If he wanted more from me than that, he’d be disappointed.
“Can you tell me anything else about the site?”
I wasn’t surprised he refused to acknowledge my gratitude. “No,” I lied. “As I said, it’s in the desert, and I was in pretty bad shape by the time someone found me. I can’t tell you anything of use about the site.”
If Sebastian found out the temple was dedicated to transforming men into gods, he’d never stop asking questions so he could get credit for the temple’s discovery. Two could play his game, and I wasn’t going to give him the glory, not this time.
I deserved to be greedy every now and then, too.
“Where’s the site at? What’s the nearest city?”
I bet the University of Florida would try to race Nevada to the site and claim it if they could. It was a time-honored tradition of competition, but I was done helping my old school make grabs for more sites. “I don’t know. I was transferred to Carson City. I wasn’t told where I’d been found.”
“Damn it!”
I knew how he ticked. He didn’t care about me. He cared about his goals. I could live with that; I was no different. My life meant nothing to him. Only my talent held value—and my knowledge. “Sorry, Sebastian.”
“It’s not your fault.”
I was a far better liar than he was, but I meant it when I thanked him. His anger and blame made my choice so much simpler. When Nevada came calling, I’d be ready to negotiate, and I’d be the one emerging the clear victor.
Nevada’s representatives didn’t leave me waiting for long, but instead of the researchers I expected, a pair of elites came calling, and they brought two bodyguards with them. My talent was all but fried between the mercury poisoning and my flare, but it was returning slowly. Pulling mud off my clothes would be a challenge for a few more days.
The two men were safe from me.
While tempted to kick them out and make them stew, I opened the door. “Come in and make yourselves comfortable.”
If they wanted me to be more polite, they’d be waiting for a long time. I wasn’t going to give them an inch on negotiations, and that meant presenting a callous woman who had no time for their shit.
If I walked a hard line, they’d get straight to business without trying to charm me with their wealth and power.
The older of the two elites stepped inside my room, taking a few moments to look around. Gray touched his dark hair, but his blue eyes were bright and alert. “Sorry to bother you while you’re still recovering, but there’s the issue of your illegal entry into Nevada.”
Without bothering to introduce himself, he sat on the couch, dumped a briefcase on the coffee table, and retrieved a thick stack of paperwork from inside. “While the government is prepared to overlook your unconventional—”
“Let’s just skip to the part where you make offers for me without lowering yourself to a bunch of threats that’ll inevitably piss me off. I’m a Cassidy. Cassidys were born stubborn, and I have no problems with dragging my heels if you start up with any threats. The University of Florida taught us what to expect in these situations. As I’m officially an intern, I expect I’ll get little recourse if you decide to imprison me here. But, as I’m a New Yorker, it would only take one call to start making problems for Nevada. You know how New York gets when one of their citizens decides to go abroad. It took me months to secure a student visa to travel. I’m sure they’d be glad to revoke it and start causing trouble.”
The elites gaped at me, and one of their younger bodyguards cracked, smiling before controlling his expression.
I decided I liked him; he either had a sense of humor or enjoyed watching when his charges got steamrolled.
I viewed the first round as my victory, but since the elites weren’t talking, I took the initiative. “It’s obvious why Nevada wants to keep me here. Let’s be realistic about this, gentlemen. Nevada doesn’t have a good reputation for Mesoamerican studies. You don’t have the historians, researchers, archaeologists, or linguists with the right specializations. I’m an all-in-one package, and we both know it. I’m just being honest with you. I don’t appreciate being threatened, so if you want to make my day, do so. If you want to preen and act all high and mighty, come back tomorrow and try again.”
The elites exchanged looks while the bodyguards refused to look at anyone, myself included. The one grinned again, which likely counted as unprofessional for his field. But who was I to talk?
I wasn’t a shining example of professionalism, either.
“Very well. First, we’d like to extend an offer for you to pursue your doctorate after a year. Carson City Royal University requires all doctoral students finish a year before defending their dissertation. No doctorates are ever issued for non-students. As part of our initial offer, Nevada will pay your tuition and fees.”
Someone had either been paying attention or had done research on me. Good. “That’s a decent start. What’s Nevada’s plans for their new death temple?”
The negotiator’s eyebrow rose. “Is that the official name of the temple?”
“I call the shots as I see it, and that temple has one purpose: death.”
“Nevada is prepared to install you in a co-leadership role with someone of our choice. You would have equal authority over the site with a few exceptions. You would be exclusively in charge of site safety and general security. In addition to this, you would also be responsible for determining the type of staff required to safely work the site.”
I had no idea how to go about making the death temple safe for anyone, but instead of saying so, I hummed, flopped onto my armchair, and considered the offer. “What else?”
“Your starting salary would be a hundred thousand a year, and it would include full health insurance coverage for any treatments required as a result of excavations. Your medical expenses from the discovery of the site would also be covered in full.”
“Full coverage, on and off site,” I countered. “No deductibles.”
The elites sighed, but as one, they nodded their agreement. “Anything else you want?”
