“That was a clue, wasn’t it?” I said. “To the next emerald tablet.”
The Snake Lady brushed her hands. “Of course. We cannot allow anyone else to acquire that tablet, so we must erase the clues.”
“But you don’t have it yet either,” I realized. “Or else you wouldn’t need to destroy those clues.”
“Such a perceptive little boy.”
She poked the fire, watching the sparks crackle up the chimney. A million pounds going up in flames, and she just smiled. The money meant nothing to her organization. They would, and could, pay any price to protect their secrets.
“What tomb are you trying to hide this time?” I demanded.
“Have you heard of Quetzalcoatl?” the Snake Lady asked.
“Quetzalcoatl,” Pan said. “The Aztec god, shown as a snake with feathers.”
“The Aztecs had many gods,” the Snake Lady replied, “but Quetzalcoatl was special. He was inherited from older civilizations in Central America. The Toltecs, the Maya, the Olmecs… They all worshipped him. They gave him different names, but depicted him the same way, as a feathered serpent. To each of them he was the bringer of civilization.”
“Like Osiris in Egypt,” Pan said.
The Snake Lady clapped her hands – a limp sound, like raw steaks being slapped together. “You noticed! Such a clever girl. You see, the Aztecs did not really inherit Quetzalcoatl. They stole him. His worship and, we believe, his body.”
“His body? But he’s a god.”
“Oh, darling Pandora. You were being so clever. In Egypt, did you not insist that Osiris was ‘just a god’, right up to the moment you discovered his coffin?”
“So you’re looking for the coffin of this god, Quetzalcoatl. You think the emerald tablet is inside it, like it was in the coffin of Osiris in Egypt.”
“I do not think that. I know that. Tell me, Pandora, for Jake’s benefit. Who was Hernán Cortés?”
“Hernán Cortés was a Spanish soldier. He led the army that conquered the Aztecs.”
“Conquered?” the Snake Lady replied. “Massacred would be a better word. Cortés and his troops slaughtered the Aztecs. They destroyed their temples and burned their cities.”
“They sound like your kind of people,” I muttered.
“You know so little about my people, Jake Atlas. What we are doing is more important than you could ever imagine. Hernán Cortés and his soldiers were thieves and pirates.”
“What’s he got to do with anything, though?” Pan demanded.
“An awful lot, Pandora. Those Aztecs that survived the massacre fled, gathering whatever they could take, including Quetzalcoatl’s coffin and its emerald tablet. That was why we bought and destroyed those codices. They told of the flight of those last Aztecs, with the coffin of their feathered god.”
“So you know where they hid it?”
“Yes and no. The documents mention particular mountains in the jungles of Honduras, in Central America.”
“We know where Honduras is,” Pan spat.
“You do, Pandora. Jake, however, has no idea, so please forgive me for filling in these little details.”
I swore at her, although I wasn’t bothered. I wanted to know more about the tomb. “What other clues did the codex give you?”
She watched me for a moment, her eyes narrowing to dark slits, and then stepped closer. “There were indeed other clues,” she said. “The Aztecs did not want the knowledge of the tomb to be lost among their people. The codex is the first of three markers, which together lead to the tomb of Quetzalcoatl. It states that the next marker will be discovered at a location called the Place of the Jaguar.”
“The Place of the Jaguar?” Pan repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Precisely,” the Snake Lady replied. “We employed two of the world’s best hunters to find out.”
“Let me guess. They failed.”
“No. They vanished.”
“Vanished?”
“Do you wish me to explain that word, Jake?”
“No! Just … how could they vanish?”
“The last we heard from them, they believed they were close to locating the first marker. Then, nothing. But that is only half of the mystery. This team – we called them Alpha Squad – carried a tracker beacon, so we could follow their progress. When they vanished, so did the signal. For almost a month, it was as if both hunters simply disappeared. Then, last week, the tracking signal was reactivated.”
“Reactivated?”
