A/N: Meant to post this yesterday, but got tied up in another project.

Sciencegal - That's what I'VE been telling him. Stubborn turtle.
tentenbaby- Thanks.
Duckie - Coyo would agree. But she's got little choice. So, ha, Coyo. Glad you like Nenetl. She reminds me a little of Irma and Baker. Huh. Guess I have a fondness with well-meaning elderly people. They got so much to offer. XD

CHAPTER 12: THE TOUR

Huitzilopochtli noticed Leonardo looked green, even for a turtle's complexion. "Are you ill, Cuamahui?" he asked.

Leonardo grimaced as if the title 'friend' was an insult. Or maybe he disliked how the villagers muttered as they passed the library.

"Your request has been honored," Huitzi continued. "Chieftain Coyolxauhqui and Cihuapatli Nenetl have spoken with K'ekchi. They no longer offer gifts."

"Yeah," Leonardo said, "but now they look at me like…"

"Like what?"

The turtle-man sighed, his knuckles white as they squeezed his walking staff. "Doesn't matter."

Huitzi nodded. "I understand. How are you? Does standing again feel strange?" The man's vision fell. Despite their yellowish tint and slight quivers, Leonardo's legs seemed to struggled more from underuse than from healing.

'Remarkable,' Huitzi thought. 'God or no, he has been enhanced somehow. Only Teo can survive Hupaxque.'

"I'm weak," Leonardo said with a sigh. "But upright. So."

"Progress?" Huitzi sent a smile that soon died. "Are you certain about this? I understand if a bath required all your energy."

"A bucket and a rag hardly count as a bath where I'm from."

"Were you dissatisfied?"

"Nah." Leonardo ignored Huitzi's mild stare. "The simplicity was"—he shrugged—"relaxing, fresh. Made me realize how long I've been…"

"Been what?"

The turtle-man scoffed. "I don't know. Guess sitting still for so long was driving me crazy."

Huitzi chuckled—until Leonardo's smirk fell. The turtle-man muttered into his shoulder, eyes darting sideways like an invisible enemy stood there. A pit formed in the man's gut; he could not help comparing the behavior to that of his father, Atl.

"Huitzi!" Coyolxauhqui's cry was followed by thumping footfalls.

Huitzilopochtli faced his sister. "Coyo," he said. "Have you spoken with the Tonalquizca already?"

"Yes," Coyo replied in Nuahtl. She straightened from catching her breath beside Izel then lowered her brows. "Why did you not wait?"

"Daylight is dwindling."

"You said I could help."

"Can Leonardo not choose when he wishes to walk?"

A red tinge darkened Coyo's face as Izel patted her shoulder. "Have pity, Huitzi. Coyo just suffered through yet another Tlaloc rant. He's quite high-strung today. Rather annoying, really."

"A rant about what?"

Izel raised an eyebrow then drew her gaze to Leonardo.

"I—is something wrong?" Leonardo asked.

"Fear not," Huitzi said in English. "Coyo and Izel are excited for turtle-man. Glad he has stepped outside. Want to give him a tour."

"Wasn't that always the plan?" Leonardo met Huitzi with squinted eyes, and the man grinned.

"Village much larger than turtle-man might think," he said. "We can rest whenever necessary. Just say so."

"I bet I won't be the only one in need of breaks."

Huitzi frowned as Leonardo glanced over the man's bony build. While right, the turtle-man had no place in pointing out Huitzi's mortality.

"Uh, Huitzi?" Coyo grabbed her brother's bicep and spoke in Nahuatl. "May Coyo choose the route?"

"If you do, you must speak English." The man almost laughed at how flush his sister became. "Consider this a test," he added.

"Very well."

"Pardon? Was that English?"

The curly-haired woman huffed, speaking English, "Mean, yes."

"Better."

"Can we start?" Izel asked. Her blue lips puckered. "The Calpocatl are taking inventory, and their hut is too close."

"Still avoiding Elder Matlal?" countered Huitzi.

The skinhead soured.

"Is cualli," Coyo said. "We go Calpocatl last. Leo"—Coyo met the mutant with furrowed brows—"pre-pah, uh, pre-par...par."

