Mayan December

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Mayan December Page 25

by Brenda Cooper

His lips drew together. “Why can’t they just take it off? Did she see you put it on?”

  She shook her head. “Well, maybe she did. But it’s the kind with the clasp hidden in the band. The first time I got one, I had to work at it for a whole hour to figure it out. Even if she did see me put it on, she might not know how to take it off. I have to find her.”

  “Shhhh . . . I know.” He knelt down so his eyes were at her level. “I know this is scary. And I know it matters. And I don’t know why yet.” He inclined his head toward Cauac and Peter. “I bet I can’t get him into the Ball Court. Don’t know if I want to. We’d have been inside an hour ago, even with the bus ride, but when he saw Chichén he just stopped and stared and then he cried and then he stared some more.” Ian’s eyes were sad. “He lived here once, when it was a real city. Makes me feel guilty for bringing him. But he has to be here. I don’t know why, but I know he does.”

  “You can talk to him?”

  Ian nodded. “Don Thomas was there to help me. At first I needed him, but once you learn it, Cauac’s Mayan isn’t so different from today. I can puzzle it out. The hard part is he doesn’t have words for a lot of stuff we do, and he does have words for things I don’t.”

  She nodded. “Is Don Thomas coming, too?”

  “I think he’s here. Have you seen him?”

  “No. But we’ve mostly been in the Ball Court.” She bit her lip. “I need to find Hun Kan. Are you coming?”

  He stood back up. “Coming where?”

  “I need a map.”

  He pulled one out of his back pocket. “I got it to show Cauac how we do maps. The Mayans had them, so I thought he’d like to see.”

  She took it from him and folded it out. “In my dream, there was a small pyramid. About four stories. Maybe a little bigger, but not like K’uk’ulkan. There were a lot of wooden huts around it and Hun Kan was in one of those. It had a turtle painted on it.”

  Ian’s eyebrows rose. “Cauac’s totem animal is a turtle.”

  She felt buoyant for a second, as if held up by hundreds of tiny turtles. Ian didn’t even know she was turtle girl! He’d been gone so long. “I swam with turtles. A bunch of them. Back at the resort. They came to see me. Do you think that’s why?”

  Ian blinked at her, looking lost for words. “When?”

  “The day before yesterday. The same day that we came back from getting the bead.”

  “Do you remember what time?”

  “Sure. Late morning.”

  Ian gave her a big grin. “Maybe Cauac is a more powerful shaman than I thought.”

  She unfolded the map. “Why?”

  “We went to Tulum. Straight from where we left you. Don Thomas wouldn’t let us stop for food or coffee. He wouldn’t tell me why. As soon as we got in, Don Thomas almost ran down to the beach, so fast we could barely keep up with him.” Ian’s voice had gone all storyteller, quick-paced and dramatic. “We raced down to the water, panting, and here was this old man climbing out of the water, naked. He just stood there, dripping wet, his feet getting stuck in the sand as the ends of the waves ran over him. When we walked up to him, he squinted at me, and you know what he asked?”

  She shook her head.

  “He asked if I was Ni-ixie.” He drew out the pause in the middle of her name.

  She giggled.

  “He’d been out in the water calling for you. He told us he sent his turtle totem to fetch you. He’d heard about a fight and dead warriors, but he was sure Ah Bahlam and Hun Kan were okay. He seems to think they’re special.” He laughed. “They’re so special they see you. Makes me special, too?”

  She grinned again, but bent her head to the map, letting the idea that Cauac had sent the turtles sink in. Maybe if the turtles only spoke Mayan that explained why she hadn’t quite gotten the message. She shook her head and stared at the map. “A small pyramid. It was stone, so it would still be there.” She read the names by the squares that showed buildings. The smaller ones didn’t have pictures. “Is it the High Priest’s Tomb?”

  Ian shook his head. “Too big. Maybe one of the buildings by the Las Monjas group?

  She glanced down. “Maybe. But it says here that those were built later.”

  “Later than what?” Ian asked. “We never got an actual date. Although we can ask Cauac. He’d know it in the Mayan long count calendar. But I’d need a pencil or a computer to figure it out.”

