by Robyn Nyx
“The color couldn’t possibly survive in the elements for seven hundred years, surely?” Rayne looked over Chase’s shoulder to see Turner had moved close enough so that he could hear everything they were saying.
“Please continue, Rayne. Don’t mind me. I’m just keeping eyes and ears on my investment,” Turner said. “Once bitten, etcetera.”
Rayne turned her attention back to Chase and the map. They’d still not figured out how to get out of this mess, other than relying on Turner’s good will, and she trusted his word about as far as she might be able to spit him. If they couldn’t get away from him, how were they supposed to come up with a plan? Added to that, they had no idea where Owen was holding G&T, though she suspected they wouldn’t be too far away.
“Rayne?”
“Sorry. You were saying that the stones might be colored…”
“Yeah, but we’ve got to figure out which ones to follow: the ways or the gods. Thoughts?” Chase sat back on her butt, clearly waiting for Rayne’s input.
“The obvious answer would be to follow the stones of the gods. The Mayans were deeply religious and modeled their behavior to suit a huge pantheon of deities. It’s said that the Golden Trinity was their finest tribute to the gods—”
“But I’ve also read that it was the gods who gave the Mayans this treasure in the first place.”
“But if the treasure is physical, if it’s gold and silver, that can’t be true, can it?” Rayne asked. “No gods really give anything to their followers, do they?”
Chase shrugged. “As an agnostic, I’d tend to agree, but what if—”
“If their gods weren’t gods at all. What if they were aliens?”
Turner laughed. “What are you talking about? Aliens? You can’t be serious?”
Rayne waved him away. “You need to let us work. That means thinking about the impossibilities as possibilities.”
He shook his head then shrugged. “I guess you’re the experts. But we’re not looking for crystal skulls, ladies…and I use the term loosely.”
Chase waved him silent. “Please. Be quiet.”
He raised his hands and sat down. “Fine. Just be quick about it. It’s nearly nightfall.”
Turner told Nicolai and his gang to set up camp in the trees close by. Rich positioned his rifle across his chest, finger poised on the trigger. Rayne briefly closed her eyes and tried to ignore all of the external distraction. When she opened them, Chase was looking at her and smiling. “What?”
“This is most likely the worst situation we’ve ever been in, together or apart, but it’s still fantastic to be working like this with you again.”
Rayne tapped her fingernail to the map. “Then let’s get it figured out so we can move on to the next big adventure.” Rayne prayed there was conviction in her voice, because there was none in her heart.
Chase grinned and ran her hand over Rayne’s cheek. “Okay, baby.”
Rayne liked the way that sounded almost as much as the way it made her feel. “So I was saying that the obvious choice would be to follow the gods’ stones, as if the Mayans left the trail to be followed by their gods.”
Chase nodded. “That makes perfect sense. The Golden Trinity is the biggest collection of treasure unknown to humankind. It was their greatest offering. But…”
“What if the map is for mortals?” Rayne asked. “What if they constantly moved the treasure to keep it from being discovered—”
“That’s why it ended up here, so far away from any known Mayan settlements. This could be the fourth or fifth time they’d moved it to protect it from people like him.” Chase motioned toward Turner. “And each time they moved it, it was farther away from their settlements.”
“Exactly. You said the map was complicated, with much of it written with syllabograms rather than just logograms, meaning that it was only ever to be read by the elite, the most scholarly. So certain people were tasked to move it…until—”
“Until the whole Mayan civilization collapsed and no one was around to move it anymore.” Chase nodded and bounced on her butt.
“Okay.” Rayne placed her hand on Chase’s and squeezed, barely able to contain her excitement. “That would mean that the way stones are the spirit companions of the elite group who buried it here.”
Chase smiled. “That’s genius. Then we should follow the way stones to locate the cave, yes?”
“Yes! The gods wouldn’t need a map. The Mayans would have faith that if the gods ever wanted to collect, they could find it and take it whenever they wanted.” Rayne paused and tapped the map. “What if we’re wrong? It’d be relatively easy to follow one path to its conclusion, and if that conclusion wasn’t the cave, what’s stopping us from simply trying the alternative?”
