“Speaking of hot booty, you look almost as steamy as I feel.” The poor guy’s shirt was half-drenched with sweat, same as hers.
“Yeah, but it’s just a wet and sticky heat. If I close my eyes, I can pretend I’m locked in a sauna, wearing a snowmobile suit. It’s paradisiacal.”
She groaned. “Stop with long, multi-syllabic words, Mr. Big-time Photojournalist. It’s too damned hot for that shit and Dad’s not around to give you any more points in his stupid game.”
“You’re just mad because I’m winning.”
“You’re not winning, Parker, and I’m too sweaty to kick your ass right now.”
The afternoon heat had everyone wilting, even Dr. Fernel, who’d told her that he’d bought special “breathable” clothing on the trip to help mitigate the jungle heat. She had debated on breaking the news to him that the salesperson had been full of shit, but bit her tongue. After spending much of her life in the Mexican jungle, she had yet to find a fabric that made the heat and humidity more tolerable. Some days, melting slowly while periodically spewing swear words was the only option.
“So, why did you stop reading aloud?” she asked.
Quint tapped his pencil on his notes. “I got stuck here and calling out to you seemed like too much work.”
“Stuck on what?”
“How to spell the ‘mac-wa’ whatever weapon.”
“It’smacuahuitl.”
He stared at her, his brow pinching. “Nope, I didn’t get it that time either.”
“MAK-wa-hweet.” She pronounced the Mayan word slowly. “There is no ‘w’ after the ‘c’ when you spell it out.”
He grabbed his canteen from his backpack, unscrewing the cap. “Sure sounds to me like one snuck in there.”
“The ‘kw’ sound is actually spelled with a ‘c’ and ‘u’ pairing, and the ‘hu’ in the word is what makes the ‘w’ sound.” She swiped away the sweat rolling down her cheek with the back of her leather glove. “While some prefer to pronounce the ending ‘l’ in words like thisone, the ‘tl’ counts as single consonant.”
He glowered at her. “Christ, woman. Is that supposed to help? I can’t think that hard when I’m dripping this much.”
“I’m trying to teach you a little language.Macuahuitlmeans ‘hand-wood’ in Nahuatl.”
He took a drink of water, then offered his canteen to her. “How about you just spell the word for me and save the teaching for a beach sunset session back in Cancun?”
“Deal.” She spelled out the word for him and then took a drink of the warm water, handing back his canteen. A cold beer would’ve been downright heaven.
“What is this oddly spelled weapon, anyway?” he asked after stowing the canteen in his pack.
“It’s a long, broad wooden sword-like weapon with razor-sharp obsidian blades embedded along both sides.”
“How long and broad?”
“Dad can give you a better idea. He enjoys reading up on ancient Mesoamerican weapons.”
She glanced over at where her father sat on a fallen log under a ceiba tree. He was still checking out Dr. Fernel’s tablet. Next to him, the geoarchaeologist sat with his head drooping, his shoulders bending inward as if the heat had liquefied his core, causing him to slowly sink in on himself. His posture reminded her of the structures they’d found inside and outside of the wall.
She had to give it to Dr. Fernel, though. He was determined to make the most of his LIDAR software, even if the weather was hard on him. While Angélica, her father, and the rest of the crew had been excited about uncovering the cache of weapons, focusing their collective energy on clearing the area around it and examining the find, Dr. Fernel had insisted that he get busy on his own geoarchaeological work immediately. He’d pulled out surveying equipment from the pack that KuTu had kindly carried to the site for him. Apparently, a cache of weapons was not high on Dr. Fernel’s list of important discoveries.
At Angélica’s suggestion, he had taken Bronko with him to clear a pathway and watch for snakes while Fernel set measured data points with his survey equipment. According to the geoarchaeologist, he needed to set at least threedata points, which he’d use to pin his map on the surface of the earth in his software. After the data points were set, he would be able to look through his tablet and have the LIDAR map show in real-time, overlapping the existing actual topography.
Her father had practically drooled upon hearing about this mapping possibility, and grinned like a kid in a candy store for most of the afternoon. Then again, he’d been working with Daisy for part of that time, so his elation could be in part due to her sunshiny charm.
Angélica could understand why her dad was so fascinated with the LIDAR images and software. This technology offered incredibly enlightening views of what was hiding under the jungle—views her dad hadn’t been able to experience this early on at a dig for most of his career. The days of looking at a site and trying to determine if there might be anything hidden under mounds of vegetation and debris were mostly in the past.
“Just give me an idea of what you think this ancient weapon looked like,” Quint said, still focused on his notes. “It’s too hot for me to walk all of the way over to your dad’s shade tree.”
She rested her elbows on her knees. “Well, I’ve seen some recreations of themacuahuitlthat were three to four feet long and about three inches wide. Dad theorizes they were probably personalized on the broad sides with carvings of past battles or something showing the number of kills. Maybe even the warrior’s name.” She held out her hand. “Let me see your pencil.”
