All through breakfast Nick wondered what their special job would be. Maybe there were tunnels so small only kids could fit inside. Maybe the archaeologists would lower them into treasure rooms on ropes and let them pry open caskets. Maybe they’d get to look for the item of power—the missing link that could prove Angelo’s theory once and for all.
But after they cleared their trays and marched out to the site, they discovered that their special job was none of those. Their first clue was when they were given thick gloves and pruning shears.
“What are these for?” Carter asked. “They look like the kind of cutters my dad uses in the garden.”
That’s exactly what they were. Dr. Canul had ordered a couple of workers to run knotted ropes down the side of the pyramid of the moon—which was much steeper and harder to scale than the pyramid of the sun. When they reached the top, they found themselves cutting vines and bushes away from the crumbling stone buildings there. Unlike at the other temple, it didn’t look like anyone had bothered to come up here, and plants were growing everywhere.
“I can’t believe this is our special job,” Nick complained. It was backbreaking work snipping off the thick, woody branches, and his arms ached after less than an hour. Plus, the mosquitoes were relentless—buzzing around his face and biting every square inch of skin they could find. Meanwhile his mom and dad were sitting in the shade getting to see treasures.
“I suspect Dr. Canul had something to do with it,” Angelo said. “He probably wants to keep us as far away from whatever he’s up to as possible.” He pulled away a long section of vine from a dangerously leaning wall and tossed it aside. “I wish I had my DNA results to prove aliens are real.”
Nick waved at a cloud of mosquitoes. “Couldn’t you have started the tester this morning?”
“I could if I had electricity,” Angelo said. “Somehow we’ve got to find a way to plug into one of the camp generators.”
“If I’d known I was going to be a gardener, I’d have stayed at the hotel,” Carter said, although he’d cut bushes for only a few minutes before going back to his knitting. “And when we get done, we have to climb back down the pyramid again. We’ll be lucky if we don’t fall and break our legs.”
Nick scissored his shears on the trunk of a leafy bush, straining until the blade finally cut through. “I wonder why this pyramid is so much steeper than the other one. It’s almost like the people who built it didn’t want anyone to climb it.”
Angelo leaned against the stone wall, using its shade to cool off a little, and took a long drink from his canteen. “They probably didn’t.”
“What do you mean?” Nick kicked away the bush he’d cut and joined Angelo in the shade. The bugs were as bad, but it felt good to get out of the broiling sun.
“The Mayans built two kinds of pyramids,” Angelo said. “One was meant to be climbed. They used those for sacrifices and other ceremonies. Did you notice how big the temple there was compared to this one? The other kind—this kind—was more sacred. It was climbed rarely and was usually considered the home to a powerful god.”
Nick glanced at the shadowy interior of the temple behind him. Unlike the temple on the pyramid of the sun, this one looked like it could fall over with one big push. “What kind of god?”
Angelo shook his head. “No idea. The first archaeologists who came here didn’t even realize there were two pyramids. They thought this was a hill.” He brushed away the vines hanging over the entrance and walked inside.
Nick paused outside the entrance to the temple. The ruined building had a dank, moldy sort of smell to it that made him think of open coffins and rotting bodies. Plus, the events of the night before still freaked him out a little. Had he heard the voices of ghosts, or had it really been only the sound of the underground river? Hesitantly, he followed Angelo.
It looked like no one had been inside for hundreds of years. Vines, grass, and even a few small trees grew from cracks in stone. It was like walking into a damp, hot cave. Everything was hidden in shadows, and the floors were covered with dark green plants that felt slippery beneath his feet.
“It smells like the monkey cages in the zoo,” Carter said, coming in behind him. “You think there are any animals living in here?”
Nick looked around. Great, another thing to worry about.
Angelo brushed away dirt and vines from one of the walls, exposing faint carvings of people. “I think this is some kind of history of the kings. That’s obviously the boy king. This is his father the king. Then this must be the boy king’s grandfather.” He shook his head. “I wish I could read these hieroglyphs; I might be able to figure out who, or what, was worshiped here.”
