The Secret of the Codex

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The Secret of the Codex Page 38

by Melissa Frey


  The bullet hit. Kayla stopped breathing.

  CHAPTER 47

  End

  She was still standing. She didn’t know how, or why, but she was. Shani was still in front of her, but something had changed. Or, more accurately, everything had changed. The gun was still pointed at her, but it and Shani’s arm were on fire. A rush of Justin’s power came from behind her, and the fire snaked its way up Shani’s arm, lighting her shirt on fire. She couldn’t hold her arm steady anymore. She fell to the ground, writhing. The fire was spreading.

  Grady grinned diabolically. “Here, let me help you with that.” He collected his power, then doused Shani in a torrential flood of water. The fire was out, but now Shani was struggling to breathe. She dropped to her hands and knees, coughing erratically. She was neutralized, for now.

  Kayla looked down at her chest, where she was sure the bullet hit. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She started patting and pulling at her shirt, at the place where she was sure she saw the bullet make contact.

  Nothing.

  What? How could that be? She pulled her shirt away from her, looking again for a bullet hole. But the shirt was intact. How did the bullet miss her? She looked at the ground, and there at her feet, only a few feet away from where Shani lay on hands and knees gasping, was the smashed remains of a bullet. It had definitely hit something.

  Feeling as though the world was in slow motion, Kayla bent down. She picked the bullet up between her thumb and index finger and held it up in the dim light, struggling to see it better, trying to make sense of what had happened. She examined the bullet, but found nothing that would tell her how it hadn’t hit her chest.

  Kayla, look. Grady was still pouring water over Shani, but once Kayla’s eyes met his, he nodded behind her. Kayla stood up and turned around in one motion. Mandy was sitting on the ground, breathing hard, and sweat had lined her forehead and soaked through the top of her shirt. This had been the plan, but Kayla was still stunned that it had actually worked.

  Mandy, are you alright?

  Mandy nodded at her, trying to catch her breath. I’m fine.

  That was amazing.

  Mandy offered a weak smile. I wasn’t sure it would work.

  But it did. Thank you.

  Mandy simply nodded back, then stared at the ground, chest still heaving.

  Kayla couldn’t think of anything else to say, her mind still trying to make sense of it all. She dropped the bullet next to her would-be murderer. Shani was still on the ground, struggling to breathe. At this point, Kayla couldn’t really bring herself to care.

  She looked over toward Na-um and his army, but the rest of the room was empty. Na-um and what was left of his army had retreated. The Four had won the battle.

  Now they just had to deal with the cleanup.

  No one could see it, but Shani was crying. It was making it even harder to breathe, but she couldn’t stop herself. She had failed the Elders, had failed her people. But, more importantly, she had failed Na-um, her only brother. Her only family. When the Clan had abandoned her, threatened her into servitude, Na-um had protected her. He’d put himself and his reputation on the line for her, and she had betrayed him. She’d owed him better than that.

  She was glad he’d gotten away. If he’d still been here when the four Americans were done with her, they’d most certainly have turned on him and killed him. And, despite all the betrayals and lies, she didn’t want to see him hurt. She’d thought she could live with it, thought she could reason it away, but she couldn’t. He was her brother, and she’d turned on him. She’d never forgive herself for that.

  She needed to get up, get away from this onslaught of water; she hated being on the receiving end of the Power. But to run away, she needed to be able to breathe. And that was proving difficult at the moment.

  But she did have one thing. One thing no one else had. As one of the Clan’s few female fighters, she was endowed with the ability to defend herself in an attack. She could push anything away from her—human or otherwise, even thoughts—so she could get away. A defensive mechanism, but useful all the same. Especially now.

  She was starting to black out; she could feel it coming on. Even with the small pockets of air she was finding in the flowing water, no one can last indefinitely in a rushing flood. Despite all her powers, she still had to be able to breathe. She had to get out of here before she passed out.

  Gathering her power to her, she rose up on her knees and pushed her hands outward. The water sprayed away from her hands, leaving her a small area of breathing space. She took a few deep breaths, just enough to run, then got to her feet in one fluid motion. She sped away from the room, heading down the tunnel.

  As she emerged from the rocks under the night sky, she realized that she had nowhere to go. Na-um would certainly tell the Elders about her failure, and after tonight, Na-um wouldn’t want her anywhere near him. And the man she loved, the one she’d left the Clan for—the one who would be waiting for her back at Lamanai, her sweet Alex—would be in danger if she went back to him. The Clan would most certainly come after them if they were together. He needed to think she was dead.

  No one was her ally, not anymore. She was alone.

  She ran, tears streaming down her face, to lose herself in the forest. The forest that would now be her home.

  Grady wasn’t sure how Shani got away, but he wasn’t really worried about it. He cut off the stream of water, then sat down on the ground to rest. Keeping that much water flowing for that length of time certainly took a lot out of him.

  Kayla walked over to him and joined him on the ground, resting her head against his shoulder. He knew she was just as exhausted as he was.

