“Bingo,” Dak said. “And that bonfire, my friend, is what’s otherwise known as an auto-da-fe.”
They all just stared at one another, mouths hanging open in shock, until Dak said, “We have to stop it. Pacal’s codex has to be preserved. That’s gotta be the Break, right? Which means the one that has survived history is a fake!”
Sera took the SQuare out of Dak’s hands and held it out to Riq. “Do you understand anything else in the riddle?”
“A polyglot is someone who can speak or write multiple languages,” he said, looking up at Sera.
“Like you, dude,” Dak said.
Riq nodded.
“So, we need Riq’s language ability,” Sera said, “in order to understand the wisdom of the glyphs and the forgery of the curse.” She patted Riq on the back. “We’re sure glad you came back.”
Dak sensed Riq might be feeling a little too good about himself. He opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but just then he heard someone entering through the front door of the observatory. Dak snatched the SQuare from Sera and shoved it back into his breechcloth.
“Quick,” Riq said. “Follow me.” He pulled a candle out of its holder on the wall and started toward one of the doors.
Dak and Sera followed Riq through the door and down a narrow staircase. Then the three of them crept slowly through a dark hall, Riq leading the way with his candle. Dak wasn’t sure the basement was the best idea until he spotted an open door at the opposite end.
Riq stopped right in front of it, waiting for Dak and Sera to catch up. Then the three of them looked inside. There was a tall Mayan woman sitting in a chair, holding a wooden box in her lap and grinning. Dak saw she had a birthmark on her cheek.
“I’ve been waiting for you three,” she said.
Dak let Riq and Sera take the two empty chairs and he stood behind them, studying the Mayan woman and the wooden box in her lap. There were a number of ancient Mayan artifacts inside — including several lockets that resembled the one he’d given to Riq. The woman got up to close the door, and then sat back down and said, “I’m just going to come out and ask: Are you from the future?”
Dak, Sera, and Riq all looked at one another, then Dak turned back to the woman and said, “We are, ma’am.”
The woman covered her mouth, and her eyes turned glassy. “I knew it,” she said, pointing at Riq. “As soon as you showed up earlier this evening, in that ill-fitting robe, I had this strange feeling in my stomach.” She shook her head and said, “Wow. I did not expect to be having this conversation tonight.”
“My turn to ask a question,” Dak said. “Are you a Hystorian?”
“I am.”
“What about those two other ladies?” Riq asked. “The ones you were sitting with earlier.”
“No, it’s just me now.” She covered her mouth again, briefly, then took a deep breath and said, “Forgive me. I just . . . I never thought I’d actually live to see the day.”
“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!”
IT 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 ar
tifacts 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.”
Sera stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “What happened to the king’s son? Did he die?”
“You can’t leave us hanging,” Dak said.
Sera noticed that Riq seemed far less interested. She tapped the back of his elbow and mouthed, “You okay?”
He nodded.
“The king’s son washed ashore several minutes later,” K’inich said. “He had drowned. The elder told the truth that night when the king came to see him. He said he understood in the sea that he would only be able to save one boy, and he had chosen the neighborhood boy. The king ordered the elder to be put to death the following morning. Just before the elder was to be sacrificed, the neighborhood boy snuck over to the holding cell, sobbing, and begged the elder to tell him why he hadn’t chosen the king’s son. And do you know what the elder said?”
“What?” Dak said. “Tell us.”
K’inich glanced at Sera and smiled. “H
e told the boy that he knew the choice he made in the sea would be negative in the short term. He would pay with his life. But in the long term he believed it would prove to be the most beneficial. ‘How is that possible?’ the boy cried. ‘Because tomorrow,’ the elder explained, ‘you are going to go see a group of people who are very important to me. And you’re going to listen to what they have to say. And if my instincts are correct, you will carry their important message into future generations.’ ”
María came hurrying out of the room at the end of the hall holding a candle. “You found the key?” she asked.
K’inich held up the massive key ring for her to see, then he began sifting through them, looking for the right one.
Sera watched nervously as the first two keys he tried failed to work.
“So, I must’ve missed something,” Dak said to Sera. “Why was he telling that story?”
“He’s right here,” Sera said. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“How about it, K’inichy?” Dak said.
K’inich was too preoccupied to answer. The third and fourth keys failed as well. But the fifth slid right into the lock and turned easily. K’inich shoved open the heavy stone door, saying, “After you, my friends.”
Sera was the first one inside. She expected to see all kinds of Mayan artifacts, but the room was completely empty. She walked to the far wall, studying the floor along the way. It looked like there were fresh drag marks.
“I don’t understand,” María said. “According to all the records, this is the room.”
“Looks like you got some bad intel,” Dak said.
Riq tapped Sera on the arm and motioned back at K’inich, who was still hovering by the door. “Are we sure we trust —”
“I’ll tell you the point of the story,” K’inich interrupted, gripping the top of the door frame.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Sometimes we must do things that are detrimental in the short term because we know they will prove advantageous in the long term. There is nothing left in this room because I cleared it all out. The artifacts you thought you’d find are at the bottom of the pile in the village square.”
Curse of the Ancients Page 11