With purposeful tread Uaxac strode through the city. Those who had not fallen prey to the god's hunger either wandered dazed through the ruined streets or huddled in their homes like frightened rabbits. "Come with me," Uaxac said to each one. "We must get everyone together so that I can teach them how we may appease the god."

"What good is it to appease him?" many of them moaned as they wrung their hands. "He will devour us all sooner or later," wailed some others. "We should flee while he is asleep." All of them clenched their teeth and tore at their hair, their eyes wide and fearful, like those of lost children. Their leaders had been killed; their homes offered them no sanctuary, and as they saw it, the gods themselves looked upon them now only as food. Their whole world had been shattered, and many had simply resigned themselves to stay and die.

Something had changed inside of Uaxac, though. His eyes burned fiercely and his voice carried with it a terrible power. When he spoke to them, the people stopped wailing and stared at him with their mouths open, unable to look away. "You listened to the priests and their boys," he said solemnly to them. "Now they are gone, and hundreds of our people are dead. Now it is time for you to listen to me. If not me, then whom?"

Little by little, the people began to cluster around him. Their faces were stricken, their eyes pleading desperately for guidance in a world that had gone mad. They pressed in close, eager and hopeful. "We must act quickly," Uaxac told them. "Go out now and look for those who are still alive. Tell them all to gather on the ridge that overlooks the temple. Those who are strong must carry the wounded. When everyone is together, I will tell you all at once what we must do."

"What if they will not go?" someone said meekly.

Uaxac turned toward him with a grim face. "Those who do not go will surely be meat for the god's belly in the morning."

The people obeyed.

Well into the night the survivors stumbled from the ruins and gathered on the ridge. Torches dotted the dark hillside like fireflies. Uaxac stood upon the crest, his arms folded resolutely, his eyes piercing the darkness on the far side of the ridge where the giant god slept, unseen, although the distant roar of his breath made his presence plain. The terrible sound made even the stoutest man cower in fear, and everyone stared anxiously at the dim figure of Uaxac at the summit of the ridge and waited for him to speak. A long time passed before he finally turned and gazed down at the many desperate, torchlit faces below him.

"Has T'unu-kan come to destroy us?" he called in a thundering voice. "Or have we simply not yet proven ourselves worthy of his notice?" The people murmured uncertainly, but Uaxac pressed on. "It is time to forget what the priests told you! They made you believe that they stood as one with the gods, and yet I watched as T'unu-kan crushed them like ants. Myself, I am no priest. I am Uaxac the Fisherman, but I have stood at the god's foot, and I still live. I slept soundly beneath his hand, and I still live. I have laid my hands upon the very foot that trampled the priests who led you astray, and I still live."

He paused long enough for the echoes of his voice to fade away. Nothing moved on the hillside. No one made a sound. "I stood by that same foot as T'unu-kan pleasured himself in the courtyard, even after he had killed countless numbers of our people. He could have killed me too if he wished, but although he saw me clearly, once again he spared my life. What can this be but a sign? It is clear to me now what we must do to earn the god's favor."

Uaxac drew himself up and took a deep breath. "We must please him ... as a female would."

There was a shocked buzzing from the assemblage. "The women, you mean," someone called out incredulously.

Uaxac shook his head. "You have all seen the god's size. It will take great strength to give him pleasure. Women will not be strong enough; there must be men as well."

This was not well received by the crowd. Some of the men began to shout angrily, their torches bobbing in the darkness, but Uaxac remained resolute. "We shall rest," he commanded. "Tomorrow at sunrise we shall set to our task while the god is still asleep. He will wake to our veneration, and will finally see us as his People."

Someone shouted, "This is preposterous! If we flee now, we can be far away by morning!"

"Do you believe you can run from T'unu-kan, he who can cross this hill in but one stride?" Uaxac shot back. "Do not be foolish. He will catch you and he will eat you, just as he ate those who fled before him today."

"And how do you know that he will spare us?" another voice called from the darkness.

Uaxac frowned and for a moment he was quiet. "Either I am right, or I am wrong," he said gravely. "If I am right, then it will be only those who run away who will die. If I am wrong, then those who run will still die."

The crowd muttered uncertainly. Uaxac said nothing more to them, but instead turned away and stretched out on the ground to sleep. He prayed quietly to T'unu-kan that the people would heed his words.

Dawn arrived, and Uaxac was overjoyed when he awoke to find that nearly all of the people had remained with him. They were gathered in groups on the hillside below him, their faces grim, but their eyes gleaming with the faint hope that the bedraggled fisherman might somehow be speaking the truth. Without a word the people climbed to the top of the ridge and stood with Uaxac, who smiled encouragingly and then turned to gaze with them down the hill.

