The Treasureless Nazca Treasure
Unlike most of our exhibits, the magic in this building is still active and powerful. Current estimates say it was constructed approximately 400 CE, and it is unknown how it remained charged and undiscovered for so long. What is known is that last year, a group of terrorists attempted to use the site's power like a magical bomb. The walls of the building contain 49 mummies, mostly bundled in pairs, each one ranking as a major magical artifact. When a stasis device previously thought lost was recovered early this year, the Peruvian government graciously allowed this site to be moved to LA, where magical superheroes and archaeologists alike can study it safely. The purpose of the building, the identity of the mummies, and the reason for concentrating so much magic in one place are all still unknown.
Ray was so, so hooked. I folded my hands behind my back and watched him with beaming pride as he pressed his face and hands to the glass, staring down the shadowy tunnel into the temple itself. His voice took on that intent, emphatic tone he got when handed an intellectual puzzle. “So, why do the real scientists cover for a treasure hunter?”
“Because we have a different approach, and sometimes we find out things they can't. They'll be x-raying and doing echographs and radiation tests until we give the site back in December. They're convinced the building is meant to focus the power of the mummies in the walls. I'm not. I think the mummies are sacred guards, protecting that guy, right there.” She pointed a stylus down the hall. In the gloom, just barely, I could make out a lump of cloth with a head-shaped pot on top, propped behind a block of stone like a clerk sitting at his desk.
“And you want to study him?” Ray asked.
“I want to talk to him. I'm betting the mummy is aware and intelligent, and what he knows is the purpose of this site. Just the chance to learn the Nazca language would be worthwhile. That's assuming I can get his attention after he's been left alone for fifteen hundred years, and that's assuming I can get to him at all.”
Ray's grins could get real, real toothy, and he treated Emilia St. Daphne to one of those now. “The classic trapped corridor?”
“The classic trapped corridor.”
“Why not go through the walls?”
“Two reasons.” Stepping over to her pile of tools, she pulled up a poster. It looked kind of like an x-ray, dark with a ghostly outline of the building, and with white curled up skeletons filling the walls. She slid her stylus across them. “Reason number one: Boom.” Stepping to the door, she passed the door to Ray, who devoured it with his eyes as hungrily as if it were a girl. “Reason number two: I'm not that kind of treasure hunter. I prefer to sell artifacts and information to museums rather than melt down the gold. That means a lot more study, and a lot less safety. Treasure hunting is six months of research followed by a week of sweat and danger, kid, no matter how flexible your ethics.”
“What kind of traps?” Ray sounded absolutely hypnotized.
“The simple kind. Crushing, pokey things. The builders didn't have access to much metal, and wouldn't be expecting heavily armored intruders. A suit of power armor could get through, and then the gentleman in the center would take offense, and… boom.”
Ray crept around to the door, side-stepping because he wouldn't take his eyes off the building. He pointed through the gap. “May I…?”
“Sure. Just don't touch anything.”
Once inside, he slunk around to the tunnel entrance like a cat. It was plenty tall enough for him, but he still crouched down as he stared inside. “How far have you charted the traps?”
She stepped up beside him. Maybe it was an unconscious reaction to his fluid grace, but she stretched her back stiffly from side to side. “Nowhere. The mummies activate them. There are no mechanisms that aren't hidden by several tons of stone. But there must be a path through.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, which would just barely lift it into view above his black mask. “Why?”
“It's like hiding a spare house key under a potted plant. The mummies would recognize the rightful entrants, but there's always the chance of bringing a guest, or forgetting your ID talisman.”
Ray gave a snort. “What if-”
She saw it coming. “You have physical super powers and you'd like to try to help me.”
“Yes.” He practically growled it.
“This is insanely dangerous. Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She shrugged, spreading her hands, but couldn't maintain a straight face. Her smile glowed with pride, as if Ray were her son. “I'd be a hypocrite to try and argue you out of it, kid. Go slow, find the first trap, and we'll back off and look for the key. I'll be taking notes.”
