Chapter 5

"Well," I heard one of the two murmur from all the way across the room, "I guess that is where the red comes from."

I ignored the comment, more focused on examining the throne for damage. With an idle swipe of my hand, I pulled the barely connected bones of the now-deceased creature off the seat of the throne. They glinted slightly as they hit the water as if the bones were metal instead of bone, but they sank below the surface of the water all the same.

The throne itself had barely changed, the bat's head on top looking somehow diminished as if it had worn away, but a remnant still remained. Likewise, the engravings on the side remained if similarly diminished. Where before the throne nearly leaked with supernatural menace, now it seemed cleansed. Purer, if I could say so.

The fact that the creature had somehow recognized me as Kukulkan was also another matter to ponder. I was already suspicious that Kukulkan, who was arguably real, had somehow transported me through space, and possibly time, to Chichen Itza.

I also had a nagging suspicion that since the withered thing had thought I was Kukulkan that the purpose I had been transported here was for precisely what I did. I felt some stirring of self-mortification that my very first interaction with a verifiable non-human had ended in plain violence. However, I doubted I would lose any more sleep than I already had since based on the engravings, these things had been anything but nice upstanding members of a greater society.

I pondered the throne for a moment. I was half tempted to sit on it, but the Key of Chak Chel was still stuck in the seat. Furthermore, the spot where it had slipped into on the throne was kind of… unfortunate. That was all I was going to acknowledge its location. I wiggled the Key a little. There wasn't very much give. I pulled with a little more force, careful about the blade. I knew from experience that obsidian fractured easily. It was sharp, almost peerlessly so, but only in the direction of the blade, any other at it would snap with almost negligible ease. An action that would send razor-sharp splinter fragments into its surroundings.

I pressed it downwards, perhaps with a little more pressure, it would click free? My hand slipped off the gold hilt, just slightly grazing the surface of the knife. Probably should've taken a moment to wash the vampire blood from my hands. That momentary slip was enough to draw blood, however. Just further vindication for my inner monologue on the practicality of obsidian ritual knives.

How much more could my poor abused hands take? Lacerations and burns, oh my. A single bead of blood beaded on the edge of my finger, I flicked it off onto the throne. I stepped down and away from the throne, placing my bloody hands into the water. The blood seeped away, diffusing rapidly into the now nice and crystal clear pool.

I glanced up and back towards my two companions of circumstance. The younger appeared alert, watching me with slightly narrowed eyes. The elder looked like he had finally awoken and was just watching me suspiciously. Just the faintest traces of two dual emotions could be detected on their faces, fear, and awe. The elder was staring at the throne, mumbling softly to himself with a half-glazed look. The younger's face twitched at something the elder said and I returned most of my attention to the water.

I peeled the blood-soaked green upper mantle from my body, leaving me in the tattered remains of the grey top I had been wearing when my airplane had first crash-landed, back before the whole end of the world started. My lower half remained covered in the green and gold skirt, since I didn't really have any pants, and there was no way I was going to undress here.

I regarded the upper half for a long moment, it was absolutely drenched in blood, and I almost didn't want to take it with me. Of course, the problems I had with it was mainly the red tri-cross over the navel on the lower half, the emblem of Trinity.

I splashed into the water, careful to stay on the small pathway that the clear water had revealed. The blood on my lower half peeled away, similar to the way the blood had trailed from my hands. I scrunched up my face in distaste. No matter how pristine the water looked now, up to a few cosmic moments ago it had been a cesspool of blood and offal.

I swallowed that distaste, crushing it down, disgust was merely a state of mind, not an actual reality. I ducked my head and upper body under the water, crown and all. For a long moment, I just waited underwater with closed eyes, then I surfaced, letting the water carry away most of the blood. I suspected what I really needed was a change of clothes and a shower but a brief dunk would be enough to make me less of a walking health hazard.

The water squelched in my garments in a very unpleasant way which I had experienced plenty of times before. No matter how much this was going to chaff I was going to power through, just as I always have.

"You're not a Red Court," the elder seemed to state more for his benefit than mine, watching me with critical eyes. He pushed himself to his feet, I noted with slight envy how the gathered blood seemed to run down off his grey cloak.

"If you mean these…" I splashed through the water towards both of them, bending down a moment to pick up one of the inhuman skulls from the submerged pathway. Coincidentally, it was the skull of the one from the throne. Flecks of gold still lined the fangs. I lifted it free, holding it aloft.

"No, I'm not," I spoke considering the thing in front of me. It seemed evident based on the age and prominence of the throne that they had some kind of connection to the Mayan gods. Of Camazotz perhaps? The Mayans did have a bat deity associated with vampire things, night and death, but I don't think it really fit. Camazotz also gave birth to monstrous bat beasts...

That being said, one of Ix Chel's interpretations, the Aztec one, had her as a cannibalistic goddess but these things were clearly not serpent-like, and this was a Mayan temple.

"It's like Ix Chel and Camazotz had children, for a certain definition of children anyways," I muttered aloud, looking at the skull. Yes, it was even more disturbing up close. Were there little Mayan pictographs carved on each tooth?

I paused for a moment to push the skull into my pouch, it barely fit and I was immediately reminded of the Key of Chak Chel, back in the throne. I paused for barely half a second and then continued on. One-fourth of my major life problems had been caused by pulling it out in the first place, best to leave it where it wanted to be for now.

The older man seemed uncomfortable, hand grasping for his side, almost by instinct, seeking a blade that wasn't there. He must've lost it in the fall. He breathed in deeply, seeming to center himself, squinting against the light emanating from the Key where it was embedded in the throne.

"Lady…?" He paused, trailing off almost seeming to ask for my name. Inviting me to supply it. There was a faint trace of tension in the air as if they both thought there was something damaging or threatening in asking me for my name. I found it strange.

For a moment, I almost replied flippantly, saying something like 'Queen of the Damned' or even 'The Outsider' as the borderline feral inhabitants of the island of Yamatai called me but I refrained. As amusing as either name would be the weight of either one was honestly still a little fresh. Funnily enough, after Yamatai, in both Siberia and South America the majority of my enemies knew me as Croft. The Outsider just brought to mind all the deaths of my friends on that island and the pointlessness of the whole thing.

While later I had even pretended I was unbothered by the title, it really had a lot of bad memories. Plus, that wasn't even what they were asking for.

"Croft," I decided to reply simply, I pulled my mask-crown from my face, revealing my tired features, "Archeologist."