“Darling Jake, are you a parrot? Yes, reactivated. Yet we have heard nothing from Alpha Squad at all. It is very curious. Only one thought gives me comfort. Alpha Squad were among the best in the business, but not the best. There is another team that I believe might fare better in the quest.”
“Who?” I asked.
“She means our parents, Jake.”
This time my laugh was real. “You think Mum and Dad will work for you? No chance. Even if you have us prisoner.”
“Oh, no! I am not keeping you prisoner. You proved yourself most capable in Egypt, and I need my best team possible. That means the Atlas family. The whole Atlas family.”
“But…” I was confused. “If you let us go, why would we work for you?”
“Ah ha! My big reveal!”
The Snake Lady picked up a tablet computer from the side table and tapped the screen. Behind her, one of the wooden wall panels slid to the side, revealing an array of weapons.
“Not that one,” she muttered.
Another tap on the tablet, and another wall panel opened. I glimpsed a control centre with black-clad figures and holospheres, maps and photographs pinned to boards.
“Not that one either,” she said, and the panel slid shut.
It was as if she was pressing buttons inside me, doubling my rage with each tap. She was winding us up, like a bully flicking your ear. Anger boiled from my belly and suddenly I charged. I don’t know exactly what happened, only that sparks sprayed, and an electric shock thrust me back to the floor. It felt as if I’d … well, as if I’d run into an electric force field. Spit ran down my chin, and a blizzard of white spots filled my vision.
“We’ll never work for you,” I groaned as Pan helped me up.
The Snake Lady looked up. Her jaw muscles clenched and her cheekbones stood out sharper than ever.
“Oh, Jake,” she said. “Of course you will.”
She tapped the screen again, this time without looking. A third wall panel slid away, revealing another chamber. It looked like a hospital room, except that it was lit by soft red lights. Machines monitored a patient lying in a bed, attended by two black-suited mercenaries – ex-military thugs the People of the Snake hired to help them keep their secrets.
“Jake!” Pan gasped.
I shook my head, clearing the spots in my vision, blurrily aware that something was suddenly very wrong. Was that…? No, it couldn’t be. With a shaky hand, I slid my smart-goggles back on and pressed their frame to my ear to talk into the microphone.
“Sami?” I said. “Sami, can you hear me?”
No reply.
He wasn’t there.
He was in the bed.
The Snake Lady stepped into the chamber and stood beside the bed. She laid a palm gently on Sami’s chest, watching it rise and fall with his short, shallow breaths. Then, suddenly Sami shot up. His eyes bulged so wide that they bled, and he began to writhe in agony, as if he was covered in stinging insects. His hands twisted, and his scream was so pained that even the black suits stepped back in shock. Recovering, they pinned him to the bed and injected him with something that stopped the seizure. Sami slumped back, unconscious.
“What have you done to him?” Pan screamed.
“It’s complicated,” the Snake Lady replied. “A poison. I cannot tell you which – only that it acted swiftly. These machines will keep him alive for another fortnight, or until he is given the antidote.”
“Give it to him!” I yelled. “Now!”
&
nbsp; This time the Snake Lady didn’t fight her smile. In the chamber’s red light her teeth looked like they were covered in blood.
“That is not how this works,” she said. “You are going to Honduras. You are going to find the Tomb of Quetzalcoatl. You are going to retrieve its emerald tablet, and you are going to deliver it to me. Then I will give you the antidote.”
Her smile spread wider. “Any more funny jokes, Jake? Any more clever lines, or silly threats? No, I thought not. Now, a driver will take you back to your parents. He will give you a bag containing fake passports, visa documents, tickets for your flight and credit cards. You will also find details of our contact in Honduras, who will supply you with any equipment you require for the expedition. If you return too late, Sami will die. If you return empty-handed, Sami will die.”
Tears blurred my eyes. “What if we don’t return at all?”
