The Mayan Temple

by Preston William Child

  “Of course it's not,” Purdue teased with a wink. “You want the Black Sun out of our hair, then this is the best way to neutralize them for good. Otherwise, we're just putting out one fire and waiting for another to come along.”

  Nina had stood by and listened to the debate but neither of the two men were budging on their positions. She was watching two little boys fight over something petty when they should all be on the same page. She got between them, ready to knock their heads together.

  “If anyone should be making this decision, it should be me. I was the Black Sun's prisoner for a long time. Sure, they tried to kill you. Sure, they took your things. They didn't lock you in a small little box for months! I want to get rid of this whole group just as much as you.”

  Sam looked pleased, finally getting some support.

  “But Purdue is right.”

  Sam's expression fell immediately.

  “The only way to really beat them is to take control of them. And their resources could be absolutely invaluable to us. You should see their deep vaults. They've got everything you can think of in there.”

  “I don't believe this,” Sam groaned. “So if we can't beat them...join them? That old chestnut?”

  “No,” Purdue said. “We beat them, and we're not joining them. We're redefining the teams altogether.”

  “CHARLES DIDN'T DESERVE to go out so bloody.”

  That was the undeniable truth and it was all Purdue could think as he looked at Charles. He was lying so still, but his chest was still stained with dry blood from the wound that had killed him. In those last moments, he had looked so afraid. During his time in captivity, he must have felt at least a little comfort after gaining immortality from the Spear of Destiny. He hadn't attained it by choice but once he had it, he must have felt at least a little happy that death wouldn't be able to touch him. But it had, and now he was gone for good.

  Purdue thought about all of the times he had been there for him. Whether it was helping him prepare for his many exploits or just helping him move around the artifacts in the collection room. All of those delicious dinners that Charles had prepared, the rides he had given him that were always filled with such wise words of advice during hard times. He had always been there to support him. By the end of it all, he was the closest family he had.

  Most butlers would have advised against the majority of things David Purdue took part in. Most would have never, ever gone along with any of his plans or his ideas for success. They would have tucked tail and run, thinking that Purdue was nothing more than a billionaire thrill seeker who was willing to throw his life away for some excitement. They never would have understood why he really did what he did.

  Charles understood him, he always had.

  There was no one more reliable in the world than that butler.

  It hurt to think that he would still be alive if Purdue had just been a little bit more normal; if he had less dangerous hobbies, then Charles would have spent a quiet life serving dishes, cleaning up after some spoiled rich brat, and taking leisurely drives around the countryside. Instead, he served a house that had been invaded and destroyed by a secret society.

  There were probably very few butlers in the world that had been taken hostage by murderers and been stabbed by a holy weapon like the Spear of Destiny. He was an oddity among his peers, but that was part of why he was gone.

  Purdue couldn't help but think about what Charles might have been thinking at the end. Did he regret helping Purdue? Did he regret supporting all of his globetrotting adventures or obsession with collecting some of history's most interesting relics? Did he regret it all? He hoped not.

  “He was a good man,” Sam said with a nod. “Always was. He was wonderful to talk to anytime I was over at the house. And he could prepare a hell of a meal. And if it wasn't for Charles, you never would have been able to maintain that place. It would have burned down a lot sooner than it actually did, wouldn't it?”

  Purdue managed a laugh. “That's true.”

  “You should have seen him when we were prisoners,” Nina interjected. “He gave them hell for what they did to you. When we all thought you were dead...he wasn't giving them an inch. Wanted to kill all of them for hurting you. Through the failed escape attempt and even when he was killed and revived by the Julian to test the Spear of Destiny, he never broke down and never gave up. He was resilient to the very end.”

  As terrible of an image it was to think of Charles rotting in some dungeon, it was comforting to know that it never beat him down and that he persevered through it all. Despite his advanced age, that old man was tough as hell. No one could take that away from him, even now.

  And in the end, he did help triumph over the Order of the Black Sun.

  Purdue absolutely felt guilty about his role leading up to Charles dying but he also took comfort that it seemed Charles wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

  He couldn't stop thinking about the moment when bullets were racing toward him and Charles had stood in the way. He blocked the bullets' path with his own body. He may have been immortal at the time and able to withstand them, but Purdue knew the truth—that Charles would have put himself between his boss and those bullets no matter what, with or without the immortality.

  Charles was more than his butler. He was his friend.

  He always had been.

  They covered his body, but made sure to keep Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea beside him. His last wish on that altar as he died was to conjure that book out of thin air. It was a simple wish and a far cry from Julian's hopes of godhood and world domination, but it was no less important. They would honor his final wish.

  Purdue thought back to a night when Charles was sitting in one of the lounge chairs by the fireplace. He had built the fire himself and was sitting beside it with so much pride, knowing that his hard work had brought him immeasurable relaxation. He had Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by his side like he usually did during his rest times.

  “It's always that one,” Purdue had said. “I feel like you've been reading it for years. What's taking so long? Slow read?”

