by Meg Cowley
Stalactites loomed before us as we kept to the roof of the caves, not needing to go deeper, steadily kicking our way through the cenote. It felt like an age before the ceiling rose sharply away from us and we were under the temple of Kukulkan, the pride and joy of Chichén Itzá itself.
The light of Kukulkan’s Skull by this point, which had been steadily growing as our proximity neared, eclipsed us all until it lit the huge cavern almost entirely. It was an unnerving sensation, feeling like we floated helplessly in the midst of nothing in such a huge space.
Once more, I fought to keep my breathing under control. Juan, looking back towards me, kicked my way and grasped my hand, squeezing it tightly. I squeezed back in silent thanks, and then screamed, for before me was not Juan, but the skeletal man he had become in my dreams. Bubbles streamed upwards from my mask as I backpedalled, slamming into the wall of the cave. I turned. Bones. Bones everywhere. Not rocks, not stalactites, but bones. The hissing grew louder and I realised with horror that my tank had punctured.
The skeletal Juan raced towards me with magic blooming brightly in his hands. I couldn’t escape; my back pressed against the cave walls. He grasped my wrists and I struggled, a futile attempt to free myself, but suddenly, there he was: the Juan I knew, not the skeleton of my nightmares. And the walls were stone once more.
But, as I breathed in, my tank was empty. I met his eyes with panic, and he took a deep breath, and slipped me his breathing regulator. He pointed between us and the mask. Share. He would share it with me. I looked at his pressure gauge. There wasn’t much air in his tank, either. I nodded. I didn’t want to die. Not here. Not like this. We had to do this. Before Kukulkan’s strange, warped magic could affect me — us — again.
Felicia grasped one hand as Juan released it, still holding onto my wrist. My fingers laced with his after he took the regulator for a deep breath and set it back in my mouth, before fumbling to his own spare one, so we could both breathe. Together, we called our magic forth to send Kukulkan’s Skull down to its watery grave. It sank in a matter of seconds, and its light grew and grew until we could see the bottom of the chamber, far below us.
An altar of bones.
Just as I had seen in my nightmare.
Kukulkan’s Skull sank onto it, and his magic intensified. I could feel it draining us. Leeching our power as its own grew. The carvings upon it glowed with fierce, greenish light that cast a sickly pallor over the cavern.
Sleep, we called to it with our own magic, pushing it, forcing it to surrender.
It pushed back.
We pushed harder.
Sleep. Quiescent. Calm. Peace. Rest.
Slowly, it subsided.
Felicia tugged us away, pointing for the exit urgently. A rumble emanated around us. Stalactites descended from the ceiling in slow motion, picking up speed as they hurtled to crash into the floor of bones. They kicked up clouds of debris as they smashed the bones below.
That was all the encouragement I needed. I turned and, hand in hand with Juan, we kicked frantically, following my golden thread back out of the cavern and into the darkness, away from the baleful glare of Kukulkan’s Skull. The tunnel collapsed around us, and spurred on by our desperation, we summoned currents to propel us at speed. Stalactites loomed faster and faster through the darkness, and we dodged around them even as they cracked and fell from the ceiling.
There, ahead at last, we could see the pale glimmer of moonlight. I was glad we hadn’t descended far enough to need a safety stop before we ascended because I couldn’t bear to be in the water any longer. Its dark essence seemed to pull me back, trying to claim me forever in this underworld. The water rumbled behind us as the tunnel collapsed, and for a moment, I thought it would take us with it as stones caught and tore at my legs, my fins, my fingers. And then we were free of the oppressive stone above us, and rising up to stars that glimmered, rippling beyond the water.
Our faces burst through the surface and I gathered every ounce of magic I had to catapult us through the air and up to the ledge, where we landed sprawled in a heap. I spat out the regulator and ripped the mask away from my face and lay there, gulping in as much air as I could.
Alive. Air. Breeze. Moonlight. We made it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad in my entire life to be alive as I was in that moment. I felt like I had truly escaped the Mayan underworld.
Juan’s hand was tight in mine as we lay there, savouring our freedom. Minutes ticked by before we moved, before we spoke.
“Thank you.” I turned to give him a weak smile.
His only answer was to squeeze my hand.
“We did it?” I asked.
“Yes,” Felicia answered heavily. “We did it. I think now the skull will be protected by physical barriers, too — even more than before — not only our magical ones. I do not think that way will be clear anymore.”
“Kukulkan nearly claimed us, didn’t he?” It was not a question, but I wanted someone else to confirm it. To confirm what I had seen, what we had witnessed.
“He tried to, and he failed,” Juan’s voice was filled with relief and satisfaction. “Senator Gonzalez could not stop us, and neither could Kukulkan himself. We have righted what was wrong. Now, Kukulkan has his rightful place to rest for all eternity… and we can breathe easy, knowing his powers will never be misused.”
