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.”
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.”
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 tsking 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?”
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.
“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.”
With a moan, Parrot covered his face with his hands, and I realized I’d probably been too graphic with the possible details of his mom’s situation.
Jonathan emerged from the jungle as we passed by the single-men hut. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
I looked at Parrot and his clenched jaw, and I knew he wasn’t opening it to explain. I turned to Jonathan. “Talon alluded to the fact he killed the guard or possibly hired a hit man to do it. And he told us to steal the vase and meet him at the corral at midnight.”
“Or?” Jonathan asked.
I put my arm around Parrot. “Or he’d give the order for Parrot’s mom to be killed.”
Jonathan looked right at Parrot. “Your mom is not going to die. We’ll play Talon’s game, but our way. We’re meeting him at midnight.”
I lay wide awake in my hammock, incessantly checking my watch.
11:11 P.M.
I went over everything in my head that Jonathan had planned. We’d have a pouch with a fake vase. Parrot and I would use it as leverage in obtaining his mother’s location. We’d give Talon the false artifact, and Jonathan and Guillermo would move in.
11:23 P.M.
I listened to the night sounds. A symphony of bugs, frogs, and a million other jungle night crawlers filled the air. Jonathan, Guillermo, and Quirk would be watching from the woods the whole time. Nothing would go wrong.
11:39 P.M.
An occasional soft snore, heavy breath, or the sound of a body shifting filtered past me in the single-women hut.
11:51 P.M.
I swung my legs over the side of the hammock and, with a deep breath, left the hut. I crossed the village, squinting toward the corral. Through the night I made out the shadows of the horses as they restlessly moved around.
I saw a person standing inside the corral holding a long object. And then another person beside him.
As I passed the ceremonial hut, something moved in my peripheral vision, and I turned to see Parrot coming toward me, holding the pouch with the fake vase.
I waited for him to catch up. “There’s someone with Talon.”
Parrot’s gaze flicked to the corral. “That’s the leader from Southern Mexico. Looks like we know who the other bad chief is.”
I nodded toward the corral, absolutely dete
rmined Talon would not intimidate me this time. “Let’s do this.”
We approached the corral fence. The horses shifted with agitation at having Talon and the other chief inside the area.
Diablo and Abrienda tried to come over and say hi to us, but Parrot held his hand up and shook his head, and, surprisingly, the horses kept their distance.
Talon nodded to the pouch. “I’m not even going to ask how you got that away from the guards.” He smirked. “Aren’t you just sly these days?”
My gaze switched to a long spear Talon held in his hand. “What did you bring that for?” I asked, proud of my gutsy voice.
Talon shrugged. “Never know when you might need a good spear.”
I didn’t like that answer.
“I’m not into dramatics.” Talon held out his hand. “Toss the pouch here, and I’ll tell you where your mother is.”
I put my hand on Parrot’s arm. “Doesn’t work that way. You tell us where his mom is, and we’ll give you the pouch.”
Talon narrowed his eyes.
“And,” I continued with my bold ultimatum, “you lie to us about his mom, and you suffer. I think you’ve figured out by now that we have the ability to make you do just that. We have access to top secret things. Things you could only dream of.” I pinned him with the stealthiest gaze I’d seen TL do. “You will be hunted down, both of you, and made to suffer.
“And, you lay one finger on my friend, and the same applies.” Because once the location of Parrot’s mom was revealed, he’d be free to testify against Talon. Talon knew that. Maybe that’s why he’d brought the spear. To end Parrot’s life.
Silence fell over us as my threat lingered in the air. I concentrated on not swallowing, blinking, or moving. I kept my icy eyes on Talon, letting him see every ounce of the truth in what I’d said. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I’d gone too far, but I also knew I’d carry out the threat if need be.
The chief beside Talon swallowed, and the sound gurgled in the air. The nervous reaction pleased me.
Talon grunted. “Darren will not testify against me.”