He climbed into the stone tunnel, on all fours at first, but then merely in a poised crouch. One foot moved gradually in front of the other.
A couple of yards in, a chunk of the wall swung down and attempted to take said foot off.
It would have killed me, but it wasn't nearly fast enough to catch Ray. He'd taken a step back before I even registered the whoosh and swing of stone.
Emilia St. Daphne scribbled and tapped furiously on her tablet.
Ray eased forward again. A foot in a shiny black leather shoe extended into the space where the wall swung at it last time. Nothing. He touched a toe tip to the floor on the other side.
Whoosh! Crunch. Ray was really, really fast. This time the same bar of stone swung up from the floor and into the wall, and he still got his leg out of the way in time.
“There are pictures all over the floor on either side. Test them like floor tiles?” he called back to the treasure hunter.
“If you can do it safely,” said the treasure hunter. She sounded as excited as a kid our age.
I twitched nervously every time the trap swung between floor, walls, and ceiling, but what followed was so methodical as to be almost boring. Over and over Ray touched his foot down on the other side of the trap, and over and over it tried to crush him, but wasn't as fast as his super reflexes.
“None of these work. Not even in combination,” he finally reported. “I could duck past it and try to find the next trap.”
“Then I couldn't follow you. Try the pictures on the walls.”
More testing. It didn't take super long, at least. With Ray's speed, he could try a new combination every few seconds.
Then one worked. He had his hand on the left wall, and his foot touched the floor on the other side of the trap. Nothing happened.
Gently, he eased his whole body over the line of death. Still nothing.
When he let go of the wall, the block swung up and nearly took his arm off.
He pulled his hand to safety in time, but this was much closer than the other attacks. It was unexpected, and in an awkward position.
He was trapped on the other side.
Okay, 'trapped.' Reaching way out, he touched the original deactivation spot, and stepped back. Still…
“This doesn't help. I can get through, but no unaltered human could. There has to be another step.” He scratched his head under his hat.
“What was the picture you were touching?” asked the old treasure hunter, crouched outside and trying to get a photo with her little digital camera.
“It looks like a cartoon duck.”
“Is there a mouse on the other side?”
Ray got out his phone, and played flashlight with it up and down the wall. It was pretty dark in there. That sent St. Daphne back to her tools, pulling out a round flood light and setting it up at the entrance.
That was enough, and Ray reported, “Yes. Next to the trap, and a little above.”
She took a few more pictures. “Touch the bird, step across, and be touching the mouse when you let go.”
Ray tried this. Same as before, his hand on the first picture let him cross. With his hand laid on the second picture, he let go of the first.
Nothing happened.
A repeat, going the other direction, also worked.
The treasure hu
nter extended her arm, and she and Ray slapped hands triumphantly. They both had the same goofily excited grin as she explained, “Anthropomorphic seagull and anthropomorphic chinchilla is a love story found on Nazca pottery, and most Nazca religion centered around fertility. We've got a start on figuring out this whole pattern.”
Ray winked across the barrier at me, and in a drunkenly playful tone suggested, “If this is a fertility temple, would the traps react slower to someone who was in love?”
Emilia nodded. “Yes. That's very likely.”
I giggle-snorted. Ray looked so blank! He hadn't expected his joke to be true.
Crossing the first trap, Ray started easing his way further down the hallway. Now his voice echoed a little. “How did you get into treasure hunting, anyway?”
Behind us, Claire said distinctly, “Guys, I think we have a more pressing problem.”
Ray looked back before I did, and whatever he saw was so bad that he leaped back through the first trap, ignoring the picture keys and moving faster than the swinging stone could catch. As he rolled safely to his feet, I turned around.
Back at the entrance of the display hall, Mourning Dove held Claire off the ground by the scruff of a ridiculous kitty cat costume.