I felt far too drained to feel relieved we had succeeded against the odds, but it would come.
Chapter Ten
In the bright, warm sun, the previous night seemed a nightmare. A gentle breeze caressed my tangled hair. Juan captured a stray strand and tucked it behind my ear with a warm smile.
“Chica, it’s been my honour. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, Zoe, for your help. I could not have done it without you.” He embraced me tightly in his strong, solid arms.
For a moment, I felt a flicker of satisfaction, of a warmth my solitary lifestyle never allowed me to feel: of a true, deep friendship forged for a lifetime. No matter where I went in the world, Juan’s steady smile, his twinkling eyes, and his lazy grin would stay with me. It wasn’t often I warmed to people like this, and for once, it was nice to feel like I had a real friend somewhere in the world.
“I’m glad to have met you, too, Juan.” I let genuine affection shine for a moment through my normally impassive mask as I stepped back with his hands still on my shoulders.
“Any time you’re in Mexico, you call me. Promise?”
“Promise. Though, you’ll be busy for quite a while with all this.” I gestured at the crates around me, all in some stage of unpacking. Juan had been promoted by Felicia to oversee the safekeeping and restoration of all the artefacts recovered from the dig site, which had now made it onto mainstream news worldwide. It would be a mammoth task to restore, catalogue, and protect them and the dig site, but if I knew anyone was up to the task, it would have been him. I’d met few people with such genuine dedication to our field.
I was sure Gonzalez’s escape would be big news, too: the head of cultural protection being corrupt and profiting from the theft and sale of his own country’s history. Felicia had already promised, with relish, that he would be found and brought to justice for his many crimes; some of which, the investigation linked to him were cold cases dating back several decades.
It hadn’t been exactly the low-key mission Duncan had hoped for. I decided I could take one much needed day off diving back into the maelstrom, at least. Then I’d clock off and face Duncan’s wrath.
“Do you have to go home?” The twinkle in Juan’s eyes turned suggestive as he tilted his head to give me a flirtatious grin. “I could use some help.”
I didn’t suppress my guffaw as I pushed him lightly away. He let himself be driven back and shrugged carelessly, giving me a wink that said, “I had to try.”
“See you, Juan.”
“Soon, chica.”
I turned to leave, but Felicia stopped me.
“Thanks again, Zoe,” she said much more serious than Juan,
but her sincerity was just as genuine.
“Anytime, Felicia.” I stuck out my hand.
She tutted at me and gathered me in a hug, instead, kissing me on either cheek. “You English people… Stay in touch.”
“Let me know how things go. Good luck!”
Felicia turned and sighed at the mountain of work before her, and with the last flash of a smile, turned to join Juan as he unboxed a piece of carved stone.
I left.
~
I sat down, aching and bruised, after what had been one of my most difficult and dangerous jobs to date, on a plush lounger with my favourite cocktail in hand. The calm seas off Maroma Beach and the swishing palm trees were a gentle lullaby as I struggled to stay awake, stretched out on the pale sands of the Mexican Riviera for my last night in Mexico.
Tonight, I would sleep in a proper hotel with running water, electric, air conditioning… and a bed. A proper bed. I couldn’t even remember how many nights it had been since I’d enjoyed fresh blankets, soft pillows, and a mattress. I’d already thoroughly tested the shower. I always enjoyed the first wash after finishing a job. I felt ultra, squeaky clean.
I sipped at my margarita, enjoying the cool liquid flowing down my throat, when my phone rang, shattering the peace. I cursed, but I had no choice; I had to answer. I definitely should not have bought a replacement phone and told the museum how to contact me.
“Yes?”
“Switchboard for the Great British History Museum. I have one Hayley Bevan for you.”
I sighed. “Sure. Yes?” I didn’t care if I was being rude. I needed a break, and this had better be quick.
“Zoe Stark?”
“Yes?”
“Hayley Bevan. I’m not sure if you remember me, but we met at the lecture on African mythological & religious objects five months ago. It was my understanding that you specialised in the investigation of mythical artefacts,” the voice stammered. I remembered her, barely. We’d barely spoken. I’d found her too tame. She’d found me too wild. “I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.”
“Mmm.”
“I’ve been conducting some research into the cintamani stone and was wondering if you’ve heard of it?” She cleared her throat and hung on the end of the line.
I sighed. “Yeah. Sure.” I knew of it: a long-lost Buddhist artefact with mythical powers.
“Well, I’ve garnered a little information through my research, but given your experience in these matters, I was wondering…”
I bit back my frustration as she dithered.
“Would you say it was worth killing for?”
