. "She likes to do incense. It always calms her. This is copal, what the shamans use."

I watched while Sarah shakily began crumbling pieces of the
sticky substance into the pot. My God I thought, she's truly, truly
lost it. Next she inserted dry tinder and began trying to knock
sparks into it with a piece of hard black jade and a flint. But she
was too weak, and finally Marcelina had to take the flint and do it
for her. Then, as the gray smoke started billowing out, Marcelina

began a long chant, shrill and strangely melodic. I felt a chill creep down my back. When she finished she turned her dark eyes on me sadly, waiting.

"What were you saying?" I asked finally, sensing she wanted
me to.

"I was singing from the Popol Vuh." Then she translated.

Holy earth, giver of life,

Help us in our struggle against

The God of the House of Darkness.

Wait a minute. What's she saying?

"Who's the God of the House of Darkness?" Could she be talking about Alex Goddard?

"I didn't want to do it," she blurted out, reaching out to me, her
eyes even sadder. "But he said you're the new special one. We
had to."

What the hell was she talking about? Had to what? Did it have
something to do with my "visit" to the women in the hut?
        "Please stay here with us," she pleaded as she took my hand.
"Don't go."

Stay? Don't even think about it. I had Sarah halfway to

freedom. While the Army was still getting its act together, we

could lose ourselves someplace in the forest where nobody would find us, and when Steve got here tonight . . .

"Sar, come on, it's time." I pulled away from Marcelina and slipped my arm around her. "Nothing here is what you think it is."
        "Are we leaving?" she asked, her eyes blank.

"Yes, honey, we're leaving. This very minute."

The dense forest was all about us, and I'd just carry her into it if I had to. In the coming storm, nobody was going to find . . .
        That's when I noticed I was beginning to have gastric
rumblings. Damn. Never, ever eat "native" food, no matter what the social pressure. That damned "visit" . . .

When I turned to ask Marcelina if she would help me get
Sarah outside, I noticed she'd been joined by the two women,
both still in their white shifts, who'd just fed me the sickly
sweet atole. And more women were behind them, all staring at
me, expectant, as though wondering what I would do.
        Maybe it was my imagination, or the dizziness that was
abruptly growing around me, but it also seemed they'd painted