Chase pointed to a particularly dense section of writing in the bottom left corner of the map. “That’s what this talks about. Following the wrong stones will take the follower around and around until they go mad or they step on the wrong one and fall to their death.”
Rayne became aware of how heavy-footed they’d been. Was it possible that this whole area was karstic, and they were delicately balanced above a whole world of fissures, undergrounds streams, and caves? “So the Mayan elite were also exceptional geologists?” Rayne didn’t hide her admiration. It was so easy to assume the modern world had all previous civilizations beat for knowledge when in fact, the opposite often proved to be true.
“It certainly looks like it, baby.”
There it was again, rolling from Chase’s tongue as naturally as if she’d been addressing Rayne that way for years. Rayne looked up to the sky. They’d been so engrossed in deciphering the map that she hadn’t noticed dusk was quickly giving way to the comforting darkness of nightfall. She looked at Turner. “We’ll have to pick this up at dawn. It’s getting dark, and if we make mistakes in this lack of light, they could be fatal.”
Turner stood and brushed at his trousers. “Okay. Camp should be ready by now.” He nodded toward Rich. “Can I assume that being held at gunpoint will be sufficient incentive not to try anything stupid?” Rayne and Chase nodded. “Good. Tying you up again would make dining and toileting more difficult than is necessary.”
He smiled and showed the white teeth Rayne remembered had stood out when they first met. She had the desire to knock them all out, more so than ever. Rayne held out her hand, and Chase nestled her own hand in it. There was little point to not being affectionate with each other. Turner had stumbled across the nature of their relationship when he caught up with them earlier that day. Rayne needed Chase close, almost clamored for the safety her proximity provided. Turner seemed relatively levelheaded, and his anger toward her seemed to have cooled considerably. Dare she hope that he’d honor his end of their deal? The Golden Trinity in exchange for G&T…and all of their freedom. Turner was proving himself to be a greedy, ambitious criminal, but there were no signs of sadistic tendencies. He hadn’t hurt them even now that he’d had ample opportunity to do so. To murder people, even to sanction it, took a certain kind of person, and maybe Turner didn’t have it in him.
Owen was a different prospect entirely. Without Turner to keep him in check, he could already have…No. Rayne didn’t want to think about that. Turner held all the cards. “We want proof of life, or we go no farther.” Rayne stopped walking toward the camp on the edge of the clearing.
“I’m surprised that it took you this long to ask.” Turner pulled the radio from his belt. “Owen. It’s me.”
“I was beginning to worry about the radio silence. Everything going according to plan on your end?”
“Yep. We’ve stopped because they need daylight for the next stage…Can you put one of her bodyguards on for me? A sign of my goodwill is required.”
Owen chuckled down the radio. “Is that so?” Another laugh. “Well, sure.”
The ensuing silence stretched on for an age.
“Hey, lady boss,” said Tonyck.
Relief washed over Rayne. Losing Pablo had
been devastating. She didn’t know how she would have coped if G&T had fallen too. “Are you both okay?”
Tonyck laughed. “You don’t need to worry about us, Rayne. We’re fine. Owen’s hospitality has belied his reputation.”
Rayne recalled the unpleasant sounds she’d heard when they’d spoken last time. Owen seemed to be living up to his reputation just fine.
“See? All good,” Owen said. “Anything else?”
“Not for now. I’ll radio with coordinates later.” Turner clipped his radio back onto his belt. “Can we proceed?”
Rayne nodded and continued toward camp. Hearing Owen had unsettled her somehow. He was a ruthless mercenary acting like a good shepherd. She hoped Turner had offered a good enough deal for him to keep his gun holstered.
Chapter Thirty-two
She and Rayne had been watched all night by one or the other of Nicolai’s goons, but Chase felt like they were being watched by something or someone else. She’d half expected a visit in the night by the three old women, but they hadn’t materialized. She nudged Rayne awake. “Time to discover the largest treasure haul in the history of the world.”