“In my experience, there’s very little people aren’t willing to kill over.” I scoffed, but my interest was piqued. Who would ring a stranger on the other side of the world to ask a weird question like that? And why would an Ordinary be interested in a legendary relic like the cintamani stone?
My head stabbed as another wave of exhaustion rolled over me. I didn’t have the energy. “Look, I’m on holiday now. Call my museum if you need anything else. I have to go, bye.”
“Ms Stark, please wait.” Something in her voice made me pause, about to hang up. “I know this sounds ridiculous, but do you think it’s real. I mean... do you think it’s really magic?”
Anxiety flashed through me. “What have you found?” I demanded. Did she know about magic? How had she found out?
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “Thank you for your help. If I need anything, I’ll call the museum, as you suggested.” I stared at my phone as the line went dead.
I toyed for just an instant with the thought of returning home hastily… but the margarita and the sunshine called for me to stay, to relax for just a little while longer. Duncan, Hayley, and the cintamani stone could wait a day. I had definitely earned my day off. I rolled my shoulders, sighing at the ache. Better late than never, I’d be booking in for that massage before I left. Who knew when I’d get another chance.
I reclined on the lounger, smiling at the waiter who was already bringing me another drink, and fished for a crumpled note to tip him. I knew I’d be in trouble for this whole mess — even though I had done my job and Kukulkan’s Skull was now safe — but that was a problem for tomorrow.
~
~ The End ~
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Meet Jamie Oxford, wizard and magical relic hunter.
How much is the power to kill the world worth?
Jamie is sure that a magical relic in the hands of non-magical Ordinaries is not going to end well. When Pandora’s Box is discovered, he takes it upon himself to make sure it is protected as it ought to be – with magic.
His plan backfires spectacularly and Jamie finds himself on the run from the law, without the box, and completely isolated.
Pandora’s Box is gone, and Jamie can no longer be sure who is friend or enemy as he hunts for it before it falls into the wrong hands… hands that could open the box, unleash the powers within upon the world, and end humanity.
Can one rogue really stop that?
Fans of Lara Croft and Indiana Jones will enjoy this fast-paced urban fantasy adventure series filled with magic, action and kick-ass characters.
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Hidden
Magic
Relic Guardians Book Two
Victoria DeLuis
Meg Cowley
Preorder Hidden Magic
Fans of Lara Croft and Indiana Jones will enjoy this fast-paced urban fantasy adventure series filled with magic, action, and kick-ass characters.
One little stone holds the key to multiple realities... and their survival.
On secondment from the British Archaeological Museum, curator Hayley Bevan is in New York cataloguing the exciting discoveries from an ancient Buddhist temple. But beneath the ordinary exterior of the world, there’s a magical underground operating on the fringes of society, and Hayley is about to discover more than she bargained for.
One impulsive act catapults Hayley out of her ordinary world and into one full of danger, wish fulfilling stones, and doorways to alternate realities.
Can Hayley find her place is the world of magic, or will she fall victim to a ruthless killer hell bent on getting what he wants?
Enter the Ley Line World and join the Relic Guardians: Zoe Stark, the no nonsense witch and bounty hunter, and Hayley Bevan, the museum curator newly endowed with magical powers, as they r
ace against time to recover magical artefacts, defeat their enemies, and save the world from impending doom.
~ A Preview ~
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Chapter One
I gripped the door handle as the cabbie tore round the corner and joined the thundering traffic on Grand Central Parkway. Blankets of dark cloud released a torrential load that pounded on the roof of the taxi and obscured my view through the window.
If I wiped away the condensation caused by my breath on the glass and squinted through the droplets, I could just make out the strobe lights of aircraft overhead. “How much longer?” I asked the driver.
“Twenty minutes if we're lucky.” He smiled at me in the mirror before returning his attention to the road.
I looked at my phone. Twenty past five. Great. This day had barely started, but it kept getting better and better. First no wake-up call and then no pickup. Instead of experiencing the comfort of the museum’s Audi A4, I was sat on a spongy seat, pinned by a seat belt that kept tightening itself around my chest, and enjoying the lingering stench of sweat, Thai food, and banana air freshener.
Stress tightened my chest and wrinkled my brow. I fought the urge to nibble my fingers and glanced at the time again. Damn it! I smoothed the creases out of my forehead, took a deep breath and dialled Ben’s number for the umpteenth time.
For a heartbeat, I thought he might answer, but no, I went through to voicemail. “Hi Ben,” I said. “It’s Hayley. Again. I’m not sure if you’re still asleep. I tried banging on your door, but couldn’t wait any longer. I’m on my way to meet the shipment. The museum car was a no show, so I grabbed a taxi. Hopefully, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Call me as soon as you get this message, okay.”