The Copper Egg

by Catherine Friend

  “It is what women of your class must do.”

  Waves crashed at their side as the fine mist caressed their skin. Ixchel tasted salt on Cualli’s lips. Birds wheeled above.

  “But, Ixchel, I love you. I love Tochi only as a friend.”

  Ixchel felt the love singing between them like a string played by the wind. “We will continue to love. Tochi will understand.”

  Cualli hugged her tightly. “You are right. We can all be happy together.”

  Ixchel swelled with happiness. She kissed Cualli—warm and deep and smooth.

  Seals barked offshore. Ixchel looked to the north. Nothing but beach and sand stretched in that direction.

  Two eggs nestled in Ixchel’s pocket. “I have a gift for you. Tochi is royal, which means he is a golden egg. When you marry, you shall be the wife of royalty, or a silver egg.”

  She slid the silver egg into Cualli’s perfect palm.

  “Ohhh. So beautiful.”

  “Uncle made it. He taught me to etch. I etched my copper egg, too.”

  Shyly, she showed Cualli the copper egg. “Uncle says this will save my life one day.”

  They exchanged more warm kisses. Cualli’s insistent hands slid lower and moved deeper.

  Ixchel closed her eyes. Silver egg and copper egg…Cualli and Ixchel.

  When Claire came out of the vision, the phone was still in her hand. She put it to her ear. Nothing but silence. The END CALL button still glowed. Had Claire called Sochi? Had she answered? She would have heard nothing but heavy breathing, with Claire’s caller ID attached to it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sochi

  Thursday, March 30

  Despite the disastrous fight her men had gotten into the previous night, Sochi let Rigo talk her into going out again tonight. She’d told Deep Throat she was done, yet here she was, still La Bruja.

  But as Sochi followed her men toward their target in the dark, her phone vibrated, with Claire’s face on the screen. Sochi froze. Should she answer? Would it be cowardly not to answer? Finally, she took the call, nervous as hell. “Hello,” she said as coldly as she could. But then—nothing. Claire didn’t say a word. She just breathed into the phone. Was that supposed to be funny? It was just as cruel as the envelope Claire had slipped under her door the day they’d ended it. At least then Sochi had the satisfaction of setting it on fire. Couldn’t do that with a phone call.

  She shut off her phone and forced herself to concentrate. The plan tonight was the same as usual—encourage the local looter to go elsewhere so La Bruja and her men could take over the site. Much as Sochi hated being an actual looter, she did take pride in the long list of artifacts La Bruja had recovered and saved from being smuggled out of the country.

  As usual, Sochi hung back as her men rushed the looters. But this time the shouts were followed by complete silence. She dashed over the ridge to find a gun pointed at Tomas’s head. A native man, as blocky and warrior-like as Rigo, held the gun. No one moved.

  Sochi stuffed down her fear and strolled into the scene. While the man held his gun on Tomas, he was glaring at Rigo. The armed man flicked his gaze her way, then sneered and turned back to Rigo. “Of course. You are La Bruja’s man.”

  “And you are?” She walked up to the man, shooting a look at Tomas that said Don’t be an idiot. Stay put.

  “I am Nopa. This is Higuchi’s dig. Fuck off.”

  She jammed her fists into her pockets. “Well, we like this spot. We thought we’d stay awhile.”

  “Higuchi is furious with you. You interfere. You are not welcome. Go away.”

  That Higuchi was furious meant Deep Throat’s plan to harass Higuchi might be working after all.

  Her throat tightened. “We think Higuchi should be more generous and share some of the spoils. Looters should stick together, don’t you think? You find more treasures than we do, so let us have this dig. Go use your amazing luck to find another.”

  Nopa’s grin gave her the shivers. The guy was wacko. “We aren’t leaving.” He stepped forward until he was much closer to Tomas now. “While Señor Higuchi might be upset if I killed you, he won’t mind if I pop off your boy here.”

  His finger curled around the trigger. Fast as a panther, Rigo put himself between Tomas and Nopa. Now the gun was pointed at Rigo’s chest. No! Not until Rigo stood in front of the gun did she realize how attached she’d become to her second-in-command.

