The children and their companions landed hard, sinking deep into a soft pile of snow. Their obsidian finery and heavy armor dragged them further into the freezing white, each breath leaving a plume of steam that quickly vanished in the sharp air.
They clawed their way free, adjusting their armor with hasty thought. The obsidian dust responded, reshaping into lighter forms—shorter cloaks, tighter sandals, thin shields that did not weigh them down. But even so, the cold seeped in, relentless.
Marisol felt it worst of all. No matter what she shaped onto her feet, the frost always crept upward, threading through her body until she shook uncontrollably. Soon the others shivered too. Even Xolo, who had bounded through every trial with untiring joy, now whined with each step. His once-proud panther mask shattered as his obsidian armor rattled against itself, his body trembling. For a fleeting moment, the sound made Marisol smile through her chattering teeth.
For the first time since the beginning of their journey, they stood still long enough to breathe without running. Marisol realized with a strange jolt that she hadn't thought about hunger, thirst, or even sleep since the bell tolled. None of them had. And yet, she didn't feel weaker—only more aware. The snowy plain stretched endlessly before her, quiet, still, almost serene despite the cold.
She knew this peace was a lie. Just as with every trial before, danger hid beneath the surface. Still, she could not doubt. Something inside her—deep, primal, older than herself—told her this was the way forward. She didn't question it. Not yet.
Jaw tight, shoulders squared, Marisol pressed ahead, leading the shivering group once more. They would reach the end. She would make sure of it.
Her first few steps sank deep into the powder, crunching softly. Then, without warning—she was gone.
A faint scream tore through the silence, lingering for only a heartbeat before it was swallowed by the howling wind. A crevice yawned where she had been, its jagged edges revealing an icy cliff that plunged into a labyrinth of tunnels carved into the frozen earth.
The twins rushed forward, stumbling, nearly tumbling themselves in their panic. When they reached the edge, their breath caught. Below, dozens—no, hundreds—of holes gaped like the mouths of buried beasts, each one burrowing deeper into the glacier.
They froze. The enormity of choice paralyzed them.
It was the pygmy owl that broke the stillness, chattering urgently in Jaime's ear. Jaime shook his head, muttering through clenched teeth, his face pale. The owl pressed, sharper now, its golden eyes blazing. The boy resisted, the god inside tugging him one way, his own fear another.
Then Xolo barked—loud, commanding, sharp as a slap. The sound cut through their panic, silencing both boy and bird.
Moments later, they heard it: a cry for help.
Faint, muffled, but real.
From one cluster of tunnels the voice echoed, fragile and strained. Marisol's voice.
The twins met each other's eyes. No words were needed. Together, they turned to the icy cliff and prepared to descend.
Marisol's fall lasted only seconds, though it stretched into eternity in her mind. She dug claws of obsidian into the walls, scraping sparks of black and ice with every desperate strike, but the slide carried her relentlessly downward—hundreds of feet, maybe more.
When at last she tumbled onto a narrow ledge, her body curled tight, the brilliance of the world above was gone. Only a faint, ghostly light seeped through the glacier walls, the blue glow painting her surroundings in an otherworldly haze. Just a roll away, the ledge ended in a sheer drop plunging even deeper into the frozen abyss.
Her breath trembled. She called out for help, her voice swallowed by the labyrinth. The echoes returned weak and meaningless. Useless. She pressed her forehead to the ice and felt warm tears sting her eyes.
A single droplet touched her brow. She startled—water? Here, in this frozen hell? And now that she noticed…she wasn't as cold as before. Water shimmered faintly within the ice.
Gritting her teeth, Marisol forced herself to move. She conjured obsidian spears, stabbing them into the walls as anchors, forming a ladder, then a crawling platform, step by step toward the fissure she'd fallen through. Her armor clung close to her body, heavy yet malleable, a second skin of jagged black stone. She had shaped it like Jimena's, merged with her huipil so the dust obeyed her thoughts.
Every movement creaked. Every step made the glacier groan. Still, she called out as she climbed, hoping her voice might guide the twins down to her.
Then—crack.
One of her anchors split the wall. A jagged seam tore across the tunnel. Entire slabs of ice shifted back and collapsed.
"¡No!" she screamed, hurling more spears to catch herself, but they shattered as the wall gave way. The platform crumbled beneath her, and she was flung backward, sliding. Faster. Deeper.
She shrieked, armor thickening around her as shadows swallowed her. Then—impact.
The world broke into blue. She slammed into a pool of frigid water, the shock seizing her body, her lungs burning as she clawed upward. The cavern around her was like the bottom of the sea—dim, endless, suffocating.
