The Lost City

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The Lost City Page 10

by J


  “I wish I could believe that, young lord.”

  Max tried to think of a subject to distract Lord 6-Dog. “Will you tell me about your dream? The one that changed your mind about coming with us?”

  Lord 6-Dog looked even sadder. “It was from my father, Punak Ha. He told me that my destiny lies across this ocean.”

  “Well, that sounds hopeful,” said Max.

  “He said that this will be my final journey.”

  “Oh. We’re not going to sink, are we?”

  “He said that Tzelek awaits me at journey’s end.”

  “For your final battle? That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “He said I will not beat Tzelek if I fight him.”

  “Oh.”

  They sat in miserable silence.

  “Let’s explore the Espada,” suggested Max. “Maybe we’ll find some Spanish gold.”

  “I doubt thine uncle has left us any pickings.”

  “You never know.”

  Max fetched some flashlights from the sub, then he and Lord 6-Dog climbed over the slippery rocks to where the galleon sat in stately decay. Bits of ship—splintered beams, broken spars, rotted canvas, and rusty nails—lay everywhere. An upended cannon, covered in barnacles and plugged with seaweed, pointed uselessly at the cave roof. But the vessel itself was still more or less intact, as if it had sailed straight out of a history book and into this cave. Only the nylon rope ladder that hung over the side gave any clue that they were not the first to discover it.

  Max and Lord 6-Dog climbed up the ladder and onto the deck.

  The ship had come to rest at a crazy angle and Max had to walk slowly, with his arms held out like a tightrope walker, to keep his balance.

  “Hold on to my tail to steady thyself,” Lord 6-Dog instructed him as they walked over the buckled and broken boards.

  In the center of the deck was an open hatch. Max shone his flashlight into the darkness and saw a steep staircase that disappeared into oily black water. Disturbed by the beam of light, something slithered into the water with a splash, leaving ripples on the surface.

  “That must be the hold where they found the treasure,” said Max.

  Lord 6-Dog peered down. “Naught down there now but rats.”

  “Aren’t rats supposed to desert a sinking ship?”

  “Rats can survive anywhere. Ask Tzelek.”

  Changing the subject quickly, Max said, “Let’s find the captain’s quarters. You go first.”

  Using Lord 6-Dog’s tail as a rope, Max inched his way to the stern of the boat and pulled himself up to the quarterdeck, where the Spanish sea captain had once stood.

  Max gripped the broken spokes of the ship’s wheel and imagined setting sail for home, full of hope, and treasure, and tales of adventure. Then he imagined the terror of sinking right there in the bay, still within sight of the teeming jungle.

  “Do you remember when we went to Spain?” he asked Lord 6-Dog, who was sniffing at the green mossy mold on the woodwork to see if it was edible.

  “Of course I do, young lord. A dry and barren place where the cheese stinks like dung beetles. No wonder those barbarian conquistadors sailed far and wide.”

  “I don’t think it was the cheese—” began Max, when a noise behind him made him jump. He spun around with the flashlight to see a skull tumble to the floor in the cabin behind them. A small crab climbed guiltily out of an eye socket and scuttled away.

  “It is the Spanish sea captain,” said Lord 6-Dog, sounding slightly shaken. “I last saw him on the dock at Puerto Muerto. I cursed him and he laughed at me.”

  The open doorway of the cabin was draped in cobwebs like lace curtains. Spiders of all sizes ran for their lives into cracks in the door frame as Max cleared the cobwebs away with the handle of his flashlight. There, inside the cabin, sat the headless skeleton of the long-dead captain.

  “He’s not laughing now,” said Max.

  The skeleton was posed in a carved wooden chair, elbows on the armrests, hands in his lap. The chair had been nailed to the cabin floor to prevent it rolling on the high seas. Dried seaweed draped the chair back like a cape, and sea snails left silver trails on the captain’s yellowed bones.

  “So,” said Lord 6-Dog to the moldering rib cage, “we meet again, thou lily-livered coward.”

  “He went down with the ship,” Max pointed out. “That was brave.”

  Lord 6-Dog looked with scorn at the skeleton. “Not brave,” he said. “Greedy.”

  “Greedy?”

