Staying with the group was a good thing, right? But then I felt confused. Which guy stayed with his group? The Spanish guy who betrayed the Mayans? Or the guy who betrayed the Spanish and lived Mayan?
We walked over bumpy limestone to the castle, which was built near the edge of the water, like a movie star's mansion. The guide talked about how the buildings were designed to show the cycles of the sun and Venus. Turns out the Mayans were pretty good at math too. Barb peered over the cliff at the narrow beach below while I watched a pair of iguanas chase each other over the rocks into a group of stunted palms. When I looked back, Barb was gone.
"Do you see my sister?" I asked the English girls, Gemma and Anna.
Gemma pointed to the cliff. "I think she might have gone exploring."
Way, way down, Barb jumped off a large gray rock onto the sand and picked up something.
"Barb!" I yelled. "Come back!"
Rock outcroppings surrounded the beach. Barb reached up to the big boulder and tried to pull herself up, looking so tiny as she threw her hands in the air. She shrieked as a wave curled around her ankles.
I started down the steep path, thinking Barb must be part mountain goat to get down this thing. I slipped in a sandy section, scraping my hand on a sharp rock. Finally I got down near the beach and jumped off the huge boulder.
Barb held up a bottle cap. "It glittered like gold from up there."
"Thousands of people walk through here every day," I said. "You're not going to find any treasure. You'd be lucky to find a seashell or an interesting rock."
I walked over to the big rock. "Let me give you a boost." I shoved her onto its stony surface, but I couldn't get back up: too short. A big wave splashed around the cuffs of my shorts. I reached with my hand and tried to find a hold for my foot, but my legs were too stubby. I plopped back on the sand just in time to be soaked by another wave. I really was going to be killed in a rip tide! And that wasn't even on my list of reasons.
Dante ran down the path, jumped onto the sand, cupped his hand, and nodded to me. I put my soggy shoe in his hands and gripped the rock.
"Thanks so much," I said.
People up above cheered, even the flower-shirted tourists. Several snapped photos. Great. I'd be the loser tourist in some stranger's scrapbook.
I scrambled up the path as quick as I could, with Dante following right behind, getting a great view of my wet butt. At least I had something exciting, not to mention true, to put in my next postcard to Fiona: Rescued by Hunky Blond Belgian. I didn't have to say it was because of my silly, treasure-seeking sister and my excessively short stature.
"Strong legs," Dante said before racing up the last few feet to meet up with Monique. I totally blushed, lost my balance, and slipped, getting sand all over my wet shirt.
Alfredo set up the picnic lunch in the field where the craftsmen had lived. Everyone snacked on fruit while he talked about the big trading canoes landing between the cliffs on the wide beach that came right into the city. Why hadn't Barb spotted gold twinkling on that actually accessible beach? I brushed more sand off my drying shirt.
"Nice going, wet one," Talia said to me before turning to Barb. "You okay, cutie? I would've rescued you."
Barb started telling Talia about the sunken pirate treasure, so I walked toward the water, pulled off my wet shoes, and waded in the surf to a flat rock. I took out my journal and added new reasons to my list. Number 43: beaches where you can get stranded and nearly killed; number 44: being the loser tourist in some stranger's scrapbook. Next to a drawing I'd started of Muluc, I quickly sketched a comical tourist photo of myself, but then Nando walked toward me, so I stashed the journal back in my knapsack.
"Have a tortilla," he said. "My mother made them."
"I'm not hungry." My stomach rumbled, but I wasn't going to let Nando be nice because he pitied me. New reason, number 45: inspiring pity from even the meanest (see number 40) tour guide.
Nando glanced at my stomach. "Try it."
I dangled my feet in the water, letting an incoming wave splash my legs.
"Okay." I bit into the soft, fresh tortilla. "This is actually pretty good." I spent only a fraction of a second worrying that Nando was trying to poison me, and then I devoured the rest of it. Nando handed me another one.
"Mi mamá makes the best," he said.
Barb ran over to us with a stack of tortillas and some fruit.
She leaned forward. "Tell us what happens to Muluc."
