Nothing.
Sera sloshes out of the kitchen, but when she rounds the corner she lets out a short scream. There, frozen on the stairs, is a rail-thin man wearing her uncle’s raincoat. Long, unkempt hair and shaggy beard. Bugged eyes. The man looks half-dead already.
Sera’s heart is beating inside her throat as she says, “Who are you?”
Instead of answering, the man leaps down the rest of the stairs and splashes his way across the living room.
“Stop!” Sera shouts, but he’s already out the door.
She bounds up the waterlogged stairs, her whole body now wired with fear. What if something happened to her uncle? She pushes open her own bedroom door first. A few items are scattered around the floor. But otherwise it’s the way she left it. She continues to her uncle’s bedroom door and reaches for the doorknob, preparing herself for what she might find.
She slowly pushes open the door and looks around.
There’s an unfamiliar sleeping bag in the middle of the room. Trash piled in the far corner. But nothing else out of the ordinary. The man she’d just seen had most likely been living there. But for how long? And where was her uncle?
That’s when it hits Sera.
She has to go and see about the barn.
The rushing water is up to Sera’s waist as she steps up to the front door of the barn. She has to keep a wide stance and lean against the current to keep from getting swept away. Before she pulls open the heavy door she flashes back to all the Remnants she’s had over the years, many of which have involved this very barn. She’s always known it’s important. But she’s afraid to find out why.
Sera forces herself to pull open the door, and as soon as it’s halfway open she peeks her head inside and sees a body floating faceup in the water.
She immediately falls to her knees, sobbing.
Her uncle Diego.
The only family she’s ever known.
His face strangely contorted, eyes wide open.
She covers her own face, and then slaps down at the water and stands back up. Behind her uncle she spots four more bodies. All floating facedown.
She moves toward them, hiccupping and gasping for breath, tears streaming down her face. Her right hand shakes as she reaches out for the dead man’s cold arm, turns over his body. It’s a face she’s never seen before. But at the same time, it’s oddly familiar. She turns over a dead woman next to him, which evokes the same strange feeling. She can’t pinpoint the familiarity. But it’s incredibly powerful.
The third and fourth bodies make her fall to her knees again, slapping at the water and shouting, “No! Please!”
Dak’s parents.
She buries her face in her hands and cries so hard that strange animal sounds are escaping from her throat and she can hardly breathe.
And then a horrific thought occurs to her and she looks up at the first two bodies again. She stares at their faces. Then she looks at Dak’s parents again and back at her uncle. The two unknown faces are oddly familiar. Oddly like her own face.
“No,” she whispers, moving back toward the first man again, studying his eyes and mouth. “No.”
She reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, then pulls out his ID and reads the name:
Daniel Froste.
Her father.
She stares down at the man without crying or breathing, and then she looks at the woman. Her mother. Then she angles her own face up at the ceiling and screams so piercingly loud her ears continue ringing long after she closes her mouth.
The parents she’s never known have come back for her.
And now they’re dead.
Sera rips at her own hair and forces her head underwater, right cheek pressed up against the muddy ground. She stays like this until her lungs burn and her thoughts grow thin and disappear, and she can no longer stand the pain in her chest.
Still she refuses to let herself up, and then the memory slips away and she is lost.
SERA OPENED her eyes, shaking uncontrollably.
Her body no longer felt real now that she’d broken through her repressed memory of the Cataclysm. She felt fake. Made up. Though she was clearly sitting on the clay dirt, behind a massive building, it felt like she was floating floating floating. Up into the sky. Into nothingness.
Everyone was going to die.
Including the parents she’d always dreamed about. They would die trying to fight their way back to her. She’d find them in her uncle’s barn.
Her Remnants would forever take on an entirely different meaning.
Sera turned and saw Dak and Riq looking around, taking in their new environment — which wasn’t new so much as updated. They’d landed in the exact same place they’d landed the last time they warped. Mayan country. Izamal. In a large patch of tall, thick grass. Except where the fallen observatory rubble once lay, a beautiful new observatory, twice the size of its predecessor, now stood. Itchik had done exactly what he had promised. And the temple, where Sera had just watched Pacal paint a ceiba tree into the codex, had been transformed into a massive church.
Judging by the sun, it was late afternoon. The people walking the raised white road in the distance were a combination of traditional Mayas and white men dressed in pious robes. Sera knew right away they were the Franciscan monks she’d read about, the ones who settled in Mayan villages and tried to convert the indigenous people to their own religious beliefs.
“I’m not saying anything this time,” Dak suddenly announced.
Sera found Dak staring at her. Poor Dak. Her best friend had no idea what she’d found in her uncle Diego’s barn.
“Nope,” Dak said, shaking his head. “I refuse to even bring up the fact that tears are literally streaming down your face. Uh-uh. My lips are sealed.”
Sera couldn’t bring herself to tell him about his parents. It was too awful. And it was way off in the future. At the same time, Dak was so worried about his parents being lost in time. Wouldn’t he want to know that they’d made their way back?
Sera stared at Dak, trying to decide if it was better to know the unbearable truth or live as long as possible in happy ignorance.
