Cult of Kukulkan
Chapter 3: The City in the Mist

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Will Zimmerman threw a handful of dirt and leaves down in disgust as he knelt, surveying the area he knew Magnus and Druitt had been at last. When they hadn't returned, Kate and he had gone looking for them, their efforts hampered by the darkness and the fog.

Will stood up, his eyes and flashlight scanning the scene, pointing out the obvious to Kate. "We've got tracks leading to this spot, Magnus' gun, Druitt's machete, half a dead snake, blood, which may or may not be theirs, scuffle marks, but absolutely no footprints leading away from here. It's like they came here and vanished."

Kate walked up to Will, arms crossed, looking at the same area he was and finding nothing different. She knew he was frustrated and worried. She was too.

"It'll be light soon. Maybe we'll find something we missed then?" she offered sympathetically.

"Maybe," Will replied, trying to sound more optimistic than he was.

Someone or something had taken Magnus and Druitt, he was sure of it, and whatever it was didn't want them to be found.

Helen Magnus woke up with her head throbbing and her eyes blurry, trying to recollect what the hell had happened.

"John!" she exclaimed, leaping out of bed, making her head pound even harder.

Bed? She looked around her. She was lying on a feathered mattress atop a wooden frame covered with a soft and brightly colored weave in a room made of stone. The open windows, draped with fine woven netting, let in a cool breeze that permeated the chamber. An intricately carved rosewood table with two chairs, both adorned with bright paint and designs, rested in the corner with a vase of dried flowers. Murals depicting what appeared to be traditional Mayan ceremonies and scenes of Mayan life decorated the limestone walls. By her bedside was a small standing table, exquisitely carved and painted. Atop it was a terra cotta pitcher full of water, a cup, and a woven basket filled with various fruit and bread. At the base of her bed sat a chamber pot.

If this was a cell, it was one of the nicest she'd ever been in.

The scent of tropical flowers and oils suddenly pervaded her senses. She tugged on a strand of her dark, wavy hair and inhaled. It was damp, as was her skin. She'd bathed or had been bathed. Magnus looked down at herself and realized she was no longer in her own clothes but in an elongated huipil, a kind of traditional Mayan blouse. It was white cotton with colorful pink and blue brocaded designs framing the neck and collar. Mayan symbols, some of which she recognized, some which she did not, covered it. A simple flowing cotton skirt, also white, draped her legs.

Visions of her flight through the forest gradually returned. She had been chasing something through the jungle, crashed into John, they'd argued, then….She shivered, remembering their frenzied lovemaking. Distracted, neither had noticed the venomous snake in the leaf litter at their feet until it was too late.

John…

She had been about to tell him it was over. After more than a century of desire, turmoil, and loss, she was ending it, tired of the constant suffering their relationship had brought her. But then he had held her tightly, kissed her, and had whispered two simple words that undid her.

"I'm sorry."

It was unexpected and confusing. Everything she had planned on saying, rehearsed in her head should she see John Druitt again, dissolved into nothing when he held her and softly spoke his simple but heartfelt apology in her ear. Before she could even begin to formulate a response, it had happened. His body jerked and his eyes stared at her in utter shock as he called out her name. The blood drained from his face, and he fell backwards, the serpent with him. By time she had lunged for the machete and killed the snake, the damage had been done. John had been injected with a powerful venom, high on his body, close to his heart. She dropped to his side to help him, to see if he could teleport them away to get help, but then her world had gone black.

Someone or something had taken her.

If he didn't receive treatment, an antivenin, he'd be dead within hours. And hours had certainly passed.

"John…" she found herself saying out loud to no one but herself.

Magnus closed her eyes, on the verge of tears. The thought of never seeing John Druitt again was one thing, something she had lived with most of her life. It had been the rule, rather than the exception, of their existence. But the thought that he was dead, truly dead, felt like a crushing blow to her chest, making it impossible to breathe.

The simple truth of it was she would always be in love with him. Despite the heartache, the loss, the cruelty, there had been passion, and happiness, and joy between them. She would suffer through it all again just to have him back.

Part of her wanted to just lie there in this strange place, close her eyes, and mourn the loss of her lover. But the stronger part, the part that always prevailed in the worst of circumstances knew that the time for mourning would be later. Right now, she needed to determine where she was, where the rest of her team was, and what all of this could possibly mean.

Magnus took a deep, cleansing breath, opened her eyes, and walked to the window. She pulled back the sheer weave, gazed out, and stood speechless at the scene before her.