***
THE DAY 11 LAMAT
Dragon, Sign of the Planet Venus—the Great Star
Muluc and the other prisoners from Cobá walked all night through the jungle. The animal and spirit sounds frightened Muluc as much as her captors did. When someone fell or slowed down, the warriors whipped them with vine rope. As she began to feel weak, her hands still tied with vines, Muluc concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other and watching her step. She'd seen a girl ahead of her fall, bloodying her whole face and knocking out her front teeth.
"Leave her," a warrior said, "She's no good now—the gods won't want her, and neither will the Lords."
Muluc had looked back at the girl, obviously a commoner. The girl's pitiful whimpers made the hairs on Muluc's arms stand up straight, but she walked on, holding her head high, wondering how the warriors would treat a member of the elite class. Should she tell them? They would likely re-lease her.
In the morning, sun filtered down through the leaves, drying the blood on Muluc's cheek until it felt tight and itchy. Above, a howler monkey bounced on a branch, waiting for its mate to swing over from another tree. Yesterday she had felt as free as one of them, Muluc thought, blinking away burning tears.
Soon the group left the thick grove of trees and found themselves on a vast wasteland of sand. Muluc stumbled, falling once, but scrambled to her feet before anyone noticed. Some of the smaller children had fallen and lay bawling.
Muluc recognized a boy she'd seen fishing with his father in the lagoon. He worked his hands up and down to free them from the vines. Moments later she saw him sprint away from the group. One of the warriors ran after him but gave up after a brief chase. Muluc wished she had the spirit and strength to escape, but she wouldn't be able to find her way back anyway.
At the edge of the sand, Muluc saw the biggest water she had ever seen: it roared toward the shore, lashing out at the sand, retreating, and lashing out again. She did not walk any closer. Others stopped behind her, and children cried out. The warriors laughed and shoved the people toward crudely built cages near the water.
"Girls here," said a warrior with blue streaks painted on his cheeks. "Men who can work, here. Keep the elite separate."
Muluc started to announce her elite status, but she stopped as the man with blue streaks grabbed her bound wrists and looked at her. "You're attractive for a commoner," he said. "With the right clothes you'd almost make a princess." Muluc flushed hot with shame under his leering gaze. From behind, someone shoved her shoulder.
"Get in the cage," a voice said. Muluc turned and saw a tall man with a tattoo of a feathered snake wrapped around his neck. His long hair, tied up on top of his head, was studded with jewels. A rod of jade pierced his nose, and he wore a loincloth with an embroidered serpent climbing the World Tree. Muluc stumbled in the sand and staggered into the cage before he could touch her again.
The sun left the sky to return to the Otherworld, and the stars sparkled brightly. Muluc huddled with the other girls as a breeze cooled the sand and her bare arms.
"I'm hungry," a small girl said.
"Quiet," another whispered.
Muluc's stomach rumbled with hunger. At last she slept.
All night the blue jay squawked at her in her dreams. Sometimes the bird spoke to her in her mother's voice: "You disobeyed me. You disobeyed the king." Other times it pecked her scalp until she bled. "Listen. Listen. Don't ignore me," it screeched.
***
THE DAY 12 MULUC
Water, Thund
er, and Jade
The door opened, waking Muluc as a skinny girl with long, matted hair and tattered clothes entered the cage. Muluc had never seen such a girl at Cobá—so poor-looking, bony, and unclean. The girl carried a gourd and handed it to each of the captives, letting them drink for a moment. Muluc's mouth watered just thinking about the rich taste of chocolate. She drank a big gulp, choking on the cold, watery gruel made from the coarsest cornmeal—the kind saved for pigs! She made an effort to swallow the gritty, bland liquid without gagging.
The sun rose from the Otherworld, warming the cold sand. Soon flies buzzed around the cage. Several of the girls had wet themselves, and the air reeked. Muluc walked to the corner, squatted, and peed, trying not to get her clothes wet. She wanted to weep at such humiliation, but didn't dare draw attention to herself.