  Justin was tending to Mandy, who was still recovering from her power burst. Grady was grateful for her willingness to push herself to the edge just to save the woman he loved. He owed her his life.

  Then he felt Kayla sit up beside him and yell to the nearly empty room, “Holun! You can come out now!”

  The young boy scurried out from behind the boulders and started running toward them. Kayla and Grady both stood to meet him.

  Holun’s grin nearly reached his ears. “You won.”

  Kayla nodded, chuckling. “Yes, Holun, I suppose we did.”

  Holun cocked his head to the side then addressed Kayla in K’iche. “Well, I hope it helped.”

  Kayla stopped. “What helped?”

  Holun just stared. “The necklace.”

  Kayla’s eyes widened as she involuntarily glanced down at her shirt.

  Holun smiled at her, shrugging. “I had just gotten my visions when I saw that you might need it, so I sent it to you.”

  Kayla reached for the necklace and pulled it over her head, moving slowly, deliberately. She extended it toward Holun, pleased to feel Grady’s arm drape over her shoulders as she did.

  Holun took the offered charm. “Thank you.” He held it up in the light and examined it for a minute. “Why don’t you keep it.” He tried to give the charm back to Kayla. “I don’t need it.”

  Kayla blinked, refusing to take it. “Holun, this is yours. Shouldn’t you keep it?”

  Holun shook his head, dangling the charm even closer to her. “This is the emblem of the Clan. The Clan is not my family anymore; you are.”

  Kayla smiled with tears in her eyes, taking the necklace and dropping it around her neck once again. Somehow it now felt like it belonged there. “Thank you, Holun. We could not have done this without you.”

  Holun’s grin was back. “I know.”

  Grady, hearing Kayla’s translation in his head, laughed beside her.

  Holun glanced over at Mandy and Justin sitting just a few feet away, then at Grady in front of him, then directly at Kayla. “Thank you all for letting me help, for helping me fulfill my Destiny. I will not forget it.”

  Then he switched to English. “Take care of Power!”

  And with that, he was gone.

  Grady stood still for a moment, t
rying to figure out where Holun had gone. He heard Kayla beside him concede ever knowing. He smiled, pulling her toward him for a soft kiss. That was all they had energy for tonight.

  After a few lingering seconds, he pulled away slightly to find Mandy and Justin. “Are you guys ready? I think I can get us back in the dark. I have no intention of staying here tonight.”

  Mandy nodded vigorously. She reached for Justin’s hand, pulling him to his feet and rushing over to Kayla and Grady. “Let’s get out of here, please.”

  The Four grabbed their all-but-forgotten backpacks—and the now-complete Codex—and headed for the entrance of the room. Just before they left, Mandy turned and pushed a last burst of air through the room. The torches all flickered out simultaneously, like someone had turned off a light switch. The four of them turned to walk up the tunnel.

  The night sky was comforting, a thin, starry blanket on a summer night. A light breeze had cooled the air; the humidity had dissipated with the sunlight.

  The hike to the SUV was long and tiring, but Grady was grateful to be headed home, or at least back to the dig. A clean shower, a comfortable bed . . . he had to remind himself to stay awake to drive.

  They made it back to Lamanai before sunrise.

  Epilogue

  Shani

  She ran for days, ran until she got bored with it, ran north until she hit the ocean. Her lungs fully accommodated her exertion, her breathing as even as if she were merely sleeping.

  She ended up on a Northern Canadian beach, a chilly, wind-blown landscape that chilled her to the bone despite the unrealistic prospect of summer warmth.

  Shani shivered, finding a seat on a fallen log and wrapping her arms around her torso. Her tears had dried a few days ago, but an overwhelming sadness still threatened to take her over.

  She’d lost so much.

  She reached up to wipe a stray strand of hair from her face and tried to think of something else, anything else. But life was cruel sometimes; no matter how hard she tried to think of something other than what she’d lost, her mind would conjure up the image of Alex’s face. It tore at her heart every time.

  But as she wallowed in self-pity and despair, her heart sinking into the lowest depths it had ever known, things gradually started to become very clear. There was only one way to regain everything she’d lost—including the man she loved, the one she’d given up everything for so many years ago.

  She’d spent a lifetime studying the Clan’s histories; she knew the Elders possessed more power than anyone realized. A power that would overwhelm and make obsolete any other power, perhaps even the power of the Codex.

  She knew now what she had to do, knew what would help her get back to her life, to her purpose, to her Alex.

  A wide grin spread across her face as she stood and started running again, in the direction she’d come, this time toward something rather than away.

  She resolved then, as the miles passing by at lightning speed turned her into a dark and muted blur, that she would succeed, she would prevail. She had to, after all. She had no choice.

  Her life depended on it.

