Curse of the Ancients (12 page)

Sera tried to think up something lighthearted to say back, to at least pretend things were normal, but her mind drew a blank. Every time she looked at Dak she remembered turning over the bodies of his dead parents. And that made her remember the faces of her own dead parents, too. And her uncle Diego.

Dak pulled the SQuare out of Riq’s satchel, shaking his head. He turned on the power. “Nobody has a sense of humor anymore,” he said, typing something on the keyboard. “What we’re doing isn’t easy. I understand that. But we have to keep our composure, right? I mean, we have a fairly important job to do.” He looked up at Sera. “We have to save the world.”

Sera wiped her tearstained face on the arm of her
huipil
and said, “I’m pretty sure we’re all aware of that, Dak. Just cut us some slack.”

Dak motioned toward Riq with his thumb and said, “I saw what happened to the Riq-ster over here. His girlfriend or whatever tried to give him a parting gift — a locket or something — but he dropped it. Isn’t that right, Riq?”

Sera watched Riq turn to Dak, scowling.

Dak was oblivious, of course. “See, that’s why I tell all my bros back home to steer clear of the lovey-dovey stuff. It’s asking for trouble, dude. You want my advice? If you absolutely
have
to interact with the opposite sex, make sure it’s with a girl you can treat like one of the guys. Like Sera.” He kicked at her with one of his feet.

“Wow,” Sera said. “That’s so . . . sweet of you.” Sera might’ve slugged Dak in the ribs if she hadn’t just remembered finding his dead and bloated parents during the Cataclysm.

Riq stood up suddenly. Without saying a word he walked away.

“Hey!” Dak called after him. “You can’t leave! It’s going to be dark soon! And we’re supposed to stick together!”

Riq didn’t even turn around.

“Riq!” Sera shouted, but he’d already rounded the corner of the new observatory, out of sight. She turned to Dak. “You happy now?”

“Was it something I said?”

Sera rolled her eyes. “When is it
not
something you said?”

“I was just offering the guy a little romantic guidance.” Dak shook his head. “Some people are too sensitive.”

“We should go after him,” Sera said. She stood up and looked around to try to get her bearings. It was odd seeing all the things that had changed. The updated huts and new trees and paved streets. But at the same time, everything felt so familiar.

“Fine,” Dak said. “But first let’s look at the latest riddle I just pulled up.” Dak turned the SQuare around so Sera could read the screen:

To save the reproduction of the treasure’s truth, do the following:

Seek the help of those who follow “the most important thing in the world”

Then dig deep, deeper, deepest, unlocking a long-locked door

It will take a polyglot to understand the wisdom of the glyphs

and the forgery of the curse

Sera read it twice and then she stood back up, shaking her head. “I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I.”

She wasn’t surprised the difficulty of the riddles was increasing. She knew that the Hystorians hadn’t had time to completely program the SQuare. Things were more vague now. The further they got into the Breaks, the less information they would have.

“What the heck is ‘the most important thing in the world’?” Dak said.

Sera shook her head. “No idea.”

“It seems like an extension of the first riddle, though,” Dak said. “Both talk about truth and the treasure and the curse.”

“The ‘treasure’ is the codex,” Sera said. “We know that much.”

“And the curse is about the Cataclysm described in the Great Mayan Codex.”

Sera just looked at Dak for a few long seconds. “According to Pacal, there was never any mention of a Cataclysm in his codex.”

“None?”

Sera shook her head, trying not to think about what
she
knew about the Cataclysm.

“And what does the riddle mean by a ‘reproduction’?” Dak asked. “I still wonder if we should’ve just taken Pacal’s codex with us.”

Sera was having trouble concentrating now. She’d stare at the words “unlocking a long-locked door” and all of a sudden she’d find herself remembering the Cataclysm again. Her flooded barn. The bodies she had to turn over.

“A
polyglot
has something to do with language, right?” Dak said.

“I’m not sure,” Sera said. “But I know someone who would. We really need to go find Riq. We should all be doing this together. And that means you might have to go easy on him for a little while.”

“I guess you’re right,” Dak said, standing up. He looked at Sera. “You know, I really did see him drop a piece of jewelry that Snake Girl had just given him.”

Sera had seen the way Riq looked at Kisa. It couldn’t have been easy for him to say good-bye. “You missed a few things while you were recovering in the cave,” she said.

“I figured as much.”

They started walking around the corner of the observatory, in the direction they’d seen Riq go. As soon as they rounded the corner, Sera nearly ran right into a teenage boy. It wasn’t Riq, though. It was a Mayan boy who had a large bag slung over his left shoulder. He wore an outfit similiar to Dak’s.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she said, her translator device kicking in to match his dialect.

He straightened his bag and said, “Well, have a nice evening.” He started to leave, but then turned around and looked over Sera and Dak for a few seconds, noting their attire, before saying, “A bunch of us are meeting in the cave in a little while. If you’re interested in practicing the old ways.”

“Maybe we’ll join you,” Dak said.

Sera and Dak watched the boy hurry along the path that Sera remembered led out of the village and up toward the cave. Dak poked her on the shoulder and said, “A bunch of Mayas racing off to the cave. Isn’t this exactly how things started off last time?”

“It is,” Sera said, but she had a sneaking suspicion that the cave served a much different function in 1562.