“Si pudieras leer jeroglíficos, perdería mi trabajo,” said a female voice.
Nick stumbled toward the light of the doorway. “Did you hear that?” he squeaked.
From behind the wall stepped a woman with long, dark hair and brown eyes that looked like bottomless pits. With her face half hidden in the shadows, Nick couldn’t tell whether she was real or a ghost. But Carter and Angelo seemed to see her as well.
The woman looked the three boys over. “Do you mind . . . telling me what . . . the three of you are . . . doing here?”
Angelo held out his clippers. “We’re, um, cutting vines.”
“Who are you?” Nick said, getting back his nerve. “And what did you say before?”
The woman moved into the light, and her eyes, which had looked scary before, now gleamed with interest. “Si pudieras leer jeroglíficos, perdería mi trabajo. If you could read hieroglyphs, I’d lose my job.”
“You work here?” Carter blurted. “But you’re a lady.”
The woman tilted her head. “Gracias por notarla. Thank you for noticing. And you are a . . . boy, I believe? Or possibly some sort of howler monkey? You have the voice for it.”
Carter blushed. “I didn’t mean . . . It’s just . . . I didn’t know there were any ladies working here.” He looked at Nick. “I mean, besides Nick’s mom.”
The woman flashed the smallest bit of white teeth in what might have been a smile. “I’m Dr. Sofia Lopez. And I believe you must be Nick, Carter, and Angelo.”
“How did you know our names?” Nick asked. He didn’t remember seeing the woman around the camp—either when they’d arrived or at any of the meals.
“I know more than that,” she said. “You might say knowing things is my job. But what I don’t know is why you’re here. From what I’ve heard, all the excitement is at la pirámide del sol.” She jerked her thumb toward the other pyramid.
Nick clipped a vine and pulled it viciously from the wall. “We got caught trying to explore last night.”
“Dr. Canul was none too happy about it,” Angelo said.
Dr. Lopez nodded knowingly. “That explains it, all right. You’ve been exiled to the boring pyramid.”
“You could say that,” Nick said.
Carter stuck his needles into his yarn ball. “Are you an archaeologist?”
Nick thought it was kind of a dumb question. After all, who else would be climbing around a crumbling pyramid? But the woman shook her head. “As a matter of fact, I’m not. I’m a librarian.”
Carter leaned past the woman to look deeper into the temple. “Are you saying there are a bunch of books in here?”
“Libros?” the woman asked, clearly confused.
“You said you were a librarian,” Carter said. “This is like the most run-down library I’ve ever seen.”
“Ahh.” She smiled. “Not that kind of librarian. I am an expert on Mayan script.”
Angelo’s eyes lit up.
“You know what these hiero-whatchamacallits mean?” Nick asked, pointing to the pictures carved into the walls.
“Hieroglyphs. From the Latin words hieros, meaning ‘sacred,’ and glyphe, meaning ‘carving.’” Dr. Lopez ran a finger gently over the dirt-crusted wall, and Angelo stared at her like he was in love. “That’s actually a mistake though. Early European
explorers thought these carvings looked like Egyptian hieroglyphs.”
“But Mayan writing is no more related to the Egyptian hieroglyphs than English is to Japanese,” Angelo said.
“Correct.” Dr. Lopez smiled, making Angelo beam. “Mayan script is composed of five hundred and fifty logograms, which represent whole words, and a hundred and fifty syllabograms, which represent—”
“Syllables,” Angelo cut in. “I got that far in my reading. But I never made it to the actual translations.”
Nick could see the two of them going on all day like this, and his stomach was already starting to growl for lunch. “Could we, um, get to the point? If you can read this script stuff, what does it say?” He gave Angelo a meaningful look. “And how does it help us figure out whether you-know-whats were you-know-where?”
Angelo frowned.