The warriors divided the men and boys into groups, putting them into large canoes, bigger than any the fishermen had on the lakes of Cobá. Among the men she noticed a few with royal markings—one looked like Parrot Nose's brother! Three men wearing royal capes kneeled on the sand. The warriors painted them with black and white stripes, whipping them with thorny vines when they didn't cooperate. Muluc felt her heart beat fast. Had the warriors made it into the city, to the royal compound, to her father's compound? She searched the faces of the captives for her family. Most of the captives looked like commoners: strong-bodied men, young boys, and girls. No elders. The warrior with the snake tattoo came over to Muluc's cage, but she avoided his eyes; acting common might keep her safe.
"Come," he said, pulling girls up by their wrists. "Dunk them in the sea," he said to the boy with him. "They stink."
The boy led the girls into the angry water; they screamed as the foamy waves splashed over their bodies, almost knocking them over. The boy grabbed Muluc.
"I'm not dirty." She pushed the boy away, so he chose a younger girl who had a yellow stain on her skirt.
The warrior with the snake ordered the girls placed in his canoe. Squeezing into the tight spaces between jars and baskets, the girls sat down on the rough wooden bottom. Many whimpered with fear.
"Don't touch anything," Snake said. "It's all more valuable than any of you."
Muluc huddled low next to a large basket that smelled sweet, like the incense her mother burned at the family altar. She buried her face in her hands and cried, just like the common girls with urine-soaked clothes.
When the sun burned high above them, the men shoved the canoes into the rolling waves. Muluc watched the shore grow distant, but the rhythm of the boat rocking in the water and the heat of the sun soon put her to sleep. She dreamed of nothing.
"Wake up." Snake jabbed Muluc with his foot. "Here."
He placed a piece of coconut in her mouth, then gave her a sip of water from a gourd. The coconut tasted sweet, like home. Snake studied Muluc, handing her a second chunk of coconut.
"You have a long forehead for a commoner," he said. "Pretty stone in your lip too."
Muluc looked down.
"They found you outside the city?" Snake asked.
"Yes," Muluc said.
"You're certainly dressed like a commoner." Snake paused. "I should get a good price for a girl like you anyway." As Snake moved away, Muluc shivered despite the warm sun.
Fear darkened Muluc's mood as clouds darkened the sky. Had they entered the Otherworld? She feared they were taking her to the edge of the world to dump her as a sacrifice to the gods. With the sharp end of the vine that bound her hands, she pierced her lip and let the blood drip onto the floor of the canoe as an offering. She prayed to the water gods that she would survive and find her family again.
That night, the canoe tossed in the dark sea. Water splashed over the sides, soaking the captive girls. Some cried, others screamed. One girl stood and tried to jump out, but Snake tied her down.
"Stupid girl," he hissed, pressing his foot into her back.
Muluc's mouth ached with thirst, so she licked the water droplets off her arm. Salt! The fresh cut on her lip stung as she hunkered down to avoid the cold spray. A bolt of lightning lit the sky in a brilliant flash. Girls shrieked.
"The gods are already pleased with us," Snake said.
Muluc knew the gods were angry. Lightning struck the sea again and again as the thunder gods called her name. If she survived this night, she could be strong. A wave washed over her, tipping the canoe at an angle. A small girl stood up, screaming for her mother.
"Sit down!" Snake yelled.
But the girl wouldn't listen, and the next big wave knocked her into the sea. The other girls sat still, stunned. Muluc tried to pierce her lip again to make an offering to the thunder gods, but the canoe shook and listed so that she could barely hang on. Again the boat tipped, and another girl tumbled into the water.
"Untie their hands," Snake said. "Or the gods will take them all."
The boy stumbled between the baskets to reach the girls. With an obsidian knife he slit Muluc's vines; quickly, as the boat shuddered in the storm, she grasped the nearest rope, knowing that Snake would have fastened his cargo so that nothing could shake it loose.
Waves crashed over the canoe as it rolled through the swells. Soon rain poured down. Muluc held tight as the boat tilted upward and rain beat at her face like tears from the gods. Over and over she repeated her prayers.