In the broad valley below lay the gigantic T'unu-kan, stretched out on his back amidst the flattened forest that served as his bed. One forearm was thrown lazily across his eyes, shielding them from the morning sun. His mouth was open, and his great chest slowly rose and fell with the rumbling of his breath that had echoed through the night.

With the people following behind, Uaxac started down the hill. The god's massive form faded from view as the crowd made its way down into the trees, but his breathing made the very air tremble around them. At the head of the crowd, Uaxac strode with purposeful tread, his jaw set with determination, and before long he arrived at the edge of the clearing where the trees had been torn down. Ahead of him rose the gigantic black soles of the god's feet. Frightened whispers arose as the people approached from behind and stopped, too nervous to proceed any further.

Uaxac smiled over his shoulder at them, and then strode bravely forward, nimbly hopping from one fallen trunk to another until he stood between the mammoth paws. There he turned and called back to his people, "Look into your hearts. It does not matter if you are afraid. If you are still willing to offer yourselves with love to the god's pleasure despite your fear, then come forward and join me. If you do not have the strength, then stay where you are, but do not run when the god casts his eye upon you. If you run, then you will become nothing to him but insects. If you trust in him as I do, then he will at last see you as one of his People."

With that, Uaxac turned and marched confidently between the god's legs. They lay like immense furry walls to either side, forming a dark canyon that grew steadily narrower as Uaxac strode past the god's knees. His own heart was pounding, not from fear as much as apprehension for the lives of his people. They were so terribly frightened. Would they have the strength to prove themselves worthy, or would they panic and run, and show themselves to be useful only for food?

Ahead of him loomed the god's malehood, two vast spheres enfolded in a great dark sack. Uaxac's knees quivered as he drew nearer, until finally he was close enough that he could reach out and lay his hand upon them for the first time. They were almost hot beneath his touch. Their scent was overpowering, surrounding him with a nearly palpable presence. Heady and thick, it filled his spirit even as it filled his lungs. He felt dizzy, drunken...

A hand settled on his shoulder, breaking the spell and making him jump. He spun about to find another man, trembling but determined, standing beside him. Behind that man a small army had gathered between the god's legs -- men and women, weak and strong, young and old. Uaxac smiled and nodded. "Now we must climb," he said. "Help those who cannot climb on their own. Tell those in the back to bring some vines from the forest."

Like little ants the people began to swarm up onto T'unu- kan's thighs. Gripping the thick strands of fur in their hands they pulled themselves up to the top. They climbed in silence, as though worried that even their tiny voices might disturb the god's slumber. Uaxac led them, his head still spinning with wonder and delight at the warmth of the god's body beneath him. Even if I am wrong, he found himself thinking, I will die happy for just this moment.

The landscape beneath them was like a vast field that rose and fell in a slow, hypnotic motion. All of them turned their heads this way and that, marveling at the god's awesome size as they began to gather around the great, fur-shrouded bulk that lay upon his stomach. Uaxac stepped past them and knealt at its tip, which rose as big as a house before him. His fingers traced a gentle pattern where the fur grew thin, and he smiled as the fleshy rim twitched at his touch.

"Come," he said to the rest. "Help me." There was an uncertain pause, and then the people shuffled forward, reaching hesitantly forward to touch the warm, enormous sheath. Some gasped quietly; others stared, eyes filled with amazement. Grrowing bolder, first one, and then many others began to press themselves against it. Some stroked their hands in broad circles; others found that the flesh would move if they pushed hard enough upon it. "No, not like that," Uaxac scolded gently as he noticed them all stroking in different directions. "Follow me closely. Everyone, first, down toward his legs -- good! Now up toward his chest. Press in hard; I do not think we are going to hurt him. Yes, that's the way! To his legs...now to his chest...to his legs...to his chest...use your strength...smoothly now..."

An excited whisper arose as the big sheath grew conspicuously firmer. The flesh no longer shifted as readily and it was growing increasingly difficult to press one's body into its surface. Then a small cry went out as the tip reared up and split open, and a rounded black dome larger than a man began to emerge. "Don't stop," Uaxac urged. "This is just the beginning." He ran to the giant's hip and motioned for more to climb up and join them. Encouraged that the god was responding favorably to the offering, more people emerged from the woods and clambered up onto his belly.

The mighty organ glistened in the morning sun as it slithered from its hiding place. It appeared to be made of the same polished ebony as the god's claws, but its surface was warm and silken to the touch, and throbbed with life. It grew thicker as it emerged, inch by ponderous inch, and as it swelled larger, more and more people began to gather around its growing length.