Dr. Lopez looked from one boy to the other. It was obvious she wanted an explanation, but Nick wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her anything. The last two times they’d brought up aliens, it hadn’t gone very well.
Apparently Angelo felt the same way. He quickly turned the conversation back to the carvings. “What does this say? It looks like a history of the kings.”
The librarian gave Nick one last curious glance before turning to study the wall. She cleared away dirt and pulled down several vines. “Yes.” She traced her finger along a series of carvings that made no sense at all to Nick. Occasionally she would brush at the wall, trying to make something out.
“The Mayans believed in three planes: the earth; the underworld, Xibalba, below; and the heavens above. They believed that the sun and the moon were gods who left the sky every night and went to the underworld. Thus, this pyramid was for the goddess of the moon, and the other pyramid honored the god of the sun. The Mayans believed that when you die you must pass through the underworld—a place of tests and trials. Caves, tunnels, and sacred pools were believed to be entrances to Xibalba.”
“See. That’s what I was telling you about,” Angelo said.
She pointed to the text Angelo had been unable to figure out. “According to this, male royalty were buried in the pyramid of the sun. The boy king, his father, and his grandfather. Female royalty were buried here. His mother was not considered to have royal blood, because she married into the line.” She touched a picture of a woman in a fancy headdress. “But the king’s father had one sibling—a sister. She was the boy’s aunt and would have been royalty. If those of royal blood passed through Xibalba, they could be reborn as gods in the sky.”
Angelo leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “They thought their kings went to the sky?”
Dr. Lopez nodded. “If they passed certain tests. The carvings in this temple are interesting. If I’m reading them right, they seem to be talking about an item of power that belonged to the king. The item,” she said, pointing to another picture that looked like a chest, “was being held for the king by his aunt and uncle. I think it was to help him get past the death gods, One Death and Seven Death.”
She pulled away more vines. “Hmmm. This is a little worn away. I’ll have to bring back my equipment and see if I can clear it up. But I think the item was somehow associated with the ten demons of death.”
Nick felt a cold chill run over his body. All this talk of demons and death was freaking him out. Especially in this small, foul-smelling building. But Angelo walked deeper inside, eyes wide, like he’d just been given a free pass to Disneyland. He stopped beside a crumbling slab. “Is this another altar?”
The librarian nodded. “As you can see, it’s quite heavily damaged. The entire temple is in bad shape. It’s one of the reasons the archaeologists have spent most of their time exploring the other pyramid instead of this one. I’d take you inside, but I’m afraid you’d find it rather boring.”
Carter looked up from his nearly finished serape. “Are you saying we can go in?”
Dr. Lopez waved a cloud of mosquitoes from her face. “There’s not much to see. But it would get us away from the bugs.”
“Show me the way,” Angelo said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
The librarian smiled. “You’re practically standing on it.” She herded the boys back from the altar and knelt on the one completely clear section of floor. The floor was covered with a series of carvings that seemed to represent the day and night skies. “The trigger is muy ingenioso. You place one hand on the moon, one hand on the sun, push down on both, and . . .”
There was an audible click, and the altar moved ever so slightly. Dr. Lopez stood up and pushed the altar. It turned with a low rumble, revealing a dark staircase. Cool, musty air rose from the opening.
“Awesome,” Carter said. “Are there any coffins or treasure?”
Dr. Lopez waved a hand. “See for yourself.”
“I wish I’d brought my swabs,” Angelo said.
“Your what?” The librarian frowned.
Angelo blinked. “I mean, my um, flashlight.”
“You won’t need it.” Dr. Lopez walked down the stairs, her body slowly disappearing as she moved farther into the entrance. “As you can see, the people who built the pyramid thought of everything.” Her voice echoed from below.
Angelo hurried down the stairs behind her. “You guys have to see this,” he called up.
Carter tucked his knitting under one arm and started down the steps. “You coming?”
Nick rubbed his hands on his dusty jeans. “Maybe I’ll just wait out here.”