  “Ask Peter.”

  Ian laughed.

  There had to be a way to find the building. “Maybe there’s a tourist book with pictures of everything over by Peter and Cauac.”

  “Good idea.”

  There was, and two or three places could have been right. She frowned and flipped back and forth between pages. “Can you tell Cauac what I saw, and ask him?”

  Ian closed his eyes.

  “Hurry,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Wait here.”

  “Okay. Just hurry. Mom’s going to be worried about me.”

  She shouldn’t have said that. Ian’s chin tightened and his eyes narrowed, but instead of a lecture he said, “Okay, I’ll hurry.”

  Ian and Cauac talked. They did as much in gestures as words; maybe Ian didn’t understand all that well after all. He called her over and had her talk about the dream, translating. Cauac’s hands clenched and released, but he didn’t show any other sign of worry. As he and Ian talked, and he gestured, ridged scars made red and white ropes of thin shadows down his forearms.

  Ian asked her for a specific description of the hut, and how Hun Kan looked, and she described it and pantomimed Hun Kan’s bound ankles. As soon as Ian finished translating, Cauac started walking.

  Ian shrugged. “I guess we follow.” He gestured to Peter, who fell in behind them. He still hadn’t said anything more to her than a mumbled hello. She wasn’t even sure he’d noticed her.

  Part-way there, Ian leaned down and whispered, “It is in the Las Monjas.”

  He stopped in front of what could be the right building. It was the right height, but most of the edges had tumbled and worn to rounded ruin. “Is that it?”

  She bit her lip. “It looked a lot sharper in my dreams.”

  He laughed. “Tulum was pretty sharp, too.”

  “The huts aren’t there. But they weren’t stone, so they wouldn’t be. But how do we get back?”

  Ian shook his head.

  Nixie started walking around, imaging what it looked like in her dream. The paths, the huts, the glory of the brightly-colored building with its elaborate feathered serpent heads for decoration at every corner. It had been dirt then, where there was a neat green lawn now.

  She tried to get all the dream-details, the whitish-brown dirt and the packed paths, the sharpness of the stone edges clear in her mind.

  It didn’t make any difference.

  Nothing changed.

  Cauac watched her silently. Peter sat down a distance away. Ian stood by Cauac and smiled at her from time to time, looking up up at the stars when he wasn’t watching her.

  Nixie bit her lip. Last night, dream-Nix had just walked through a wall. Could real-Nix just walk through time?

  She paced. She closed her eyes. She tried calling, “Hun Kan,” softly. The name fell in the modern world. She was here, felt here. There was no lightness in her.

  She sat down on the grass and put her head in her hands.

  CHAPTER 42

  Drums and flutes and clapping kept a rhythm, rising and falling like the breath of the jungle. Everyone with a role in the game danced: the fire tenders who would keep the smoke of prayers rising from the walls, the players, the judges, the ball-retrievers who stood out of court, the high priest and the water boy. Even though he would only be a watcher, as a Lord of Itzá, Ah Bahlam had a role of his own. Not the one he’d wanted, but this wasn’t the time to think about that. Swirling forms filled the Ball Court, costumed and not. Ah Bahlam wore his jaguar cloak, but not the awkward mask. Jaguar teeth rattled against his chest as he twirled and st
amped.

  Periodically, laughter rose.

  The captives watched, solemn faced and serious. They had all been brought together at the top of the parapet of the game wall, surrounded by the warriors who captured them. No others stood beside them. Did that mean Hun Kan would not give her life?

  Was he selfish to want life? He smiled and chanted, and the blood throbbed in his arm where he had sliced in ceremony the night before. His blood wanted to be free again, to flow like a river from his heart onto the Ball Court. It wanted to fill the underground rivers.

  Blood like rain.

  Blood heartbeat, loud in his ears. His feet stumbled as the dance dizzied him, but his beating heart and his jaguar did not let him fall.

  Other dancers grinned giddily or grimaced as he caught flashes of their faces shining with afternoon sun, sweat dripping from their foreheads.

  Dancing the portal open, so the players could game with the gods.

