The Circle of Lies

by Crystal Velasquez

  The driver seemed to like the sound of that. But he scratched at his clean-shaven face and asked, “What hotel?”

  “Uh . . . just let me check the e-mail from her parents real quick.” But of course there was no e-mail to check. I did a quick search on an Internet travel site for hotels near Chichén Itzá and named the first one that popped up on the list. “The Mayan Oasis Hotel.”

  “Bueno,” the driver said. He turned the key in the ignition and started driving.

  We all breathed a sigh of relief and settled in.

  But I couldn’t relax until I checked my phone one last time. It had been hours, and Jason still hadn’t responded to my texts. Why? I knew he might not have wanted to hang out with me anymore, but I thought he at least cared about our mission. Could something have happened to him since we’d seen him in Principal Ferris’s office? I couldn’t help myself. I pulled up his name and typed: R U OK? And before I could change my mind, I hit send. Then I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep. We had a long ride ahead of us.

  Hours later I felt the taxi rumble to a stop. I cracked open my eyes. Doli had fallen asleep against the window, I was slumped against her, and Lin was slumped against me. But the cat was on the floor of the cab, pawing at the door and whining.

  “Estamos aqui,” the driver said.

  I shook Doli and Lin awake. “We’re here.” Doli stretched and opened the door, freeing the cat, who ran behind the nearest bush. I checked my phone to see the time, but was distracted by the sight of two text messages waiting for me. Jason had finally written back. I quickly swiped the screen to read what he had to say at last.

  I’m just not sure what this is.

  A few minutes later he’d added:

  I need some time to think.

  I sucked in my breath, feeling like I’d been shot through the heart. I knew he wasn’t asking for much. But it still hurt. My eyes filled with tears.

  “Hey, you all right?” Doli asked, noticing the stricken look on my face.

  I nodded. “Just tired,” I said. No point in getting into my romantic woes now. We had bigger things to worry about.

  We climbed out of the car, and the driver lifted our bags from the trunk. Lin pulled out her wallet and handed the driver a stack of bills. Thankfully, she still got a generous monthly allowance from her parents. We’d agreed to pay her back when we could.

  “Gracias por todo,” I said to the driver. “Thank you for everything.”

  Lin and Doli thanked him too. Even the cat emerged from the bushes to rub against his leg and purr. He looked around as we stood in the hotel’s covered driveway. “Your parents . . . where are they?” he asked Lin.

  “They’re inside,” she answered quickly, as if she had expected him to ask. “Don’t worry about us. You have a long drive back to Cancún. You should go.” She handed him another ten-dollar bill, shooing him back toward the cab.

  Finally, he shoved the money into his pocket, smiled, and said good-bye, climbing back into his car. As we watched the taillights fade into the distance, Lin asked, “So are we checking in here?”

  Doli huffed. “Are you crazy? We just handed that guy half our money. I doubt we have enough now to even sleep in their driveway.”

  Lin’s face fell. “So what are we going to do?”

  I smiled and whispered, “WWSD?” When I got blank looks from Doli and Lin, I said, “What Would Shani Do? My friends, it’s time to go break into an ancient ruin.”

  chapter 10

  Shani

  WHEN THE MOST EXCITING THING you have to do all day is watch The Karate Kid dubbed in Hindi, you know you’ve got big problems. But it was either that or stare at the walls. It was only eleven in the morning, and already I was the most bored I’d ever been in my entire life. Sonia, Dad, and Kiah had all left for work or school, and I didn’t know anyone in Mumbai. Even the private tutor couldn’t start until next week.

  Ralph Macchio waxed on and off, though I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Then the TV abruptly went black, along with the light hanging from the ceiling. Dad had warned me that power outages were pretty common here, even in the nice parts of town. Now one had taken away the only form of entertainment I had. I screamed in frustration and kicked one of the couch cushions across the room.