“Your names would be a good start. It’d be nice to know who I’m negotiating with. It won’t change the outcome, but I’d hate to have to give you names to tell you apart.”
Both bodyguards struggled to hide their amusement, which made me wonder who they really were; the last time I’d seen a professional bodyguard, nothing anyone had tried defeated his stoicism. Maybe Nevada bodyguards were more easygoing than their University of Florida counterparts.
“Abraham Shand,” the lead negotiator replied before waving at his companion. “This is Dr. Kersche from Carson City Royal University. He’ll be responsible for choosing your co-lead on the dig site and ensuring you have everything you need to excavate the temple. I’m a government official with full authorization to negotiate with you, Miss Cassidy.”
“I prefer to be addressed as Summer. In addition to full insurance coverage, I want danger pay established for everyone on the team, myself included. These sites are dangerous—and they were dangerous before the introduction of magic.”
“We can discuss danger pay, although that would be a part of your excavation budget rather than a part of the terms for your hire.”
“Additional budget earmarked for danger pay is a requirement for my hire, as is a plan to compensate any workers injured or killed on site. When I worked at Site C, three men died from mercury poisoning. It’s an ugly way to go.”
Because of their rank and contracts, I doubted their families had received a single penny from the University of Florida.
“I can agree to those terms assuming we use Nevada SAR guidelines for base compensation.”
“I’ll need to see Nevada SAR guidelines before I’m willing to sign any papers, but if it’s reasonable, I’ll give you my tentative agreement to those terms.” I doubted I’d get any better if I tried, but at least I’d have a better idea of what I was getting into. “As I expect you’ll be implemen
ting a travel ban to prevent me from hightailing it home, I’ll need a relocation package, assuming relocation is possible. It might not be. I don’t know anything about Nevada’s relationship with Florida.”
Abraham nodded. “If relocation isn’t possible, you’ll be given a stipend to replace your property. You’ll be assigned an assistant. She’ll be in charge of handling any purchases on your behalf. You’ll be provided with a vehicle, an apartment for a year, and your travel expenses to and from the dig site will be covered.”
I’d need to do a lot of research on what Nevada had to offer, but I’d buy myself some time by making a few requests that would take them time to determine if they could actually give me what I wanted. “I’m originally from New York. I’d like any potential travel bans lifted when it comes to visiting my home kingdom. If an escort is required, that is something we can discuss, but I’d like the option available to me. I’d also like a reasonable timeframe for how long the ban lasts. Someone in my field needs to do extensive traveling. Also, I refuse to be prosecuted if some damned temple decides to relocate me without my consent again.”
The two men exchanged looks and frowned.
Good. Neither knew how to deal with my requests. I allowed myself a small smile. “Take your time thinking about it. There should be a lot of paperwork involved with this agreement. I need time to read it. While I’m willing to offer tentative agreement to a potential arrangement, I’m not giving a firm yes until I’ve read all paperwork in its entirety. There’s also a matter of pursuing my doctorate. With all due respect, Dr. Kersche, Carson City Royal University isn’t a reputable university for Mesoamerican studies. I’d like a chance to review the university’s specialties and see how they fit with my future goals. I’m sure I can expand my education for something more reputable, but I’d like it to be related to the work I’ve been doing for the entirety of my adult life. In the meantime, I propose you gather a team and plan a field trip to the site before we formalize any agreement, that way Nevada can evaluate the risks and make an educated decision about excavating the temple. Some sites are better left buried, gentlemen, and this might be one of them.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Abraham Shand replied, rising from the couch. “Thank you for your time and candor, Miss Cassidy.”
So much for getting him to call me Summer. “A pleasure, Mr. Shand.”
He left the briefcase on the coffee table, which I translated to be an invitation to poke through it the instant he was out the door. I wished them well and locked the door behind them before reading through the documentation they’d brought.
It was well enough I’d taken a more aggressive stance; had they gotten their way, the only thing they would’ve offered me was a doctorate and tuition. Nowhere in the briefcase was any mention of a salary, a co-lead position for the dig team, a relocation package, or medical expense coverage.
I’d have to add a few extra items to my wish list to make it clear what I thought of their attempt to squeeze me for everything I was worth.
Either to keep me from becoming bored or hoping to convince me of their sincerity, Abraham Shand and Dr. Kersche had their goons acquire new clothes for me. The clothing made a great deal more sense when, the following morning, the pair returned and escorted me to the death temple. To keep the location a secret, the helicopter’s pilot avoided civilization. He landed near a newly erected camp, one large enough to support a staff of at least fifty people.
I liked they were taking the place seriously, but I also disliked the idea of so many people being near a site dedicated to the ritualistic murder of men attempting to become gods to prevent future sacrifices.
After Matt’s abandonment of Los Horcones, I wasn’t willing to bet there weren’t a bunch of angry ghosts lingering at the site, waiting for their chance to get their revenge on the living. Maybe they’d been the ones behind the crystal path leading to the top of the temple, allowing me to escape so I could bring extra victims to their domain.
I didn’t like the thought of that one bit, but it was too late to do anything about it. I’d gotten into the helicopter, and I’d flown to the site without complaint.