"Prepared?" Leonardo suggested.

"Quema! Ah, yes."

"I've been ready." Leonardo's fingers wiggled around his walking staff as he took a step forward. "Where to?"

"Come!" Coyo gestured for the others to follow then picked a direction. Huitzi could only imagine how erratic a tour her flighty mind would give.

Izel understood her best friend's mind. The Chieftain often succumbed to tangents and distractions, and her tour was no exception. What Izel could not understand was why Coyo chose Tlahcoyan as a rest point. It was a massive, circular hut with an exposed center that could host the entire tribe if necessary. Anyone could be there, including Elder Matlal or Sacnite.

'This is how I wanted to spend sundown,' Izel thought, scanning the crowd with a frown.

"Relax, Izzy," Coyolxauhqui said in English. She sat under the shade of Tlahcoyan's fern roof, between Huitzilopochtli and Leonardo. "Xochicuicatl is nearing. The Calpocatl is busy to track."

"I could say the same about the Tonalquizca," Izel retorted. She squatted by the trio, though, and stuffed a Naranjilla in her mouth from a plate in Coyo's lap.

"Izzy," Coyo whined. "Is for Leo."

Chewing slowly on the tart fruit, Izel asked, "So?"

"That's alright, Coyo," Leo added.

"But—"

"I'm not hungry."

"Nauseous or overwhelmed?" asked Huitzi.

"Little of both, I guess," Leo answered. His dark eyes roamed Tlahcoyan. "Workhouses? Training programs? A school? It's so unexpected for such a secluded place."

Huitzi straightened—a poignant act, given his sickly features. "What did you expect? Savages? Anarchy?"

Leo's head whipped towards the man. "I—I don't mean it like—"

Huitzi raised a scarred palm. "How different do you believe we are from modern society? They have governments which equal our Elders. Presidents or totalitarians who equal our Chieftain. Laws. Even the main religion has a parallel belief to our Great Spirit, Ometeotl."

"I thought Amazonians believed in multiple gods."

"Each tribe differs, just like each church in the world. Personally, our beliefs have shifted over the last hundred years."

"Why's that?"

"For the same reason anything changes." Huitzi smiled. "Experience."

"What is your history, anyway?" Izel questioned. She stuffed another Naranjilla in her mouth and chewed it as she spoke, "All we know is your name. And that you are foreign."

Leo sobered faster than a child caught sipping Chicha.

"Not up for stories? After so many suns?" Izel swallowed. "Are we not friends?"

"Let turtle-man share when he is ready, Izel," Huitzi said. He took a fruit from the now communal plate then bit it in half.

"You must be curious as well," Izel told the man in Nuahtl. "The only other foreigner our tribe is involved with is April O'Neil. And you will not allow anyone to accompany you during meetings."

"Mask not selfish motives under the guise of innocent curiosity."

"Are you accusing me of—"

"Sorry," Leo interjected. "Did you just say something about an Apil O'Neil?"

The three K'ekchi exchanged looks before Coyo answered, "Yes."

"A pale redhead about as tall as Huitzi? Owns an antique shop in the States?" As Coyo nodded, the green creature scoffed, mouth twisted into a strange smile. "That's why it sounded familiar."

"What did?" asked Huitzi.

"Your tribe. This tea."

"The Kokee?" Coyo added.

"My father drinks this. And those statues?" Leo pointed at a table across Tlahcoyan lined with creations from Calpocatl Amoxtli. "My, uh…I know someone who collects those."

"From Second Time Around?"

Leo nodded towards Huitzi.

"You know our American contact?" Izel questioned.

Again, Leo nodded. "She's, uh," he swallowed, "she's like a big sister."

"What is that English quote?" Huitzi added. "It is a small world?"

"That's the one," answered Leo.

"Great Ometeotl," Coyo breathed. She leaned towards the turtle creature. Maybe too close for his comfort. "You know who she gives our gifts to? Do they appriciate them? Who are they? Are they dear to you?"

"Coyo," Izel sang. When the Chieftain faced her, she fought a laugh. "You are not speaking English."

"No?"

"No."

"Well, I—"

"Huitzilopochtli," a male voice interjected. So firm, so self-assured, despite addressing a superior—it could only belong to Tlaloc.