  “That won’t stop me!” Nopa cried. He stepped closer, jamming the barrel of the gun against Rigo’s heart.

  The two men stared at each other. “This is not the way,” Rigo said quietly.

  Sochi licked her lips. “Do you two know each other?”

  “Yes,” Rigo said, but didn’t elaborate.

  Tension electrified the air. Sochi scanned both groups, alarmed to see that many of Nopa’s men were armed. None of hers had more than sticks or clubs.

  “What have you found here?” she asked.

  Nopa’s gaze stayed locked with Rigo’s. “Nothing.”

  “Then give us the site. Why should you waste your valuable time here?” She wanted to pull Rigo away but knew he wouldn’t budge. “If you know Rigo, you should understand that he is not leaving. This stubbornness has nothing to do with the site and everything to do with the gun you’re pointing at him. He will not leave. I don’t know your relationship, but do you really want to kill him?”

  Nopa looked at her, then leaned forward and whispered something to Rigo. Then he jammed his gun into his waistband and motioned to his men. Silently, they gathered their equipment. “I will let you have the site, but only because Rigo doesn’t understand the danger. Next time, I will kill him, and now he knows it.”

  A few minutes later, when they were gone, the men gathered around Tomas and Rigo, congratulating them on their bravery. Then as they started digging, Sochi moved up next to Rigo. “How do you know Nopa?”

  Rigo scowled and bent over his shovel. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

  She waited, but he refused to say more, so she eventually stepped away.

  An hour later, tired and distracted, Sochi sat down in the dark. Insects chattered quietly, and the highway noise was light. After living in the United States as a child, when Sochi returned to live in Peru she’d fallen in love with the silence. Most of the time the only sound heard outside of the cities was nature herself.

  Stars and nebulae danced overhead. People in the Northern Hemisphere thought they had a great night sky, with the Big Dipper and the Northern Lights, but it was nothing compared to the sky in the Southern Hemisphere. A Dutch astronomer had once said the Southern Hemisphere held all the “good stuff.” It had the two best globular clusters, the largest and brightest naked eye galaxies, and some of the largest nebulae. Sochi lay back and cradled her head in her hands.

  What did she want out of life? She wanted to succeed at her job, even if Aurelio could be a jerk. She wanted Mima to be safe. She wanted to find love again. Claire’s heavy-breathing phone call convinced Sochi she needed to set up a real date with Maria Menendez in order to distract herself from Claire.

  Something changed. Her ears picked up a new sound, soft but mechanical, rhythmic, like a motor. She used her hand to block out the brightest nebula, then scanned the sky. There. To the north. A shadow that was blacker than the sky. She sat up. Gods. A drone was headed right for them.

  Sochi leapt to her feet, dashed to the nearest lantern, and kicked it over, shouting for the others to be doused. “Drone,” she yelled. “Don’t look up. Don’t look into anything that might reflect your face up to the camera.” Heart racing, she ran for her car as the men scattered.

  “Kick up dust with your tires so they can’t see the plates,” Rigo shouted.

  The drone hovered for five minutes as everyone hid in the shadows, then it moved on. If Manuel was getting a live feed from the drone, he’d send the police.

  Sochi stood. “Time to leave.” The men scattered for their vehicles. Tonight’s treasure hunt w
as over. Before she left, she touched Rigo on the shoulder. “I wish you hadn’t put yourself in danger.”

  “He wasn’t going to shoot me, but he would have shot Tomas.”

  “What about me? Would he have shot me? Higuchi’s starting to blame us for taking more out of the ground than he is.”

  Rigo hesitated. “I don’t know if Nopa would have shot you. Let’s not find out, okay?”

  “Deal.” She thought about how sad she’d be to lose Rigo. “Rigo, be careful.”

  “You too, jefe. We make a good team.”

  “That we do. Good night, Rigo.” They did make a good team, but that partnership must end soon. Despite Deep Throat’s insistence that she continue, the second Sochi heard the drone she knew that La Bruja had retired.

  *

  Sochi opted for a long soak in the tub instead of a shower, sighing wearily as she sank up to her neck in frothy water smelling of lavender, then continued puzzling over her future. She wanted to preserve every item she could from Peru’s rich past. Having a settled life with a woman who loved her would be nice, but that hadn’t worked out. Her friend Lila had tried to tell Sochi that Claire wasn’t the only woman for her, and she’d laughed and agreed. But deep in her core, she knew the truth and hated herself because of it.

