Curse of the Ancients (16 page)

“Finally,” Dak said, turning to Sera and Riq. “I was beginning to think there weren’t any Hystorians in all of Mesoamerica.”

“Oh, no,” the woman said. “We’re here. Just extremely spread out. In fact, this region is actually the birthplace of the Hystorian presence in the Americas.”

“The first Hystorian in the Americas was Mayan?” Sera said. “Who? When?”

“An amazing woman known as Akna,” she answered. “A long, long time ago. By the way, I’m María.”

“María?” Dak said. “That doesn’t sound very Mayan to me.”

“It’s not. My parents passed away when I was an infant, and I was raised by Spanish nuns. They’re the ones who named me. When I got older I began researching my Mayan roots, which is how I stumbled into the underground Hystorian movement. I joined immediately, hoping I could help make tomorrow’s world a better and safer place.”

Dak, Sera, and Riq introduced themselves to María, and then Riq pulled two locket pieces out of the bag on his belt and held them out. “I came in here earlier because of this.”

“Dude, you broke my gift,” Dak said. “That hurts.”

“See what’s written inside there?” Riq said, turning the locket toward Dak.

“How about a little help?” Dak said. “You know I can’t read glyphs.”

Riq turned the locket halves toward María, who said a single word: “Observatory.”

“We were in this same village a long time ago,” Riq told her, “and I knew a girl named Kisa. She tried to give me a locket like this one when we were leaving, but I dropped it. That’s why I was asking about her earlier tonight. So, you’re sure you’ve never heard of her?”

María shook her head and told him, “But I need to show you something fascinating.” She dug into the wooden box, pulling out several similar-looking ancient lockets. “Each of you take one and open it up,” she said.

Dak opened his and looked at the glyph inside. It was exactly like the one Riq had just shown him.

Riq and Sera held out their open lockets, too.

“They all say ‘observatory,’ ” Riq said.

“We are constantly finding more and more lockets,” María said. “And they all have the same word inside. We still don’t understand why.”

Sera set her locket down. “Kisa was really trying to tell you something, Riq.”

He shrugged but didn’t say anything. Dak could tell the guy was feeling all sensitive again. He made a mental note to lead Riq through a quick seminar on love, as soon as they could carve out the free time.

“We always assumed the author of these messages was Akna,” María said. “That is why previous Hystorians established the observatory as their base. According to legend, Akna was so committed to our cause she worked all the way up until the day she passed away from old age.”

“Whoever wrote it,” Dak said. “Why were they being so vague?”

“She probably worried the information would get into the wrong hands,” Sera said. “Where there are Hystorians, there are usually Time Wardens, too.”

“Of course,” María said. Then she stood up. “Come with me. I’d like to show the three of you something else.”

Dak, Sera, and Riq followed María halfway down the hall, until she stopped, knelt down, and shone her candlelight on a lower portion of the wall. She felt with her fingers along the wall until she came to a small keyhole. “I’ve never mentioned this to anyone,” she said, looking up. “There’s a locked door here. It’s been this way at least as far back as I go. But we believe there’s a secret room behind this wall. According to legend, it was the meeting place of the first-ever Hystorians in this part of the world, led, of course, by our remarkable founder, Akna.”

Dak saw two tiny snakes were carved into the stone near the keyhole. “Check it out,” he said.

Sera turned to Riq, who had tensed at the sight. “Could two people be that into snakes?” she asked.

“We have to get inside,” Riq said.

Sera nodded. “The riddle says we’re supposed to unlock a long-locked door,” she said. “This has to be it.”

Dak pressed on the small stone door, then tried to rattle it. “Deep, deeper, deepest,” he said. He was getting excited, thinking about all the Hystorian history that might be on the other side of the stone wall. “Talk to us, María. How do we open this bad boy?”

“There is no key,” María said. “Many generations of Hystorians have stood in this very place, wishing they could see what’s inside. But locked out we have remained.”

“Bacab!” Dak shouted, springing to his feet. “We have to track that dude down ASAP! He’s a locksmith!”

I
T DIDN’T
take long for Sera to see what the Mayan people were up against.

As she, Dak, and Riq hurried away from the observatory, they passed the village square, where several Franciscan monks were tossing ancient Mayan artifacts onto a massive pile. It was dawn now so Sera could see it all clearly. A few monks were tucking kindling into the pile. Two dozen or so armed Spanish men stood in a circle around the monks, almost daring village locals to interfere. Sera noticed that all the guards from the prison were part of the circle. So were the men who’d forced the Mayas out of the cave.

One monk seemed to be overseeing the entire operation.

Sera studied him as they moved past the scene. She knew he must be the infamous Diego de Landa.

Bacab wasn’t at his hut.

They found him at a nearby ball court, huddled with several other Mayan men, including his younger cousin, K’inich.

“Bacab,” Sera said, half out of breath, “have you seen what the monks are doing in the square?”

“I know what they’re doing, little sister.” He turned around, showing the crossbow in his hands. “It is why we are preparing for battle.”

