Secrets of the Anasazi

by Sky Whitehorse

  Roy wandered in minutes later, glaring in Warren’s direction while grabbing bales of hay and putting them into the stalls.

  Warren ignored him and saddled the horses for rides.

  Roy checked the list of guests. "Only seven people touring the Valley," he said so Warren could hear, but he didn’t look at him, then headed to the storage room.

  Warren’s heart jumped into his throat. He’s going to tattle on me for last night! "Roy!" Warren called. He dropped the hose into the trough to chase him.

  Roy turned back with a scowl.

  "Don't mention last night to my father. Please?"

  “Oh, is that all you’re worried about? That I’ll ruin your daddy’s image of you if I tell him you tried to make it with my sister?” Roy said sarcastically and continued into the hut.

  Warren stepped closer to the hut hoping he could overhear any conversation. He put his hand into his pocket where he kept the worry stone Maya had given him. He rubbed his thumb into its smooth surface. His heart raced as he wondered what his father might say if he knew he and Maya were caught in Paris’s bedroom. He listened but didn’t hear anything.

  Moments later, Roy strode out, flinging the screen door so that hit the outside of the hut. "Where is your dad?"

  Warren shuffled back. "He was in there last I saw him. Why do you want to talk to him?" He felt relieved that Roy wasn’t able to spill the secret, but confused that he was gone at the same time.

  "Just tell me where he is. I need to get his horse ready and I can't find Hototo or your dad. Did he go somewhere?"

  Warren rubbed his throat. "He was just here a little bit ago." Warren opened the screen door and stepped over the threshold, noticing his father’s boots were gone. He normally set them by the door unless he was out. Warren looked for a note on the table, which his father always left when he had gone without telling anyone, but the only thing he found setting there was his pocketknife. Unusual... he doesn't go anywhere without his knife. He picked it up and frowned, flipping it open and closed.

  He thought back to when he had been in the hut earlier. His head was pounding, but he tried not to let on in front of his dad about the hangover; however, he distinctly remembered there had been blow darts setting on the table, and now they were gone. His father normally brought them on rides when he knew he would be around the property. He noticed the closet door was ajar. Warren closed it, scratching his temple. Why hadn’t he mentioned leaving earlier when he saw me?

  Warren walked back outside, biting the inside of his lip. "He must have gone on a quick ride. He'll be back before the tour at 9:00. Just saddle the rest of the horses."

  The boys continued their morning's work but, before they knew it, 9:00 had rolled around and there was no sign of Ahote.

  Warren stepped out of the stables and turned in a circle, studying the horizon for as far as he could see in every direction. Some of the guests had arrived for their tour. They stared back at him. Warren took to rubbing the worry stone once again.

  Roy approached Warren. "What are we going to do? There are customers waiting and your dad is M-I-A."

  "Cancel the tour." Warren’s stomach tightened.

  "What? Why?" Roy’s voice raised a notch.

  "Because I need to go look for my dad. There’s something wrong. He's never late."

  "I'll take the customers on the tour. You can look for your dad."

  "Fine,” he threw his hands out. “Do what you want. Keep an eye out for him."

  "I will."

  27. Cracking the Code

  Saturday, 10:30 p.m.

  Hours after finding the sheet music, Chantal slumped at the piano in the Grand Ballroom, playing the notes repeatedly. One hand sheltered her face. "What if you're right? What if this is a clue he left for me?"

  "You'll figure it out," Maya replied, placing a hand on her back. "Did you try concentrating over it with your eyes closed?"

  "Of course. I hear the tune. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it." She let out an exasperated breath. "What if I can’t figure it out?"

  "I have faith in you."

  She rested her forehead in her hand. "If only I could ask Grandma about it, she could tell me what to do."

  Her words hung in the air. The thought of finding Grandma incoherent was fresh in her mind. With Grandma in the hospital, and Ahote missing in action, Maya considered their plight; left without the elders, the weight was on their shoulders.

  "Maybe you're overthinking things,” Maya said, squeezing her shoulder. “Sometimes people are so caught up in seeing something one way that they don't see it for what it really is, just like my puzzle boxes. Sometimes I think I need to push left or right and then I figure out I'm supposed to pull one of the sides off. Things aren't always what they seem."

  Chantal scrunched her nose and looked closer at the sheet music, shaking her head in disbelief. “I think you’re right!” She wrote the letters under the notes. Moments later, she jumped up from the bench with a smile." It wasn't meant to be a piece of music at all. He only disguised it that way."

  Maya’s pulse quickened in reaction to Chantal’s enthusiasm. She read the message she had written underneath the notes and wrinkled her brow. "Deface faded facade? What does that mean?"