St. Daphne threw her hands up again. “It's okay! They're not here to steal!”
Cold plastic pressed uncomfortably into my shoulders and hips. I'd backed against the barrier without realizing it. Mourning Dove was powerful, and in the gloom her blotchy yellow skin and long, lank white hair made her look like a corpse. Knowing that this was an accurate label did not help. She still wore white leather, but instead of the pattern of buckles and straps from last time, this costume was a ragtag of stitches, like she was wearing something's skin. What's worse, that also might be accurate. So much yuck.
My voice wobbled as I asked, “I thought museum policy is to not call in the superheroes?”
Mourning Dove's consumptive croak answered, “My policy is to keep an eye on artifacts as dangerous as that one.”
The treasure hunter scurried out the door to our side of the hall, her hands still up. “Mourning Dove, please, these children are helping me with my research.”
“Yes.” Mourning Dove let go. Claire dropped to the floor in a heap, a display of clumsy harmlessness I didn't believe. The techno-vampire's attention wasn't on us anymore, and that was the important thing. “They have respected the exhibits, and don't seem to have done any more damage than breaking a lock. Keep them here while I deal with the other invaders. I wish you and your research well, Miss St. Daphne.”
“Other invaders? What other invaders?” I asked. My suddenly loud voice hurt my ears in this quiet hall. Here's hoping I sounded commanding, not panicked!
Claire gave me a sheepish smile from down on the floor. “It looks like a bunch of kids from the club followed us.”
I slapped my hand over my goggles. “They think I'm robbing the museum. They're here to fight me. Or join in. Or both. Just let me deal with them.”
“They have not demonstrated your goodwill. Stay here. Even with the museum's interference, it will not take me long to find them all.” Mourning Dove rasped.
“What? No-!”
A rheumy eye fixed me. It was hard to look away, almost like a blast of Claire's power. Her voice filled the world. “I will deliver them unharmed to the authorities.”
At least the effect wore off when she broke eye contact, but I was still left gasping as she walked out.
Most importantly, that hypnotic glance didn't change my mind. “We have to save the others. They shouldn't go to jail just for wanting a super powered fight with me. Maybe they even think they're being heroes!”
Ray offered me his hand. I took it, for the confidence, not for romance.
“I do not know if we can defeat her. I know we cannot defeat her without property damage,” he said.
I stomped my foot. I hated not seeing a way out of this! “We can't sneak them out before she finds them. The museum isn't that big.”
Claire leaped to her feet, revealing the lie of her incapacitation, and raised a paw-gloved hand. “I'll slow her down.”
Ray and I both frowned, and he said, “She's resistant to your powers.”
“Resistant, but not immune. I just have to play it light. The soft touch. Aren't I the friendliest thing you've ever seen?” She turned away, grinning at us over her shoulder. Hands clasped together, she rocked from side to side winsomely.
Her new costume was, I had to admit, stupid cute. She must have gotten the inspiration from our school mascot. It included shorts and a sleeveless, bare midriff top, both covered in fluffy white fur, showing off an awful lot of skin – but not, admittedly, as much as the aforementioned mascot. Turning the 'coy' into 'cute' were oversized gloves and boots, in white-furred paw themes, and a hood with big white cat ears. Her golden hair curled out of the edges, and when she wiggled her nose, her whiskers waved.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Okay, think past Claire's power. Was I seeing her outfit right? I was pretty sure the whiskers weren't real, but everything else was.
When I opened my eyes, Claire was already skating around the corner towards the cafe. She'd added her frictionless insoles to these new boots. All I saw was a disappearing back foot, and a waving tail, and I heard her call back, “I'll try to lure her to the room with the pillars.”
Oh, yeah, the big circular room with all the columns. That would work pretty well. It had the amazing power of looking like the center of the museum, while actually being far away from all the main exhibits.
No time for farewells. Ray and I scrambled for the stairs. The main floor had two advantages: We would probably heard the other kids come downstairs, and it was the opposite direction from Mourning Dove.