Uaxac had positioned himself in the center of the god's belly and had been backing slowly away from the advancing organ while he directed his people's movements. Now he stepped forward and placed his hands on its curved tip, and with a mighty heave he vaulted up and scrambled onto its underside. He stood firmly, legs spread out for balance as the fleshy surface twitched and pulsed beneath his feet. "Do not slow down," he called down. "Push harder. We need more near the tip. With me, now: legs...chest...legs... chest...Now, bring the vines..."

Little figures now surrounded the huge organ on each side. The people worked with great determination, straining to shift the black skin over the firmer flesh beneath. Those who could not get in close enough themselves threw vines over its bulk and pulled them taut. Uaxac ordered the strongest men to climb upon it and use the vines for leverage so that they could stroke with their bodies.

T'unu-kan began to stir. His arm slipped away from his face and his head rolled slowly to the side. His tongue flashed from between his lips and swept up over his whiskers. The rhythm of his breathing changed, growing deeper, louder. Some of the people weeping in terror and Uaxac tried to reassure them. "We are all frightened," he said soothingly, "but you must stand firm. No matter what happens, do not flee from him. He must see that we are people, not mindless insects. He must be shown that we are eager to serve him even as we stand in awe of his might."

The people toiled onward, gritting their teeth in determination. Uaxac chanted the rhythm for them, uttering encouraging words when he saw them falter. T'unu-kan's mighty chest was rising and falling more rapidly. His growing excitement leaked forth in an endless stream from an opening large enough that a grown man could have crawled inside it. The scent of his arousal was now almost suffocating. Uaxac could feel the god's heartbeat throbbing harder beneath his feet, and the people could feel the muscles tighten beneath theirs.

"It comes!" Uaxac shouted excitedly. "You at the tip, move aside quickly. The rest of you keep moving, and remember that when he wakes, you must not show your fear!"

A long, low groan echoed from the god's throat. A tremor ran through his body and threw some of his worshippers off their feet. The gigantic penis throbbed visibly and rose upward, and then with a deafening bellow the god released. His seed roared forth in a torrent that sounded like an angry river. It seemed for an instant to hang in the air in a graceful white arc before it came crashing down upon his chest and throat. It splashed everywhere, leaving glistening strings dangling from the many strands of fur like spiderwebs on a dewy morning. Another stream burst forth a second later, the convulsions rocking the giant body and sending many of the worshippers tumbling. Huge pools quivered on the god's chest and belly as the ferocity of his climax increased, the streams blasting forth in a majestic display of godly might.

T'unu-kan shuddered hard as the last burst shot forth and splattered onto his belly. His head rolled weakly from side to side and then lifted abruptly. The god quickly sat up on his elbows; seed poured in rivulets toward the people as the immense torso tilted, and they scrambled frantically onto his legs to avoid being overwhelmed by the flood. Uaxac, still clinging to one of the vines stretched over the god's spent member, shouted to them to stay where they were, but mortal terror had overtaken them and they were now struggling feebly to escape through the thick fur. The god's eyes, wide and incredulous, stared for a moment at the tiny figures scrambling upon his body and then narrowed in anger. A mighty hand swept through the air, blocking out the sun, and fell hard upon some of them, smashing them like flies. It then swept sideways, gathering many others into a fist and lifting them into the sky. The god brought them to his face, bared his teeth angrily, and started to squeeze them.

Suddenly the fury faded from his eyes. There stood Uaxac, his arms outstretched, motionless upon the god's vast penis. His gaze was fixed steadily on T'unu-kan's. The god's eyes closed tightly and then opened, then closed even more tightly for several seconds, and opened again, the anger replaced by curiosity. The hand that clutched the struggling people began to relax. T'unu-kan glanced at it, then slowly turned his palm upward and opened his fingers.

"Be at peace," Uaxac called in a mighty voice. He did not take his eyes from the god's face, nor did his body flinch. "He will not harm you now. Trust in T'unu- kan."

Despite their terror, the people heeded Uaxac. Their frantic squirming ceased, and they huddled together in silence in the center of the god's huge palm he studied them closely. They were petrified, but one of them at last summoned enough strength to kneel. The others followed, falling to their knees and bowing their heads in anxious reverence. T'unu-kan's eyes widened in what seemed to be astonishment. He raised his hand to within inches of his nose, peering at the tiny people as though he were seeing them for the first time. After a moment he sat up straight, keeping his hand level, and turned his attention to the little man who was perched so bravely upon his member.