  “It seems there was one piece of treasure he would not relinquish even in death.”

  Max looked around the cabin. It was completely empty, apart from bits of rotting debris. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Look harder. Thine uncle missed the most precious thing of all.”

  “He did?” Max looked around again. He didn’t see so much as a rusty spoon.

  “There.” Lord 6-Dog pointed at the hands of the skeleton, resting calmly in his lap.

  “His bones?” Max was confused.

  “Not his bones. The bone that he holds in his hands.”

  Now that Max looked more closely, he saw that in among the dusty, cobwebby tangle of yellow finger bones was a larger bone from a leg or an arm. It was browner than the rest and looked much older.

  Lord 6-Dog fell to his knees and chanted in Mayan.

  “Are you talking to that bone?” Max asked him incredulously.

  “I am addressing its owner, Yax Tuun Ah Muuch. Jade Frog to thee. He was the founder of my dynasty.”

  “And he owned that bone?”

  “It was in his leg.”

  “Gross. How do you know it’s his?”

  After reciting what sounded like a Maya prayer, Lord 6-Dog delicately picked up the leg-bone and blew off the dust. He held it out reverently, and Max saw that it was covered in faint inscriptions. “It is unmistakable. It was carved after his death.”

  “But why would a Spanish sea captain be holding a Maya king’s leg-bone? I mean, of all the things he could have grabbed when he was going down with the ship. Do leg-bones float?”

  “This leg-bone is special. Perhaps he hoped it would give him immortality.”

  “What’s so special about it?”

  “It is the scepter of the Jaguar Kings. It was handed down from king to king through the generations. I had thought it was lost forever. With this, I can beat Tzelek.”

  “But what about your dream? I thought your father said—”

  “Maybe sometimes, young lord, dreams are just dreams!”

  “So what does it do, this scepter?”

  Lord 6-Dog’s eyes glittered with triumph. “It changes everything!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE GULF

  Lola and Lucky were sitting on the rock slab waiting for them. Lord 6-Dog bounded over, holding high the leg-bone of his ancestor. Max made his way more slowly over the rocks and wasn’t there to hear the king’s announcement about his find. But from the lack of excited voices in response, he guessed that Lucky and Lola had also failed to greet Jade Frog’s moldering leg-bone with enthusiasm.

  “Dost thou not see?” Lord 6-Dog was saying when Max arrived at the makeshift dock. “It was the Jaguar Kings who guided us into this cave. It was they who put this scepter into my hands. They have given me what I need to vanquish Tzelek once and for all.”

  They all looked at the ancient brown bone.

  Lola voiced their skepticism. “You’re going to vanquish Tzelek with that old thing? How?”

  “It is the scepter of the Jaguar Kings.”

  “But what does it do, exactly?”

  “It channels the power of the Jaguar Stones.”

  Understanding dawned on Lola’s face. “He doesn’t know how to use it,” she whispered to Max.

  Lucky stood up. “The tide is turning.”

  Lord 6-Dog patted the leg-bone. “Indeed, it is.”

  “No,” said Lucky. “The actual tide is turning. It’s time to go.”
He went to open the hatch to the submarine. “All aboard. Again.”

  “Dibs on copilot,” said Lola.

  “Get ready to dive, everyone,” said Lucky. “We’re going back the way we came.”

  This time their descent was smooth and slow.

  Lucky was studying the radar. “I don’t see the coast guard vessel anywhere. They must have found bigger fish to fry.”

  A large grouper swimming by the windscreen puckered its lips as if blowing a kiss.

  Max went and lay on a bunk to study the guidebooks, but once again the heat and vibrations and smell made his head spin.

  Above him, Lord 6-Dog whispered in Mayan to Jade Frog’s leg-bone.

  Soon, both boy and monkey were in the land of dreams.

  “What did I miss?” asked Max hours later, climbing up to the cockpit.

  “Whale sharks, dolphins, and a giant barracuda,” said Lola. “The fish in the gulf were amazing.”

  Max peered out of the porthole, but all was dark. “Did you see the coast guard again?”

  “No. But we nearly collided with a trawler.”

  “So where are we now?”

  “Coming into New Orleans. Is Lord 6-Dog still asleep?”

