“The haunted kind,” Juan said in a spooky voice.
“None of that haunted crap again, Dad.”
“They come with bigger bugs and scarier snakes,” her father continued in his normal tone. “Like one of the most worrisome types of pit vipers, the fer-de-lance, which is known around these parts as mean oldbarba amarilla.”
“Yellow beard?” Quint translated. Apparently, his Spanish was improving along with his knowledge about the Maya civilization.
Juan nodded. “Their fangs can shoot venom up to six feet and break through even the toughest boots. Plus they often leap up when they attack, catching passersby above their protective snake gaiters.”
“Jesus, and I thought the rattlesnakes at the last dig were terrors.”
“And don’t forget about the curses left behind at these old sites to keep intruders away,” Juan added.
She cast a glare over the map at her father. “Don’t start up with the curses, either.” To Quint, she explained, “When I say ‘sacred,’ I mean a place limited to only the elite Maya, such as kings and shamans. Maybe nobles, maybe not.”
“Why is it so sacred?” he asked.
“You remember how there are thirteen levels to heaven and nine levels toXibalba?”
“The Maya Underworld.” Quint nodded. “Yeah, and the Lord of Death rules at the very bottom.”
Juan smirked. “Good ol’ Yum Cimil, the Flatulent One.”
“According to Mom’s notes,” she continued, “the Pre-Classic Maya believed this site was an entry point at the terrestrial level between the two.”
“It seems like the time-range for the term ‘Pre-Classic’ is shifting according to what I’ve been reading. You mean prior to 200 CE?” At her nod, Quint asked, “An entry point for whom, though?”
“More likewhat?” Juan said, back to sounding spooky.
“For the Maya gods,” she told Quint. “Mom wrote that it was believed they were able to come and go from our plane with ease through this particular site, so the kings and shamans would come here to make sacrifices.”
“As in to sacrifice other humans? Or just drip some of their own blood on a cloth to be burned during a ceremony?”
“Possibly both, but we won’t know for sure until we look around a little. Maybe dig some.” That was why Angélica needed to check out this site before Dr. Fernel or anyone else. If her mother was right, this could be a very unique site.
“And maybe not even then,” Juan said. “If the site has been damaged by looters or chewed up by the jungle, we may not be able to actually confirm more than the fact that it was indeed trespassed by the Maya at some point, let alone prove what Marianne theorized in her notes.”
“Which is why we’re checking it out,” Angélica added, comparing the ridge rising out of the jungle on her left with what she believed was the same ridge noted on the map.
“I thought we’re here mainly because the Mexican government wants you to find new and exciting locations for tourism,” Quint said.
“That, too.” But that wasn’t as pressing as being the first on site, so that any potential major findings were attributed to her mom rather than some gung-ho geoarchaeologist. “With Guatemala upping the game and opening its borders to more archaeo-tourism, Mexico is losing out to sites just south of us over the border.”
“Like Tikal?” Quint asked.
She nodded. “And El Mirador. Plus other sites in the Guatemalan highlands now visible thanks to LIDAR.”
“The Guatemalan government upped their mapping game,” Juan explained for Quint’s sake. “There are hundreds of small city-state sites that are sexier than the more established sites here in Mexico, partly because they haven’t been explored physically yet, but also because of how the findings at these sites might change the historical narrative on the Maya civilization.”
“And its predecessors.” Angélica frowned up at the thick tree canopy overhead. Maybe if she climbed partway up one of the trees she could get a bird’s-eye view of their location. If only spider monkeys could talk.
Her father took the map from her again. “It’s like a treasure hunt for anyone with access to LIDAR data and money to pay for guides and transportation.” He bit his lower lip as he stared at the map. “This is not detailed enough. You should have brought along the tablet, like I suggested.”
She probably should have, even if the LIDAR data on it was a few years older. It might not have been as exact as the new data offered, but it would have been better than using the old-fashioned, laminated paper map method. Although experience had taught her that technology didn’t always fare so well in a rainforest.
Rather than admit her dad was right, she took off her hat to check it inside and out for ticks. “I’m worried the looters probably beat everyone else to this site,” she said. “Up until the 1970s, when countries started banning the sale of looted goods, grave robbing and treasure hunting was a free-for-all.”
Juan huffed. “Even if Marianne’s notes say otherwise, I suspect the chances of us finding anything other than rubble under the jungle are slim.”