Uaxac still did not flinch as the god's other hand descended toward him, nor did he utter a sound as two enormous fingers pinched his body between them. The pressure was unbearable; the breath was squeezed from his lungs, and his ribs felt as though they were about to splinter like dry twigs. Despite the pain he did not struggle as he was hoisted dizzyingly into the air and brought before the god's eye. The great orb loomed ahead of him, gigantic, deep, the sun and Uaxac's own agonized face reflected in its surface.

He could not breathe. Sparks and shadows began to dance before his eyes.

The god spoke. From his mouth came a roar of thunder -- no words, only a booming growl that rang excruciatingly in Uaxac's ears. A few tense heartbeats passed during which the shadows leaping before Uaxac's eyes grew darker, and then the god's other hand descended suddenly. It tilted downward, spilling the people who had been huddled in its palm onto the ground; they tumbled off, bruised and battered but alive. Uaxac's consciousness had nearly slipped away as the huge hand rose up beneath him. The fingers that were crushing the life from him suddenly flew apart and he was falling. With a feeble grunt he landed upon the god's leathery palm and fell to his back. There he wheezed and choked as he gulped great breaths of air into his burning lungs.

Slowly the shadows cleared away from his eyes. He was aware of the god's breath rushing past him as he gathered his legs under him to kneel. T'unu-kan was staring him intently, his enormous eyes filled with wonder. Uaxac coughed a few times, his ribs aching from the god's brutal grip, and he somehow managed to smile. "Greetings, Great One," he panted into the looming face. "Your people pray ... that they have pleased you well."

T'unu-kan lowered his gaze to his belly, still moist with his seed, and then back to the tiny man in his palm. With one finger of his other hand he nudged a blunt, polished claw against Uaxac's chest. The violent shove made Uaxac stumble backward, but considering the immeasurable power that lay behind it, Uaxac considered the god's touch to be tender indeed. Regaining his balance, Uaxac took the claw between his hands, and then bowed his head and kissed it reverently.

Again the god spoke, the echoes of his voice crashing off of the distant hills. No words were formed in those bestial tones, but to Uaxac their meaning was unmistakable. T'unu-kan had accepted the gift of his people, and had judged them worthy. When his ears stopped ringing from the assault, Uaxac realized that he could once again hear the gentle music carried in the god's breath. The delicate and cheerful notes seemed to echo the tremendous joy that rose in Uaxac's heart.

The massive hand beneath him shifted and lurched as the god tucked his legs beneath him and then rose to his feet. Uaxac swayed and crouched to keep his balance, and realized that the god was looking past him, down at the ground. Dropping to all fours, Uaxac crawled as close as he dared to the edge of the god's hand and peered downward. He saw that the people had gathered in the clearing that served as the god's bed. They formed a great crowd around the god's feet, their faces all upturned and mouths open in breathless awe.

The god's gaze shifted from the little man in his hand to the multitude who swarmed beneath him and then back again. A smile spread across his muzzle. Slowly he crouched down, lowering his hand to the ground and tipping it. Uaxac obediently slid down the side of a huge finger and stepped back, joining the others in gazing upward as T'unu-kan rose to his full height above them. His vast body blocked the sun, casting every one of his new worshippers in his shadow as he gazed down upon them with satisfaction.

Then his weight shifted, and one immense foot rose into the sky. There was a low whooshing sound of the god's tail sweeping to the side for balance as his foot moved forward, hovering over the heads of his People. Uaxac met their startled cries with a commanding shout. "Peace!" he cried. "Do you forget your lessons so quickly?"

Trembling, their eyes darting between Uaxac and the looming paw, the people split into two groups and backed away, forming a wide, open aisle. T'unu-kan's smile broadened and he loosed a bellowing laugh that shook the forest to its roots. Obviously pleased with his People's obedience, the god stepped down, his foot landing with a shuddering crash in the gap they had made. His next step landed in the distance beyond the edge of the crowd. The mighty foot rose from their midst and rushed skyward. Four steps later, and the god's legs disappeared behind the trees; four more steps, and he was gone from their sight. Uaxac watched with a smile as the towering black form vanished past the treetops, and then turned to face the People. "T'unu-kan has given us...eh?"

To Uaxac's surprise they had all fallen to their knees and were bowing toward him. "Praise and blessings upon Uaxac, High Priest of T'unu-kan!" they cried with one voice.

"High priest? Me?" Uaxac was stunned for a moment, and then laughed loudly. "Oh, no, no!" he said. "Please, stand up. I am nothing of the sort."

"You are the chosen of T'unu-kan! You led us to his favor!" Some of them crawled forward and began to clutch at Uaxac's ankles. "You are one with the god!"

Uaxac shuffled his feet and tried to push their hands away. "But I am not," he protested. "Stop doing that."

"Praise and blessings upon Uaxac, High Priest..."

"Stop it!"