T
HE WARPING
that seemed so hard on everyone else was practically therapeutic for Dak. He couldn’t believe how much better he felt as he and Sera continued to wander the village in search of Riq. Only a few days ago — well, a few days ago plus a millennium — a wall had fallen on his head. How many people had had an actual stone wall fall on their head? The number had to be fairly low. And Dak was just walking around like it was nothing. He had to admit, it was a little superhero-esque.

“I’m back, baby,” he muttered under his breath.

And being back meant fixing the Breaks, saving the world — all of it hopefully leading to a heartfelt reunion with his parents that would be shown live on some kind of morning news show. And, no, he wouldn’t be rocking the breechcloth on national TV.

“I don’t see Riq anywhere,” Sera said as they moved down a less crowded village path, about a hundred yards from the observatory.

Dak stopped walking and surveyed the scene. The huts were more modern now and slightly larger. And they were packed in more tightly. He turned to Sera. “Dude, we have to start thinking like the guy. Where would you go if you were in love with a charming snake charmer who’s been deceased for approximately a millennium?”

Sera shot him a disapproving look.

“What?” Dak said. “I’m trying to put myself in the mind of the missing.”

“Not funny.” Sera started walking again.

“You have to admit,” Dak said, following her. “It was pretty wild what she did with all those snakes.”

Sera picked up a rock, tossed it down the path in front of them. “All I know is we were lucky to get out of there alive.”

“I’ll give you that.” Dak watched another small group of Mayas hurry past with bags slung over their shoulders — all of them glancing back down the road behind them, like they were doing something they weren’t supposed to. It suddenly occurred to Dak how much these people’s lives must have changed since the arrival of the Spanish. One thing was for sure, Dak no longer viewed the Maya as untrustworthy. History hadn’t given them nearly enough credit — which made him wonder what else history had gotten wrong.

“What do you think that sculpture symbolizes?” Sera asked, motioning toward the one in front of a stone wall that surrounded a small cluster of huts. It looked like a face partially covered by a net or scales. “I’ve seen it in a few different places now.”

“I’ve seen it, too,” Dak said. “My guess is it reads
In Honor of Dak Smyth, Our Eternal Hero
.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Sera scoffed.

“Because of, you know, how I saved that little girl or whatever. You saw all the flowers and food they left me, right?”

Sera rolled her eyes.

Another group of Mayas passed by, slightly larger than the one before. “Excuse me,” Sera said to the last young woman. She pointed at the sculpture. “Do you know what that means?”

“Of course,” the woman said, backpedaling as she spoke to Sera. “It’s the secret symbol of friendship.”

“Secret symbol of friendship?” Dak said. “That’s weird. If it’s so secret, why’s it in so many different places?”

The woman looked Dak up and down. It was clear she hadn’t noticed him when she’d spoken to Sera. “I’m sorry, but we’re actually in a hurry,” the woman said. She turned back around and jogged a few steps to catch up with her friends.

Dak looked at Sera. “Clearly, she was intimidated by my imposing physique.”

“That’s probably what it was,” Sera said. “Why don’t you let me do the talking from now on?”

Dak shrugged. He had to admit that Sera did a better job of blending in here. “Suit yourself. Anyway, it sure seems like a lot of people are heading up to the cave. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“What?”

“That we should follow them, check out what’s going on?”

Sera put her hands on her hips and looked away from Dak for a few seconds. He followed her eyes down the alley where two Franciscan monks were walking side by side in stuffy-looking robes. “We can’t just leave Riq,” Sera said.

“We’re not leaving him,” Dak told her. “We’re just momentarily suspending our search. Besides, isn’t this mission bigger than any one person? That’s what Riq always says. Just because he’s off somewhere pining over Medusa doesn’t mean the rest of us are supposed to stop working.”

Sera was staring at Dak with a sad expression on her face. Like she felt sorry for him. He’d caught her staring at him this way a number of times since they landed here. He didn’t understand. Why would anyone feel sorry for him? Was it because of his parents? Sure, it was rotten luck they’d been lost in the river of time, but they’d be reunited. And in the meantime he was busy living history, fixing it where it needed to be fixed. “Look,” Dak said, breaking eye contact, “I promise we’ll come right back down. Unless you wanna stick around for a conversation with
those
guys.” He motioned toward the monks.

“Fine,” Sera said. “We’ll go check it out, then we’re coming right back down here and finding Riq.”

Dak pumped his fist a few times, then waved for Sera to follow him. He didn’t know what to expect from a secret Mayan meeting, but it was bound to be worth seeing.

Dak and Sera climbed the boulders in front of the cave and took a few steps inside. The musty smell brought back a slew of memories for Dak. He remembered waking up on the makeshift cot with a man wearing feathers, burning herbs over his chest. He remembered watching Sera’s lips move as she spoke to him in words he couldn’t quite hear. But mostly he remembered the strange visions he’d had throughout his recovery. There was the one where he was trapped inside a well. Or the one where he was climbing through a cramped tunnel that never seemed to end. But the strangest vision of all was the one where Sera had come to him and revealed that Itchik was her father.

Dak peeked at Sera now as she studied the several dozen Mayas gathered inside the cave. If Sera traced her family tree back far enough, he wondered if it would lead her all the way back to this very village.

“All right, my good people,” a young Mayan man suddenly announced. “Bring it in a little tighter, please.” They moved deeper inside the cave, some of them holding candles or masks or food offerings.