Free Shadow Visions: Shadow Warriors, Book 2 by Gabriella Hewitt

distance from it and eyed it warily as if it would come to life.
    “He was a powerful Aztec god that left the pantheon to marry a human woman.” Manuel sat down cross-legged in front of Ixa. He looked into her soft, brown eyes. He wanted to erase the worry and doubt that had seeped into them. But a few of his own fears were simmering just below the surface. Manuel understood the importance of the stick, but did Ixa? He had to find out what she knew. It was his turn to interrogate.
    “The wind god promised Huitzilopochtli that he would return. No one has heard from or seen him since. It makes me wonder how your abuelo came into the possession of such an important scepter.”
     
    Ixa brought her knees up and hugged them to her chest as if that would contain the power that threatened to erupt. Her gaze never strayed from her abuelo’s walking stick, though she kept her focus on Manuel’s voice. His baritone wrapped around her, providing the comfort she needed but could not ask for.
    “I don’t know. For as long as I can remember, Abuelo has always walked with a stick.” The image of her abuelo’s smiling face floated through her mind. Her visions threatened to steal it away. She shook her head, afraid of what else the vision might bring. She needed to focus on something else. “Tell me about Ehecatl.”
    “It is an old story. Surely, your abuelo taught you our ways.”
    Ixa stiffened. “He tried to.”
    Manuel reached forward and took her hands between his. His rough hands slid back and forth over hers, warming her insides and making the tattoo on her arm pulse.
    “Ehecatl in Nahuatl language means wind. He was the great Aztec god of the wind, and he sat in the pantheon among other great gods like Quetzalcoatl and Huitzilopochtli. His breath moved the sun and pushed away rain. Every day, he would look down onto the Earth and watch the people, blowing in and out of their lives. He adored humans and gave them fresh air to breathe. About nearly a century ago, he spied a beautiful maiden gathering corn. Her name was Mayahuel. He fell in love. He descended to Earth never to return to the pantheon again.”
    “Mayahuel.” Ixa smiled. “That was my great-grandmother’s name.”
    Manuel looked at her quizzically. “Not a very common name.”
    Ixa gently pulled her hands back and stood. She crossed the room to an old wood dresser. “My great-grandmother originally settled in this cabin. My abuelo likes to come here. He says it brings him peace.” She pulled open the drawer and took out a leather-bound photo album. She hugged the book to her breast. “In here is my family.” She quickly went back to the rug and sat down beside Manuel, her thigh lightly touching his.
    Lovingly, she opened the album and turned the page. Inside lay an old sepia-colored photo of a woman dressed in Native American garb. Long black braids woven with cornhusks and ribbons framed her round face. “Abuelo says I look very much like her.”
    Manuel reached over and tugged her braid. “Definitely beautiful.”
    Self-consciously, Ixa swept her braid back over her shoulder. She knew her looks were ordinary, her face too round and her eyes too brown.
    Still, the way he looked at her made her feel beautiful.
    Manuel took the album from her and quickly thumbed through the pictures. “Do you have a picture of your great-grandfather?”
    “No. Abuelo was an illegitimate child, but Mayahuel raised him with love.”
    “Not that I would expect to recognize him,” Manuel mused. “He had no known permanent physical form. Among the Aztecs he was called Our Father, the mover of matter in the universe. In Nahuatl we say Yohualli Ehecatl. ”
    “Did you say Yohualli?” She shook her head in disbelief. “That is my abuelo’s last name.”
    Manuel looked her up and down, eyeing her suspiciously. “How old is your abuelo?”
    “Eighty-seven. Why?”
    Manuel scrubbed his hands over his face. “It makes sense. Your tattoo. Your powers.” He smiled