It was only now that Nick was here, that Charlie felt he could leave Johnnie. So, on the evening that Nick arrived, Charlie left the Hall of a Thousand Columns and went to the forge. The king was out, making Mikey perform transformations for the king’s closest personal flatterers, which included the luchador, so no one was guarding the statue. Charlie thought he was alone. He had no idea that he had been followed.

He walked closer to the statue, skillfully crafted from the thousands of coins collected from the souls of Chichén Itzá, and the coins taken from the bucket. The statue looked like King Yax K’uk Mo’ but that was just a clever lie. No amount of disguise could hide the truth from Charlie. You could melt the coins down, pound them out, and make them look like some king’s face, but it didn’t change what they were. They were the way out.

“Charlie . . . ?”

He turned, surprised to see Nick standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Nick asked.

Charlie found that he had no words to explain all he was thinking and feeling, so instead he began to sing.

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind . . .”

Then before he could change his mind or be pulled away, he reached out his hand . . .

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and days of auld lang syne . . .”

. . . and he touched the statue.

“Charlie, no!”

But the deed was done. A coin-size piece of the statue vanished, and a tunnel appeared before him with a light at its end, both bright and warm. Suddenly all the memories that had been lost to Charlie came back to him.

Something was talking in his head now too—not a voice, but a feeling. It was something he knew he was meant to share, but his mind was so full of memories of the life he had lived, it was hard to make room for the words that were fuzzily forming in his head. Still, he tried to get them out as best as he could, because he knew he didn’t have much time.

“Fat Alamo . . . the Trinity . . . Ground Zero . . .”

“Charlie?”

“Hey, that’s right! Charlie really is my name! How about that?”

Then he shot down the tunnel into the light and got where he was going.

CHAPTER 45
Mikey, the God

There was only so much Mikey could take, so many petty transformation requests from the king and his flatterers that he could stomach. He had once told Clarence that he was not a circus monkey, yet this was his role in the court of King Yax, and although the king promised no leash, he might as well have been on one. Jix had told him to have patience, but that had never been, nor would it ever be, one of Mikey McGill’s virtues.