The ferocious shout instantly silenced the crowd. They cringed and covered their heads, all terrified that Uaxac would call down lightning from the heavens to strike them for their blasphemy. Uaxac stared at them, rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "Listen to me," he said in a much gentler voice. "I am not a priest, and I am certainly not a god. If you must call me something, call me 'Uaxac the Messenger.' I do not know why T'unu-kan chose me to carry his message to you. Maybe it was only because I was the first man that he saw." He smiled a little. "If I had failed in that task, I am certain that he would have thought nothing of eating me as well."

"You did not fail!" someone shouted.

Uaxac laughed. "And for that I am glad."

"Uaxac the Messenger!" the People shouted joyfully. "Tell us now what we must do!"

There was a profound silence. Dumbfounded, Uaxac suddenly realized that with the priests gone, the People expected him to be their leader now. Never in his life had he imagined he would be called to such a task. A fisherman knows only nets and tides, he thought. How can I be a leader? The priests themselves had filled that role for generations, preparing only their chosen successors for the tremendous responsibilities of government. The enormity of those responsibilities bore even heavier upon the shoulders of a mere fisherman, and the mere thought filled Uaxac with such dread that he began to tremble and stammer.

Then he remembered the music. The little tune, so simple and gentle and soothing, repeated itself over and over in his mind, and in his mind he felt once again the warmth of the god's breath upon his face. All at once his apprehension vanished and a smile returned to his lips. T'unu-kan's voice was too powerful for any meager human to understand, but the god had spoken to him without words through his music. Be calm, the delicate notes whispered to him. I have faith in you.

Uaxac took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "We shall return to the city," he said firmly. "Tomorrow we shall rebuild what was destroyed and mourn those who were lost; tonight, however, we must rejoice, for T'unu-kan has smiled upon us and accepted us at last as his own."

The People let out a great cheer and swept Uaxac the Messenger up onto their shoulders and carried him triumphantly, retracing the steps that he himself had taken when he had first brought the news of the god's birth to the incredulous ears of the departed priests.

A great feast was assembled before the temple. At Uaxac's command, those whose homes had been spared the god's wrath fetched their food stores to share with neighbors who had lost their own. Wine flowed like water, and many raised their voices to praise the Child of the Sun before draining their cups. Torches were lit as evening fell, and the celebration continued well into the night. The musicians played merry tunes with their flutes and strings. Uaxac moved among them, to the astonishment and delight of a People whose priests had always shunned the masses. He spent much time with those who had been wounded, offering them the god's tender apologies for having to endure such a harsh lesson. They accepted the words of the Messenger with grace, and some even with joy. One man who had drunk a lot of wine proudly told and retold the tale of how he had fallen beneath the curve of a giant toe and been spared without a bruise; the story grew more exciting, of course, as the man toasted his blessing after each telling.

The music faltered as one of the musicians abruptly dropped his instrument and jumped to his feet. The other musicians did the same, their flutes clattering to the ground as they followed their brother's gaze into the nighttime sky. One by one the People raised their heads and fell silent, until there was not a sound to be heard in the temple courtyard.

The sky above was filled with stars all around, except for one dark swath in which no stars could be seen. The patch of blackness rose high above the ridge in the vast shape of T'unu- kan. High above, two luminous eyes shone like small moons, reflecting the firelight.

Uaxac looked around and saw fear creeping into the eyes of his People. Rising to his feet, he called out heartily, "T'unu-kan watches over us. We are, after all, his People now. Remember what he taught us today." With that he fell to his knees, faced the god and bowed his head. All of the People did, too, even though here and there Uaxac could hear a few frightened voices whispering to one another. His thoughts turned to Nukokul and the terrible fate that had befallen him, and he prayed that none of the People would be as foolish.

All was quiet. Uaxac raised his eyes in time to see the great glowing orbs turn away and wink out. The massive silhouette of the god glided across the dome of stars and disappeared beyond the ridge. The earth quivered underfoot as T'unu-kan settled into his bed for the night, then all again was quiet.

Uaxac's spirit soared, for indeed the People had learned well. "Play!" he said to the musicans. "But softly, though. We must not disturb our god's slumber."

The minstrels nodded and hurried to gather up their instruments. The People rose to their feet again and began to whisper excitedly to one another. Then, a great number of them clustered around Uaxac. "You have saved us all," one of them said, staring reverently at Uaxac. "We are at your command." Some of them reached forward to tug at his hair and to lay their hands upon his skin, their faces glowing with ecstasy at the mere touch. "Tell us what the god wishes of us, O Messenger of T'unu-kan!"

