Chasing Power (10 page)

Calves aching, she stopped to catch her breath about three quarters of the way up. Really, it hadn’t looked like such a long climb when she’d called Daniel “chicken.” Now, she was wishing for an elevator. Looking down, she noticed a man was climbing too—not the same man who had yelled at her to come down. This man wore a hat like Indiana Jones’s that shielded his face
entirely. The man who had yelled was at the base of the temple, with a cluster of people. From their gestures, they looked as if they were arguing. Maybe the man in the hat had been sent to bring her down. Or maybe he was another renegade tourist. Regardless, she couldn’t let him catch up to her. Feeling exposed, Kayla climbed faster. Where was a helpful teleporting boy when you needed one?

At least she was almost there. She saw the doorway above her, wide as an open mouth. With a burst of fresh energy, Kayla scurried up the last few steps and ducked inside. She was instantly swallowed by shadows. She waited for her eyes to adjust.

It was a small room. A shrine. There was a stone altar in the middle, its surface scratched and stained. Carvings, faded and chipped, covered the walls. But what caught Kayla’s attention was a black grate on the floor, locked down with a large combination lock.

She knelt next to it. Beneath the grate were stone steps, headed down into the temple. “Bingo,” she murmured. “And I win a day of ‘I told you so’s.’ ” She reached for her phone to tell Daniel what she’d found—and realized they’d never exchanged numbers.
Stupid
, she thought. But too late now. It wouldn’t take long for the man with the hat to finish his climb too. If she wanted to explore without interference, this was her chance.

Kayla concentrated on the lock for a moment. Pressing with her mind, she engaged the three cams inside, and the lock snapped open. She loved combo locks. So straightforward.

Lifting up the grate, she started down the stairs. Stopping, she lowered the grate back into place above her. She then reached her hand through a hole in the grate and reattached the lock. Let the man wonder where she went.

She took her lighter out of her pocket, flipped it open, and lit it. The flame cast dancing shadows on the wall as she walked down the stairs, and Kayla wondered if she was the first person who wasn’t either an ancient Maya or a modern archaeologist to be here. She had to walk slowly—the steps were covered with sand and pebbles. She steadied herself with one hand on the wall. It felt chalky, coated in ancient dust. She hoped her touch wouldn’t damage the intricate, orange-tinted murals. Chunks had fallen off or faded, but many faces, figures, and glyphs remained. Most featured the profile of a man with a sloped forehead, prominent nose, and plump lips. He wore an elaborate headdress and chunky jewelry like you’d find at an estate sale. Some of the carvings showed him seated in front of what looked like altars. Others depicted him in battle, spear raised, with victims writhing at the bottom of the scene. Kayla felt as if she were walking into the past. Studying the murals, she slowed—and thought she heard the scrape of metal on stone.

Halting, she listened.

She heard nothing. No scrape. No footsteps. It must have been her imagination. She was still alone, and anyway, the grate was locked. Reminding herself to breathe again, she continued down. The steps were even steeper than outside, and she had to feel each one with her toes before lowering her full weight. Some of the steps were partially crumbled, and at times, she had to cling to the wall.

The stairs led to a chamber—a tomb. She saw faces of long-ago kings on the walls, and she tasted air so stale that it could have been as old as those kings. Her lungs felt coated in old dust, the same as the walls. Lifting the flame with her mind, she scanned the ceiling, searching for the shaft that Daniel’s mother
had described. The ceiling was carved in intricate glyphs but there was no shaft.

Returning to the stairs, she continued deeper down into the temple until she reached a second chamber. Here, the walls were braced with wood posts, and she wondered how safe this was. Tons of stone surrounded her, held together by ancient mortar or maybe merely gravity. Moonbeam wouldn’t be happy she was here. But then, Moonbeam wouldn’t be happy unless Kayla were safely stuffed in a padded box.

No shaft in the second tomb either. Kayla returned to the stairs again.

Above her, Kayla heard a soft crunch, as if pebbles had shifted—a footstep? She wrapped her mind around the flame from the lighter and sent it up the steps. She didn’t see anyone. Burning through its bubble of fuel, the flame died, leaving her in darkness.