  My father’s apartment was starting to feel like a prison, except I was the only convict. It’s not fair. I hadn’t been the only one in the gym, so why was I the only one exiled to no-man’s-land? I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I knew that what had happened to me wasn’t my friends’ fault, and I’d been the one who had stopped Ana from telling Principal Ferris the truth. And I knew that, even if she had, I still would’ve been the only one expelled, since I was the only one caught on tape and, as Lin kept reminding me, I had a record.

  But what had I really done to deserve this lame new life? Stopped a teacher from logging on to Facebook, and turned on some sprinklers? Even if it was just for one semester, the punishment didn’t fit the crime. I had hoped I could start over, but how was I supposed to do that from here?

  I walked to the window that overlooked the city far below, absentmindedly rubbing the lion on my bracelet. I glanced down at it, remembering the first time I’d transformed and how powerful I’d felt, especially because I’d been with Lin, Doli, and Ana. Amazing how quickly everything had changed. I was no longer a Temple Academy student, but was I still a Hunter? I had tried and failed to turn into a lion while the dogs were attacking me. Did that mean I couldn’t do it anymore? I was almost scared of the answer, but I had to know.

  I returned to the center of the living room and closed my eyes. I thought of heavy paws, running through the woods, my hair turning buttery gold. When I opened my eyes, I saw that I was on all fours. It had worked. I quickly transformed back. If Sonia or my dad came home unexpectedly, they’d have heart attacks if they found a lion in their living room. I wondered what possible good being a shape-shifter would do me in Mumbai. Did India have circuses and freak shows?

  And if I wasn’t actively hunting evil, would evil hunt me? Or would Anubis and his minions just leave me—and the world—alone?

  I was walking around the apartment, looking at my father’s and Sonia’s things, when I noticed an English-language newspaper lying on the coffee table. I bent my head and read the headline of a small front-page article.

  EGYPTIAN ARTIFACT FOUND FAR FROM HOME

  I laughed. That could describe me, I thought. I read on.

  Early yesterday morning workers in famed Mumbai temple Shree Siddhivinayak reported finding an artifact believed to be Egyptian in origin. Archaeologist Dr. Joseph Penwar has identified the object as an amulet featuring an amenta, the symbol of the land of the dead. Local historians are puzzled as to how the artifact came to be found in this location. Authorities are investigating the possibility that it was a result of a tourist or researcher who has visited both sites, or the work of a practical joker.

  I stopped laughing, feeling my heart thump in my chest. The whole scenario sounded familiar. Ana had told us that Jason had found a Roman coin where it had no right to be, in a Native American temple. That coin was part of how we found out that the temple was not built by the ancient pueblo peoples as a place for worship after all. It was a meeting place for the members of several ancient civilizations—the Brotherhood of Chaos!

  Did the fact that an Egyptian artifact was found in India mean that the Brotherhood was now using this temple as a meeting place? I had to find out. And I had to tell the other Hunters!

  I ran to my room to get my cell phone so I could text Ana. But only when I had my bag in my hand did I remember: I had no cell phone. And even though I had my laptop, the Wi-Fi was off until Dad came home, and even then I’d have to sneak around to hack in, No cell phone, no Internet, no life. I might as well just go back to bed right now.

  But then I got a grip on myself. Hold on a minute. You can’t just give up because you don’t have Internet access! That would be pathetic. My dad h
ad told me the other night that I was more than these computer screens, and he was right. I could figure this out on my own. Maybe by the time I did, I’d have a Wi-Fi signal again and some interesting new info for my friends. I hoped so, because then it would mean that my banishment had been worthwhile. I put my bag over my shoulder, grabbed my copy of the key, and left the apartment.

  I got to the sidewalk and tried to remember what I could. I had been to Mumbai before with my parents, but the last time had been years ago—before the divorce, before Sonia, and definitely before Mumbai-Lin. Nothing looked the same. But I had paid attention to the route the driver had taken when he’d brought me from the airport. There had been a picture of the temple in the newspaper, and I was pretty sure I had passed it on our way to the apartment. I would follow the same path in reverse to get me into town.