Uaxac fidgeted uncomfortably. He had been enjoying the celebration, but once again he found himself forced to confront the daunting task of leading a People who had never known anything but herdlike obedience to the commands of their elite. He resented the responsibility. He wanted to say, "Do what you would usually do at this hour," but then a small voice whispered into his mind, an unheard voice singing words of encouragement and confidence and wisdom, echoing the celestial music of T'unu-kan.

Uaxac relaxed and stopped trying to push away the people who were pawing at him. "Gather those whose homes are gone," he said sagely. "Bring them here and give them blankets. They will be safe in the courtyard. Everyone else should sleep soundly tonight, for tomorrow we will need our strength to begin rebuilding our homes."

The People nodded in agreement and all of them bowed to Uaxac. That made him more uncomfortable than ever. "You do not need to do that," he complained. "We should bow only to the god, not to each other." The People, however, did not seem to be listening, and continued bowing and fawning over him, much to his dismay. Several men stepped forward, elbowing their way past the sycophants, and grinned broadly at him. "Come!" they said excitedly. "We have prepared your chambers."

"My chambers?" Uaxac said, puzzled.

"Come and see!"

The men gathered around Uaxac and marched him proudly into the temple. Down the grand hall and through the audience chamber they led him, and finally into the sanctum of the High Priest. In that room rested a massive bed covered with a blanket of finely spun linen that looked as soft as a feather. It was surrounded by a great oaken banister inlaid with gold. The bed itself looked to be bigger than the hut that Uaxac had lived in by the sea. "What is all this?" he sputtered.

"This is your bed, Father!" one of the men said eagerly. "A bed fit for the High Priest of T'unu- kan."

Uaxac simply stood and stared for a few moments, and then he chuckled and shook his head. The men frowned and looked at one another uncertainly, their eyes beginning to look worried. "What is it, Father?" one of them said in a meek voice.

"Do not call me Father," Uaxac replied, still chuckling. "My name is Uaxac, and this bed is not for me. Take it out and give it to someone who has nothing else to sleep on tonight. Bring me a palette of straw and a blanket instead."

"But...but that is not fit for a priest!"

"No," Uaxac said gently, "it is not. But T'unu-kan did not choose a priest to lead you, did he? He chose a fisherman, and so a fisherman I must remain." He patted each of the men on their shoulders. "You are all very kind and I am touched by your devotion, but I have told you before, I am merely the messenger. If you wish to honor me, then go and tell everyone that I am a man, and that they are to treat me no differently than they would any other.

"Now go and do as I ask. We have much to do in the morning and we shall all need our rest."

As soon as the sun's first rays brightened the sky Uaxac was awake, and within moments he had dressed and was on his way into the city. Before long he had roused a large group of men to help clear away the rubble of the buildings that T'unu-kan had destroyed, and also to bury the dead that were uncovered from beneath fallen roofs. Reality began to temper the adoration for the god that had been so professed during the celebration as more and more mangled, lifeless bodies were uncovered. More than once, Uaxac had to stop the work when he heard someone muttering angry curses. "What are you saying?" he would scold. "Do you think that T'unu- kan did this on purpose? Do you mean to tell me now that you yourself have never stepped on an anthill?"

No one, of course, could look into Uaxac's eyes and answer that question. "That is what our houses were to him," he would explain gently, "and we were merely the ants. Thankfully, he knows now who and what we are. Surely you can not fault him for what we ourselves failed to make him understand."

His words quieted the grumblings, but they made Uaxac's heart heavy. He understood the misery of those who had lost their homes and some of them their families, but why could they not understand that the death and destruction had been necessary for the god's lesson to be learned? Uaxac decided that he could not expect the People to forget the god's terrible rampage, especially when so many had died in such horrible ways, but he was determined that they would forgive T'unu-kan. That is why, when everyone was busy working to clear the rubble, he slipped away from the city and made his way over the hill to where the god made his bed.

T'unu-kan was just beginning to stir when Uaxac strode into the clearing. The gigantic form rolled and stretched, muscles rippling like waves on a black ocean. The god sat up and yawned enormously, then rubbed at his eyes. His hand moved to the amulet he wore at his neck and his ears swiveled forward. For a moment he was silent, listening, and then he lowered his head, and to Uaxac it seemed as though the god were saddened.

Uaxac cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Great One," he called. "Your little servant begs to speak to you."

T'unu-kan did not pay attention. He swung his legs forward and sat up, stretching again, his great tail sweeping high in the air behind him and curling gracefully. He licked at his lips and scratched behind one ear with a claw. Uaxac tried again. "T'unu-kan!" he shouted. "Your servant wishes to speak to you, if you would grant him an audience."