  "There is only one faded facade I know of," Chantal said. "Quick, we need to find something to knock down the sand painting of Spider Woman in the basement. Meet me in the lobby in five minutes." She ran from the Ballroom.

  Maya spun on her heal as she watched her. "Wait, what? Chantal!" Maya called as she disappeared around the stairwell.

  Maya paced in the lobby, watching Chantal as she walked back through the dark to the front doors of the hotel from Ahote's hut, wielding the old tomahawk he used to chop firewood. The grimace on Chantal’s face could be seen under the light of the entryway.

  "Can you be less conspicuous," Maya whispered, looking around for guests. "You look like a crazy person swinging that thing around. Luckily, no one is in the lobby."

  Chantal's smile faded. She pulled a face at Maya, running her fingers through her blond hair, then sticking her nose up. "Luckily, no one is in the lobby." She strutted like a runway model.

  Maya narrowed her eyes. “I do not act like that.”

  “That’s exactly what you do. Quit wearing the bossy boots.” She walked behind the front desk and opened the cellar door.

  Maya rolled her eyes, deciding to put it behind her. They had bigger things to worry about.

  The cobblestone stairs disappeared into darkness. Chantal's hand brushed over Maya's shoulder to flip on the light. They went downstairs, passing the overflowing laundry that they could never catch up with, and came to the façade.

  Maya stood in front of it, spreading her arms out like she was sheltering it from harm. "Do we really have to destroy this beautiful art? It's so full of life." Spider Woman's left hand outstretched to the west while spiders dangled on webs from her arm. Her head tilted upward with closed eyes and long, black hair. On each side of the wall, stalks of corn grew abundantly with ears all the way up to the ceiling.

  Chantal looked at it, holding up the axe. "Obviously. Ahote wouldn’t have gone to the trouble with leaving a note if he hadn’t intended for us to go through with it.”

  Maya’s heart broke over the thought. She brushed her hand over the rough sands, kissing it, and then extended her arms as if to give it a hug. It was solid, like the thick wall had been layered and stuck together with a strong adhesive.

  “I should have known this wall was hiding something. This cellar used to be a kiva. Remember?"

  Maya stood next to Chantal as they admired it.

  "Yes, you mentioned that,” Maya said. “Why is it here?"

  She sighed. "I think they constructed the hotel around the kiva to protect it, and it’s been disguised as a laundry room. This chamber was used for religious uses by our pueblo ancestors. Only the men took part in the ceremonies where we believe they could communicate with Mother Earth. Shaman m
embers of our tribe secretly shared information to pass to the chiefs."

  Maya considered her words carefully. She sensed something about the room from the first time she had entered it. She felt warm inside, as if it were special and majestic.

  Chantal sighed. "Let’s get started.”

  Maya nodded. "I'll let you do the honors."

  Chantal put her ear up to the rough exterior and knocked.

  "Erm... What are you doing?"

  "Shh!" She put her finger to her lips. "I'm making sure there's an echo. That means there’s a hollowed space behind it." She knocked again and paused.

  "Well?” Maya asked. “Is it hollow?"

  "Definitely." Chantal held the tomahawk above her head and swung at the wall. Only a small mark was made, but some sand sprinkled to the floor. She tried once more, but it didn't leave a mark.

  "Close your eyes when you do it, like Ahote does when he cuts wood," Maya suggested.

  "Right." She whacked with her eyes closed. This time she easily broke through to the other side.

  A gust of wind burst from the hole she had made. Swirling sand filled the room. They began to cough and tried to protect their eyes. The unexpected whoosh of current was so loud Maya couldn’t hear her own gasps. They knelt onto the floor, covering their faces as the wall blew, grain by grain, in a whirling blast around them. Maya could hear whispers in her mind from different tongues, young and old, men and women. She sensed the presence of someone watching them. The smell of earth and root filled the room as the wind died down and the sands settled to the floor.

  Maya ran her fingers through her sandy hair. She felt small, kneeling with her face in her hands, as if she were now at the foot of a throne room. She gathered the courage to peek through her fingers. It was like a dream. The only images left of the façade were of Spider Woman and the stalks of corn. Maya’s pulse raced at the sight of the statue that now blinked and moved. She couldn’t believe she was in the presence of the immortal being, Mother of Earth. Maya drew backward onto her feet and stood by Chantal, grasping her arm. Chantal’s shoulders were tense and her knees were locked.

  Spider Woman's body was a breezy ocean of colorful earth-toned sands. They were in constant motion, like a swarm of bees that took the shape of her face. She opened her eyes, which had no pupils, just white orbs like Grandma Oriel. Spider Woman motioned toward some old pottery that had lain behind the wall and opened her mouth to speak.

  "Um muaii nu ma,” Spider Woman greeted. Her voice was like a breathy wind.