Izel watched the square-faced warrior approach, his bright eyes so focused on Leonardo that she felt offended. "Tlaloc," she said, "there are others present as well."

"Yes," the man added in Nuahtl, "I noticed."

"Is there an issue?" Huizti questioned.

"Of sorts." Tlaloc kept part of his attention on the green creature, the other part occupied by Coyo's frown. "Talk of this being—"

"Leonardo," Coyo corrected.

Tlaloc jerked his head down like he wished to honor his chief with a nod yet lacked conviction. "Talk of him has all but distracted our tribe. And parading around the village has done nothing to quell such attention."

"He has a right to walk," Izel told the warrior. "As you do."

"Rights are not what I question, Calpocatl."

"What do you question then?" Huitzi asked. Izel commended him for keeping calm and chewed another fruit in wait of an explanation.

"Honorable Chief," Tlaloc stated, addressing Coyo, "you must understand how this looks to our people. They see you standing beside him, a Yaoqui."

"He is no Yaoqui," the Chieftain said with a raised chin. "He is Cuamahui."

"Cuamahui? How? What do you know of him?" Tlaloc's gaze intensified as Coyo's chin lowered. Not even Izel had an answer to defend her best friend with; they knew little more than the creature's name. "You are a symbol of strength, Coyolxauhqui," the warrior added. "What good does it do their souls to see you interact with this outsider more vigorously than you do with the Tonalquizca?"

Coyo fumbled for words, glancing around Tlahcoyan with a wounded look. It pained Izel to admit it, even internally, that the warrior had a fair point.

"Uh," Leonardo added, "excuse the 'yah-oh-kiwi' or 'coo-hooey-whatever', but I'd appreciate it if you talked about me in a language I know."

Tlaloc met the turtle creature with wild eyes. "Then return home, Outsider," he said in English.

"Tlaloc—"

Tlaloc cut off Huitzi with a sigh and when he spoke again, it was in his native tongue, "Consider these matters more carefully, Honored Chief. Consider your people as well as…new charges. And forgive my intrusion; I never meant to bring shame, just thought. The day has been…long. I will see you at the morning briefing. Ma Xipahtinemi."

Then, with little more than a bow, Tlaloc disappeared into the crowd clamoring for their evening meals.

Tlaloc's words stuck to Leonardo's thoughts like flies in honey, which was odd, given that most of his words were foreign. There was something within the tribesman's tone, something familiar and haunting. Anger. Fear. Frustration. But not entirely towards Leo. Whatever lecture he had given had been directed at Coyolxauhqui and her only. Why?

"Coyo sorry, Leo."

Leonardo slipped against a muddy slope. His bare knee met the ground, and he craned his neck sideways to see Coyolxauhqui ahead. The tribeswoman looked back, her soft expression nearly hidden by untamed hair and a muscular thigh that Angel would envy.

"For what?" Leo asked.

"Tlaloc," Coyo answered. Then, she scrambled upwards, using exposed roots as anchors. "Coyo want nice day. Want Leo…happy."

"Happy, huh?" Leo sounded snider than intended. How could he help it, though? In all honesty, happiness seemed like a concept, not an emotion. "That why we left the village?"

"Village not far. Leo miss?"

Was she teasing him? The mutant scoffed, digging his walking stick into the soft soil and fighting against gravity.

"Coyo place better," the tribeswoman continued. "Leo see."

Why not? Inhaling, Leo followed his guide. The hill's remainder might as well have been Everest at the rate his sore legs moved, but the mutant made it a point to reach the hill's crest without any aid. There, the Rainforest's chirps echoed louder than ever before, and for the first time, Leo realized K'ekchi Village was settled in a lush valley.

"Leo"—Coyo earned the mutant's attention with a smile—"come."

'What would Mike say about this?' Leo wondered, complying. 'He'd probably associate everything with a horror movie. Say I'm acting like a dumb main character.'

Dumb or no, a nature hike sure beat any awkward loitering Leo had been doing ever since Tlaloc's outcry. With that in mind, he felt sure-footed in trekking forward—until the trees thinned into prairie fields and the Rainforest chips were replaced by a new song. Leonardo recognized its rhythm from the docks at Lower Manhattan, the breaking of water against stone.