  And what about La Bruja sin Corazon? What did she want? Sochi ran a handful of bubbles up her wet thigh. If she was caught and Deep Throat did not acknowledge her, she could be sentenced to a minimum of ten years in prison. She doubted the Peruvian legal system would consider it acceptable to break the law in order to save Peru’s history. Her brain began to throb as she tried puzzling out her endgame as La Bruja, so she gave up. That part of her life was over anyway.

  After toweling off and donning faded sweats and a T-shirt, Sochi slouched in her most comfortable chair, a wide-bodied beast with an ottoman as big as the chair, her tablet on her lap. She Googled “Maria Menendez, Lima, Peru,” but found nothing other than her connection to the CNTP and her family’s sugar business.

  Their time at Huanchaco Beach had been the most fun Sochi’d had in years…three years, to be exact. They’d rented two boats, since Sochi wasn’t about to share the caballito with another woman. Like that had worked out so well the first time.

  Maria was a quick learner, and soon they’d moved from the beginner waves to the more advanced. Sochi’s hair became stiff with sand and seawater, and her muscles ached, but she had felt weightless, a hot air balloon cut free from its moorings.

  But Maria hadn’t given her any sign that she was gay. She’d flirted more with Sochi in the CNTP offices than on the beach, almost as if now that she had Sochi alone, or at least alone with hundreds of others on the beach, she was afraid to be herself. Or maybe she was straight, and had just been flirting for the hell of it.

  Sochi tried different combinations with Maria’s name: lesbian, gay, rainbow. Nothing. She even dredged the scummy gossip blogs, trying derogatory terms for lesbian like marimacha or cachapera. Nothing.

  She blew out a breath and tugged at her wet hair. Each tug left a tuft standing entirely upright. She thought about calling Lila, but couldn’t, even though her friend had kept her sane whenever Sochi had wanted to break apart after Claire left. But La Bruja had managed to kill even her friendship with Lila.

  Maybe the next step would be to ask Maria out for dinner. No pressure. But Sochi would make it clear it was a date.

  *

  Friday morning as she dressed, Sochi jumped at an incoming text. It was from Hudson: Got it. Meet me in 30 minutes near McDonald’s. She hurried downtown.

  Half an hour later, Sochi slid into the passenger seat of Hudson’s battered Range Rover. The SUV smelled of French fries and catsup.

  “McDonald’s?” she snapped. “You’d make a classy spy.”

  “Funny.” He tucked his unwashed sandy hair behind an ear, then opened the gym bag on his lap and pulled out a small aluminum box. Inside the box a coil of a clear substance rested in molded Styrofoam, looking like the ghost of a tiny snake. There were only about eight inches of material. A small black receiver with a screen was nestled into the depression next to the coil.

  “It’s real,” Sochi breathed.

  “Your hunch was right. The developers gave the Americans a faulty version of NanoTrax to get them out of the picture.”

  “How did you get it, and so quickly?”

  “That information isn’t part of the deal.” He gently removed the small coil. “Put this in the sun to warm it up—do not use a microwave or an oven. You’ll ruin it. You’ll need at least two inches for a viable signal. Cut it with a knife. Place the NanoTrax on the backflap. Along the seam of the handle would be best.” She leaned forward as he explained how to use a warm finger to smooth out the NanoTrax, and then let it set for forty-eight hours.

  “Then you’ll need to charge it. I’m fuzzy on this part—perhaps jumper cables to a car battery? Or strip the wires from a lamp, plug it in, and touch the wires to the NanoTrax?”

  He pulled out the receiver. “Turn this on and set it to the frequency on this card. The screen will show the movement of the backflap superimposed over a map of northern Peru. I’m not sure what will happen if the signal goes off the map, like into Ecuador or something. A new map may appear. I can’t actually demonstrate the tracking part without applying the NanoTrax, but you can practice once the material’s on the backflap.”

  Sochi took the box. While she didn’t have much faith in Aurelio’s plan, this stuff was fascinating. Perhaps they actually could shut Higuchi down.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? How is that possible?”