  “I’ll go wake him up.”

  Max ran back down and tapped Lord 6-Dog on the shoulder. “Rise and shine!”

  Lord 6-Dog shot up, snarling. He clutched at the leg-bone, as if Max had been trying to steal it.

  “Chill,” said Max, backing away. “I just came to tell you that we’re nearly there, so if you want to, um …” He was going to say take off your pajamas, but he wasn’t sure about the etiquette of giving wardrobe advice to a Maya king, so he finished vaguely, “… if you want to get ready.”

  “I have the scepter of the Jaguar Kings, I am ready for anything.”

  “Um, okay, then. Let’s go up.”

  Lola greeted them excitedly. “Look!” she said, pointing to the video screen. “New Orleans! Look at all the lights! Please surface, Lucky, so I can see it properly.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” replied Lucky. “We have to sneak around the back, find a quiet bayou to tie up in.”

  “A bayou?” Max pulled a face. “I don’t like the sound of that. The guidebook said that bayous have alligators and leeches.”

  Lucky rolled his eyes. “I’ll tie up close to the bank.”

  “Pleeeeeease,” Lola was begging. “Can’t we just surface for one little minute?”

  “We’re not tourists,” Lucky reminded her. “We’re here on business.”

  “But I’ve never been on vacation in my whole life.”

  Lucky relented. “Just a quick look, but then we need to stay under. None of us have documentation if we get stopped.”

  “Speak for thyself,” said Lord 6-Dog. “I have the leg-bone of my ancestor.”

  “I’m fairly sure that’s not a recognized form of identification around here,” said Lucky. He brought the sub up until they were floating on the water. “Now take a quick peek, Lola, and let’s get out of here.”

  As soon as she opened the hatch door, they were serenaded by the sounds of distant trumpets, trombones, and snare drums. The sub filled with aromas of spicy gumbo, boiled crawfish, and those impossibly light donuts called beignets.

  “I’m so hungry,” wailed Max. “Let’s get off and eat. There’s a dock over there.”

  “No,” said Lucky. “We’re going to do this my way. We’ll tie up somewhere quiet and walk back into the city for dinner. I’ll find you a hotel and tickets upriver for tomorrow. With luck, we’ll find a boat going all the way to Cahokia.”

  “You’re not coming with us?” Lola made a sad face.

  “I have classes to teach, remember? But I’ll be back to collect you. Just call me.”

  “What if the phones are still out?” asked Max.

  “I’ll find you somehow.”

  Max furrowed his brow dubiously.

  “You’ll be fine,” Lucky assured him. “This place is a lot safer than the jungle. Besides, you have Lord 6-Dog to look after you.”

  Max and Lola regarded their so-called protector. He was in a world of his own, intent on polishing the leg-bone of his ancestor on his pajama top.

  “You’ll be fine,” repeated Lucky, less convincingly this time. “Now let’s get that hatch shut and find somewhere safe to tie up.”

  “HALT!” bellowed a voice.

  Lucky clapped his hand to his forehead. “Too late! We’ve been spotted!”

  Max looked around for the coast guard but saw no other boats on the water.

  “STORM WARNING IN EFFECT. ALL TOUR BOATS INTO PORT. THIS IS AN ORDER.”

  “There’s a guy with a megaphone on the dock,” said Lucky.

  “Police?” asked Max.

  “It’s hard to see. He’s wearing a rain cape. He looks pretty official.”

  “Let’s just go,” Lola urged. “Let’s dive and get out of here!”

  Lucky assessed the situation. “No, it’s okay. We’ll play along. This could work for us. He thinks we’re a tour boat, so I’ll keep him talking while you three disembark and melt into the crowd.” He turned the sub toward the dock. “Just keep your cool and act like tourists.”

  “Easier said than done,” Max pointed out. “One of us is a howler monkey in pajamas.”

  Lola pulled out a blanket from a cubby. “Here,” she said, draping it over Lord 6-Dog’s head. “Wrap this around you and we’ll say you’re seasick. They’ll think you’re a little boy.”

  “What about his hairy feet?” said Max.

  “It’s getting dark,” said Lola. “No one will notice.”

