The table held the instruments necessary for completing the ritual. A small grate with a fire underneath it occupied the center of the table. A knife made of sharpened obsidian was to the right of the grate and a clay bowl filled with water sat just above the knife. The guards moved to the left side of the table where two pairs of thick gloves waited.
The guards pulled the gloves onto their hands and moved back towards the crying girl. Since she was unwilling to perform the necessary steps the guards were required to assist her, but not touch her directly. The girl could not be given unclean.
Stoically, the two men lifted the girl’s body, their hands shielded from direct contact with her skin by the oiled cloth gloves. She did not fight their strong hands. She cried and muttered despairing pleas for help. Depositing her on the stone altar, they back away slowly. The men surrounding her ignored her words and began to tie her body down to the altar with thick leather bands.
***
Coming back to my own time, I felt the tears running down my face again. I opened my eyes to a room still blanketed in darkness. Wiping my tears away, my heart and mind ached. I felt so sorry for the girl, but I pushed the feeling away, reaching instead for anger.
When the dreams had begun they were just sad strange images, now they meant so much more. I knew that the girl was Kivera. It could be no one else. Watching Kivera being forced to the temple to be sacrificed was horrible, but the more I knew about this strange girl, the more mottled my feelings became.
I pitied Kivera’s fate, but hated her, too. I still did not know what the girl had done to bring the curse on my family, but I knew that Kivera was the cause. That thought made my insides boil with anger. I thought of the faces of the dead girls. Dead because of Kivera. I hated Kivera in that moment. I made a promise to myself that I would not fall victim to the vicious machinations of a selfish child.
My anger kept me awake for several hours. Imagining every possible scenario that I could devise to explain the curse, I made plans for each possibility in hopes of keeping myself alive. Never terribly imaginative, I was surprised by the long list I was able to come up with. Wondering and planning, I tried to prepare myself until my eyelids began to droop.
In the dark of early morning, I felt that I was beginning to understand the situation, but as I awoke hours later to morning’s clarifying light, I knew I was still as confused and helpless as before. The only thing I knew for sure was that I needed more information and that I needed help to get it. Today was my last chance to make a difference in my own fate.
Chapter Seventeen
I showered expecting it to revitalize my body, but I was still exhausted as I dressed. Wandering into the kitchen for breakfast, I was greeted by my cheerful mother. As soon as my mom saw me, her face wrinkled into a worried frown.
“Are you okay, Arra?” she asked me. “You don’t look very well. Are you getting sick? You were out too late last night. What was your grandfather thinking, just letting you wander off.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” I said, rubbing my face. “I just didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll be fine. I’m still getting used to the new house and everything.” I knew it was a lie, but one my mom would surely believe.
My mom smiled with understanding. “Oh, Arra, it will take a while to adjust. But, I’m glad you’re trying. I know you miss your old life and friends.”
I had not really thought about Manhattan in quite a while. Right now roadside markets and taxi rides were far from my mind. I realized now how insignificant my complaints had been, how superficial and meaningless refusing to unpack my room had been.
I had become so involved with trying to keep myself from being engulfed by an ancient fate that I had barely considered the unhappiness I had felt about living in the new small town. It hardly mattered any more anyway. In fact I was glad we had come here, glad that my grandpa was near me, especially glad that I had met Tanner. I could not help smirking at the change I felt.
“Mom, I won’t be home for lunch. I’m going to spend most of the day with Grandpa. He asked me to help him with some cleaning and things like that. I’ll probably be gone all day.” I smiled through the lie.
My mom patted my shoulder and said it was fine. I would miss her. I hoped she would miss me too. My mom was amazing. I almost reconsidered going out so I could spend time at home, but my desperation to find out more was the only thing keeping my hope alive. I was convinced that I could make a difference if I could only find the key to the mystery. Kissing my mother goodbye, I headed to my grandpa’s house.
Running the whole twelve blocks, I wheezed with relief when his small brick home came into view. I had not told my grandpa I was coming, but he was watching for me by the window when I ran up. The door was open and he was waiting anxiously for me. Not saying anything to me at first, he just went and sat in his armchair, handing me the hot chocolate he had prepared for me. It was way too early for the sweet drink, but I took it anyway. I could use a little caffeine and sugar this morning. I held it in my hands, drinking deeply. When I finally regained my breath my grandpa began.
“Tell me about the dream, Arra. What did it show you?”
“I don’t know, Grandpa. I know it’s Kivera, but that’s all. Last night I saw her tied to an altar. I saw a black knife, a fire, and a bowl of water on a table. She was crying hysterically and the priest and guards hated her because of it.
“It was terrible to watch. But I know she’s the reason Katie and Maera are dead and I hate her for that. The dreams just aren’t telling me enough though,” I said. I put down the cup with a sigh.
“They will,” my grandpa said, “but not soon enough, I think.”
“I know. I’ll see the rest of it tonight. I’ll find out what Kivera did when I fall asleep. But what good will it do me then? I need to find out as much as I can today. I don’t know if it will help, but I have to do something. I can’t just sit here and wait to die,” I said. Tears filled my eyes as I spoke. My grandpa saw my distress and put his hand on my shoulder in comfort.
