The being approaches. Heavy-robed sleeves rise up along either side of the hood, unseen hands pulling it back and away, revealing the face—Mick’s eyes widen in disbelief. The muscles in his legs turn to gelatin. He drops to his knees, the intensity of his emotions drowning any thoughts from his overwrought mind.

Maria Gabriel looks down at her son and smiles.

She is young again, a ravishing woman in her early thirties. The cancer is gone, the paleness of death replaced by a healthy glow. Wavy dark curls dangle around her neck, her ebony eyes gazing at his with a mother’s love. “Michael.”

“No … you can’t … you can’t possibly be real.” He chokes out the words.

She touches his cheek. “But I am real, Michael. And I’ve missed you so much.”

“God, I’ve missed you, too.” He grips her hand, looking up at her face. “Mom … how?”

“There’s so much you don’t understand. Our purpose in life, the metamorphosis of dying—each a process, allowing us to shed our physical bonds so that we may evolve and enter a higher plane.”

“But why are you here? What is this place?”

“A nexus, a living portal connecting one world to another. I’ve been sent to guide you, Michael. You’ve been misled, my darling, deceived by the Guardian. Everything they told you were lies. The opening of the portal is the Second Coming. It is the Guardian who is evil. The spirit of Xibalba is moving across the cosmos. It will pass over the Earth, bringing peace and love to humanity. This is humanity’s destiny, my son … and yours.”

“I … I don’t understand.”

She smiles at him, brushing the hair from his forehead. “You are One Hunahpu—First-Father. You are to be the guide, the conduit between the flesh and the other world.”

Maria raises her arm gracefully, pointing to the end of the ball court. Another figure appears from the serpent’s mouth, this one cloaked in white. “See? First-Mother awaits.”

Mick’s mouth drops open. It is Dominique!

His mother stops him. “Wait. Be gentle, Michael. She’s confused, she is still in a state of flux.”

“What do you mean?”

Maria turns and takes Dominique’s hand. The girl’s eyes are wide and as innocent as a lamb’s, her beauty absolutely bewitching. “She couldn’t bear to live without you.”

“She’s dead?”

“Suicide.” Mick gasps as his mother gently pulls the strands of black hair away from Dominique’s right temple, revealing an oozing bullet hole.

“Oh, God—”

As he watches, the wound heals itself.

“Her destiny is entwined in yours. She is to be the Eve to your Adam. It is your spirits that will foster a new age on Earth, a new understanding of the spiritual world.”