“Make it strong and keep ’em coming. I’ve been shaking hands and getting my cheek pinched for three hours and there’s no end in sight.”
“Coming right up, Addison.” Trisha grinned, scooping ice into a glass.
Addison rested an elbow against the bar and turned to survey the room. He spotted Eddie gorging himself on chicken kebabs at a buffet table. He then noticed Raj, sweating with concentration, trying to bring his hand as close as possible to the open flame of a buffet heater. Addison thought ahead to eighth grade and wondered what the future held. They wouldn’t stay young forever. People grow, people change, people move away. Addison decided that no matter what, he needed to make this upcoming summer vacation count.
Trisha the bartender slid over a fresh Arnold Palmer. Addison took a long pull.
Molly joined him at his side. “What is that, your second Arnold Palmer?”
“Third,” Addison admitted.
“Pace yourself.”
“It’s my one indulgence.” He shrugged.
Eddie and Raj approached.
“Have you tried this chicken satay? It’s just like Turkish kebabs, except from Asia!” Eddie polished off a skewer and had six more ready on deck.
Uncle Nigel joined the group. “Enjoying yourselves?”
Eddie’s mouth was too full to answer, but he nodded vigorously.
Helmut Ingleborg parted the crowd, red-faced with excitement. “Dr. Cooke!”
“What is it, Helmut?”
Helmut was too riled up to breathe. “Donations are pouring in. The museum had a good year tonight.”
“Well, that’s good news.”
“That’s not what I came to tell you! I just got off the phone with our sister museum in Hong Kong. You must return to fieldwork at once! They’ve unearthed a hidden Song dynasty fortress in the Gobi Desert!”
“Incredible,” said Uncle Nigel, his eyes lighting up. “How fast can I get there?”
“The museum is already chartering a plane, no?”
“Excellent. I keep a bag packed in my office. I can order provisions and hire a crew once I arrive in China . . .” But as soon as the words left his mouth, Uncle Nigel thought better of it. He looked at Addison, Molly, Eddie, and Raj.
“On second thought,” he said to Helmut, “you’ll have to find someone else. I’ve traveled too much lately. I need to spend more time with my family.”
“But this is impossible, no?” Helmut’s hands flew up over his head. “You are the most qualified to lead this expedition, isn’t it!”
“I’m sorry, Helmut, I just can’t.”
“Take us with you,” suggested Molly.
“Yeah,” said Eddie. “It’s almost summer vacation. We won’t miss any school.”
“And we were helpful on the last trip,” said Raj.
Uncle Nigel shook his head. “Raj, aren’t you and Eddie still grounded for flying to South America without permission?”
“Only for two more weeks,” said Raj eagerly.
Addison saw his window of opportunity. This would require all his powers of persuasion. He stepped forward. “Uncle Nigel, I racked up a lot of transportation charges on your credit card. If you make us your research assistants for the summer, we can work off the debt.”
Uncle Nigel’s eyebrows shot up. He was impressed. “Wow, Addison, that’s actually pretty responsible of you. But still, I can’t just jet you off to China.”
“Why not? The trip is an opportunity for us to spend time together,” said Addison.
Uncle Nigel mulled this over.
“And if the museum is already chartering a flight,” Addison pressed his point, “it makes dollars and sense.”
Aunt Delia emerged from the crowd. “Do you have room on that flight for one more? I’m the number two Song dynasty expert at the museum.”
“Who’s the number one expert?” Molly asked.
All eyes turned to Uncle Nigel. “All right, everyone. Clear your summer schedules, get your travel visas, and start learning Mandarin.” Uncle Nigel smiled. “We’re going to China.”
THE END
Watch for more adventures of
COMING SOON!
Author’s Note
The history of the Incan treasure is stranger than fiction.
The story begins when Francisco Pizarro conquered Peru in 1532. Pizarro lured Atahualpa to the main plaza in Cajamarca, Peru, by promising a safe parley. When Atahualpa arrived, Pizarro simply ambushed him. Atahualpa’s Incan guards were terrified by the sight of Spanish horses and sound of Spanish guns. The Incan guards fled, and Atahualpa was easily captured.
The Spaniards locked Atahualpa in the “Ransom Room” that still stands in Cajamarca. Atahualpa offered to fill the room once over with gold and twice over with silver, in exchange for his release. By the dimensions of the room, this amounted to 3,366 cubic feet of gold and 6,732 cubic feet of silver.
King Atahualpa’s general, Rumiñahui (“Stone Face”), was given two months to gather and deliver the treasure to the Spaniards. When Pizarro executed Atahualpa before the due date, Rumiñahui never delivered. Though he was eventually captured and tortured to death by the Spanish, Rumiñahui never revealed the location of the Incan treasure.
Pizarro squabbled over lands with his fellow conquistador, Diego de Almagro, and eventually ordered him decapitated at the prison in Cusco. Diego de Almagro’s son, nicknamed “El Mozo,” was half Native American. Vowing to avenge his father, El Mozo raised an army of supporters and attacked Pizarro’s palace at Lima, Peru, on June 26, 1541.
Pizarro was somewhere between sixty-two and seventy years old at the time of this surprise attack. While trying to buckle on his armor, Pizarro managed to kill two of the attackers with his sword. While his sword was trapped in a third man, the attackers slit Pizarro’s throat. He fell to the ground and was stabbed repeatedly. Pizarro drew a cross on the floor in his own blood and called out to Jesus Christ before dying. In 1977, Pizarro’s decapitated head was discovered in a lead box, hidden in a secret basement niche in the cathedral at Lima, Peru.
After assassinating Pizarro, El Mozo briefly became governor of Peru. But El Mozo was soon captured by the Spanish at the Battle of Chupas on September 16, 1542. He was executed in the city square at Cuzco.
After five hundred years, it is difficult to know the fates of Pizarro’s Famous Thirteen knights. Pedro de Candia was a firearms expert who was killed by El Mozo at the Battle of Chupas. Domingo de Soraluce eventually became the ruler of Panama and attempted to sail home to Spain with a fortune in gold. He died at sea, and his ship was robbed before it reached port.
Over the centuries, many treasure hunters have met their death pursuing the Incan gold. A Franciscan monk named Father Longo, an Ecuadorian miner named Don Atanasio Guzmán, a British sea captain named Barth Blake, a Scottish treasure hunter named Erskine Loch, an American geologist named Bob Holt—these are just a few of the adventurers who met violent or mysterious deaths while seeking the Incan treasure.
Whether or not the treasure is cursed is a matter of speculation. Whether it is hidden in Ecuador or Peru is also a matter for debate. If the towns of Olvidados and Casa Azar exist, they are too small to be found on any map. As of the publication of this book, the location of the Incan treasure remains a mystery.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my family and friends, without whom I would be far too well adjusted to consider a career in writing. Special thanks to Brianne Johnson, Dana Borowitz, and Beau Flynn, for their help and encouragement. Many thanks to my brilliant editor, Michael Green, and to my younger editors, Christopher Adler, Evan Parter, Leila Pagel, and Harper Oreck. Lastly, thank you to Scott Carr, for inviting me to the party.
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