Native Tongue (28 page)
“What going on?”
“
Kipbup
means murder,” Parrot said. “Someone’s been murdered.”
Kipbup
means murder,” Parrot said. “Someone’s been murdered.”
“What?!”
I looked around and saw Jonathan running toward us.
I looked around and saw Jonathan running toward us.
“Stay here,” he ordered as he and Guillermo raced past us.
I glanced around the hut, trying to recall who I had seen, who’d been missing from the harvest dance, who could possibly be dead. I caught sight of Jaaci and breathed a sigh of relief. She could very easily be a target.
Outside I heard a woman’s wail, and it brought cold prickles to my skin. “Who died?”
Parrot shook his head. “I don’t know yet. But it looks like the guard tried to save the person.”
More people hurried from the hut as others came back in. Then Jonathan reappeared, motioning us out.
Quirk, Parrot, and I followed Jonathan out of the hut. Many of the Huworo people had gathered at the base of the tree where the watchtower was. I looked all the way up . . .
And sucked in a breath.
Covered in blood, one of the guards dangled by a rope around his neck. His body swayed in the air as a couple of Huworo men slowly pulled him up onto the watchtower’s platform.
I put my hands over my mouth. “Oh, my God.”
“Come on,” Jonathan said, directing us into the jungle. We walked in silence and about a quarter of a mile in, came to a stop. From his backpack he pulled three pieces of wood that had been shaped into knives. He gave one to each of us. “Keep this on you at all times. Don’t be afraid to use it. And do
not
trust anyone.”
not
trust anyone.”
I took my knife and knew without a doubt in my mind I would use it if I had to.
“Listen to me,” Jonathan emphasized. “These hand-carved knives are
extremely
sharp and dangerous. Only use them if absolutely necessary.” He looked at me and Quirk. “You two, I don’t want you coming out of that cave until you know what those glyphs say.”
extremely
sharp and dangerous. Only use them if absolutely necessary.” He looked at me and Quirk. “You two, I don’t want you coming out of that cave until you know what those glyphs say.”
We nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Jonathan turned to Parrot. “Don’t leave the village.”
Parrot nodded his understanding.
Back to the village we went. Quirk and I packed up enough food and water to get us through the next twenty-four hours. With renewed determination, I knew, without a doubt in my mind, that I would figure out the ancient code.
One person had died. There was no telling what would happen next. That dangling guard could have been any one of my team members.
In the dark, Jonathan escorted us to the cave. “I’ll check on you when I can. Guillermo will try to keep a watch on the cave entrance as well. I wish I had more people. Someone to post outside the entrance at all times.”
“We’ll be fine,” I reassured him.
With a nod, he headed off.
Inside the cave we illuminated the lanterns. I plugged a new battery into my laptop and powered up. While Quirk began working, I analyzed every line of code in my program. . . .
“Here,” Quirk threw something at me, jarring me from my concentration.
I looked at the foil-wrapped rectangular object. “A PowerBar? Where did you get a PowerBar in the jungle?”
“I packed it in my luggage. But clearly you need it more than me.” Quirk handed me a sketch.
How sweet of him to bring me a PowerBar. It reminded me of David, when he brought me lollipops.
Unwrapping the PowerBar, I took a bite, and Quirk and I dove back into our work. He sketched, I scanned, and hours ticked by. Vaguely, I registered Jonathan checking in on us.
Click, click, click
. . . I stared blurry-eyed at the screen. . . . Seconds rolled by in sync with the script scrolling my monitor.
. . . I stared blurry-eyed at the screen. . . . Seconds rolled by in sync with the script scrolling my monitor.
“Well?” Quirk leaned over my shoulder. “Anything?”
My heart gave a happy little pitter-patter. “We’ve gone from a dozen possible translations down to four. That’s progress.”
Major
progress.
Major
progress.
Quirk nodded. “Definitely.” He held his hand out to me and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s take a one-minute stretch break and get back to work.”
One minute later we were back at it again. He sketched faster than I’d ever seen him. I scanned, reorganized the data, and more hours ticked by. Again, I vaguely registered Jonathan checking in.
Click, click, click
. . . I kept my eyes fastened to the screen. . . . “We’ve gone from four down to two.” I glanced up at Quirk. “Almost there.”
. . . I kept my eyes fastened to the screen. . . . “We’ve gone from four down to two.” I glanced up at Quirk. “Almost there.”
With a nod, he continued sketching. “You doing okay? Tired?”
I should have been, but pure adrenaline surged through my veins. “I’m fine. You?”
“Peachy.”
I laughed a little at that.
Sometime later Quirk handed me a sketch. “That’s the last one. It’s all up to you now.”