Chickening out upon arrival wasn’t done. No, if I chickened out, it would be at the end of my contract—assuming I signed a contract.
Prison was starting to look like an attractive alternative.
Hating myself for my cowardice, I lifted my chin, scrambled out of the helicopter, and leveled my worst glare at the mound hiding the temple. The top tier had been fully exposed, revealing the altar and the steps leading to the next level.
When I’d been at the temple, the top had not been covered in a shining layer of crystallized cinnabar, which gleamed in the sun. My talent thrummed, promising the crystal encased the entire temple. Unlike its powdered form, the crystalized cinnabar could, with caution, be handled and worked with.
It was the safest of mercury’s forms; unless the crystal had pockets of elemental mercury, it wouldn’t pose much of a danger as long as workers were careful, wore masks, and avoided crushing the stone to the more dangerous powder.
I drew in a deep breath, fighting the impulse to climb back into the helicopter and hide from the temple with a mind and will of its own. “Anyone who claims that isn’t magic is an idiot. The vermilion crystallized back to cinnabar?”
Dr. Kersche cleared his throat. “From our observations, it’s spreading at a rate of a quarter inch an hour, and it’s knocking off the debris covering it as it goes; we’ve done no excavations at the top, which is where you were found. When you were recovered, the entire temple was still buried except for a small crawlway. The team here is monitoring the crystal’s progression. There have been several shallow earthquakes in the area since this began. Our next step is to bring in a geological survey team to learn the source of the earthquakes.”
I could make a guess, and it involved the underground river beneath our feet. I considered the current camp, which was directly over it. I pointed at a safer location some hundred feet away. “I recommend you move the camp to there.”
Everyone stared at me as though I’d grown a second head.
“I’ll bite,” Dr. Kersche said. “Why?”
“Because it’d be a pity if the camp were to fall into the underground river running beneath it, the same river that is also running directly beneath the temple. I’ve already been dunked, and I promise you, that water’s cold. The camp is on the wrong side of the temple to get inside if someone were to fall in. If someone does fall in, they’re going on a one-way trip down.”
Spewing curses, Dr. Kersche barked orders. The camp stirred like a hornets’ nest poked with a stick. I almost clapped at how quickly the workers obeyed orders to relocate. I gave it an hour before everything was moved to a safer location.
“We didn’t think to check for unstable ground beneath the camp,” he admitted.
“You’re going to want to do scans for more ruins in the area.” I’d never seen an isolated temple before, but I was learning to ignore everything I thought I knew about the Nahua and Maya tribes, especially when the Ch’olti’ were involved. I shuddered at the thought of the cinnabar being able to go where it pleased when it pleased. “You’re going to want a strong earthweaver around to keep an eye on that cinnabar. It could revert back to powder, then everyone would be in trouble—or worse, it could become elemental mercury.”
“What you can’t see from here is that there’s writing in the cinnabar; we flew some drones nearby for pictures. From what we can tell, your bracelets are written in the same language. Would you please tell us what your bracelets say?”
I lifted my right hand to show Dr. Kersche. “Both are life calendars; one is in Nahuatl, the other is in Mayan. There are also Ch’olti’ influences on both sides.” Pointing to the top of the calendar, I continued, “This marks birth. The writing to the left represents the end of life before rebirth.” Flipping my wrist over, I pointed to the writing representing the zenith of one’s life. “This mark th
e prime of life. It also includes the development of family relationships.”
I wasn’t ready to tell them the full truth of the bracelets yet. Family relationships were close enough. If the bracelets were right, my chance for finding my match per Nahua and Maya customs had passed me by. In some things, history didn’t repeat itself. On the other hand, it was a good thing.
I liked where my heart was, safe and sound.
All my meeting with Landen had done was rattle my emotions in their cage. I’d return to my old self soon enough, secure from outside influences, incapable of anything other than accomplishing my goals.
I’d be fine alone, learning the secrets of a lost empire.
Chapter Eight
What could go wrong did go wrong, and no matter what anyone said, it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault I’d done the honorable thing, reading Sebastian’s discs so he could get his credit and escape Mexico for better waters. I did hope that worked out for him so I wouldn’t have to try to shove his cursed obsidian bracelets up his ass.
I refused to claim any credit for being teleported to or from Nevada’s death temple. It definitely wasn’t my fault the bracelets had a mind of their own. I hadn’t spoken a word of Nahuatl, Mayan, or Ch’olti’, but I’d been sucked into darkness and spit out anyway.
Bastard bracelets. There was a special place in hell for them, if I ever got the dratted things off.
Instead of heat and sand, I fell into snow. The cold shocked a gasp out of me, and I scrambled to my feet, dusting off and howling curses. A light dusting of snow fell through scattered evergreens from a steel-gray sky.
My venting drew the wrong sort of attention, and translucent figures wearing tribal garb converged on me, their spears held high.
Could ghostly spears kill me? I didn’t want to find out. Despite all my studies, I had no idea what signaled a peaceful surrender to ghosts who liked bending people over their altars and cutting their hearts out to prevent the end of the world.
The Captive King Page 10