  CHAPTER 43

  Alice grew uneasy as walked through the crowds, searching the faces around her for Nix or Oriana. A man with the tail of a snake dragging in the packed earth behind him and a huge parrot-like head draped in red and green Macaw feathers passed close. His heavy footsteps and the sounds of shells rattling against his ankles drew her attention. What if Nixie wasn’t here because she’d gone back? Goneanywhen?

  She glanced at her phone. Nix was here, somewhere; her signal blinked right above Alice’s.

  She punched buttons quickly, demanding a close-in view. Dammit, if only she had the bandwidth to display a real-time aerial. Nix was close, but too far away to be in the Ball Court. Alice tried calling Nix’s phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

  She headed toward the gate, but she hadn’t got five steps when she ran into Oriana coming toward her, dressed in jeans and a yellow T-shirt and an ear-to-ear grin.

  “Did you see us? We hadn’t done that well in any rehearsals, and we never got to practice here. It’s like being in the Ball Court made us better.”

  “You looked great. Nix went to find you. But she’s—I don’t know. Out there somewhere.” Alice pointed in the direction Nix’s light indicated. “Did you see her?”

  Oriana shook her head. “Want me to help look for her?”

  Marie. She was supposed to get Oriana to Marie. At the least, she had to tell Marie she was going off to find Nix. “Look, come with me. Marie Healey wants to talk to you. Then I’ll go look for Nixie.”

  Oriana gaped. “To me?”

  “She wants to ask you about your dance. Maybe you can talk to her about the reefs. Come on, hurry. I need to go find Nix.”

  “I can help you.”

  “I can’t just run off on the president’s science advisor without telling her anything.” She turned and started walking toward the VIP benches. Oriana came up beside her, whispering, “You really are worried, aren’t you? You can see her beacon, right?”

  Alice nodded.

  “That’s not so bad then,” Oriana said.

  “Maybe.” Alice didn’t like not being able to see Nix at all. “Have you heard from Ian?”

  “No.” Oriana sounded exasperated. “I told you he’s a flake, sometimes. He’s supposed to be here. He has security detail tonight. And I only have an hour’s break. I just wanted to catch the start of the ball game.”

  The dance of the Wayob was still going on, but the dancers in the heaviest costumes already looked tired. “I don’t think it will be long,” Alice said.

  They were almost at the VIP benches. Nix wasn’t there.

  She’d been right about the timing. The announcer’s voice came over the air. “Please be seated. In ten minutes, the ball game will begin. Please be seated, the game is about to begin.” The voice switched to Spanish.

  Alice took the steps two at a time. Marie was deep in conversation with Aditi Roy, who now sat next to her. Some high end musical chairs. Marie put a finger up, forestalling Alice’s planned interruption. She had to go find Nix!

  Aditi smiled at her. “Alice! It’s a pleasure to see you again. Who is your friend?”

  Thank god for the prime minister’s perceptiveness. Alice performed the introductions as quickly as she could, and then before anyone could start a conversation, she said, “I have to go find Nixie. She didn’t come back, and her locator suggests she’s not even in the Ball Court. I’ll be right back.”

  Marie put a hand on Alice’s forearm. “Let me send my folk. They’ll find her. You don’t want to miss the ball game.”

  “But . . . ”

  Marie shook her head. “I can send ten. After all, if anything bad is happening to her, armed soldiers with dogs will be able to stop it. We have her tracking ID and better bandwidth.”

  Of course they did. Marie didn’t sound like “no” would be acceptable. Diplomatic teeth. Alice wanted to snarl back that armed soldiers with dogs wouldn’t be able to stop Nix from going back in time. But neither would Alice.

  The announcer had circled back around to English. “Please remain seated. Be prepared for a spectacle such as you’ve never seen before.”

  “Please?” Marie said. “My security people can go anywhere.”

  Alice bit back the reply she wanted to make and nodded. “But if they don’t find her in twenty minutes I’m going, game or not.”

  Marie laughed. “They’ll find her.” She spoke a set of quick instructions into the air, ending with, “Use the turtle girl picture.”

  A reason to be glad of the damned picture. At least Nix’s signal still burned bright blue. She wanted to look for Nix herself, but she finally turned toward Marie and said, “Thank you.”