'A sea cliff?' he thought.

"Here!" Coyo waved from afar.

She stood below a tree in bloom, an ancient one that dwarfed any Leo had seen in his lifetime. How had it lived to reach such a grand height? Erosion had all but stolen the soil around it and its exposed, gnarled roots left it suspended between two sections of cliff—as if it alone kept the parts from crumbling into the ocean. Maybe it did. Maybe those sections were the sole reason the tree survived, even though it seemed ready to falter at any given moment.

"Sort'a like you, eh, Freak? Only, ya let go."

Leo ignored Donald's voice, meeting Coyo beneath the tree's outstretched limbs. Sea breezes assaulted his body with thick, salt air, but somehow he breathed easier than when below the Rainforest canopy.

"How is this tree still standing?" he asked.

"Huelihca is strong," Coyo answered.

"Weh-leeh-kah? Did you name the tree?"

Coyo grinned then jumped onto the tree roots.

"Coyo!" the mutant cried. He realized how loud he sounded when the tribeswoman chuckled and felt his cheeks burn as he lowered his arm.

"Huelihca mean stand well," Coyo added. She continued to balance along the roots towards the tree base, casual and experienced. "Huelicha will never fall."

Leonardo watched the tribeswoman as she ran a hand along the tree's bleached trunk. Her joyous smile turned content and she rested her forehead against its bark with a sigh that the ocean silenced.

"It's an escape," Leo said. Coyo faced him with wide eyes, and Leo looked towards the dusk sky as he continued, "When I was little, I had something similar. A safe spot. I mean, I loved my family. Still do. But sometimes the noises became too much, ya know? Not just them, either. The whole city could be deafening. So I'd, uh, find a quiet place—the quietest possible—and sit there. Not thinking. Not moving. Just…being."

"Can Leo tell Coyo of his family?" Coyo asked. But his clan wasn't something the mutant wished to talk about, and he sent the tribeswoman a look that said so. "Huitzi believe Coyo no need Huelicha," Coyo added. Smile strained, she ventured out on the thickest root. "Huitzi say faith should be enough. It is not."

"Faith"—Leo spoke the word with disdain—"faith isn't sustainable. It's cruel, disappointing, makes you understand how powerless you are."

Their words echoed in his dreams. Even when he woke, he couldn't escape them. It hurt everywhere. Was it insomnia? The drugs? The cage? The people? Or was it guilt? He couldn't tell. And that hurt even worse.

Leo stepped back, clenching his plastron. For a moment he swore he was locked inside Cell F-9, but when he blinked, the grated walls were replaced by a purple skyline and an outstretched hand.

"Leo, join," Coyo said with a renewed smile.

"Uh." Leo glanced at her then the sheer drop towards the ocean. Did it lengthen the longer he stared? Or was that his childhood Acrophobia resurfacing?

"Is safe," Coyo insisted. She pulled Leonardo onto the roots—an impressive feat for someone who barely reached his armpits in height.

The mutant stumbled over the root web, cursing, and flashed a glare that the tribeswoman giggled at. "This place is your sanctuary, right?" he asked, following her footsteps. "Wh—why take me here?"

"As sorry for bad tour. And for peace. Come, sit." Coyo eagerly waved as she took a seat without looking. Guess she knew what would be below her: a sideways-turned root that resembled a bench. A bench dangling over a hundred foot drop. "Leo like music?"

"Music?" Leo did his best to avoid looking down, focusing instead on the dark-skinned human he sat beside. She held up a fat, painted object. Upon closer inspection, Leo noticed it was shaped like a turtle with holes perforated down its carapace. "An Ocarina?" he asked.

Coyo nodded, saying, "Can Coyo play?"

"Uh," the mutant shrugged, "sure?"

Was she seeking permission? Why? This tree was her safe place, so the happiness behind her golden stare left Leo confused. Then again, little about the tribeswoman made sense. He scrunched his face, yet said nothing when he set his walking staff aside. He just listened, his muscles relaxing the moment the Ocarina's first notes carried over the crashing waves.