In front of her lay an entire Mayan city…a pyramid in the center surrounded by temples, plazas, public buildings, and homes all connected by brilliant white walkways and bustling with people in traditional Mayan clothes. The buildings and pyramids were covered with white stucco and elaborate murals that made them gleam in the sparkling sunshine that opened up over the valley below. In the distance she saw crops growing along the hillsides with workers diligently toiling away.

"Welcome to Kahalk'íin."

Magnus turned at the sound of the lilting, male voice. Behind her stood three men, two Mayans, obviously guards, dressed as though they had stepped out of the murals adorning the city. They flanked an extremely tall, anglo man with long silver hair, though he couldn't have been more than 35 or 40, piercing grey eyes, and a handsome angular face. He was dressed in a shimmering white robe embroidered with golden symbols and wrapped in a flowing feathered cape. He smiled warmly at Magnus and spoke in English.

"I am Kukulkan."

"You speak English?" Magnus asked. For some reason of all the questions racing through her mind, that one seemed the most pressing.

"I speak many languages," he answered and moved toward her. His guards moved with him but he held his hand out to stay them, and they dropped back. He walked up to Magnus and stood by her side looking out through the window, nodding toward the buildings and people below.

"What do you think of my city?" he asked proudly.

She followed his gaze.

"Amazing," Magnus answered honestly. Looking out at the sprawling metropolis was like looking back in time. "Utterly amazing. Place of the Sun?" she asked.

He turned and smiled at her. "Yes, Kahalk'íin, Place of the Sun. You speak Mayan?"

"Yes."

Kukulkan eyed her approvingly. "I assume you have questions?"

"Thousands," Magnus remarked, crossing her arms and turning towards him. "Why you kidnapped me being the foremost."

The ancient king shook his head ruefully. "I apologize for the way my guards brought you here. They are not always…what is your word? Subtle. They protect our city fiercely. However, you are not a prisoner here, Helen. You are my guest."

She tilted her head and looked at him. "You know my name?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"We've been watching you since your party entered the lakeshore. You were searching for me. You are their leader. I wanted to speak with you."

"There are more polite ways to get my attention," Magnus suggested sarcastically.

Kukulkan laughed. "Agreed. But the secret of our city is one we guard closely. Very few outsiders have ever entered here. Please forgive our abruptness," he said, washing his eyes over her. He lifted his hand and lightly stroked her hair. Magnus pulled back out of reflex, and he dropped his hand to his side. "Please eat, wash yourself," he smiled again, pointing toward the basket of fruit and bread and wash basin. "I would like to show you Kahalk'íin and answer the thousands of questions you say that you have."

He turned to leave, but Magnus stopped him with a touch to his arm.

"What about the others? I came here with two men and a woman. One of them was badly injured. Are they alright? Are they here?" she asked anxiously.

"Will and Kate? They are fine, but they are not here. They are still looking for you. We are watching them. They are unharmed."

She paused and swallowed deeply, her heart beating so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. Was it possible? Could he still be alive? "And the man I was with when you took me? He'd been bitten by a snake…"

"John," Kukulkan answered flatly. His expression turned grim. Magnus' found herself unconsciously moving toward the table, gripping the top of the chair, her knuckles white.

Kukulkan walked back to her and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder.

"We did everything we could for him," he said softly. After a beat he added, "I'll leave one of my servants outside your door. When you're ready, he'll escort you to my chambers."

With that, the king left with his guards following behind.

Magnus stood there, still gripping the chair, steadying herself.

John was dead?

It didn't seem possible. After everything they had gone through, everything they had suffered, to be killed by a snake in the jungles of Guatemala? It was like an insane joke that made her want to laugh out loud.

Magnus closed her eyes, fighting off tears once more. She pulled the chair out and sat on it before she fell down, nausea and dizziness overtaking her. She dropped her head between her knees, breathing deep, trying not to pass out from the shock of it. She couldn't deal with this now, there wasn't time. She had to bury this, set it aside until later. She stood in a city that shouldn't exist with a man who shouldn't be alive. Will and Kate were God knows where, and she needed to find them. And John was…Damn him! Damn him to bloody hell for leaving her again!

Anger. That was it. If she could focus on the anger, she could keep herself from falling apart.

She needed to find out what was going on here. She may not be a prisoner, but Kukulkan wanted something from her, and she doubted he would let her go until he got it.

Magnus spent the day with the king touring the city. She took her thoughts of John, her emotions, and tucked them neatly away in a corner of her mind. She'd take them out and examine them later when there was time. Right now, all her energy needed to be focused on the wonder before her and its meaning. Every building they entered, every corner they turned was a masterwork of ancient Mayan architecture, except for the fact that none of it should exist, none of it was ancient. It was all new and vibrant and very much alive.