  Marie nodded to acknowledge the thanks, but her jaw was tight and she seemed to have already dismissed the issue, her eyes far away as she listened to something someone said into her ear.

  Marie used to make her mad when they were in school, too. Problem was, Marie was almost always right.

  CHAPTER 44

  Nix felt Ian sit down beside her. He smelled like sweat and dried saltwater and old adrenaline, and his voice was very, very soft. “Don Thomas always took us back. I don’t know how to help you.”

  Nixie swallowed. “I have to find Hun Kan.” She put her chin on her fists, wishing she could stare the ground back in time. Ian didn’t think he could do it, so he couldn’t do it. That was just how it worked. And Peter wouldn’t be any help. As soon he got bored of watching her, he’d plunked down in the grass and opened up his computer. He stared at the screen, his brows knit so tight his narrow face looked squished. She could have poked him with a stick and he wouldn’t notice.

  Cauac had been watching her all along. He looked more like a raven than a turtle, full of curiosity. Nixie pointed at him and whispered, “Can he help? I’ve got to get back to mom, but I need to see Hun Kan.”

  Ian raised an eyebrow. “I’ll ask.” He pushed himself up and went over to Cauac, talking and gesturing, pointing at Nixie. Cauac went silent. He glanced over at Nixie then back at Ian. Ian bit his lip. “I don’t know if he understands.”

  “Tell him I have to see her,” she said. “Tell him she’s in trouble.”

  Ian turned back to Cauac, looking far more serious than he should, almost as if he weren’t Ian. Cauac remained stoic. When Ian finished explaining, he stood quietly for a long time before nodding.

  Nix wanted to hug the old man, but she settled for sending him her best smile.

  Cauac reached into the pack around his middle and pulled out a shell and two folded leaves. He set the shell on the ground, and sat in front of it, cross-legged. He rocked.

  Ian sat down across from him and gestured to Nixie to scoot over so they almost made a square. Ian hissed, “Peter.”

  Peter didn’t look up.

  “Peter,” Ian repeated, a little louder. “Join us.”

  Peter glanced over at him, looking like he was struggling to wake from a deep afternoon nap. He blinked and licked his lips, took a sip of water, and then blinked again. “But something’s happening
. . . there’s data—” He seemed to be struggling with words. “You’ve got to see.”

  “Later.”

  Peter bit his lip, clearly torn.

  Nixie needed him. Knew in her bones that she needed him. She leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. “Please. Something’s happening here, too.”

  He stared at her then looked at Ian, his eyes almost pleading. “Leave me alone.”

  “Please!” Nixie repeated.

  Peter sighed and closed his computer slowly, then slid it into his back pack. He still only seemed partially with them, like he was drifting into some other land in his head, his eyes not quite focused. There wasn’t any sign of the man with the jokes in this Peter.

  They made a square of people on the otherwise empty lawn, all close enough to touch, but no one actually touching.

  Cauac reached into his pouch and pulled out a wadded up piece of paper. Ian raised his eyebrows as Cauac smoothed the paper out, revealing a dollar bill.

  Nixie whispered, “It might be one of the ones I gave Jaguar-man.”

  Cauac laid the bill flat on the bottom of the shell, unfolded one of the leaves and poured a pinch of crackly-dry green herbs into his palm. He built a small mound on the bill in the center of the shell, then folded the pouch back up, carefully and deliberately.

  He needed to hurry!

  She looked around. At least it was empty here. The announcer’s voice had returned, distant and droning, too garbled by old stone and distance for words to be clear, but it had to mean the ball game was starting. Big screens littered the plaza for people who didn’t have tickets like she did. Maybe that explained why there was nobody immediately around them. They weren’t near any of the projection screens.

  The old Mayan sat completely still.

  She’d been gone more than half an hour. Her mom must be frantic. Her mom had been working toward tonight for years. Nixie should be with her, helping her. She chewed on her lip.

  Hun Kan might be dying. Her mom wasn’t dying.

  Cauac stared at the shell, brows knit almost like Peter’s had been over his computer (the dual image almost made Nixie burst out laughing). If this worked, they’d be in the other time.

 

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