“Done,” Parrot immediately agreed. “Tell me where my mother is.”
“Poland. The city of Racpap. On Nublin Street. Number Twenty-three.” Talon held his hand out for the vase, and Parrot tossed it to him.
Like two greedy boys, the chiefs eagerly untied the pouch and began unwrapping the thick layers of protective cloth.
Parrot and I turned away and started back across the village.
“Racpap. Nublin Street. Twenty-three,” he recited. “Racpap. Nublin Street. Twenty-three.”
“Pick up your pace,” I whispered. “Talon’s about to discover the vase is fake.”
“WHAT IS THIS?!” Talon yelled through the night.
Parrot and I took off running. We wove through the village, dodging behind huts, jumping gardens, and disappeared into the jungle. Hearts pounding, we ran as fast as we could through the dark to the river. Plants slapped us, thorns stabbed us, limbs tripped us, but we kept going.
Minutes later we emerged at the river, our predetermined meeting place.
Gasping for air, I braced my hands on my knees. “Jonathan”—I took a breath—“and Guillermo”—I took another breath—“should have got him by now.”
Sucking in air, Parrot nodded.
Out of the corner of my eye, a shadowed figure emerged from the jungle. I jerked up.
The Huworo chief stepped onto the river’s bank. He said something in his language and nodded to the right.
“He says,” Parrot translated, “he saw everything that happened. And this is not a safe place. Talon is heading right toward us.”
“But what about Jonathan?”
Parrot turned to the Huworo chief, asked him that question, and the chief responded.
Parrot didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t even look at me.
“What?” I nearly shouted.
Parrot rubbed his hands down his face. “Oh, my God.”
“WHAT?!”
“The chief says Jonathan has been killed and Guillermo’s been seriously injured.”
My whole body went numb. “Wh-what?” I shook my head. “That can’t be.”
Jonathan’s words echoed in my brain. If anything happens to me . . .
The Huworo chief said something.
“He says,” Parrot translated, “that we have to hurry. Talon’s very close.”
I shook my head again. Something’s not right. “I want to see his body. I don’t believe he’s dead.”
Something rustled in the jungle, and the chief took off running.
Parrot grabbed my arm and raced after the chief down the bank of the river. Tugging my arm free, I kept up the pace, glancing back every now and then to where we’d come from. The river cut around a corner, and I lost track of where we were.
The clouds parted, and the nearly full moon lit up the area.
More of Jonathan’s words echoed through my brain. Don’t trust anybody. . . .
My breath hitched with the overwhelming emotion. Jonathan was dead. TL was on another continent. David, too. Guillermo was seriously injured. And I had no idea where Quirk was.
Breathe, GiGi, breathe.
I still had Parrot, I reminded myself.
The chief darted off into the jungle, and we followed. The foliage surrounded us, blocking out any meager rays of moonlight. I tripped over something and felt Parrot pulling me up. He ran into a tree, and I was there to catch him. We both rolled down a bank and helped each other up. I tasted blood. With the amount of things scraping my face, there was no telling where it was coming from.
An animal roared through the night, and my already pounding heart leapt.
Oh, my God. We’re going to die.
Right as that thought went through my brain, we emerged at the swinging bridge that spanned the canyon and led to the cave.
Sucking in air, Parrot and I looked around.
The chief said something. I turned in his direction and stumbled backward mere inches from the canyon’s edge.
Holding a gun at me and Parrot, the chief repeated what he’d said.
“He says,” Parrot gulped a breath, “that we either end our lives in the canyon or he’s going to shoot.”
“What?” I caught my sob. Don’t trust anybody. . . . “Oh, my God.” And then I started crying.
Parrot wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
“Lower the gun,” a voice spoke to my left, and I jerked around.
Quirk stood at the border of the jungle with a rifle pointed straight at the Huworo chief. A shadow emerged behind him. I recognized the figure a split second before I screamed, “Quirk!”
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