“Ah. I wish I could say that Sami would survive. It would not be as if you had not tried. But these days it is too easy to fake your own death.” She waggled a finger. “No cheating! Also, if you do die and I let Sami live, he will come after me for revenge, and that gets so tiresome. So let us just say that if you die, then Sami dies too. That way it is nice and neat. Are we clear, darlings?”
“If he dies I will kill you,” Pan seethed.
The Snake Lady clutched her chest as if she’d been stabbed in the heart. “Darling Pandora! After everything I have done for you?”
“Done for us?”
“I made you. My organization, and the work we are doing, is the reason your parents came out of retirement. It is the reason you are being trained to aid them, even though that training is going rather poorly, do you not think?”
She came even closer, her eyes glinting when she saw the looks of surprise on our faces.
“Oh! Did you really think you were hiding?” she said. “Did you not think that we have followed your every move since you caused us so much bother in Egypt? We bugged Dr Thorn’s house, listened to your conversations. You have been so desperate to find me. I felt honoured to be at the heart of so many family squabbles. Jake, Pandora, I feel such affection towards you. It is almost…”
She touched her heart again, this time a gentle stroke.
“Motherly. However, I have a job to do. You see me as a villain, but you have no idea the danger you cause by opposing us. If I must be villainous to carry out our work, then so be it.”
Behind her, the door to Sami’s hospital chamber swished shut and the panel to the control room opened. The Snake Lady’s dog followed her as she walked through the entrance.
“No more training,” she said. “This is now real. Bring me the emerald tablet or your friend dies.”
The door closed, and she was gone.
10
We were driven back to Yorkshire by one of the Snake Lady’s mercenaries, who didn’t say a word the whole journey. Pan and I didn’t talk much either. We had no idea what to say. Things couldn’t have gone worse. We’d got what we were after – a clue to the next emerald tablet – but now we were working for the Snake Lady. If we failed, Sami was dead.
Mum and Dad were waiting for us at the kitchen table when we got back. They went berserk, of course, and even berserker when we told them what had happened. Dad shouted, doors were slammed, and Mum went into her silent mode. She sat staring out of a window and stroking the Egyptian amulet she wore around her neck, a sure sign that she had reached boiling point.
The next day we were on a plane to Honduras. We were off on another treasure hunt, only now I wished to God we weren’t. I kept picturing Sami in that bed, eyes bulging and hands twisted… He’d warned us so many times to be careful, not to take risks, but I’d never listened. I had done that to him. Sami, my friend.
No one blamed me, but everyone knew it was my fault. I had shot my parents, chased the Snake Lady, and broken into her house. Mum was right: I was reckless, and I might have got one of our best friends killed.
No. We could still save him.
We would save him.
None of us spoke on the flight. Mum slept and Pan swotted up on the Aztecs. I watched an Indiana Jones movie to take my mind off Sami. Dad watched a bit too, but didn’t seem impressed.
“No one is going to find the Ark of the Covenant in Egypt,” he mumbled.
He seemed to have calmed down, so I tried a bit of chit-chat.
“Have you been to Honduras before?” I asked.
Dad glanced at me. I could tell he was considering changing the subject, but there was no point in keeping secrets now.
“No,” he said. “Never there. It was too unsafe.”
“Unsafe?”
“Honduras has the world’s highest murder rate. It’s as close to lawless as any place gets. The area we will be exploring, in the east of the country, is called the Mosquito Coast. It’s one of the wildest, least known parts of the planet.”
“That’s where the Snake Lady’s team was searching for the tomb of Quetzalcoatl?”
“Yes, somewhere in there.”
“But people don’t just vanish, not in real life.”
Dad thought about that for a second. He leaned closer and got that excited look on his face again.