At the city's center stood a pyramid, used as a center for scientific observation and knowledge. Public buildings surrounded it, administrative centers for governance, law, and records. Ball courts and plazas covered with flowers and elaborately maintained gardens were interspersed throughout the streets. The people Magnus observed appeared happy and well cared for. The city was orderly.

But while Kukulkan was content to explain the workings of the Kahalk'íin, the purpose and construction of each building, how food was cultivated and stored, how laws were made and administered, and how the populace lived and spent their time, he avoided any question of who he was and why this place existed.

"In due time," he told her with a secretive, beautiful smile…"In due time."

It was evening by time they returned to the palace and Kukulkan's private residence. She was to have dinner with him alone, and he had promised he would answer her most pressing question of all.

Who was he?

Before dinner, Magnus washed and changed. Kukulkan had provided her with an assortment of clothes and a servant who she thanked kindly but dismissed. She chose a purple cotton dress while she reflected on her day. The city was truly beyond words. She had always been proud of her work with creatures that gave rise to ancient myths, but Kukulkan's realm was myth come to life. Who knew who or what actually dwelled here? She had no doubt that the king was an abnormal of some sort. Could the rest of his people be as well?

Even if they were, Magnus was most interested in Kukulkan himself. She had never met an abnormal quite like him. He looked healthy, young, and fit, but the way he carried himself, the gravitas he held, was captivating. She could sense the years of wisdom and knowledge he possessed and the scientist inside her yearned to tap into it.

When she finished dressing, she allowed herself to be led to the king's private quarters by one of his personal guards, a short but hulking man with a feathered headdress and red and black painted face. Inside the king's vast chambers were elaborately cut stone columns, colored murals of native birds and animals, wooden benches and chairs with orange and red woven cushions, and intricate rugs that decorated both the floors and walls.

Kukulkan greeted Magnus and dismissed the guard. He was dressed in a light blue robe with silver embroidery that opened at the top revealing his bare, muscular chest. He led her to a smaller, more intimate room behind the main foyer. It opened up to a veranda that overlooked the city, lit by glowing torches in the dimming light. The sky was clear, the moon full, and the white roadways and buildings sparkled under its silver hue. Inside the room a table had been prepared, topped with baskets of fruits, nuts, meats, and breads. It stood low to the ground and was surrounded by long, woven cushions. They would recline while they ate.

Kukulkan offered Magnus his hand and she took it as he helped her down to the floor. He lay across from her, his long legs stretched out before him, his head propped up on his elbow, resting on his side. He gazed at Magnus with his grey, melancholy, eyes. His hair was long, almost to his waist, and silver. She once again wondered at the paradox of the silver hair framing his young face. The light from the moon outside and the torches and candles surrounding them shimmered across the strands.

"When in Rome…" Magnus thought, and followed his lead, reclining on her side as well. She watched as Kukulkan followed her movements, his eyes washing over the swelling of her breasts, her hips, the curve of her waist. She tensed and he dropped his gaze, sensing her discomfort.

"Please," he said, waving a hand over the table. "Eat."

Magnus reached out and took what looked like a pecan and tasted it. It was dipped in honey and spice. It was delicious. The king smiled.

"You like it?" he asked.

"I do," she smiled back, gauging the situation and deciding to proceed slowly.

They ate in silence for a time. After a while, Kukulkan began to question Magnus. Where she was from, why she was here, what she wanted. She answered him carefully but honestly and refrained from asking him a thing. Her strategy was to let him set the pace. He would tell her what she wanted to know when he was ready.

After a time he smiled at her. "You've been very patient with me, Helen."

"Have I?" she responded vaguely.

He sat up and dipped his fingers in a water dish, drying them on a cotton cloth. He looked at her serenely, took an empty cup, and poured a red liquid into it.

"Drink…" he said, handing it to her.

Helen sat up and eyed him cautiously.

"It's wine." He answered her, reading her face.

She took it and slowly sipped. It was sweet and strong. He nodded and poured himself a glass as well.

Magnus tilted her head and stared at him, unable to hold back her curiosity any longer. "Who are you?" she finally asked.

He gazed at her calmly, took in a deep breath, and sighed. "Before I came to this place, my name was Amitesh," he started.

"Before you came here?" Magnus probed. "When was that?"

He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. "More than a thousand years ago."

Magnus shook her head in amazement. "You aren't human." It was a statement of the obvious rather than a question, something she had known since she'd met him.

