“Then you have your answer.” She held up her hand with her pinkie raised. “You want me to pinkie swear.”
“I’d rather we seal the deal with a kiss.”
Easily done. She went on her toes and brushed her lips over his. “Good enough?”
He grinned. “For now. I might need more assurance later, though.” His grin faded. “Please be careful, boss lady.”
She patted his cheek. “I will.”
“If you don’t show up at the wall within an hour after I get there, I’m coming back for you, and I’m bringing Daisy.”
“Why Daisy?”
“She’ll be able to find you. And if she can’t …” He touched her locket. “Someone else will.”
“I’ll be there,” she said and meant it. He was right. It would be foolish to take risks now that they’d finally found something that might give her the answers she needed. “Tomorrow, we’ll return with more tools and help.”
“Come on, Big Blue Bunyan,” Pedro called out. “This guy is getting heavy.”
She patted Quint’s chest. “Go, Parker.”
He kissed her on the forehead. Wrapping one of Dr. Fernel’s arms around his shoulder while Pedro did the same with the other, he nodded in her direction. Then he and Pedro half-carried the poor guy down the freshly cut path.
Her father caned his way closer to her as she watched them fade into the trees. “I don’t understand why the bugs went for him but not the rest of us.”
“Me either, but tomorrow we should all probably cake Teodoro’s repellent on doubly thick.”
“Maybe even triple.” He turned toward the ruin. “Let’s get these rubbings done and head back. I don’t know if I want to be here when it gets dark.” He pointed his cane at the entrance. “Something tells me there are going to be bats flying out of there come dusk.”
She scanned the surrounding jungle, nodding. “That would certainly explain all of these papaya trees.”
Bats were wonderful fruit tree workers, acting as pollinators first and seed dispersers later via their guano. She had a feeling that if she poked her nose inside that darkened doorway, she’d be surrounded by a strong ammonia smell, typical of most bat caves.
She slipped off her backpack, pulling out the rice paper notepad and a couple of pieces of charcoal for rubbing. “Okay, Dad, you rest and I’ll get busy.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, child,” he teased, stepping carefully through the papayas scattered over the ground, poking at several with his cane.
She walked past him, heading for the base of the single-story structure. The stones that made up the steps were worn and cracked with weathering, but still stable.
At the top, she paused to sniff at the mouth of the ruin, but stayed outside per her promise to Quint. Underneath theeau de parfumof the surrounding jungle with its rotting fruit and decaying leaves, she could smell the earthy, stale air that hovered in the darkness. The scent was similar to most other Maya temples and structures she’d been going in and out of over the years.
The Maya people had been amazing engineers, architects, and builders. Thousands of years had passed, yet so many of their structures still stood in spite of time’s ravaging.While many archaeologists and historians were head over heels for the Egyptians and their massive structures, that civilization’s stone achievements hadn’t taken centuries’ worth of beatings from humidity, rain, and vegetation that seemed determined to crack and dismantle anything manmade. Angélica had always sided with the Maya as the more impressive builders of the two empires.
She set her pack down and carefully nudged aside several thorny vines, placing her palm flat against the square column on the left. The lichen-covered block was scratchy under her hand, warm to the touch.
Angélica closed her eyes, thinking of KuTu’s words, trying to feel if the stone was singing. Her breathing slowed as she waited for a vibration of some sort and listened for an earthy hum.
“What are you doing,gatita?” her father called out. From the sounds of it, he was over near the temple.
“Just getting a feel for this place,” she said. “Be careful around the rubble.”
Her father’s grumbling about her being as bossy as her mother made her smile. She wondered if her mom was listening in today. If so, she was probably laughing.
Opening her eyes, Angélica pushed up onto her tiptoes and slid her hand higher up the stone column. Fern fronds dangled from where the plant had rooted on the ledge above the entrance, hiding the long block bracing the top of the entrance from view. Thankfully, most Maya people had been on the shorter side and their buildings were designed with their height in mind, so she was able to reach quite far up. There were definitely more carvings in the stone up there.
“Get your hand out from under there, child,” her father said, much closer now. “There could be snakes or scorpions hiding under that fern.”
Chuckling, she pulled her hand away, settling back on her heels. “Do you recognize any of the imagery in these carvings?” She looked down at where he stood on the bottom step, leaning on his cane, sweat dripping down his cheek.