In the darkness, silence spread through the tomb. It was the most complete silence she’d ever heard: no cars, no wind, no voices, no breath other than her own. Instead, the silence felt thick, as if a blanket were wrapped tightly around her. She listened to the darkness. Her heart beating faster, she flicked the lighter on again, cupped the fragile flame with her mind, and continued down.

She wondered how long the lighter could last—the fuel wasn’t infinite. It occurred to her that she hadn’t thought this through. She wondered where Daniel was and where he thought she was. Maybe she should have insisted he come with her. Or at least let him know she’d found a way in. On the plus side, he would be impressed when she returned with the two stones.
If
she returned with them.

The likelihood of the two stones still being in the temple at
all was low. After all, one stone had already been found. The others could have been found, then chucked into the ocean or lost in the jungle or buried in the earth or stuck inside someone’s closet. She wondered if that had occurred to Daniel. She hoped she didn’t have to tell him the stones were lost. She might not like the jerk, but she didn’t want to see the hope fade in his eyes. He’d looked so bereft when she hadn’t known who the queen was. Like him or not (and she decidedly did
not
), she didn’t want to see that look in his eyes again.

Kayla stepped into a third chamber, this one much smaller than the other two, about the size of a bathroom. Almost the entire room was filled by a stone sarcophagus. Its lid was covered in elaborate designs, including a man on a stylized throne, receiving gifts of food and animals. Above it, she thought she saw a shadow in the ceiling—possibly the shaft? Climbing onto the sarcophagus lid, she stood up and raised the lighter over her head.

“Yes!” she whispered.

Her voice was like a pebble dropped into a dark pool. It radiated out, echoing, until the shadows swallowed it. She froze again, listening for any other sound, but there was nothing.

This place fit the description from Dr. Sanders’s paper perfectly: a chamber too small to maneuver a ladder and a shaft too narrow to fit a climber. She sent the flame from the lighter up, but it wasn’t bright enough to illuminate all the way and it fizzled fast.

With her mind, Kayla reached up. She “felt” the walls of the shaft, and pebbles and dirt rained down as her mental touch loosened them. Higher, higher … And there they were, exactly as Daniel’s mother had described: glyphs, carved in stone, high above her. She’d found them!

If she was right, the stones should be behind them. It occurred to her that she might not be strong enough to retrieve them. She might have come all this way only to fail as completely as the ladderless archaeologists. She felt along the glyphs, looking for a hole in the wall …

And the lighter went out.

Darkness closed around her so completely that it felt as if her eyes had been stolen. She flicked the lighter. Nothing. She tried again. Still nothing. It was dead. She didn’t move. Rigid, she listened, as if listening could restore her sight. Her heartbeat felt loud.
Don’t panic
, she ordered herself.
Do
not
panic
. She had her phone. Its screen could make light. Pulling it out of her pocket, she turned it on.

Low battery. She’d told Moonbeam she’d charged it. She must have forgotten to actually do it. After a moment of staring at its soothing bluish light, she turned it off. She’d save it for the climb out.

She didn’t need light to do what she had to do. Taking a breath, feeling as if she were breathing in the darkness itself, Kayla concentrated on the glyphs. She ran the fingers of her mind over the surface of the wall, tracing the curves of the carvings. Dr. Sanders’s paper had said the glyphs marked a small hole … but she didn’t feel one. Her heart sank. She’d been so sure! But she only felt—ahh, there it was, a hole in the heart of one of the glyphs.

Concentrating, she burrowed her mind in through the narrow hole. Her skull felt squeezed. She touched cobwebs and … a spider skittered over her mind, and it felt like every inch of her skin was crawling with a thousand spiders. Shrieking, she yanked her mind back. She wiped hard at her arms and her legs.
No spiders on you
, she told herself.
You’re fine
.

She took a deep breath and tried again. Reaching up, she touched the glyphs and dove into the hole. Cringing, she touched the spider and then felt through the cobwebs. Her mind touched a piece of rolled parchment. “Hello, you,” she whispered to it.

Gently, Kayla guided it out of the hole and down the shaft. She held out her hands, and it landed as lightly as a tame bird.