“Are you okay, honey?” he asked. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”
I looked up, quickly rubbing my cheeks and eyes.
“I’m exhausted, Grandpa. I barely get any sleep at night before the dreams start. Then I wake up wanting to scream, and if I can get back to sleep, it’s never very restful. I want to pass out for a few days, but I can’t go back to bed now. I’m afraid of losing even a second.” I sighed, letting my head sink into the back of the couch.
“You’re the only one that can help me figure this out,” I said. Tears fell down my cheeks, dripping onto my jeans. Letting my head fall into my hands, I tried to breathe deeply. I needed calm to face this. Desperate and scared, my eyes pleaded for my grandpa’s help.
“I will help you in any way that I can, Arra. Even if that means dousing you with coffee,” he said trying to lighten the mood. “As long as you don’t tell your mom, that is.”
I smiled halfheartedly. My grandpa was not even allowed to drink coffee, for health reasons and by order of my dad. Hot chocolate was not quite an equal substitute but it would have to do for today. Picking up the mug I took another long drink. It was better than nothing.
“I know there’s not a big chance that I’ll make any difference, Grandpa, but I feel like I’m really close. I feel like she’s reaching out to me. She wants me to help me. Or maybe she wants me to help her. I don’t know which, but I think she wants this to stop as much as we do. Why else would we see the dreams first? I can make a difference if I can just find out how.”
“I don’t know how you would help her, Arra. She’s already dead and she’s the one who started it all. I don’t know that she deserves any help even if you could give it,” my grandpa said sourly. He was upset at the idea of helping the person who had killed his sister and daughter, as was I, but I wondered if I could indeed help myself without helping Kivera as well. The look on my grandpa’s face said he was wondering the same thing. His anger so
ftened under my gaze.
“Grandpa, if I help her, maybe it will finally end,” I said.
He nodded his head reluctantly. “I’ve considered the same thing. Forgive my anger, Arra. It’s just that I’ve already lost two of the people I loved because of Kivera. It’s just hard to imagine helping her after that.” He smiled, proud of his granddaughter. “You are good to even think of her needs. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
My grandpa rubbed his wrinkled hands over his face and sighed. “What do you want to do? What do you think will actually help?”
“I want to find out about the Aztec sacrifices. That is the part of the dream I’m still missing. Katie didn’t record the last two nights of the dream in her diary. I need to know how the sacrifice was supposed to happen, and why. Why were they sacrificing her anyway? Was it a punishment or just a ritual? Maybe I’ll be able to figure something out if I know more about what was happening.”
“Okay Arra. The smallest thing might help. I’ve been through much of this already, but a fresh set of eyes and ears may prove the difference,” he said.
Walking to the town’s small public library passed slowly and in silence. My grandpa had a working car and was perfectly capable of driving, but he had insisted on walking. “It will give you time to clear your head,” he had said. I suspected that he was trying to make the trip last longer than necessary. Wondering if he was afraid we would find nothing useful, I guessed that he was simply prolonging the disappointment. I was not completely sure of his reasoning, but he had been adamant in his decision. Irritated, regardless of his fears, I had stalked out of the house.
Simpler than walking to the library, I wished I had access to the internet. The waiting list to get someone out to Grainer had put my family’s installation date still two weeks away. Happy to leave technology in the hands of younger generations, my grandfather had never even considered signing up for internet service. Briefly irritated, once again, by the move to Grainer, I was left with only the library. I was hoping to find books that could tell me about Aztec society, but when the small brick building came into view I worried that the trip would indeed prove to be a waste of precious time.
I searched through the manual card catalog for books about the Aztec’s. The small library had one children’s picture book on the subject and one fictional novel. My frustration deepened. I found myself for the first time in days wishing I could go back to Manhattan, at least for a few hours. The libraries in New York could almost rival the internet. I had no doubt I would have been able to find what I needed.
“Grandpa, there’s nothing here. What are we supposed to do now?” I said exasperated.
“Just be patient, Arra. Let’s ask the librarian. Maybe there will be some other books not in the catalog,” he suggested.
I was getting more anxious as the day past. It was nearing midday and I was beginning to feel like I might not succeed. My grandpa pulled me close to him and gave me a tight hug.
“Calm down, Arra. We’re not out of options yet. I’m here to help you as much as you need me to. Let’s ask someone for help. Come on.”
Heading towards the reference desk, my grandpa put on a polite smile. “Hello, Edna. How are you doing today?” he said warmly.
“Oh Alden, I am doing just wonderful. How nice of you to ask. And how are you doing?” the portly old woman asked.
“Oh, I’m fine, Edna. I’m just here with my granddaughter, Arra. She wanted some books about the Aztecs,” he said, “and we’re having a bit of trouble finding anything historical.”
“Yes,” Edna said with a shake of her head, “we don’t have many books on that subject. Most of our books were donated to us. So we don’t have a very complete selection of topics.” She shuffled some papers into piles as she spoke.