  Charles just gave a knowing smile. “I would give anything to be able to read this novel for the first time again, but alas, my first reading of it was long ago when I was a very, very young man. No, I have loved this book for decades, sir. I have read it hundreds of times.”

  “Hundreds, aye?” Purdue stood over him, his arms folded, bewildered by what he was hearing. “The same story hundreds of times. You know all the characters. You know all the plot twists. You know how it ends. Hell, you must know every single word on every single page by heart by now. Don't you ever get bored?”

  “Bored?” Charles looked stunned by the question, like he couldn't fathom why it would ever be asked. “Heavens no, sir! How could I ever be bored by such a perfect story. The exploits of the Nautilus, led by the steadfast Captain Nemo! Going out of his way to explore places that the world had never seen. Facing challenges that most men could never comprehend. Persevering through it all despite all of the odds being stacked against him. Adventure. Discovery. It has it all.”

  It just occurred to Purdue—looking at his butler's lifeless body resting beside that book that he loved so much—that Charles' favorite novel might have been exactly why he had so diligently helped Purdue for so long. He didn't just want to read about the exploits of one man traveling the world and discovering amazing things, he wanted to be part of it. He wanted to help make that story he loved become a reality, and David Purdue was just as much of an adventurer as Captain Nemo.

  Without Charles, those exploits he went on would be far different. There wouldn't be a warm meal and a smooth drink waiting for him upon his return from his travels. There wouldn't be someone he could count on to make the preparations for his expeditions.

  Nina took Purdue's hand and squeezed it tight.

  “He loved you like a son, you know.”

  Purdue smiled and picked up the Jules Verne novel. Charles
wouldn't have wanted him to just throw it away or bury it with him. He would want Purdue to read it and take in every single page of it. And that was exactly what Purdue intended to do.

  “Aye, I know he did.”

  THERE WAS another book besides Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea that was on Purdue's mind, but he hadn't given it much thought since Jean-Luc had used it to help hurt Julian. It was only when Jean looked like he was ready to depart, that that book of shadows found its way back to the forefront of Purdue's thoughts.

  Jean gave them all a curt nod. “It's been...a crazy few months...but I'll be on my way then. Hopefully, they haven't cleared out my shop.”

  Purdue didn't miss the dark leather-bound book tucked under Jean-Luc's arm. He gave a cough and then nodded toward the journal.

  “And where do you think you're taking that book?”

  Jean faked some surprise, acting as if he didn't realize he still had the book of shadows but Purdue saw right through that faux embarrassment.

  Purdue continued, shaking his head. “I seem to recall that we found that spell book together, and we determined that it would be the safest in my care, aye? Isn't that right?”

  Jean gave a little laugh, but it just barely slipped through the tension that was starting to form on his face. He was getting defensive.

  “We did decide that it would be safest with you, yes...but how well did that turn out?”

  Purdue couldn't exactly argue with that point. Almost immediately after they had put the pages of the book of shadows together, all of Purdue's artifacts were taken and then all hell broke loose. The book of shadows was the only thing he had been able to hold onto at that time. The one thing he could salvage from that horrible defeat.

  “I kept it out of the Black Sun's hands at least,” Purdue said.

  “But it was far too close of a call for my comfort. Looking for this book is what began our partnership...I have just as much claim to it as you do. More even...since I have proven that I understand how to use its contents.”

  He wasn't wrong about that either. Jean-Luc Gerard was an expert in the occult studies and his years of accumulating that knowledge had allowed him to use far more of the book's power than Purdue ever could. Hell, Purdue was so intimidated by the pages inside that he barely ever opened the book at all. When it came to a supernatural—one might even say haunted—relic like that grimoire, he was a novice. Maybe he wasn't the best person to be the book's keeper after all.

  Jean could clearly see the wheels turning in Purdue's head. He smiled, knowingly. “You know I'm right.”

  “I do,” Purdue admitted. “It's just...we went through a lot to get that book, remember? It's tough to part ways with something that you worked so hard to get.”

  “I understand and I agree,” Jean said, having been with him every step of that way of that particular journey. “We went through a lot to get that book but you have your collection of all kinds of artifacts back, and the items in the Black Sun's vaults too. You have more than enough old trinkets to keep you company.”

  Purdue did feel a little selfish, but he wasn't used to having to give away his things. He much preferred hording them and keeping them safe. But after Julian Corvus and the Order of the Black Sun raided his collection, his faith in himself was rattled. He wasn't as confident that he could protect his own belongings anymore. And now that he had all of those relics back, he wanted to hold onto them more tightly than ever.

  But when it came down to it, Jean was right. He was a better choice to keep the book of shadows safe.

  Jean gave a toothy smile. “If you're really that heartbroken about losing it, you're always welcome to come on down to the store and take a peek at it...with my permission of course.”

  Purdue smiled back. “Fair enough.”

  Jean's face flushed with surprise. “Really?”

  “Really. I trust you, Jean. Just think of it as a reward for the months of shit you went through with the Black Sun.”

