Clawing my way back! Now over 40K words. 2/3rds of the way there!
The Banshee stiffened. “La, Vargas,” she hissed. Actually hissed. “Where did you get that filthy thing?”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that reaction. I looked at the club again. It didn’t look any more ominous than before. “Somebody tried to slice me open with it.”
“They didn’t. The bastard got away, though. At least he left this behind. So, what is it?”
She wearily shook her head. “First, it’s a macuahuitl. The ancient Aztecs used them to kill or knock out their opponents. Second, that’s old enough to be an actual one, not just a copy. Third, it reeks of death energy. Fourth, you’re a priest. How can you not feel that? Fifth, how is it that you don’t recognize a macuahuitl? The Aztecs came from Mexico!”
I took a deep breath. “Okay, in order. First and second, thanks for the explanation. Third and fourth, I ain’t a Christian priest. They’re our go-to guys for demonic crap. And fifth?” I shrugged. “There ain’t much about the Aztecs in the Lore. They had pyramids, wore feathers, and cut out people’s hearts, right? Oh, and then they got killed off by another bunch of bastards, who then lost all their money to pirates. I can tell you a lot about the pirates, at least.”
“The mythology of this place never fails to fascinate me,” the Banshee muttered.