“We do have a couple of bookstores in town if you’d like to check those. I can give you names, but I’m sure you already ready where they are, Alden,” she said. “But actually, don’t you already have a better resource than any book in town? What about your friend Phil?” Turning back to me, she said, “Doctor Phillip Gadner should be able to help. He used to be a teacher at some college in Boston. He’s retired now, but he used to teach history. I don’t know if he ever taught about ancient America, but he’s very knowledgeable. I bet he could tell you what you need to know.”
“Yes, thank you, Edna,” Alden said, “I was planning on paying Phil a visit later this morning. He’s hosting his book club this morning or he would have been our first stop. He should be free soon.”
“Yes, I thought you two were friends. Don’t you and Phil play chess a couple times a week?” Edna asked casually. She seemed to know a lot about my grandpa’s free time. The sweet smiles she gave him started to make sense. I wondered if my grandpa even realized the attention she paid him.
“Yes, we do play chess together,” my grandpa said.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before we came here?” I asked. “You know I don’t want to waste any time today.”
He looked at me apologetically. “I knew you would want to run over to Phil’s house as soon as I mentioned it. But trust me when I say that he would not have even opened his door until his book club meeting was over. He takes his book club very seriously.”
“You could have said that from the start. At least I would have had some hope of finding something useful.” I made an irritated noise in my throat. I wanted to leave. We did not have time for idle chatter.
“Besides, I thought your idea of coming to the library was a good one. I haven’t been here in a while. I thought maybe they would have something useful,” he said.
“Sorry we didn’t have what you were looking for, dear,” Edna said.
“Don’t even worry about it. We’ll just drop by Phil’s then and see if he’s done with his meeting,” my grandpa said politely.
“Good luck, and have a nice day,” Edna said with a smile meant mainly for my grandfather.
My despondency and irritation lessened with this new glimmer of hope. I grabbed her grandpa’s hand and began pulling him away. “Thank you, Edna,” I said, rushing toward the door. “Thank you very much. You’ve been very helpful.”
Chapter Eighteen
Phillip Gadner lived in a two story brick house at the edge of town. The front yard was very neat, every hedge clipped to perfection, flower beds precisely aligned and symmetrical. Even the wildflowers planted in the flower beds seemed to adhere to a strict design. The house could have been straight out of a Thomas Kinkade painting.
I was absolutely shocked when my grandpa’s friend opened the door wearing faded striped pajama bottoms and a terry cloth bathrobe over an old t-shirt. His hair looked as if it had not been brushed in weeks and his beard was a little lopsided. He couldn’t have hosted a book club looking like that, could he have? The books must be terribly interesting. His startling appearance severely diminished the perfection of his home and yard.
“Alden,” he said with a crooked smile. “Are you ready for another match already? Are you so eager to be beat again?”
“It was just a fluke that you beat me last time. I’m sure it won’t happen again,” my grandpa said reaching out to shake his friend’s hand. “How are you doing, old man?”
“He’s calls me an old man,” Phil said, looking at me and laughing. “I’m two years younger than he is, and smarter.” He winked at me. “But you probably don’t believe that, do you?”
“Not at all,” I said uncertainly, glancing at my grandpa. The man was hardly what I expected for a retired history professor. His wild hair and eccentric behavior made me wonder whether his retirement had been wholly of his own free will.
My grandpa patted my shoulder. His aging frame shook with laughter at his animated friend as well as his my confused expression. “Get out of the doorway, Phil, and let us in,” Alden ordered, still laughing.
“Of course, of course, please come in.”
The three of us walked
through the beautiful old home to a small sitting room. Phillip Gadner told us to make ourselves comfortable before excusing himself to the kitchen. I was relieved to find that the same care Mr. Gadner seemed to take with his yard, if not his appearance, carried over to the inside of the house. The home looked much the same as I imagined it would have back when it was first built. Mr. Gadner’s antique furniture completed the picture.
Sitting on a delicate looking couch I looked around the room in amazement. The walls of the room were lined with shelves. Laden with books of every size and shape, the parlor looked more like a library than the town’s actual library had. A beautiful globe, bigger than the coffee table, sat to the side of the fireplace. The storybook feeling persisted.
Mr. Gadner sauntered back into the room carrying a tray filled with tea cups and turkey sandwiches cut into triangles. I stifled a laugh. I had imagined that the elderly professor would swoop into the room with a full tea service, dressed in old English garb, and smoking a pipe. It was close enough. Unfortunately he was still wearing the ratty pajamas and robe. I accepted the tea gratefully.
“Now, I supposed you didn’t actually come by to play chess, today. Poor Arra would be bored to tears,” Mr. Gadner said knowingly. “So why have you dropped by, Alden, other than to introduce me to your lovely granddaughter, that is?”
“We need your expertise,” my grandpa said, careful to keep his tone light. My mood, which had been temporarily lifted by Mr. Gadner’s eccentricities, crashed low with the reminder of why we were here.
“Wonderful. I am always willing to impart my vast knowledge to those seeking to learn,” he said graciously. “What subject would you like to discuss? The Cradle of Civilization? The founding of America? The Ming Dynasty?”
“We need some information about the ancient Aztecs,” my grandpa said. “Human sacrifices specifically.”
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