  Lucky put his hands on her shoulders. “I wish I could come with you. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  “You said it yourself,” Lola pointed out. “It’s a lot safer here than in the jungle.”

  “New Orleans looks like a beautiful city,” agreed Lucky. “But it has its dark side. I’ve heard tales of ghosts and voodoo and haunted houses.”

  “Now you tell us,” joked Max.

  Lola laughed. “We’ve survived the Maya underworld. I think we can look after ourselves.”

  He nodded. “So when you get off the sub, promise me that you’ll go straight to a hotel. Then you’ll come back to the waterfront in the morning and look for a boat to St. Louis. They’re supposed to leave every day. Do you have enough money?”

  “Yes! Stop worrying. We’ll be fine.”

  Lucky, who was not a natural hugger, hugged each of them awkwardly. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

  Lucky disembarked first. “Good evening, Officer,” he said to the guy in the rain cape. Then he stood at the hatch to help the others out onto the wooden dock. “Watch your step,” he said to each of them as they emerged. “Sharky’s Sub Tours welcomes you back to New Orleans.”

  “We didn’t finish our tour,” grumbled Lola. “We want our money back.”

  “Sorry, lady, read the small print. No refunds.”

  “And my little brother got seasick.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we docked early.” Lucky winked at the officer. “Tourists. There’s no pleasing ’em.”

  “Very true,” the officer agreed. “How’s business? I never heard of Sharky’s Sub Tours before.”

  “We’re new in town.” Lucky looked as guilty as only a man driving a smuggler’s submarine in foreign waters on a mission from the Maya Death Lords could, but the officer didn’t seem to notice.

  “Next time, you should check the weather forecast first.”

  “I did but—” Lucky stopped himself arguing and nodded meekly. After casting one last worried glance at his former passengers, he got back in the sub and headed out across the water.

  Max, Lola, and the blanket-swathed Maya king crossed the broad waterfront sidewalk and ducked around the first street corner.

  “Did that cop follow us?” asked Max, flattening himself against the wall.

  Lola peered around the corner. “All clear! We
did it, Hoop! We’re in New Orleans!”

  Max exhaled with relief. “So let’s find a hotel.”

  “Can’t we explore a little first?”

  “No. We’re sticking to the plan. Besides, there’s a storm coming, remember?”

  “I smell no storm,” said Lord 6-Dog suspiciously.

  “Can you speak a bit higher?” Lola asked him. “You’re supposed to be a little boy.”

  “I smell no storm,” squeaked Lord 6-Dog.

  Lola looked at the sky. “Not a single cloud,” she agreed. “Maybe the weather changes quickly here.”

  “Whatever,” said Max. “Let’s get going. It looks like there’s loads of places down this way. I’m pretty sure this is the French Quarter. It’s full of hotels and restaurants. We should come back out for something to eat when we’ve found a place to stay.”

  They walked along, laughing and chatting and looking in store windows. But gradually their high spirits faded. One after another, the hotels they passed had NO VACANCY signs posted outside.

  “This is hopeless,” sighed Lola.

  The streets were getting quieter now.

  “This looks like the end of the French Quarter,” said Max. “What should we do?”

  “If we were in the jungle, we’d just sling our hammocks in some trees.” Lola looked around doubtfully. “Maybe we could sleep in a doorway.”

  Max pulled a face. “I want fluffy towels and cable TV.”

  “I’d settle for shelter from the storm,” said Lola.

  Lord 6-Dog sniffed the air. “Battle stations!” he yelped.

  “What? Why?” Max and Lola tuned to see what he was looking at, and a burst of raucous music made them jump out of their skin.

  “It’s started,” said Lola. “Look!”

  A band of skeletons was dancing down the road playing their instruments. They were led by a small skeleton with a baton.

  Lord 6-Dog brandished the leg-bone at them. “Be gone, evil spirits!”

  The skeletons waved back cheerily.

  “Are we in New Orleans or Xibalba?” whispered Lola.

  The small skeleton with the baton handed her a piece of paper.

  “What’s this?” she asked defiantly. “A ransom note for my parents?”

  The little skeleton stared at her in alarm and high-tailed it back to the group.

 

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