The storm ceased as the morning light seeped into the sky, turning it the delicate hues of pink, ripe melon. When Muluc released her grip on the rope, her hand cramped like an eagle's claw. She rubbed her knuckles and eased her fingers apart: a rope burn slithered across her palm like a red snake.
Muluc looked around and noticed that several baskets had disappeared and clay pots had broken. Many more girls had been lost. Snake stood at the front of the canoe staring into the water.
"There," he said to the boy. "See it?"
The boy jabbed at the water with a long spear.
"Roll it first, then spear it," Snake said.
The boy stabbed the water with more force and pulled up a giant turtle.
"Aha!" Snake laughed. "This will make up for some of my losses." He took the turtle off the spear and rubbed his hand over its multicolored shell. Muluc had never seen such a massive turtle in the lakes of Cobá. Slitting the turtle with his knife, Snake poured the entrails into a clay jar before cutting a bit of meat off the carcass.
"Mmm." Snake licked his lips and noticed Muluc staring. "You want a taste, pretty girl?"
Muluc held out her hand; Snake walked over, looking down at her palm.
"You've got a strong spirit," he said. "You held on tight." He squeezed the meat so that juices ran along the red snake on her palm. "Turtle oil will take out the sting."
Snake dropped the meat onto Muluc's palm. Her stomach rumbled with so much hunger that she would eat almost anything, and she eagerly chewed the rubbery, wet glob.
The sun rose, drying Muluc's clothes and hair; salt crystals crusted her skin like scales. Not caring about proper manners, she licked her arm; the salt made the turtle meat taste better.
A flock of big white birds flew low near the canoe—one dipped into the water, scooping up a fish in its stretchy beak. Muluc looked out at the calm, sparkling sea. In the distance, she saw a shimmer of green.
CHAPTER FIVE
Beach day! Glorious beach day. No tour activities. No Nando rolling his eyes at me. No teens ignoring me. No potential for embarrassment. Dad was still feeling a little weak, so he and Mom decided to hang out at the beach. I didn't care about jellyfish or even sharks, but I did get up early to reserve a spot under a thatched umbrella so I could avoid those cancer rays. I wrote a postcard:
***
TULUM, QUINTANA ROO, MEXICO
Hi! Yesterday I went to this beautiful Mayan castle on the Caribbean—see front.
The guys are so sweet. Dante even rescued me from a big wave.
He's a 10++. Tonight we're going clubbing at the pier in Playa.
You won't recognize me with my tan.
/>
Love 4ever, Kat
P.S. Remember, remember, remember!!!!
***
Five postcards in four days.
"What are you writing about?" Barb asked.
I hid the postcard in my journal.
"Nothing. Just about yesterday."
"About how we couldn't get up from that beach?"
"Sure," I said.
"You really should tell them about Nando's story." Barb tapped her travel journal. "I'm trying to write it all down."
"You're such a goon," I said.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Admit it," Barb said. "You like the story."
"It's okay. Not really my thing." I put my sunglasses on and laid back. Truth? I loved the story, even if I still thought Nando was a mean, and possibly dangerous, kidnapper. I kept thinking about Muluc. What would I do in her situation? I wondered if I could stay strong. Or would I be freaking out like the girls on the boat? I would've drowned in the ocean yesterday if someone hadn't rescued me. Was I good at anything? I made a list of my qualities: smart, funny sometimes, nice eyes, okay artist. Short, short, and short. Prepubescent. People took one look at me and treated me like a child. Fiona and the gang joked about my height too. I usually just laughed along with them, even when it really hurt.
Yesterday on the way back from Tulum, Talia made some dumb joke that I'd tried to sacrifice myself to the gods when I rescued Barb. Everyone laughed except the Bronze Sun Goddess and Dante, who were too busy cuddling. And Nando—he stared out the window in his usual tour bus mode.
"Are you sure you're really thirteen?" she asked. "You're so short and, you know—" She looked down at my flat chest. Then she asked Barb to come sit with her. The traitor agreed! I sat in the seat behind Nando, feeling like the world's biggest loser.
"You know, some of the best cheerleaders are short," Jessie said a few minutes later, as if she'd been contemplating my short stature the whole time.
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