“Jungles aren’t like anywhere else you’ll ever go, Jake,” he said. “People do just vanish, and often. You’re never less than five metres from something that could kill you. Savage animals. Poisonous insects. And the Mosquito Coast is the most dangerous of all jungles. Smugglers and bandits use it as a passage from North to South America. There are professional kidnappers, illegal loggers and the constant threats of dehydration, exhaustion, disease. If you do die it’s unlikely you’ll ever be found. Jungles are warm and wet, so corpses decompose at incredible speed, aided by various creatures that will eat your flesh. In some ways you’re better off dead. If you get seriously injured in a place like that there’s little help. Gangrene can set into a wound, and your body starts to rot from the inside. You become easy prey to animals. There is little you can do but watch in horror as they stalk closer, waiting for the moment to—”
“John?”
Dad looked up. Mum glared at him from across the aisle. “I think Jake has heard enough, don’t you?”
“Right,” Dad said. “I’m going to have a nap.”
There was no way I could sleep after that. By the time we reached Honduras I’d watched all the Indiana Jones films and not slept a wink.
We landed in a city named San Pedro Sula. I’d love to tell you about it, but I only saw the airport. I do know it was hot. Not dry hot, like the desert, but steamy hot, like a bathroom after a shower. Even in the middle of the night, the short walk from the plane to the airport left my T-shirt clinging to my back. The air smelled of damp laundry.
It was only as we waited to pass through security that I remembered we were wanted criminals. Dad obviously hadn’t forgotten: he double-, triple- and quadruple-checked the fake passports given to us by the Snake Lady. “Remember,” he whispered, “we are the Brown family. Not the Atlas family. We are not the Atlas family.”
“Then stop saying ‘the Atlas family’,” Pan hissed.
“We are just a happy family on holiday,” Mum said.
“In the most dangerous country in the world,” I added.
Dad muttered “stick together”, and “be ready for anything,” and Mum stroked her amulet. I tried to change the subject to get them to relax.
“You read up on this tomb we’re looking for, right, Pan? Quezakillall?”
“Quetzalcoatl,” Pan said.
“Yeah, him. Give me your top five facts.”
“History isn’t about ‘top five facts’ lists, Jake.”
“Then give me your top three.”
Pan tried to look annoyed, but she couldn’t resist. Mum edged closer too, but pretended not to listen.
“Quetzalcoatl was one of the Aztecs’ main deities,” Pan began.
Clever people always said deities instead of gods.
“
He created the Aztec civilization,” Pad continued. “He taught them how to build cities, and write, and grow crops.”
“Busy guy,” I muttered. “What else?”
“There was a pyramid temple dedicated to him in the Aztec capital, where human sacrifices were made.”
The queue shuffled forward, but I didn’t move.
“What sacrifices?”
“Human,” Pan repeated, matter-of-factly. “The Aztecs sacrificed humans to keep their gods happy.”
“But … how?”
“Different methods,” Dad said. “But mainly ritual cardiectomy.”
“You know I don’t know what that means!” I said.
“They cut out their victims’ hearts while they were still living.”
I thought I was going to be sick. “Still living? But why?”
“For the blood,” Dad replied. “If you’re alive, you bleed more. The Aztecs wanted them to bleed a lot. They wanted waterfalls of the stuff, gushing down the sides of—”
“John!” Mum snapped. “Too much information.”
“The Aztecs believed the blood fed their gods,” Pan explained. “If they didn’t, there would be an earthquake. The universe would collapse.”
“These Aztecs sound like a horror movie.”
“No, Jake.” Mum said. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking of ancient cultures as primitive. They were sophisticated people with profound religious beliefs. The Aztecs built extraordinary monuments and created beautiful artworks.”
“It was the Spanish that were savages,” Pan said. “Coming here and killing them all.”
“That’s not true either, Pandora. It is not our place to judge people in history.”
“It’s our place to steal their treasure,” I added.
All this human sacrifice stuff was gross, but it was a good distraction. By the time we reached the security desk, we didn’t look so worried about our fake passports.
The lady behind the desk took the passports and eyed us curiously.
“You are on holiday?” she asked.
Jake Atlas and the Hunt for the Feathered God Page 6