Rayne turned onto her back and yawned. “Can it wait? I could really use another couple of hours of beauty sleep, and I was having a very enjoyable dream featuring you.” She put her hand on Chase’s thigh and squeezed.
Chase removed Rayne’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “You don’t need beauty sleep. If you were to get any more gorgeous, I’d never get any work done. And we’ll have all the time in the world to make those dirty dreams into reality once we’re out of here.”
Rayne turned onto her side to face Chase. “How do you feel about what’s most likely going to happen?”
“What do you mean?” Chase asked.
“We’ll find the treasure—because that’s what we do—but you won’t get to give it to the Brazilian government, and I won’t get to keep or sell any of it.” Rayne put her finger on Chase’s lips when she went to respond. “Wait, sweet lover, I’m not done.”
Chase swallowed. Sweet lover. That. That right there had become far more important than any treasure. Her growing feelings for Rayne had crept up on Chase. She’d barely realized it had been happening, but as Rayne raised the issue of the treasure’s fate, Chase discovered that it was secondary to them getting back to America to explore their new relationship. It made sense, of course, that the treasure should be secondary to them actually surviving this adventure, but having met Turner, Chase no longer feared for their lives. He was no murderer. Chase had quietly accepted that they were most likely going to lose this treasure in the moment. The three old women spoke in riddles and made no sense. They’d managed the most important part of this expedition, ensuring the indigenous people were safe, and Chase had been thinking that once they were back safe on US soil, there was nothing to stop them from exposing Turner and revealing everything. The Brazilian authorities would do the rest, and most of the treasure would be restored to them. They had to play a longer game than they were used to, but that was okay. They still had a chance of winning in the end.
Rayne punched her arm. “Well? Did you hear any of that?”
Chase grinned. “Sorry, you sent me on an engaging train of thought with your ‘sweet lover’ comment. What was the gist?”
Rayne raised her eyebrow and looked decidedly unimpressed. “The gist was that you and I never resolved how we were going to handle our competing agendas when we finally discovered the Golden Trinity. It looks like that conflict is no longer going to happen, mainly because that bitch, Effi, fucked us. I wanted to know if that might stand in the way of you and I moving forward.”
Chase caressed Rayne’s cheek and smiled. She cursed so infrequently that it always sounded funny when she did. “It won’t.” She leaned closed and whispered, “And I have a plan. Not for now or here, for when we’re home. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier.”
“Is it heroic? Or dangerous? Or brave?”
Chase tilted her head and shrugged. “No. It’s none of those things.”
Rayne smiled and tapped her finger on Chase’s forehead gently. “Then that’s why you didn’t think of it earlier. You’re in the last chance saloon of bright ideas, and we don’t have the winning hand.” She sighed and sat up, pushing her sleeping bag down as she did. “And let me tell you, that sucks. And it hurts like hell.”
Rayne was right, as often seemed to be the case when she analyzed Chase. Chase had lost a few artifacts to Rayne in the past year, and they’d been sold to the highest bidder or some idiot who believed they were distant descendants of great queens or kings. Each occurrence did hurt like hell, and this one was no different. It was rather ironic that Rayne would now get a taste of her own medicine and didn’t like it at all. Chase didn’t want to dwell on that, on what might or might not have happened if they’d been in control of the destiny of the Golden Trinity instead of Turner. She’d figure that out before their next joint adventure if it was meant to be.
Turner came into Chase’s peripheral vision. “The curtain is up, people. Time to make me the richest man on the planet.”
Chase nodded and got up. Lap it up while it lasts, asshole.
* * *
Chase stood in front of the first lupuna tree at the far left of the cliff base. “Black, west. Three hundred feet west should be our first stone.” Chase rerolled the map and put it in her pocket. “We’re on our own from this point. The stones should hold all the information and direction we need.”
Rayne adjusted the pack across her chest and pulled on the strap. “I’ve got all three artifacts from the trees right here.”
Turner pointed to his mute buddy, Rich. “And we’ve got the original map should it be needed.”