“Afraid a mummy will grab you?” Carter grinned. “The great thing about mummies is they’re really slow. You could walk away from them and still not get caught. Unless they have motorcycles. I saw this one movie where these mummies were all riding Harleys. Every once in a while one of them would get his bandages caught in the—”
“Fine,” Nick interrupted. “I’ll come down if you promise to stop talking.”
“Excuse me,” Carter said, disappearing into the dark entrance. “Some people like a good mummy movie.”
“Some people know the difference between a good mummy movie and a bad one.” Nick took one last look around the temple and headed down the stairs.
The first thing he noticed when he reached the bottom of the staircase was that although they were underground, the tunnel was nearly as light as the temple. “Torches?” he asked, looking around.
“Better,” Angelo said. He pointed to a series of polished metal dishes that looked sort of like brass. “They made mirrors to reflect the sun from the entrance.”
“Not quite,” Dr. Lopez said. “Both of the pyramids of Aktun are built to mark the summer solstice—the longest day of the year—and the winter solstice—the shortest day of the year.”
She tapped the closest mirror to the entrance. “I’ve been polishing these mirrors and studying how they align on different dates. My guess is that at a certain point during the winter solstice, the moon reflects through the temple roof, down the stairs, and off one mirror to another all the way to the bottom of this pyramid. Tomorrow night is the winter solstice, and I was hoping to check it.” The librarian sighed. “Unfortunately that isn’t going to happen.”
“Why not?” Nick asked, interested in spite of his nervousness.
“Look for yourself.” Dr. Lopez pointed down the tunnel.
The boys turned to see that the sloping hallway ended abruptly after less than a dozen feet.
“That’s it?” Carter asked, walking to the dead end. “What a rip-off. What did they do, forget to pay their workers?”
“I wish I knew,” Dr. Lopez said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out since I got here. Dr. Canul thinks this was simply a place to store items used during ceremonies in the temple. Maybe he’s right.”
Angelo studied the wall at the end of the tunnel. “There’s something carved here.”
The librarian nodded. “Good eye. I didn’t spot it myself right away. The writing is faint. It’s not as easy to make out as some of the temple writings. But from what I
can tell, there seem to be two possible translations. The first is simply ‘This is the start.’”
“The start of what?” Angelo asked. “It should say, ‘This is the end.’”
Carter laughed. “That’s awesome. It’s like a Mayan knock-knock joke. Knock knock. Who’s there? No one. This isn’t even a door.”
Nick shook his head. “I’m pretty sure the Mayans weren’t into knock-knock jokes.”
Dr. Lopez raised her hands. “Maybe it is a joke. I’ve searched every inch of this passage and there is no way to get past that wall.”
“What’s the other translation?” Nick asked.
“Death is the start,” Dr. Lopez said in a soft voice that didn’t sound at all like her.
Nick turned around. “‘Death is the start’? What does that even mean?”
The librarian gaped at him, eyes wide. “How did you know that?”
“Know what?” Nick asked.
“It’s taken me over a week to figure out that translation. And even then I wasn’t sure. How did you translate that?”
“I didn’t translate anything. You told me what it said.” Nick realized Carter and Angelo were staring at him. “You guys heard Dr. Lopez? I asked her what the second translation was, and she said, ‘Death is the start.’”
Both his friends shook their heads.
“Death is the start. And the time is close at hand,” said the same voice that had spoken before. Only this time, Nick could see Dr. Lopez’s lips weren’t moving. Suddenly the room seemed too tight around him. The cold air felt like a finger running down his back, and he couldn’t breathe. “I have to get out of here now,” he gasped.
“Are you going to tell us what happened back there?” Angelo asked.
The three boys were in the meal tent, huddled together at a table over lunch. Despite his friends’ questions and the librarian’s curiosity, he’d refused to talk about what he’d heard inside the pyramid. All he’d wanted to do was get out of there and back to camp.
Nick took a bite of his refried beans and stared at his plate. “I told you. Nothing happened.”
Curse of the Mummy's Uncle Page 7