  “Wow,” Jean said, looking at the old book in his hands. “I thought I was going to have to pry the book out of your cold, dead hands.”

  Purdue put his hands up in surrender and chuckled. “There's no need for anything like that. It's yours.”

  Jean's fingers tightened on the book in his hands, squeezing it tight, like he was afraid it was going to blow away. It was no secret how long he had been hoping to read the completed book of shadows. He had started off with only one page, and now here he was, finally in possession of the book, with no one setting any parameters or restrictions. He could finally read it and study its power to his heart's content.

  Jean looked up, his eyes wide but full of appreciation. “Thank you.”

  “You're welcome,” Purdue said with a causal shrug, trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal at all. “Honestly, that journal gives me all kinds of bad feelings. My life will be a lot nicer without it being around to creep me out. That witch, Mona Greer, has been haunting me far too long...but I'm sure I'll be in New Orleans at some point, so you owe me a whole fun day on Bourbon Street.”

  “Drinks are on me,” Jean said, holding the book up. “Or maybe I could just conjure us up as many drinks as we want. Who knows?”

  “Happy reading,” Purdue said. “And safe travels home. I'll see you around at some point.”

  When Jean-Luc Gerard was gone, Purdue realized that some of his more recent acquisitions were finding their way into others' hands. Galen took the Spear of Destiny and now Jean-Luc could finally add the book of shadows to his little bookshop's shelves. The people who had been part of those respective ventures were winding up with those artifacts in the end—for better or worse.

  But if Purdue had his way, then Galen wouldn't have the Spear of Destiny for long. That would need to be addressed. The less threats that he had from now on, the better things would be. The things Purdue had in mind for the future would be hard enough without having to worry about grudges that should have been buried a long time ago.

  WHEN THE NEWS stations dared to go back to the Mayan temple in the Arctic, there was very little for them to find. The temple was nowhere to be found and left no trace that it had ever been there at all. The only things that remained were the circle of black helicopters that once formed a perimeter around the place. The other was the body of a young woman, who coroners later determined had died from a large fall. They would never discover the handful of guards that were dead under the ice a short distance away. No one could explain it but many of the reporters regretted listening to that mysterious organization that demanded that they leave for a short while. Whatever had happened, it had taken their big news story from them.

  They had no idea how the temple bounced around different parts of the world. They had no idea that they should even still be looking for it anywhere. To them, it had just dissipated from all existence and the best they could do would be to wait and hope something similar happened again. If it ever did, they would have the attention of the entire world back in their hands.

  With the discovery of a body at the scene, though, came investigative measures. Upon further research of the victim found on the ice, having fallen to her death from a building that no longer seemed to exist, they found no records of the young woman's identity. She had no matching fingerprints and wasn't identified by any facial recognition software. She might as well have been a ghost since there was no indication of who she was before her death.

  The girl was nameless and completely unidentifiable. There was nothing about her that they could use to help figure out who she was. She was a perfectly blank slate, with nothing to leave behind but a few frozen tears. They would never figure out who she was, but that was rather fitting given Kendra's own views of herself. She would have told them that there was nothing to figure out, since the victim hadn't been anyone at all. She was simply the mannequin that would dress up sometimes, pretend to be someone else, but never have a soul of her own.

  The reporters and investigators knew that there wa
s a piece of the story that they were missing, but they didn't know how large of a chunk it really was. They would never know that they were standing on the remnants of a battlefield where a feud between one former billionaire and a secret society took place. That was the story that they would really want, but they had less of evidence of it existing than they did of that young victim's identity.

  There was nothing left behind in the Arctic, not really. Nothing but an unknown dead woman, a handful of stolen helicopters, and a missing Mayan temple. It wasn't even worth publishing a follow up story. Most people already probably thought it was a hoax.

  They would never know the truth of what happened inside that temple.

  18

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – RESTRUCTURING

  The facility was nearly empty. Most members of the Black Sun had scattered to the ends of the earth, slunk into the holes that they had initially crawled out of, abandoned the cause the second they lost. Elijah felt proud to have been part of that defeat and he walked through the empty facility with a great deal of satisfaction. For so long, those halls had been filled with arrogant murderers that thought they could just steamroll their way through the rest of the world. There were a few that remained, mostly the new recruits who weren't entirely sure what had even happened or whose side they were supposed to be on.

  The Order of the Black Sun had so recently been reorganized under the leadership of Julian Corvus. That psychopath had meticulously restructured how things operated within the order. He got rid of the old leadership like the council and the veterans that couldn't and wouldn't adapt to his new ways. He had recruited ambitious minds with useful skill sets that he could mold and twist for the future plans he had. He had made an already dangerous organization downright vicious in how they performed their objectives. There was no code of conduct and there was no rule except one—to serve the Order of the Black Sun without question.

  But now, that new order he had forged had shattered completely into millions of pieces; from the lowest informants, spies, and consultants, to the brutal enforcers and agents strong-arming their way to priceless pieces of history all over the globe. Even the inner most circle of the order had seen their best laid plans fall apart before their eyes.