“Know why I’m keeping quiet?” Dak said. “Because it’s none of my business. Who am I to point out that you’re shaking like a hairless dog in the snow?”
“It’s just the warp again,” Sera managed to say.
Dak held up his hands, saying, “Eh, eh, eh. No need to even discuss it, Sera. I’m steering clear of your hysterics from now on.” He turned to Riq, said, “I see Lover Boy over here has the same strategy.”
Riq didn’t even look up.
“Wow,” Dak said, turning back to Sera. “What’s wrong with you people? Last time I checked, I was the one who nearly got decapitated by a falling wall.”
Sera tried to think up something lighthearted to say back, to at least pretend things were normal, but her mind drew a blank. Every time she looked at Dak she remembered turning over the bodies of his dead parents. And that made her remember the faces of her own dead parents, too. And her uncle Diego.
Dak pulled the SQuare out of Riq’s satchel, shaking his head. He turned on the power. “Nobody has a sense of humor anymore,” he said, typing something on the keyboard. “What we’re doing isn’t easy. I understand that. But we have to keep our composure, right? I mean, we have a fairly important job to do.” He looked up at Sera. “We have to save the world.”
Sera wiped her tearstained face on the arm of her huipil and said, “I’m pretty sure we’re all aware of that, Dak. Just cut us some slack.”
Dak motioned toward Riq with his thumb and said, “I saw what happened to the Riq-ster over here. His girlfriend or whatever tried to give him a parting gift — a locket or something — but he dropped it. Isn’t that right, Riq?”
Sera watched Riq turn to Dak, scowling.
Dak was oblivious
, of course. “See, that’s why I tell all my bros back home to steer clear of the lovey-dovey stuff. It’s asking for trouble, dude. You want my advice? If you absolutely have to interact with the opposite sex, make sure it’s with a girl you can treat like one of the guys. Like Sera.” He kicked at her with one of his feet.
“Wow,” Sera said. “That’s so . . . sweet of you.” Sera might’ve slugged Dak in the ribs if she hadn’t just remembered finding his dead and bloated parents during the Cataclysm.
Riq stood up suddenly. Without saying a word he walked away.
“Hey!” Dak called after him. “You can’t leave! It’s going to be dark soon! And we’re supposed to stick together!”
Riq didn’t even turn around.
“Riq!” Sera shouted, but he’d already rounded the corner of the new observatory, out of sight. She turned to Dak. “You happy now?”
“Was it something I said?”
Sera rolled her eyes. “When is it not something you said?”
“I was just offering the guy a little romantic guidance.” Dak shook his head. “Some people are too sensitive.”
“We should go after him,” Sera said. She stood up and looked around to try to get her bearings. It was odd seeing all the things that had changed. The updated huts and new trees and paved streets. But at the same time, everything felt so familiar.
“Fine,” Dak said. “But first let’s look at the latest riddle I just pulled up.” Dak turned the SQuare around so Sera could read the screen:
To save the reproduction of the treasure’s truth, do the following:
Seek the help of those who follow “the most important thing in the world”
Then dig deep, deeper, deepest, unlocking a long-locked door
It will take a polyglot to understand the wisdom of the glyphs
and the forgery of the curse
Sera read it twice and then she stood back up, shaking her head. “I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I.”
She wasn’t surprised the difficulty of the riddles was increasing. She knew that the Hystorians hadn’t had time to completely program the SQuare. Things were more vague now. The further they got into the Breaks, the less information they would have.
“What the heck is ‘the most important thing in the world’?” Dak said.
Sera shook her head. “No idea.”
“It seems like an extension of the first riddle, though,” Dak said. “Both talk about truth and the treasure and the curse.”
“The ‘treasure’ is the codex,” Sera said. “We know that much.”
“And the curse is about the Cataclysm described in the Great Mayan Codex.”
Sera just looked at Dak for a few long seconds. “According to Pacal, there was never any mention of a Cataclysm in his codex.”
“None?”
Sera shook her head, trying not to think about what she knew about the Cataclysm.
“And what does the riddle mean by a ‘reproduction’?” Dak asked. “I still wonder if we should’ve just taken Pacal’s codex with us.”
Sera was having trouble concentrating now. She’d stare at the words “unlocking a long-locked door” and all of a sudden she’d find herself remembering the Cataclysm again. Her flooded barn. The bodies she had to turn over.
“A polyglot has something to do with language, right?” Dak said.
“I’m not sure,” Sera said. “But I know someone who would. We really need to go find Riq. We should all be doing this together. And that means you might have to go easy on him for a little while.”
“I guess you’re right,” Dak said, standing up. He looked at Sera. “You know, I really did see him drop a piece of jewelry that Snake Girl had just given him.”
Sera had seen the way Riq looked at Kisa. It couldn’t have been easy for him to say good-bye. “You missed a few things while you were recovering in the cave,” she said.
“I figured as much.”
They started walking around the corner of the observatory, in the direction they’d seen Riq go. As soon as they rounded the corner, Sera nearly ran right into a teenage boy. It wasn’t Riq, though. It was a Mayan boy who had a large bag slung over his left shoulder. He wore an outfit similiar to Dak’s.