"Not in the way you think of it, no. I am from a race of immortals, all of which have now passed on except for me, or so I thought" he said eyeing her strangely. "We were exiled from our country during the Great War. We believed humans could be educated, taught to live as we, to rule themselves as we did. We believed they shouldn't be kept as slaves."

Helen's eyes widened with understanding. "You're a vampire."

"Some have called me that, yes."

She nodded her head. "That explains a great deal…the serpent image of Kukulkan…the blood sacrifices….But how did your kind end up here in the New World?"

He inhaled deeply and sighed. "After the war, we left our home in the mountains and came to an island we called Saka Dwipa. We lived there in peace for many years, until tragedy befell us."

Magnus recognized the name immediately. "Saka Dwipa, those are Sanskrit words for what Plato called…"

"Atlantis. Yes." Amitesh/Kukulkan nodded.

"Dear God!" she said, amazed. "It was real?" She'd never believed the stories of Atlantis before. But a war between the vampires…the descriptions of those who lived there, fair skinned, immortal, wise beyond words. There was some sense in it.

Amitesh nodded. "Yes, until an earthquake destroyed our island and most of my people with it. A few of us were lucky enough to escape the devastation. We travelled here and made a new life."

"Kulkukan brought law, agriculture, civilization to the Mayan people…" Magnus recited the legend. "You really did, didn't you?"

"At first, yes, we did," Amitesh replied. "Then…things changed. We changed," he said forlornly. "The natives viewed us as gods, and some of us, many of us, took advantage of that belief. We killed the humans and ourselves fighting for control, just like those of our kind we had once railed against. Now only I remain…or so I thought." He gazed at her, a look of hopefulness in his eyes.

She hadn't missed the look he'd given her, the furtive glances he'd sent her way since her arrival, or the insinuations that she had something that he desperately wanted.

"What do you want from me?" Magnus asked him directly.

Amitesh leaned in, edging closer.

"When I saw you enter our valley, I sensed that you were…different from other humans. I sensed…," he paused. "Helen, you are an immortal."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.

"Not like you," she corrected him quickly. "I'm not a vampire, I am…" she paused. What was she? Sometimes she wasn't sure herself. "I haven't aged in over a century, it's true."

Amitesh moved closer to her, sitting by her side now. He reached his hand out and held hers. She didn't pull away.

"Then you know what it is like to be alone forever. To watch everyone you know and love die around you, while you have no choice but to continue on," he said sadly, his grey eyes piercing her blue.

Magnus nodded, speechless, thoughts of her most recent loss, John, threatening to overwhelm her. She did indeed know loneliness. She knew it all too well.

"I've been alone for so long now…centuries," he paused. "The man you came here with, John? He was your lover?"

Magnus swallowed hard, the wine was starting to have an effect on her. She was feeling light headed, a little drunk, something that rarely happened.

"Yes," she answered Kukulkan, the tears suddenly rising again.

He moved closer to her, his lips only inches from hers now. His long, silver hair tickled her arm. "I have looked for centuries for one of my kind. Someone to be with that wouldn't ...leave," he said quietly, staring at her. "Helen, I believe you are that one."

She opened her mouth in shock. "I…I don't even know you."

He smiled at her. "But we are the same, you and I. We live forever. And those we love…die." He leaned in, hesitating just above her lips. "Don't you grow weary of it?"

It was a simple question with a simple answer. Yes, Dear God yes! Helen thought. She'd been weary of it for almost two centuries, and since Ashley…and now John….The thought of simply ending it had crossed her mind more than once.

She turned to answer him when he leaned in and kissed her, his soft silver hair falling across her face. She wanted to pull back, to stop this. My God, she'd just lost the man she'd loved for her entire life, what was she doing? But the dizzying effects of the wine, the comfort of being close to someone who understood her pain, her loneliness, and the surrealness of this place, this night, propelled her unapologetically forward. If she could lose herself in this, maybe she could forget….

Amitesh pulled back and looked at her, his hands stroking her hair, her cheek. "I want to taste you," he said. "I need to know that I am right, that you are...some manner of my kind."

Magnus looked at him confused, the wine making her heady, unfocused. "Taste me?" She thought he meant in a sexual way at first, but then she looked at his expression and understood.

"I won't hurt you Helen. I would never hurt you," he said, lightly pulling his fingers through her hair, gently caressing her neck, her collarbone. "But I need to know."