Chase nodded. She couldn’t anticipate why they might need it, but she wasn’t about to dismiss its potential usefulness until they had the Trinity in their sight. She just hoped they could keep it in its sealed state if they did end up needing it. Exposing it would deteriorate it rapidly, so fast that it might turn to dust within minutes.
Chase slipped her arm and head through the climbing rope and let it drop across her chest. “Let’s go,” she said as she began to walk forward with Rayne at her side.
Chase stopped at just under three hundred feet and scanned the ground, covered with waist-high grass. “I’m going to need my machete,” she said to Turner. He nodded to Nicolai, who gave it to her before stepping back quickly. Chase said nothing but she had to admit that she liked his wariness of her. The bar fight was clearly fresh in his mind. She dropped her climbing rope to the ground to mark two hundred and ninety-five feet from the lupuna tree. “Stand back, baby.” She winked at Rayne before beginning to hack at the stubborn grass, slowly moving forward, and attacking a two-foot wide strip.
Chase dropped to her knees when she saw the first stone and beckoned Rayne to join her. She heard Turner speaking, but his chatter was distant and muted from her pulse pounding in her ears. The Trinity was real. “The first one, Rayne. It’s the first one.”
Rayne knelt beside her. “Oh my God…”
Rayne pulled on her utility gloves and dug at the stone along with Chase, to clear the grass growth. It took ten minutes before Chase could brush away the last of the dirt to fully uncover what the stone might tell them.
“That’s impossible…It’s maintained its color.” Chase used a wide brush to fully clear the stone. “God or spirit companion?”
Rayne traced her fingers over the top logogram. “Nupuul…counterpart, right?”
Chase nodded. “Yeah. Not bad.”
“No, then. Along with the three other logos, I think that it reads, ‘Counterpart jaguar, the way of the Holy King of…’”
“K’inich Janaab Pakal.” Chase filled in the gap after a short silence. “The last known ruler of the largest Mayan city-state before the whole civilization collapsed.”
Rayne tugged at Chase’s shirt repeatedly. “Then our theory is right. This is the
last time they moved the Trinity because they no longer existed after Pakal.”
“This is truly amazing.” Chase looked up to see Turner’s reaction, and he seemed just as wide-eyed and awestruck as they were.
“Where is it directing you to next?” he asked.
Chase returned her attention to the stone. “These bars equal five, but see how decorative they are, rather than a simple bar?” Rayne nodded. “This oval shape with the lines here,” Chase pointed to the stone, “and here, plus what looks like an eye; that’s zero.”
“Sixty feet then?” Rayne asked.
“Yep, exactly right. And yellow means south, so we’re walking parallel with the cliff face.” Chase stood and addressed Turner. “I need photos.” She motioned to the stone. “It might be that this whole clearing will collapse. I can’t just leave it. We’ve got to properly document this discovery. It’s the biggest one since Arthur Evans uncovered Knossos.”
Turner glanced at Rich, who simply shrugged. Chase supposed that if he had an opinion, he’d make Turner aware of it through sign language, though she hadn’t seen them use it yet. All of their communication had been written on erasable electronic tablets. She wondered how recently he’d lost his tongue. Rayne mentioned something about drug traffickers, but she didn’t know when it had occurred.
“Okay, but make it quick. I don’t want to run out of daylight again.” He scratched at his neck. “I’m being eaten alive by these bugs, and I want to get home.”
“Not a problem.” Chase pulled her camera from her backpack and quickly took some shots, wide to include the location, before switching lenses for close-ups to capture the intricate detail of each logogram and the writings that accompanied them.
“Part of your plan?” Rayne whispered.
Chase hadn’t thought of it that way. She’d been too excited in the presence of the stones to think about the photographs being evidence for the exposé she had in mind. She shook her head. “I just want to have something tangible to look back on in the years to come, you know? Photographs are physical memories that the brain can’t possibly re-create. When my memories inevitably begin to fade and lose definition and color, I want thousands of camera shots to remind me what a glorious and adventurous life I’ve led.”