Helplessness consumed her. She burst into sobs, fists slamming the icy walls. Splashes and cracks echoed in the chamber. Her cries bled into roars of grief, of rage.
What was she thinking? She was no leader. Just a child. A foolish, arrogant child who thought herself chosen. She had followed a whisper in her blood, a feeling she couldn't explain—and for what? To die here in the dark?
Her fists bled against the ice, each strike weaker than the last. The despair numbed her bones more than the cold ever could. She sank to her knees, broken, the weight of her armor pressing her down into the snow.
Then—something strange.
Through the fractures she had carved into the wall, a glimmer of pink shone faintly against the blue. Small. Fragile. Impossible. Yet her eyes locked onto it.
Marisol's breath hitched. Her exhaustion blurred away, replaced by a singular fixation: reach it.
Her fists slammed harder, her claws tore deeper. Piece by piece, she carved the thing free until it tumbled into her palms.
An axolotl. Pink, soft-skinned, limp and frozen stiff.
For a heartbeat she stared in disbelief. What is this doing here?
Then it twitched. She yelped, dropping it, only to snatch it back up as she saw its tiny body stiffen whenever it touched the ice. Cradled in her warm hands, its limbs loosened again. Its little gills fluttered faintly, and a squeaky belch bubbled from its mouth.
Marisol laughed—sudden, sharp, unrestrained. Her despair cracked like the ice beneath her.
She poked its round belly, and the axolotl blinked open its golden, liquid eyes, staring up at her with a solemnity far older than its small body.
For the first time since falling, she smiled.
Marisol cupped the axolotl gently, her warmth seeping into its small body, filling her with an odd resilience in return. As the creature's limbs twitched awake, it wriggled with restless energy. Concerned, she opened her palms to see what was wrong.
Sleepy-eyed though it was, the axolotl startled her with sudden speed. It scrambled up her arm, pressing its soft appendages to her cheek. Step by tiny step, it crept toward her mouth as though inching along a cliff's edge with no ground beneath. When it reached her lips and felt the warmth of her breath, it clung there, pressing curiously as though to squeeze inside.
Marisol froze—half curious, half horrified. She yelped in surprise and tried to snatch the little thing away, but it slipped deftly between her fingers, abandoning its strange mission. Instead, it darted across her chest, patting at her neck and collar like a squirrel testing the shell of a nut for weakness.
She squirmed, laughter bubbling out despite herself. "Stop—! That tickles!"
The axolotl ignored her protests, wriggling with determination. Amused and oddly endeared, Marisol relented. She opened a small gap in her armor, and the creature dove in eagerly, nestling into the warmth between her breasts. Its cool, smooth skin sent a shiver through her body, but soon it lay still, content. Marisol shaped a small obsidian dome around the spot, forming a pocket for its rest.
At last, she settled into a shallow alcove in the icy wall. For the first time since her fall, she allowed herself to breathe, to think. The descent had brought her far deeper into the glacier, yet here, strangely, the cold was bearable.
Then she felt a gentle pressure against her chest. The axolotl stirred, lifting its head. Its once-groggy eyes now glowed with luminous gold.
Hello, came a soft, childlike voice inside her mind. My name is Axochi. What's yours?
Marisol's lips parted in surprise, then curved into a smile. She stroked its slick back, feeling an uncanny closeness to this tiny creature. "I'm Marisol. But… what are you doing down here?"
The little axolotl winced, shaking its head. Better to get out first, don't you think? it said, tilting its head at her with innocent reproach.
Marisol laughed, brushing damp strands of hair from her face. "I don't think I can. Not on my own."
Sure you can. Axochi puffed out its small chest, planting its stubby hands on its hips with exaggerated bravado. I'll help you!
It raised its arms dramatically. The nearby pond quivered, a sphere of water rising into the air at its command. The orb floated toward her, glowing faintly in the dim blue cavern.
"See?" Axochi chirped proudly.
Marisol poked the sphere with her finger. It popped, splashing onto the icy floor and freezing solid within seconds.
She tilted her head, feigning seriousness. "That's it? That's your best?"
"Of course not!" Axochi squeaked, tail swishing indignantly as it flailed its arms like a tiny sorcerer.
Marisol's wide smile returned. Something inside her, so heavy before, felt light again. She bent her head and pressed a gentle kiss against Axochi's smooth, bald crown. Warmth surged through her chest, not from magic, but from a fragile, unexpected joy.
The little axolotl flushed pinker than before, covering its face with its tiny hands. D-Don't do that! it squeaked, squirming in embarrassment.
Marisol laughed aloud, her heart brimming with a hope she thought she had lost.