  Hudson shrugged. “Called in a favor from a friend. That’s all you need to know. Now it’s your turn. You promised I could pick some items from the vault to use as bait.”

  “What difference does it make? The items will be wrapped up. He’ll take them and be gone.”

  “Not Higuchi. He’ll open every item to make sure it’s worth the risk.” He handed her a list. “These three items should catch Higuchi’s attention.”

  Sochi winced. The gold and amber pectoral. The small Chimú war shield. The set of Moche nose ornaments, crafted of gold and silver. Suspicion bloomed in her chest, but she ignored it. With the NanoTrax attached to the items, none of them could be spirited out of the country.

  Exhausted, Sochi headed back to the office. But just as she parked, she received another text. Groaning, she checked it. Adrenaline filled her veins. It was Mima’s Help text.

  She raced over to Mima’s apartment building, barely letting her car stop before leaping out and taking the stairs two at a time. Mima’s door was ajar. Sochi flew through the apartment. “Mima! Mima!” A kitchen chair was overturned. A painted, wooden cross had fallen off the wall and split in two.

  “Mima!” The cell phone was on the floor, crushed by an angry heel.

  This had to be Deep Throat. What the hell was she going to do? Call the police and tell them a respected member of the regional government had just kidnapped her grandmother?

  As Sochi stood there trembling, panic clutched at her chest. Where was Mima?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Claire

  Friday, March 31

  Claire had been in Peru for nearly two weeks, and she was exactly zero percent closer to meeting her goal. She’d been threatened by the country’s top drug dealer and had possibly phone-stalked her ex-girlfriend. Hardly a successful trip. It was way past time to go home. This whole trip had been a stupid, stupid idea.

  Claire sat on the narrow balcony off her hotel room, where there was just enough room for one chair and a small table, which she’d filled with a bottle of wine, a glass, and a chaotic plateful of cheese and crackers and fruit. She regretted giving Nancho the day off, but he needed to take one of his kids to the doctor.

  Also, Claire was tired of leading her trio of clowns on their daily wild goose chase. And she didn’t know what upset her m
ore—her scary conversation with Higuchi at Las Dulces, where he’d threatened her, or that she might have dialed Sochi and then breathed in her ear during the Ixchel vision. Both terrified her. Mima had always said if your life was broken, stop and fix it. The only way to fix this was to leave.

  Claire stared at the copper egg in her hand and realized she’d almost come to hate it. It would give her short, vivid flashes of Ixchel’s life, then it would clam up and give her nothing for days. Hudson’s shaman friend didn’t have time to see her for a few more days, so all her questions festered in her head.

  She lifted up the egg. “Why are you so freaking uncooperative? I need more information. I don’t know one goddamned thing about Chaco’s tomb. And I blame you!”

  There was nothing like yelling at an inanimate object to make you feel like a crazy person. Just as Claire sighed and gave up, the egg came to life.

  Ixchel huddled outside her house, crouched below the main window, trembling. A man was inside with Uncle and Auntie. He had a painfully harsh voice, like sand grinding against skin. The voice brought back memories of Papa’s fear, and of Papa hiding her in a basket and running. This man was part of her past, but she didn’t know why.

  “I am King Chaco’s chief administrator. I demand to see this Ixchel, daughter of Atl.”

  Uncle said, “Ixchel is our child, not the daughter of anyone else.”

  “She is promised to the king as one of his attendants once he dies. She escaped years ago, but luckily our blessed ruler did not then join his ancestors in the sky. However, I have tracked Ixchel to this house because our king is now gravely ill.”

  Auntie was crying. “You have wasted your time. There is no Ixchel here.”

  “When my beloved ruler’s time comes again, Ixchel will be sacrificed, no matter if she is five or fifteen or twenty-five and with child. She is on my list. Chaco demands she accompany him on his journey when that journey happens.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Auntie asked. “Why would you despise such a sweet child?”

  “It is not her I despise. No, it is her father, Atl. He considers himself far too clever with his hands, with his mind. He thinks he will outsmart me. He hid Ixchel from me once, but I will find her. The best way to destroy Atl is to make sure his daughter meets the fate for which she was intended.”