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  www.melissafrey.com

  Acknowledgments

  First of all, I want to say thank you to my wonderfully supportive husband, Andrew, who put up with hours of me holed up in another room, incessant fangirling about the things that just happened in my book (mostly without any context) as I was writing it, and my frequent breakdowns (with lots of tears) when I announced my book launch date and suddenly “What on earth did I do?” was my constant mantra. You ground me, and without you this book would never have been published. (Especially since you offered your editing and formatting services for free . . .) I wrote Grady before I ever knew you, but I think somehow I sensed that kind of love was possible for me, and I found it in you. You will forever be my Grady.

  To everyone who helped me get the word out about my book, THANK YOU. You all are AMAZING. Beta readers, reviewers, launch team members, friends—you are all rock stars. Thank you, a million times over.

  To the Instagram writing community, I seriously cannot say enough about how much I love you all. Everyone has been extremely supportive, welcoming, and positive, and so much more gracious than I deserve. I feel like I have made friends for life in such a short time—you all are astoundingly incredible. Thank you for all the many likes, comments, and shares, and for letting me fangirl about my book when you’d never even read it! You are THE BEST.

  To my dad, who read the first draft of this novel chapter by chapter, as I wrote it. I’m still not sure how you did it—my writing was terrible back then! But you stuck with it, gave me input and advice, and somehow managed not to hate it. That means more than you know.

  To my sister, Amanda, the inspiration behind the character of Mandy. If I ever wanted to know how Mandy would react to a situation, I pictured how you would react and wrote that. You helped me tap into her kindness, helped me understand her. Thanks for being you.

  To the many authors who came before me, thank you for doing what you do. Because of your bravery, I read your books and believed that I could be an author too. To the ones that unknowingly helped me in writing this book, specifically Dan Brown, Frank Peretti, Stephenie Meyer, and Stephen King, this book exists because of your influence. You all are my heroes.

  To all my fellow indie authors, we’re all in this together. Thank you for doing what you do and for supporting other indie authors. Keep writing, marketing, and publishing like the bosses you are.

  To my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, You gave me this story, and I had so much fun discovering it. Our relationship grew, developed, and changed so much over these past ten years, and in that decade You were the only constant. Thank You for saving me, so many more times than I can count.

  And finally, to my readers, words cannot describe how much I appreciate you all. This book is in your hands because you chose to support an indie author who had a dream of getting her words out into the world. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.

  Want more?

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Book 2 of The Codex Series, The Prophecy of the Codex, coming Spring 2020!

  For the latest news on the release, writing advice, and random life updates, sign up at melissafrey.com to stay up to date!

  #thesecretofthecodex

  Prologue

  Glowing

  Harrington McGready Central American Exhibit Hall, Central Florida Museum of Natural History, Gainesville, Florida

  If there’d been anyone else around, the incessant click-clacking of the security guard’s nightstick against the marble walls would have been irritating. But instead, the museum’s sole defender dragged his nightstick at knee level, not caring about the sound. Sometimes that was the only way to stay sane on the night shift: manufacture a distraction to make your mind believe someone else was there. Lonely job.

  He really didn’t mind it, most nights. He liked the solitude, the lack of micromanaging, and the pay. Plus, he got to carry a gun. Oh, he wasn’t stupid about it. He knew how to handle it—in a word, carefully—but he liked how it made him feel: powerful. Strong.

  Not that he’d admit that to anyone. Least of all his infuriating ex-girlfriend. He wondered what she was doing right now. Probably asleep next to her new fiancé . . .

  He smacked the nightstick into his left palm, a little harder than he intended. “Ow!”

  The nightstick tumbled to the marble floor, sending a clatter reverberating throughout the entire marble-clad museum. He quickly stepped on it to make it stop bouncing and froze.

  Because he’d heard something.

  With the echoes dissipating, he leaned down slowly, so slowly, and gently lifted the nightstick off th
e ground. He tilted his head, still bent over. What was that?

  He carefully straightened, taking his time to make sure he wouldn’t make any extra noise. He gazed across the darkened Incan exhibit, looking for something, anything that could’ve made the sound he’d heard. Or thought he’d heard.

  He shook his head, blinking. Sometimes the mind plays tricks on you at—he checked his phone—three in the morning. Probably just a fluorescent light on somewhere.

  His shoulders heaved. Five more hours until the day shift gets here. They’re all probably home, still asleep, he thought. Must be nice.

  There it was again.

  He froze, every muscle in his body tensing. He turned to the left, toward the room around the corner that housed the rest of the Central American exhibits. Did something move in the Mayan wing? He supposed he should go find out.

  He tiptoed around the Incan pyramid replica, the collection of ancient burial masks, and the ceremonial bridal dress before finally spying the doorway to the Mayan collection. Truth be told, this was his favorite room in the whole museum. The curator here had received a generous donation of Mayan artifacts just this past summer—they’d even renamed this section of the museum after the benefactor, though he didn’t know who Harrington McGready was—and now it was all on display. Beautiful gems, smooth stones, colorful pottery—it was all here, in living color, and was honestly breathtaking.

 

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