It felt so very brittle, as if it would crumble into dust if she breathed heavily. Sitting on the floor, she pulled out her phone and used its light to study it as she slowly, carefully unrolled it. The edges crumbled, and the parchment cracked. She stopped, took a breath, and then continued until it lay open. It was covered in faint glyphs. Afraid it would disintegrate as she looked at it, she snapped a photo with her phone.

It certainly wasn’t one of the spell stones. But maybe it was a clue to how to find them, like a map or a set of directions. Or maybe she’d stumbled on an entirely different mystery that would lead her to the fountain of youth and a very, very old Ponce de León. Or it could be a forbidden love note or secret plans to a battle station … At least she’d been right about one thing: there was no question that it had been left for someone like her.

Taking off her backpack, she stowed the parchment carefully inside. As she zipped it closed, she heard a voice. A man, speaking a spell. Melodious words flowed through her, filling the chamber, seeming to echo from every direction. Kayla jumped to her feet. “Who’s there?” She held out her phone. Bluish light filled the chamber. She didn’t see anyone. She spun around. “Where are you? What are you doing?”

Suddenly, the chamber flooded with light so bright that it stung her eyes. She threw her hands over her face. Just as suddenly, the light disappeared. White spots danced over her eyes
for a long minute, and then they slowly, painfully faded. She turned on the phone again, but in comparison, her faint light only faded the darkness to a lighter black. Her heart thudded so hard that it almost hurt. As she peered into the empty shadows, she knelt to pick up her backpack …

And it was gone.

It couldn’t be gone. She’d left it at her feet. It should be right here! Dropping to her knees, she felt around. She felt only floor. Jumping back up, she shined the phone in every direction. Dim light danced over the walls. He must have taken it. Whoever cast that spell must have used her temporary blindness to steal her pack with the rings and the cash and the parchment.
She
was the thief here. She wasn’t supposed to be the victim. “Hey, you! Thief! Give it back!”

Kayla ran for the stairs. He couldn’t have gone far. She pounded up the steps, higher and higher. The phone bounced in her hand as she ran, and the light jumped everywhere. Her side cramped, and her calves strained as she ran up, up, and up, past the second chamber, past the first. She didn’t see anyone ahead of her. She didn’t hear anyone either. But someone had been here! Someone had cast that spell and stolen her pack!

Above, she saw a square of daylight.

The grate was open.

She’d left it closed.

She heard a rumble, and the walls shook. She was thrown against a mural. The plaster cracked, and dirt rained down. Blocking her face with her arms, she ducked. Dust filled the cave, and she coughed. And when the rumbling stopped, she was in darkness.

Kayla spat out dirt as she felt for the stairs in front of her. Her hands hit rocks. Her mind was shrieking,
No no no no no no no!
Crawling forward, she felt rocks jamming the stairs. She took a breath to scream for help. And then she stopped.

Someone had caused this cave-in.

He could still be there.

She needed to find her phone. She’d call Selena. She’d know what to do, maybe have some miraculous solution for how to warn Daniel and tell him he had to pop her out of here. Or she could call 9-1-1 and explain she was trapped in a Maya tomb … except that they’d never believe her and there was no way she’d have cell service anyway.

Still, she could use the phone’s light to help her search for another way out. Kneeling, she felt the rocks in the darkness. It had to be nearby, unless a rock had fallen on it and it was crushed, buried beneath the rubble.

Kayla tried to take a deep, calming breath, but the air was still clogged with dust, and she coughed so hard that she felt like she was going to expel her insides. Dust coated her arms,
face, and tongue. Maybe there wasn’t enough air. Maybe she was slowly suffocating.

Stop it
, she ordered herself. This was a very large pyramid. There should be plenty of oxygen. She had to calm down and find the phone in the same way she’d found the parchment.

Lowering herself, she sat cross-legged on the fallen stones. She reached out with her mind and “felt” around her. She wouldn’t be able to lift the phone when she found it—too heavy—but she should be able to locate it and then fetch it the normal way.

Slowly, she worked over the rocks on the steps. She skimmed over the rough surfaces and swept over the jagged edges. So many rocks. She didn’t let herself think about what if it was crushed, what if it was underneath the rocks, what if she never found it, what if no one ever found her …
Focus, Kayla
. She pushed her mind farther and deeper, in between the crevasses of the rocks. Rocks and dust. Just rocks and dust.