She barely knew this man. The only vampire she'd ever known was Nikola, and trust was not something she associated with him. But something about Amitesh was so sincere, so endearing, she found herself nodding, her desire to learn more about this man and his past responding before her mind could take hold and examine the consequences.

He took her hand in his and caressed it, fingering it lightly. Then he moved another hand to the back of her neck, pulling her close to him again. He kissed her once more, his taste sweet, like the wine they'd been drinking, like the rain forest surrounding them, pure and warm and scented with oils and flowers. He moved his lips to her face, trailing feather light kisses down her cheek, her ear lobe, her neck. She found herself shivering at his touch. A part of her brain screamed this was wrong, insane, a betrayal of everything she and John had had. Another part, the part that hated John for leaving her, reminded her that he was the one who had betrayed her when she had needed him most. And now, he was gone forever—The ultimate infidelity. There was no one else. No one who could understand her loneliness, comfort her, console her, except maybe…

"Are you ready, Helen?" Amitesh whispered into her ear, still caressing her hand. His words pulled her out of her introspection. She knew what he was about to do, and she shocked herself when she immediately nodded, almost imperceptibly, and softly said "Yes," in agreement. He drew back to look at her once more, his clear, stunning grey eyes trying to convey…what? Trust? Desire? She wasn't sure. He locked his left hand with her right and intertwined their fingers. Then, slowly, with his right he gently pulled back her long dark hair from her neck and stroked the soft, silky skin there.

Magnus felt her breathing speed up, her heart race.

"It'll only hurt for a brief moment, and then there will be no more pain. I promise, Helen, I will only take what I need and nothing more. I have been who I am for centuries. I have controlled my desires as long."

She had no reason to trust this man. But she found, oddly, that she didn't care. If he took her life, so be it. Part of her, the part mourning John and Ashley and all of those who had come and gone before her, wished that he would. It would be so easy to fall into that darkness right now, so many lifetime's worth, let it consume her in its fire.

She nodded her acquiescence once again, and Amitesh leaned forward, first licking her neck, kissing her lightly, sending shivers up and down her spine at his gentle touches, when suddenly, she felt his teeth sink into her and she gasped, her entire body tensing up. She gripped his hand tighter, her knuckles turning white from the pressure, when the pain suddenly subsided, and all she could feel was a gentle warmth and the quiet, almost sensual sounds of his lips moving against her neck.

Magnus awoke in the middle of the night in her own chamber, tucked into her bed, her dress removed, now in a light, cotton gown. She was groggy from wine and lack of blood. Amitesh had done as he had promised though. He had tasted just enough of her to know that she was like him—immortal. She had fallen unconscious sometime during their encounter. When she woke, he had placed her on his bed and covered her with a blanket to warm her. He made her eat and drink some water, to revive her and recover her strength. He let her rest there in his chamber, tending to her gently, almost reverently. No one but John had ever cared for her like that, and she couldn't deny the inexplicable charge she felt between them. When the king felt she was strong enough, he led her back to her chambers himself and asked her maid servant to help her change for the night.

He whispered into her ear before he left. "Thank you, Helen for tonight, for your trust." Then he stroked her cheek once more, smiled his sad but beautiful smile, and bid her goodnight.

He had asked her to stay. He would teach her everything he knew. Share all of the ancient knowledge with her of the vampires, of Atlantis, of his people. Knowledge that had been lost for eons. In return, he wanted nothing but her companionship. And if that companionship turned to love one day, well…

Magnus lay awake, staring up at the ceiling, the moonlight casting its silvery glow across her room, amazed at the fact that she was considering his offer.

Will was ready. He could take over the Sanctuary. The other heads of households were more than competent to assist him. She had no doubt her work would continue, and continue well under his leadership. The opportunity to stay here, to learn first-hand about the greatest race of immortals there ever was was undeniably tempting.

Perhaps most appealing of all, however, was the fact that she would do so with someone like herself, a man who would never age, never grow old, never die a natural death. The answer to her life's loneliness lay before her. She wasn't a person prone to making life-changing decisions in the blink of an eye, but something about this man, this place, made her yearn for change. She had worked her entire life to be taken seriously, to be respected. This man was offering that and more, instant and full acceptance. All she had to do now was take it.

Just then, Magnus heard a noise, a movement from the window. She looked to see a large, dark shape crawl through the opening and race to her bed. Before she could brace herself to attack, the figure held her down, covering her mouth with its hand to keep her from screaming.

"Helen! It's me!"

Her eyes flashed open. The figure eased its hand off of her mouth and she looked at him in the moonlight that streamed in now from the open window.

"John?"

He was alive.

(to be continued)