We were rewarded for our decision making immediately. Marcia was standing next to the big T-Rex skeleton, fists balled up. Her voice rang in the vault as she yelled, “Bad Penny! Come out and face judgment for your crimes!”
Good luck keeping Mourning Dove from hearing that, Claire.
I ran towards her, waving my hands. “Marcia! We've got to-”
As I stepped in range, she threw a punch.
By now, it was reflex. My foot touched the floor, teleporting me behind her. This was no precise martial arts strike. With nothing to hit, she stumbled.
I grabbed her shoulders. “Listen! Listen! Mourning Dove is here!”
Marcia beamed as if I'd announced a school holiday. “Really? My father said she'll eat my soul!”
Criminy. Right. Marcia no longer operated on Planet Self-Preservation. “Uh… theologically undetermined, but for all practical purposes, yes.”
She curled her hands up into claws, and gnashed her teeth like fangs. “And she grabs stray dogs in alley ways, and rips-”
Shaking her by the shoulders, I said, “Focus, Marcia! Please! Where are the other kids? We have to get them out of here!”
Her stare turned blank, shaded with vague comprehension. “Sneaking around, looking for something to steal, I guess. Or trying to ambush you.” The smile of unholy joy reappeared as she asked, “Do you want me to hold off Mourning Dove while you make your getaway?”
My first and second reactions disappeared before they reached my mouth. 'Are you insane?' was an obvious 'yes,' and 'Weren't you just trying to be a hero?' was meaningless. That wild-eyed face didn't care. I went with my third question. “You can't win. You know that, right?”
She tossed her head, her unevenly pixie cut black hair bouncing like a pom-pom. “Oh, please. I don't care about that anymore.”
“Are you completely sure you'll survive?”
“Don't you have morons to save?”
She was right. I abandoned the discussion, and beat feet for the geology exhibit, where the museum kept its collection of gemstones.
We heard hushed voices as we reached the entrance. Obvious choice confirmed.
“Why don't we take the gold, while we're here?” That was Cassie.
&
nbsp; A much more important voice croaked from the center hall behind us, “I will give you a chance to stand down, child.”
Thank Tesla for the support walls that blocked this corner of the building from view.
“Don't we have enough problems?” asked Will.
“We're safe. Mourning Dove can't get in here.”
“How do you know?”
“Rachel told me once. I think.”
“There are some huge gems in the vault. They don't have historical value, and the Inscrutable Machine shut off the security.” Laverne.
Something crashed. Marcia started laughing.
Ray and I stepped around the corner. There were Cassie and Will, half-hidden by the angle of the gold niche. Laverne stood way back at the doorway to the gem room. Sue, Teddy, and of all people Jacky were in the middle, clustered around a display of the prettier crystals. Jacky was naked, which didn't much matter because she was also in full slime girl mode. Everyone else had on their regular school clothes. Seriously?
At least Sue, Teddy, and Jacky didn't have larceny on their minds. Or if they did, it was pretty weird larceny. Teddy held a white crystal with rainbow edges and a flower shape drawn in straight, geometric lines in his left hand. In his right, a crystal just like it grew. Yes, it grew millimeter by millimeter, in fits and spurts, and he gritted his teeth from the effort – but it looked exactly the same as the original.
Jacky's hands puddled on the glass display case as she leaned over it to watch his progress. “That's a better power than fighting will ever be, Teddy.”
This was one of the exhibits the museum kept in darkness, and that gloom had shrouded me and Ray for a few seconds. Now Cassie caught sight of my pale grey jumpsuit. “Bad Penny! We- no, you're Pen- wait, Bad Penny really is Penny Akk?”
Next to her, Will rolled his eyes. Sue coughed guiltily. Laverne and Teddy stared, bug-eyed. Jacky… who could tell?
Please Don't Tell My Parents (Book 3): I've Got Henchmen Page 19