Ocela smiles at her, again palming her stomach.

‘No, stop it, none of this makes any sense. The Popol Vuh is just mythology, it tells of things in the past. How can I possibly be First-Mother?’

Elias translates for his grandfather.

The old man rattles off a response.

‘The knowledge found in the Popol Vuh comes to us from our great teacher, Kukulcán. The Popol Vuh was recorded five hundred years after his passing. Time distorts the Creation Story, but not its ultimate meaning. What came to pass shall come again as the cycle of humanity repeats itself. One Hunahpu has come. He has delivered us from evil, sacrificing himself in the process. Now he awaits his sons in Xibalba.’

Dominique’s hand trembles within Ocela’s. He pats it with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he speaks again.

‘My grandfather says to have faith. You were chosen by One Hunahpu for your strength.’

‘If Mick really is this One Hunahpu character, then where is he now? How can I find Xibalba?’

‘The dark road to Xibalba shall appear before the Hero Twins in their twentieth year. Until then, it is your destiny as First-Mother to prepare them. Great challenges lie ahead. Allies of the Dark Lord will do everything in their power to stop you.’

Ocela stands, leading her to the edge of the clearing and a massive cypress tree. Bound and gagged to the trunk is Luke Magierski. The soldier is wearing only his boxer shorts and a tee shirt.

Dominique removes his gag.

‘Uh, thank God. Would you tell these Zulus that I’m American!’

‘Why were you after me?’

‘You’re Dominique Vazquez, Michael Gabriel’s woman. Everyone wants to speak with you.’

‘He’s lying,’ says Elias. ‘Who hired you to find Dominique?’

Magierski stares into the jungle. ‘Name, rank, and serial number, that’s all you’ll get from me. The United States doesn’t like it when you kidnap their soldiers. There’s fifteen thousand heavily armed men and women less than a dozen klicks from here who’ll napalm this entire jungle into a prairie dust if any harm comes to me.’

Ocela signals to his elders. Two of the men force Magierski’s jaw open, while a third jams a small piece of bamboo between the soldier’s upper and lower molars, preventing him from closing his mouth.

The fourth man appears with a wooden container. From within, he retracts an eighteen-inch centipede, its thick jet-black body sporting a yellow head and legs.

Dominique steps back. ‘Gross. What is that thing?’

Elias takes the animal from the elder. ‘It’s long name is Scolopendromorpha, a tropical species that flourishes in our jungles. Some of the larger ones feed on mice and lizards.’

‘They get bigger than that?’