I scanned it and, tuning everything out, focused on my program. I changed the results of the docket, redefined the prequibble, and corresponded the conspecti with the raciocinata.
Hours later I
click, click, clicked
. . . and took what felt like my first breath since starting. “We’ve got it.”
click, click, clicked
. . . and took what felt like my first breath since starting. “We’ve got it.”
we packed up and headed back to the village. Sixteen hours had taken us into the early afternoon of the next day.
I found Parrot at the corral and stepped up beside him. My horse, Diablo, came right over. I gave his nose a pet.
“Well?” Parrot asked me.
“I’ve deciphered it.”
He smiled. “I knew you would. I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me.”
“I have to tell Jonathan first—by the way, where is he?”
“He’ll be back in a few. He and Guillermo are having a meeting.” Parrot pointed up to the watchtower. “New guard.”
I glanced up. “What has happened since I’ve been gone?”
He let out an exhausted sigh. “Couple of chiefs got in an all-out fistfight. A few others have bowed out. There are still eight left, and none of them are budging on the quote/unquote proof the Mother Nature vase belongs to their tribe.” Parrot shook his head. “And there was another attempt at stealing the vase.”
“Oh, my God. Please tell me no one died this time.”
“No. Jonathan was there to intercede.”
“They should have just left him as the official guard to begin with.” I glanced up at the watchtower again and experienced a quick image of that dangling body. “Who tried to steal it?”
“Believe it or not, one of the young girls.”
“What?!”
Parrot shrugged. “I’ll be glad when all this mess is over.”
“You and me both. I can’t wait to go home.” Where lollipops, my bed, food, friends, and David were waiting.
“You can say that again.” Parrot took a sip from a brown pottery mug.
“What are you drinking?”
“Cinnamon coffee. Jaaci gave it to me.” He handed me the mug. “Try some. It’s good.”
I did. And it was.
We stood there in companionable silence, Parrot and I both petting the horses. Something moved behind us, and we both turned to see Talon approach.
Beside me Parrot visibly stiffened, and I whispered, “Relax. Don’t let him see you’re nervous.”
Coming up right beside Parrot, Talon leaned his back against the corral. With a thin sliver of wood, he picked his teeth, all relaxed, like he was hanging out with his pals in the barnyard. “With your blue eyes, long hair, and beard, I almost didn’t recognize you. Almost, Darren with the magic tongue.”
Darren. I’d forgotten that was Parrot’s real name.
Slowly, Parrot turned to face Talon. “What do you want?”
Talon sneered. “That’s right. I still have information about your mother.” He let out a pleasant sigh, making a sarcastic show of enjoying this. “What a pretty young girl she was. You two favor each other. Let’s see”—he made a show of pondering—“her name was . . . Sarah. That’s right, Sarah.”
Parrot took a step forward, and I knew he was about to blow.
Talon made a
tsk
ing noise. “Poor little Sarah. Or should I call her by her new name, Sparrow. What a sad life she led. Sold into slavery. Little Sparrow was quite popular among the slave trade.”
tsk
ing noise. “Poor little Sarah. Or should I call her by her new name, Sparrow. What a sad life she led. Sold into slavery. Little Sparrow was quite popular among the slave trade.”
“What?!”
Parrot shouted. “Where is she?”
Parrot shouted. “Where is she?”
Talon smirked. “Well, I’m going to need something if you want that kind of information.”
I stepped up. “I’m not falsifying my findings.”
Talon shrugged. “That’s nice, but I still want the vase, and that’s what I’ll have.” Talon flicked his toothpick aside. “Meet me back here tonight. Midnight. You don’t have the vase, I’ll give the order that your mother be killed.”
“How are we supposed to get the vase?”
Talon sneered. “Sounds like your problem, not mine.” He glanced up at the watchtower and sighed. “Too bad one of the guards had to die. If he would’ve just handed over the vase like I’d asked—”
“Did you kill him?” Oh, my God.
“I didn’t say that, now, did I?” Talon looked straight at me. “I do have many loyal people who work for me. People willing to do anything.”
Hit men,
but I didn’t say it. I grabbed Parrot’s arm. “Let’s go.” With all my strength I pulled him away.
but I didn’t say it. I grabbed Parrot’s arm. “Let’s go.” With all my strength I pulled him away.
“I always thought she left,” he said when we were out of ear-shot from Talon. “I didn’t know Talon sold her into slavery.”
I rubbed Parrot’s back. “And you still don’t know. He could be lying. It’s no wonder TL’s had problems finding her. If her name has been changed, and she is in some sort of slave ring, there’s no telling how many times she’s been sold and resold. How many times her name has been changed.”
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