Daring Do and the Curse of Ahuizotl
"Curse you, Daring Do!" Ahuizotl roared, his breath hot on her ankles, as she skidded around a corner and sprang over a swipe from his meaty forearm.
Normally she would have had a cutting reply ready, hurling taunts over her shoulder as they sped through the collapsing temple. Not this time — not after what she'd discovered. They'd faced off many times over the fate of the world, but now it was personal.
Daring somersaulted over the gleaming points of a thrusting spear trap, hearing a sharp crack from behind her as Ahuizotl's massive bulk smashed straight through the wooden shafts. The ancient structure shuddered and rocked around them as she galloped full-tilt onward, the brick and cobweb of the Underworld Passage giving way to the cryptic murals and tiled floor of the Hall of Doom. Daring didn't even pause, carving a path through the red tiles, deliberately triggering row after row of dart-traps to unleash their barrages of steel.
She heard incoherent screeches of rage from behind her as the darts thudded into the thick skin of the monster in pursuit. For the first time since they'd locked eyes in the relic room, she allowed herself a tight smile — right as she noticed, in the corner of her vision, the base of a column buckling. The immense stone pillar teetered, and began its slow, arcing descent toward the exit.
Daring hurled herself at the half-jammed doorway, cursing under her breath, and dove into a roll, tucking her body protectively around the golden Fang of Tlaloc as she tumbled through the crawlspace. Almost immediately, she felt the warmth of the sun on her pelt, fresh mountain air in her lungs — and an iron grip around her pastern.
As she faceplanted, bucking and thrashing in a fruitless effort to dislodge Ahuizotl's hold, she felt herself skid backward. "Ha!" he cried, fingers digging into her leg as he hauled her back toward the collapsing ruin. She jammed a hoof into the doorway, straining for leverage, and stared back into the night-black pupils of his jaundiced eyes —
— right as the pillar came down.
The world was thunder and dust, weightless and hazy, for an endless moment. The roar of tumbling stone assaulted her ears. She couldn't breathe. Then there was a sick crunch, and the pressure around her pastern slackened. She kicked free, gasping and choking, and staggered to her hooves, cradling the Fang like a foal. She sagged against a wall, legs shaking, as the rumbling died away.
In the ensuing silence, she heard a sickly moan behind her. Daring turned to see a blue hand sticking out of a pile of rubble in the collapsed doorway.
Her face hardened.
It was him — though not much of him, only his head and a hand left unburied. He was breathing in shallow, gurgling gasps, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were … white? No, just milky with chalk-dust tears.
"Ahuizotl," she said quietly.
His pale chin — the blue seemingly drained out of it — lifted at the sound. "D-daring?" he whispered, voice thin.
"It's over for you … murderer."
His eyes widened. "No!" The rubble shifted as his quivering hand stretched forward another few inches — then convulsed and flopped limply to the side.
"I found his journal, you know. I know what you did." Daring took a trembling step forward, and glared down at the helpless figure.
"No," he repeated, voice quivering in fear for the first time she'd ever heard. His fingers twitched, then his hand lifted weakly toward her. "Relic …"
Unbelievable. Did he really think he could play on her sympathy to get her to hoof over a mysterious magical artifact — especially now? She snorted. "I don't think so. Goodbye."
"D-dar…" Ahuizotl started, then grimaced and inhaled a sharp, gurgling breath as his hand spasmed and lay still. "Curse —" His head, too, spasmed, and blood spattered the stones as a violent cough wracked him. "Yooouuu …" he exhaled, muzzle contorted in intense … fear? … as his last breath left him.
Daring Do stared at his still body for several long and silent minutes.
Finally, she spat in the dust by his unmoving head, readjusted her hat with a hoof, and turned and limped away.
"Horseapples," Professor Can Do, Sr., cursed, shouldering his bolt-thrower as he stared down at the corpse of three-days-missing Howard Carthorse.
Daring gasped. "Dad?"
Dr. Do ignored her. "What killed him?"
"DAD!" Daring screamed, but Dr. Do didn't respond. She glanced wildly around. Nopony else seemed to notice her, either. She tried to reach out a hoof and tap her father on the shoulder, but her body wouldn't move. Panicked, she looked down, only to see empty air.
Saltah reached down to the body with both forehooves, then sat up. "This," he said, lifting a bolt with Dr. Do's familiar white-and-blue fletching.
Dr. Do's face went grim. "Ahuizotl."
Daring froze at the name. She glanced around at the thick jungle, ice in her veins. Around her, the Brayzilian guides did too, stepping back into a tighter cluster, whispering fearfully.
"You could not have known, Doctor Do. It was just ill fortune — firing into the darkness —"
"No. I not only could have known there was some trick, I should have. Returning to our camp even though he'd already stolen the Eye of Tlaloc? Fleeing into the jungle the instant I found my weapon? Ahuizotl wanted me to fire, Saltah. He led Carthorse back to us. He planned this."
Dr. Do stepped forward and turned over Carthorse's corpse with a hoof. As if to mock them, Ahuizotl had left the Eye clutched in Carthorse's rigid embrace.
A gasp came up from the donkeys. They retreated, touching hooves to chests and muttering their superstitious prayers.
Daring stared at the artifact, light-headed. What was going on? Wait — the Eye of Tlaloc! No wonder this seemed so familiar; her father had described every moment of it in his lost journal.
Professor Do picked up the gold idol, carefully stowing it in his saddlebags. "I won't make the mistake again of letting it out of my reach for Ahuizotl to steal," Daring murmured, quoting the final entry. As if to punctuate the statement, Dr. Do nodded, then leaned down and hoofed Carthorse's eyelids closed.
Saltah glanced around, then stepped over to Dr. Do's side. "Professor," he murmured.
"Yes?"
"We should leave. Flee for home. The guides, they are saying that this is Tlaloc's curse, to destroy us one by one for desecrating his temple."
"Never," Dr. Do said. "There's no such thing as curses."
Then he turned to look directly at Daring, his eyes burning into her soul. "There is only Ahuizotl."
Daring sat up with a gasp.
Her heart thudding, her breath coming in pants, she glanced around the pitch-black jungle. Trees, vines, mossy boulders — but no motion. She forced herself to close her eyes, and swiveled her ears, straining for any sign of life.
He was out there, somewhere. Taunting her. Waiting. Where was he?
As panic receded, reality flooded back in. It had been a dream. Only a dream. She'd watched Ahuizotl die. He couldn't hurt her any more.
But the dream had been so real. So vivid …
She lay for a minute, listening as the first hesitant twitters of distant jungle-birds broke the unnatural silence. Her racing heart began to slow as the night-sounds returned.
Finally, she double-checked the Fang of Tlaloc. Still snuggled against her chest. Warm to the touch. So very beautiful.
Daring smiled, closed her eyes, curled her fingers around it, and fell back asleep.