  As I made my way to the busiest part of the city, I realized that Mumbai was total Brotherhood bait. The place was already the definition of chaos, with crazy traffic going in every direction, rickshaws weaving between huge buses and speeding cars, and an oppressive heat threatening to bake everyone where they stood. That must have been why everyone moved so fast here. They were afraid they would melt if they stood still.

  I kept walking until I saw the colorfully painted aluminum structures that told me I was nearing the poorer section of town. Everywhere I looked, someone was selling something—flowers, vegetables, deep-fried bread. When I stopped to look around, three small children ran up to me, saying something excitedly in Hindi and holding out their hands. Their clothes were torn and dirty, and they looked like they hadn’t eaten a decent meal in weeks. I gave them every bit of loose change I had in my pocket, even though it was American money. They shouted happily as they stared at the shiny new coins in their hands, and then tore down the street.

  For a second I smiled. But as I looked around at the muddy roads and overcrowded streets, my smile faded. What was life like for these children? All at once I felt ashamed for complaining about being bored as I sat in my father’s beautiful luxury apartment with a refrigerator full of food and lush carpet under my feet. I always got on Lin about acting like a privileged jerk. It felt terrible to realize that I’d been acting like one too.

  While I was thinking all of this, I must have taken a wrong turn. I passed by a stall selling scarves and saris that I could have sworn I had already passed twice before. I realized with a sinking feeling that I was going around in circles, and now I was so hopelessly lost that I didn’t even know if I could find my way back to the apartment. If only I had my smartphone. Having GPS means never having to say, “I’m lost.”

  I was standing at a street corner with sweat pouring down my back, desperately trying to get my bearings, when I heard a familiar voice yell in English, “Oh-Em-GEE. It’s YOU!”

  I closed my eyes and cursed my luck. Please don’t be her, please don’t be her. . . . I turned around, and sure enough, there she was: Kiah in her maroon-and-white uniform, surrounded by a pack of girls in identical outfits and with identical mean grins on their faces. They’d just emerged from an alleyway and were watching me with grim satisfaction.

  “Is that her?” one of them asked Kiah with a giggle. When Kiah nodded, the girl added, “I see what you mean” and started laughing. When she opened her mouth, I noticed that her two front teeth overlapped, almost as if they were hugging.

  Finally Kiah stepped toward me and crossed her arms. “So what is my new criminal stepsister doing out here?” she asked. “Mugging little children? Or perhaps a little light bank robbery is more your thing? Or maybe”—she got right up in my face while her friends moved in closer—“you just came out here to accuse me of attacking you again.”

  I gasped. She couldn’t have heard that conversation with Dad this morning. Kiah had still been in bed, snoring away, I was sure of it.

  I longed to give Kiah one of the trademark comebacks that I would have used on Nicole in a heartbeat. But then, I’d never actually been afraid that Nicole would hurt me the way Kiah had. I had also never been this outnumbered. Her friends slowly surrounded me, lowering their heads and eyeing me in a way that felt familiar in the worst way possible. I had to make a move now before something bad happened.

  I pushed my way between two of the smaller girls and mumbled, “Just leave me alone, all right?” I darted into the nearest alley, walking as quickly as I could, and then emerging onto a main street lined with cars.

  The temple was several stories high, and I’d hoped maybe I could see it from there, but all I could see were the tin roofs and columns of smoke rising from exhaust pipes. I was just about to pick a direction and go with it, when I heard a menacing growl right behind me.

  I spun around to find a pack of feral dogs, snarling and baring their long jagged teeth at me. One of them had a long scar across the top of its head where the hair had stopped growing. I knew that scar! These were the dogs that had attacked me last night.

  Are these dogs . . . Kiah’s friends? The dog with the scar snapped at me, my heart leaped into my throat, and I took off running. “Help!” I shouted as I ran. But no one else seemed to think my being chased by bloodthirsty dogs was any of their business. Was it possible that they couldn’t see them?

  As I ran, I desperately tried to place the landmarks. But everything was starting to look the same. And that river in the distance, had that been on my left or my right on the way to the apartment? Or had I seen it at all? I had no idea.