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay,” she said, her translator device kicking in to match his dialect.
He straightened his bag and said, “Well, have a nice evening.” He started to leave, but then turned around and looked over Sera and Dak for a few seconds, noting their attire, before saying, “A bunch of us are meeting in the cave in a little while. If you’re interested in practicing the old ways.”
“Maybe we’ll join you,” Dak said.
Sera and Dak watched the boy hurry along the path that Sera remembered led out of the village and up toward the cave. Dak poked her on the shoulder and said, “A bunch of Mayas racing off to the cave. Isn’t this exactly how things started off last time?”
“It is,” Sera said, but she had a sneaking suspicion that the cave served a much different function in 1562.
THE WARPING that seemed so hard on everyone else was practically therapeutic for Dak. He couldn’t believe how much better he felt as he and Sera continued to wander the village in search of Riq. Only a few days ago — well, a few days ago plus a millennium — a wall had fallen on his head. How many people had had an actual stone wall fall on their head? The number had to be fairly low. And Dak was just walking around like it was nothing. He had to admit, it was a little superhero-esque.
“I’m back, baby,” he muttered under his breath.
And being back meant fixing the Breaks, saving the world — all of it hopefully leading to a heartfelt reunion with his parents that would be shown live on some kind of morning news show. And, no, he wouldn’t be rocking the breechcloth on national TV.
“I don’t see Riq anywhere,” Sera said as they moved down a less crowded village path, about a hundred yards from the observatory.
Dak stopped walking and surveyed the scene. The huts were more modern now and slightly larger. And they were packed in more tightly. He turned to Sera. “Dude, we have to start thinking like the guy. Where would you go if you were in love with a charming snake charmer who’s been deceased for approximately a millennium?”
Sera shot him a disapproving look.
“What?” Dak said. “I’m trying to put myself in the mind of the missing.”
“Not funny.” Sera started walking again.
“You have to admit,” Dak said, following her. “It was pretty wild what she did with all those snakes.”
Sera picked up a rock, tossed it down the path in front of them. “All I know is we were lucky to get out of there alive.”
“I’ll give you that.” Dak watched another small group of Mayas hurry past with bags slung over their shoulders — all of them glancing back down the road behind them, like they were doing something they weren’t supposed to. It suddenly occurred to Dak how much these people’s lives must have changed since the arrival of the Spanish. One thing was for sure, Dak no longer viewed the Maya as untrustworthy. History hadn’t given them nearly enough credit — which made him wonder what else history had gotten wrong.
“What do you think that sculpture symbolizes?” Sera asked, motioning toward the one in front of a stone wall that surrounded a small cluster of huts. It looked like a face partially covered by a net or scales. “I’ve seen it in a few different places now.”
“I’ve seen it, too,” Dak said. “My guess is it reads In Honor of Dak Smyth, Our Eternal Hero.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Sera scoffed.
“Because of, you know, how I saved that little girl or whatever. You saw all the flowers and food they left me, right?”
Sera rolled her eyes.
Another group of Mayas passed by, slightly larger tha
n the one before. “Excuse me,” Sera said to the last young woman. She pointed at the sculpture. “Do you know what that means?”
“Of course,” the woman said, backpedaling as she spoke to Sera. “It’s the secret symbol of friendship.”
“Secret symbol of friendship?” Dak said. “That’s weird. If it’s so secret, why’s it in so many different places?”
The woman looked Dak up and down. It was clear she hadn’t noticed him when she’d spoken to Sera. “I’m sorry, but we’re actually in a hurry,” the woman said. She turned back around and jogged a few steps to catch up with her friends.
Dak looked at Sera. “Clearly, she was intimidated by my imposing physique.”
“That’s probably what it was,” Sera said. “Why don’t you let me do the talking from now on?”
Dak shrugged. He had to admit that Sera did a better job of blending in here. “Suit yourself. Anyway, it sure seems like a lot of people are heading up to the cave. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“What?”
“That we should follow them, check out what’s going on?”
Sera put her hands on her hips and looked away from Dak for a few seconds. He followed her eyes down the alley where two Franciscan monks were walking side by side in stuffy-looking robes. “We can’t just leave Riq,” Sera said.
“We’re not leaving him,” Dak told her. “We’re just momentarily suspending our search. Besides, isn’t this mission bigger than any one person? That’s what Riq always says. Just because he’s off somewhere pining over Medusa doesn’t mean the rest of us are supposed to stop working.”
Sera was staring at Dak with a sad expression on her face. Like she felt sorry for him. He’d caught her staring at him this way a number of times since they landed here. He didn’t understand. Why would anyone feel sorry for him? Was it because of his parents? Sure, it was rotten luck they’d been lost in the river of time, but they’d be reunited. And in the meantime he was busy living history, fixing it where it needed to be fixed. “Look,” Dak said, breaking eye contact, “I promise we’ll come right back down. Unless you wanna stick around for a conversation with those guys.” He motioned toward the monks.
Curse of the Ancients Page 8