Slowly the giant stood and raised his eyes heavenward. Again he fingered his amulet as he studied the morning sky, and then he lowered his gaze and sighed deeply. Uaxac waited for what he felt was a suitably respectful moment, and then ventured. "Great One, your devoted People forgive you for the severity of your lesson, but they are saddened by their losses. Perhaps it would cheer their hearts if you were to -- "

A massive foot rose and swept through the air toward Uaxac. The black pads on its underside loomed into view and then rushed down at him. Before Uaxac could move the god's toes crashed down to the earth barely inches away. One of the black claws scraped painfully along his arm, leaving long red lines along its entire length. The tremendous impact threw him helplessly into the air. He landed hard atop the claw and bounced backward, the wind knocked from him.

Slowly the giant lowered his head. His eyes fell coldly upon the tiny man who lay gasping in his shadow. Even more slowly he crouched down and rested one forearm casually on his knee, his gaze stabbing into Uaxac and burning him with its ferocity.

Wheezing, Uaxac struggled to his knees and fell forward, his head bowed. "Forgive me, Mighty T'unu-kan!" he sputtered. "Your servant forgot his place!"

There was no reply, only the deep rumble of the god's breathing. Terror crashed through Uaxac's belly and he cursed himself for his vanity. It was unforgiveable! What insolence, what arrogance to believe that a lowly insect such as himself might tell the great T'unu-kan what to do! Uaxac tore at the ground before him with his fingers and struck his forehead against it. "I am a worm, unworthy even to beg your forgiveness," he sobbed. "I will never again presume that the Child of the Sun would need my counsel, nor will I ever question your wisdom. Your People bow to your will -- I beg of you, do not punish them for the pride of this foolish fisherman!"

He clenched his jaw and waited to be smitten, certain that the god would want to kill him for his crime. The rhythm of the thundering breaths continued unchanged above him, though. Beneath the steady rumble, Uaxac began to hear the whispered notes of the god's celestial song. The delicate notes chimed just at the edge of Uaxac's hearing, murmuring their sweet reassurances to him. Tearfully he raised his eyes.

T'unu-kan had not moved. He was staring fixedly at the little man kneeling before his foot, but when Uaxac lifted his head he saw that the god's gaze held no anger; in fact, a smile was stretched across his muzzle, and the light in his eyes danced with amusement. Relieved, Uaxac crawled forward and embraced the enormous claw that lay before him, pressing his cheek adoringly against it. "Your mercy is not misspent, Mighty One," he whispered shakily. "I swear I shall never doubt your wisdom again. I do not question that you know what is in the hearts of your People, and that you will deal with them as you see fit."

The god reached down. Like a leathery wall a fingertip swept up beside Uaxac, who drew a sharp breath and waited for the crushing pressure of the god's grip. Instead, the great finger paused, and then retreated. T'unu-kan's immense hand settled down beside Uaxac, its palm open invitingly. Uaxac was amazed. His spirits soared, and without a second thought he darted forward and scrambled upon it.

His stomach lurched as he rose abruptly into the air. The sudden movement drove him to his knees, made him dizzy. He could see the bulk of T'unu-kan's belly and chest rushing past him, and then his watering eyes were filled with the overwhelming presence of the god's face. Uaxac felt he should avert his gaze, but he was transfixed. He could only stare incredulously at the enormity of T'unu-kan's muzzle, and his dark and deep eyes looming beyond it. The corners of his mouth drew upwards, and the leathery surface beneath Uaxac suddenly pitched and rocked as the god gathered his legs beneath him and stood up. A clawed finger appeared over the dark horizon of the god's hand and swept alarmingly toward Uaxac, making him cringe. It seemed as though it would crash into him and send him hurtling over the edge of the hand and down to his doom, but as it reached him it slowed down and then halted, as it had when the god had last held him this way. The finger rolled onto its side and reached behind him, its warm black pad bumping against Uaxac's back and making him stumble forward a step. It slid roughly up and down, a jostling and uncomfortable feeling, but Uaxac knew that the god was being once again as gentle as his vast size allowed. The privilege of T'unu-kan's tender caress made Uaxac feel faint, and it was all he could do to remain upright while the big finger brushed and bumped against him.

After a while the god's finger drew back, and Uaxac relaxed, smiling. "I am honored to have the attention of the mighty T'unu-kan..."

A blast of hot air struck him suddenly, accompanied by a growling grunt that nearly shook him apart. Stunned, he fell back on his buttocks. The gutteral sound came again, and this time the claw of the god's finger jabbed him from the side. "I don't understand," Uaxac said hoarsely. The god's voice roared in his ears a third time, the same gravelly exclamation, and the finger nudged against his side. Not knowing what else to do, Uaxac fell upon his face and groveled.