“But they’re sitting there waiting for you!” Sera shouted.

“And they’re heavily armed,” Riq added.

“If they try to burn our history, we will stand up against them,” Bacab said. He grinned at Sera. “I’m not afraid to risk my life for what’s right.” Then he turned back to his men and began barking instructions.

She spun around to face Dak and Riq. “I have to help them,” she said.

“Sera, we need you,” Riq said.

“The best way to help them,” Dak said, “is to fix this Break. We can change the way the world perceives the Mayan people forever.”

Sera was so confused. She felt a strange, unexplainable loyalty toward these people — like they were family. And if they were willing to risk their lives, she felt like she should, too. But the rational side of Sera knew Dak was right. If they fixed the Break, made sure the right codex survived the burning, the Maya would no longer be famous for declaring the SQ saviors of the world. Maybe instead they’d be celebrated for their actual wisdom and . . . scientific achievements. Sera never thought she’d consider the Maya scientific, but that’s exactly what they were.

She turned back to Bacab. “We need your help getting into a room in the observatory.”

“Can it wait until after our battle in the square?” K’inich said, frowning at her. “You may have noticed, Bacab is a little preoccupied at the moment.”

“I’m sorry, but it can’t wait,” Sera said flatly. “Bacab, do you have keys to the doors in the observatory basement?”

“If it is a lock in this village,” Bacab said, “I have the key.”

“And what is in the basement?” K’inich asked.

“There’s a room we think might be very important to us,” Dak said.

Bacab stood there, looking out over the horizon. “It would be much easier if this could wait.”

“Or you could just give us the keys,” Dak suggested. “We’d bring them back as soon as we were done.”

“Only a locksmith handles a locksmith’s keys,” Bacab said.

“I will take them,” K’inich said, tossing down the coil of rope he’d been holding. He picked up his crossbow and said, “Bacab, you stay here and continue your preparations. I will hurry back.”

“You’ll really take us?” Dak asked.

“Obviously you are desperate,” K’inich said. “So, we will go.”

“You know where the keys are,” Bacab said. “Come back as soon as you can. We will need every man this morning.”

K’inich took off in a jog toward Bacab’s hut.

Sera, Dak, and Riq were right on his heels.

K’inich was a very calm and composed man. That was what stood out most to Sera as they walked past the village square on their way back to the observatory. Dak and Riq were a few steps behind, talking. So Sera was free to watch K’inich as he studied the Spanish men guarding the pile of Mayan artifacts. He showed no emotion.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Sera asked him.

“It bothers me very much,” K’inich said. “Because it is unjust and ignorant. They do not wish to tolerate what they do not understand.”

Sera shook her head. “If I had that crossbow you’re wearing, I’d be tempted to fire off a few arrows right about now.”

K’inich only smiled at her.

Once the square was well behind them, he said, “I would like to tell you the story of two boys.”

It seemed like an odd time to tell a story, but Sera thought K’inich was intriguing, so she told him, “I’d love to hear a story.”

“Wait,” Dak said. “What story? We want to hear the story, too.”

“Many years ago,” K’inich began, “two young boys went out on a raft with one of the most respected elders of their village. This would be both boys’ first fishing trip. One of them was the son of the king. The other was a neighborhood boy who the king’s son was fond of. They went out into the deeps where the fish were known to bite. The neighborhood boy took to fishing right away. He caught three fish within the first hour. The king’s son didn’t fare quite as well. He had trouble casting his line. The elder assured him it was simply bad luck. A little while later, the weather began to change.”

K’inich paused as he swung open the observatory door and held out his hand for Sera, Dak, and Riq to enter.

“What happened next?” Dak asked as soon as they were all inside.

Sera had no idea how the story applied to anything she’d said, but she was curious, too.

“The elder told the boys they must head for shore right away,” K’inich continued. “But the king’s son had other ideas. He demanded that they remain in the ocean until he caught a fish, too. He threatened to tell his father if the elder failed to respect his wishes. ‘You would lose your standing in the village,’ he said. The elder pointed to the swirling sky and told the king’s son they were in danger, and he began paddling toward the shore.”

They were at the stairs now and K’inich descended them slowly. “On their way in,” he said, “the sea grew very rough. A powerful wave rose up and slammed into the wooden raft. The neighborhood boy’s fish all washed back into the ocean. Then a second wave appeared, this one bigger and stronger. It picked up the small raft and slammed it back down against the sea. The raft collapsed underneath them, leaving the two boys and the elder alone in the rough water, with nothing to keep them afloat. It was a desperate situation for the elder. Neither boy could swim, and he knew he would only have the strength to save one boy. He turned to them, both thrashing around, fighting to keep their heads above water.

“It was an impossible dilemma. He cared for both boys. But when another large swell rose up in the sea behind them, the elder chose. He grabbed the shirt of the neighborhood boy and held tight as the waves crashed over the top of them, forcing them both underwater. He fought against the current and made it to the surface, holding the boy’s face out of the water. Then he swam with his one free hand toward the shore. And eventually they made it.”