  The girls exchanged glances. Maya was at a loss for words. She didn’t know whether she should be afraid, or what the proper way to respond to a goddess was.

  "What brings you into my presence?" Spider Woman asked, moving her arms with grace.

  Maya bowed her head. "Forgive me, Spider Woman, Mother of Earth. We received a message from our friend, Ahote, to see you."

  Chantal nodded, her eyebrows raised. "We're not sure why, Mother."

  Spider Woman closed her eyes and meditated, then opened them again. "Your friend is protecting the secrets of the Underworld. Within it lies the city of Cibola. You will find him there. He needs your help."

  "How do we get to the city?" Maya stiffened, unsure if she should be so relaxed in front of her majestic being. "I-if you don't mind my asking?" she stuttered.

  Spider Woman blew a breath of sands that took shape in front of her, forming into a rock wall with a petroglyph of Kokopelli on it. "Find the door to the Underworld. Only those with the gift to see are granted a key to enter." The floating breath of sand dropped to the floor.

  "Mother," Chantal said, "while we have you here, please, answer me this: We believe our mothers are under a curse. Is there anything we can do?"

  She blew again, this time the form of seaweed took shape, swaying as if it was in an ocean current. "Only the underwater plant of the third world can remedy the curse of the trickster Kachinas. It grows at the bottom of the underground lake, but if you dive in you may not make it back out."

  "Why not?" Maya asked. “How can we be sure to get away?”

  "When you touch the healing waters of the underground lake, it will begin to freeze over. You must gather what you need and get out before it’s too late." Some of the sands holding Spider Woman together began to sprinkle to the floor. Her words began to crescendo.

  "Mother, please help us," Chantal begged, extending her arms toward her. “Where is the door?”

  Spider Woman motioned towards the room behind her, which had a grey wooden ladder with cracks that splintered from top to bottom. It was tied together with twine rope. There were four-foot-tall torches that looked like branches with dried animal skin wrapped around the top. An inscribed stone tablet was propped against the wall next to yellowed, rolled up scrolls. Pottery lined the wall. Some were short and portly while others were tall and sparse. They ranged from reddish brown to tawny, with markings around them.

  Spider Woman lowered her head in a bow and turned her palm up. "Translate the script on the pottery. It will lead you to the entrance where the winding paths twist. They will lead you to the underground lake." Some sand from the floor swept together above her palm in the shape of the box Grandma Oriel had given Maya. Her voice began to fade. "Don't forget the box." Her form continued to disintegrate into a small mound on the kiva floor.

  "But we don't have a key to the door to the Underworld," Maya said, as she and Chantal reached for the grains of sand. They slipped through their fingers.

  "Your friend has left you the key." The final grains fell to the floor as her voice slipped into silence.

  ⭐⭐⭐

  Saturday, 7:10 a.m.

  "We may need to consider other forms of persuasion, James," Dr. Parker said, putting the blade of his knife into a holster on his belt. "Obviously, he isn't willing to divulge what we want to know."

  "Uncle, will he be all right? I thought the blow darts were deadly." James frowned, feeling sick at the sight of him. He knelt down, cupping Ahote’s face in his hands. His long salt-and-pepper hair scattered over his weathered face, and the sand.

  James had quickly grown to admire him. He was a man who listened more than he spoke, and he was a wealth of information. Why wouldn’t he just tell us what we wanted to know, and everything would have worked out fine?

  "The poison is deadly to smaller animals, but to larger beasts it should wear off after about eight hours."

  He used the word beast, as if to make him seem less than human which James found unsettling. "And if it doesn't?"

  Dr. Parker glared at his nephew. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. You don't think I would let him die before getting the answers we need, do you, James?"

  His words hung in the air. A knot formed in James’s throat. He tried not to let his emotions show as his blood felt like it was curdling in his veins. He realized his uncle wasn’t the upstanding person he originally thought.

  "He'll feel deathly ill when he comes to," Dr. Parker continued, "but I expect he'll make it.”

  James felt nauseated by the way his uncle talked about Ahote. He was calm, and the situation had seemingly come to an idle. Now he was discussing that he expected Ahote to wake up, but what if he didn’t? His uncle seemed as calm as he was when he was doing something mundane, like ordering lunch. He wanted to turn and run for help, but he couldn’t. His uncle would stop him. He might even think he was a traitor as a nephew. James decided he would hope his uncle was right about the medicine wearing off.

  “He'll need to keep hydrated,” Dr. Parker said. “I'm sure he'll have a headache and he won’t be able to move. I made a makeshift stretcher out of our tent so we can carry him. We'll bring him to the area where we saw the bats disappear and hide him behind the rocks until he awakens. Then we will give him the ultimatum." Dr. Parker grabbed the dart from Ahote's neck and tossed it into the sand.