The god chuckled, and again the pad of his finger stroked Uaxac's back, a little more gently than before. Uaxac raised his head, only to be met with the same thundering roar and a shove from the god's finger on his back. Realization dawned upon him in a sudden and ecstatic wave: T'unu-kan had granted him a name, his own celestial name! He gasped and stared slack-jawed, barely able to comprehend the magnitude of the honor that had been bestowed upon him, his body rocking to and fro with the force of the god's caress. T'unu-kan again bellowed his name; Uaxac quickly threw his arms forward and bowed his head low to show that he understood.

The god smiled broadly, his dark eyes warm with satisfaction. The hand in which Uaxac knelt began to move, gliding through the air and coming to rest against the god's shoulder. Uaxac's heart raced wildly at the extraordinary invitation, and with quivering hands he gripped one of the thick strands of fur and scrambled up. It was like being in a wheat field, but the "wheat" was smooth and warm and dense and wonderful. Uaxac half-climbed, half-swam through the pelt, pulling himself higher along the god's shoulder until he found what seemed to be a safe perch. There he could sit in comfort, though tightly clutching a few strands on either side of him, and look out upon the world as Tu'unu-kan saw it.

Such an astounding view! Uaxac was so overwhelmed that he found it hard to breathe. The entire world stretched before him, the treetops far below looking more like moss growing on a rock. He could see far-away mountains that would have taken him many days to reach on foot, and beyond them other mountains that Uaxac had never known were there. The sea lay upon the horizon, so close that Uaxac felt he could touch it, and no doubt T'unu-kan could have done so if he had wanted to. Colorful birds swarmed around the god's legs far below, their squawking lost to the distance. The incredible sights, and the undreamed-of privilege of T'unu-kan's favor made Uaxac giddy. Even though perching at such an awesome height might at another time have frightened him to death, he felt absolutely invincible upon the god's broad shoulder.

Beneath him the immense muscles shifted as T'unu-kan began walking. The first step jarred Uaxac violently and for a tense few seconds he feared he might fall. Frantically clutching at the god's fur, he pulled his legs up under him and squatted instead of sitting. It was an awkward posture, but it allowed his legs to absorb the impact of the god's footfalls. It also allowed him to stand a little and peer downward. Far below he could see the god's powerful leg swinging forward, the foot rushing down upon the trees ahead and pushing them down flat, like meadowgrass. He soon grew accustomed to the rhythm of the god's stride, his body bouncing along with it as he was carried along.

Uaxac wondered where he was being taken. The god's path seemed aimless and uncertain. He stopped many times and stooped to examine something on the ground or to tear a tree up by its roots and feast upon its branches. Each time the great beast crouched, the little man on his shoulder had to hold on tightly.

T'unu-kan paid little attention to his passenger except for the occasional glance, and once he reached up to stroke Uaxac briefly with a finger during one of the many pauses in his wandering. Of course, Uaxac did not mind. It was enough for him to be permitted to accompany T'unu-kan on his journey and to listen to the gentle music that floated upon the god's breath. But...then, wasn't that odd? The quiet notes were not coming from the god's mouth after all. They seemed to be rising from below. Uaxac turned his head this way and that and listened hard. The song was coming from the god's throat -- no! Scurrying higher on the shoulder, Uaxac discovered that the music was actually arising from the gleaming gem that the god wore about his neck. It was a little disenchanting to learn that the celestial music did not come from the god himself, but Uaxac decided that it was no less a wonder to possess a jewel that could sing. He watched as the big gem bobbed against the god's throat, and found himself wondering if it was actually a piece of the sun itself. Perhaps someday, if he were obedient and led his People well, T'unu-kan would let him touch it.

A low ridge lay before them -- rather, it looked low from Uaxac's vantage point. It would no doubt have been a troublesome climb for Uaxac on the ground, but T'unu-kan stepped easily over it as though it were merely a fallen log. Beyond it Uaxac was surprised to see a city very similar to his own. He had never imagined that a city could have been built so far from the sea. The streets below were alive with activity, tiny humans rushing this way and that, the whole thing looking from so high up like an anthill that had been disturbed.

An anthill! An icy hand gripped Uaxac's heart, and then squeezed even tighter as he felt the god quicken his stride. His own People had learned the bitter lesson of T'unu- kan, that to worship him was the only way to become a person in his eyes; below, however, were hundreds of strangers who had never been taught the ways of the god. Their thin screams floated up toward Uaxac's ears. Their scurrying and scrambling made them appear like so many mindless insects...

...and this, Uaxac realized with horror, was exactly how T'unu-kan saw them.

Continue to Chapter 3...