“Daisy?”
“Shhh. I’m trying to use psychometry to listen to your soul,” shesaid in a solemn voice.
“Why?”
“To see if that pencil has spread its angry energy field to you.” Her eyes were full of mirth when she opened them.
He chuckled, his pulse slowing back to normal. “Well, will I be spewing a war of words on the page?” Truth be told, he’d sort of gone to war against the jungle in his notes already.
She shrugged. “I can’t predict it now. Ask again later.”
“You sound like one of those fortune teller toys.”
“Oh, I loved playing with my Magic 8-Ball as a kid. Ask me another question.” She closed her eyes, her hand remained touching his arm.
“Will the Garcías find evidence of a Maya king or some big-name shaman at this site?”
She hummed for a couple of seconds. “Outlook good.”
“Will we find the answer to what role this place had in the history books before the jungle regains custody?”
More humming, then, “Signs point to yes.”
If true, that would certainly make Angélica happy. He thought about asking Daisy if the answer found would line up with Marianne’s theories about the site, but then remembered this was just a game and Daisy had no idea what was actually in Marianne’s notes.
“Ask me another question,” Daisy said, her eyes still closed, her hand on his arm yet.
“Let me think for a second.”
He looked over at where Angélica and her father were arguing about something on the fancy tablet, which was now in Juan’s hands. He pointed at something off to the right in the trees. Angélica shook her head, frowned at the tablet screen, and then back at the forest. Meanwhile, Fernel had his hat off, his copper-colored hair glinting in the sunlight as he swatted at something flying around his head. Angélica glanced toward their visitor right as Fernel swung again, more wildly, and tripped over something in the grass—probably a damned tree root hidden by the jungle litter. Fernel’s hat went flying as he helicoptered drunkenly for several seconds, which was just enough time for Angélica to race over and catch him by the arm before he hit the dirt. She steadied him, stuck his hat back on hishead, and then returned to her father.
“Okay, I have one,” Quint said, his gaze still on Angélica, who now had her hands planted on her hips as she stared in the direction her father was pointing once again. He guessed that there was something deeper in the trees Juan wanted to see, but Angélica had another location she’d rather check out first.
“Will we run into trouble here at Site 5?” he asked Daisy.
“Better not tell you now,” she said after a few hum-filled beats. Her voice sounded a bit croaky, like she had a cold.
“Oh, nice and cryptic, Daisy 8-Ball.”
Quint focused back on his rock companion. Her smile was gone, replaced by a vertically lined upper lip. She had her eyes squeezed tight, too. Her whole face appeared to be frozen in the midst of slight pain. She must really be getting into her fortune teller role now.
“Will anyone get hurt?” he asked Madame 8-Ball.
“Without a doubt,” she answered immediately without a single hum of thought.
“That doesn’t sound good.” He looked over at Angélica again and started to ask Daisy who, but then remembered the questions needed to be of the yes or no sort. “Will we—”
“There are too many whispers here,keyme,” Daisy interrupted.
He did a double-take. What had Daisy just called him? It had sounded likekey-me.
“Can you hear them?” she asked. Her head tipped jerkily one way and then the other, looking like a bird, especially with the way her short silver hair tufted up here and there around her head.
Quint paused, listening, playing along. He heard the murmurs in Spanish from Fernando and Raul, the macheteswish-swishcoming from Bronko and KuTu, and Fernel’s somewhat nasally voice as he talked about the data points used on his LIDAR map. Beyond the people sounds, Quint noticed the buzzes of many bugs and tweets of birds all around them. Plus his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
“I hear many things, Daisy 8-Ball, but none of them are whispers.”
“The ancestors speak to their guardian. They talk of death.” Daisy lifted her face to the sun, her eyes visibly roving behind her closed lids. She drew in a slow breath, her nostrils flaring. “Can yousmell that?”