  What I did know was that the dogs were gaining on me. I stopped to swerve around a man pulling a rickshaw behind him, and one of the dogs took the opportunity to lunge at me. Its teeth caught the edge of my T-shirt and ripped right through it. The close call was enough to get me sprinting at top speed. I might not have been good enough for the tennis team, but if Coach Connolly could have seen me, she would have signed me up for track on the spot.

  The dogs stayed right on my tail, though. One of them even swiped at my foot as I ran, nearly tripping me. If I fell now, I would be done for.

  Finally I turned a corner onto Dadar Phool Gali. I remembered it instantly from when I was a kid. The street was filled with vendors selling every kind of flower I could imagine. The smell of yellow and orange marigolds hung heavily in the air, and there were people milling around everywhere, haggling with the vendors. Now’s my chance, I thought. There were so many scents here, maybe the dogs would find it too hard to pick out mine. All I had to do was find a place to hide until they gave up and went on their way.

  I burst through the crowd, vendors’ startled yells fading away as I cut through the throng, my black T-shirt and denim jeans standing out against the sea of red and purple saris. I passed stands selling roasting meat and balls of rice covered in thick syrup. The old women working the stands reached out to me, encouraging me to buy. Somewhere in the crowd I lost the dogs, but I kept moving, checking behind me every few minutes to see if they had caught up again. Finally an old man moved into my path, blocking my way. By then I was panting for breath and my legs were burning. I looked up at the man, and he flashed me a kind smile. I realized that he was holding out a cup to me, and I inhaled the delicious smell of vanilla chai. I was so thirsty, I almost grabbed the cup, but then I remembered that I had absolutely no money on me. I’d given it all away to the children. I backed away from him and turned my jeans pockets inside out so he could see what I had to offer—a whole lot of nothing. The man smiled serenely and pushed the cup into my hands.

  Just then I heard a vicious growl, and I knew—the dogs had found me. I turned and saw the members of the pack weaving through the crowd of people, never taking their eyes off me. Can anyone else see them? The fur on their backs stuck straight up, and as they got closer, their growls grew more intense, hungrier. But at the last moment the man who’d given me the tea slid between the dogs and me. He leaned over and growled back at them.

  Did he really just do that? For a moment I considered the possibility that I was suffering from heatstroke and was imagin
ing the whole thing. The man unleashed a torrent of Hindi on the dogs in a voice that sounded many years younger than he must have been. Even more amazing, at the man’s words the dogs whined and backed away, lowering their snouts and tucking their tails between their legs. They turned and scampered back into the maze of stalls, disappearing into the crowd.

  “How did you do that?” I cried, my eyes practically popping out of my head. “Thank you! You saved my life.” But the tea seller didn’t respond. He merely cleared his throat as if all he’d done was shoo away some pesky mosquitoes. Then he pressed his hands against mine and lifted the cup toward my mouth. He wanted me to drink the tea. “But I . . . I can’t pay you,” I said, willing him to understand me. “I have no money.”

  He nodded and pushed at the cup again. I did as he wanted, taking a slow sip of the delicious tea. “Thank you,” I said again, wishing I knew how to say that in Hindi.

  “Finish it,” he said suddenly. “It will give you sustenance.”

  “You speak English?” I exclaimed, unable to hide my surprise.

  “I speak many languages,” he answered. He waited for me to finish the tea and then took back the cup.

  I bowed low and said, “Thank you again. I owe you my life.”

  This time he said nothing, just inclined his head as if to say, You’re welcome, and watched me walk away. Right ahead of me I could see the temple I’d been searching for all day. I joined the line forming outside it, feeling that my luck was finally changing.

  But just before I entered the temple, I glanced back toward the tea seller’s stall. He remained there, watching me, his kind eyes filled with worry.

  chapter 11

  Ana

  THE DRIZZLE THAT HAD BEGUN when we’d gotten out of the cab had turned into a monsoon. At least it felt that way as the rain soaked every inch of clothes that weren’t covered by my raincoat. But just before midnight we reached our destination. On the other side of a low metal gate, Chichén Itzá rose steeply into the sky, rain battering its ancient steps.