Elixir of Life: A Novella (A Hank Boyd Adventure - Book 4) (The Hank Boyd Adventures)

by Matthew James

  “Oh,” he says, carefully looking over each stair, “I thought I told you.”

  “Told us what?” Nando asks, retying his ponytail.

  “El Castillo… I designed it.”

  “You?” Nando asks, choking on his own air.

  “Yes,” Rand replies like it was old news. Ancient news, really. “The people here called me ‘The Great Architect’ but it’s not the only thing I created.”

  “We need to hurry, Rand,” Nicole says, peeking out of the now gateless doorway.

  Rand’s other accomplishments are digging at my brain and my love for history and mythology get the better of me. “What else did you build?” I need to know.

  “Tales, Hank. I was a master of the art of storytelling.”

  I lift an eyebrow in confusion. “You were a fiction writer?”

  He nods not looking at me as he continues running his hand over the surface of every stair. “Where are you…”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Huh?” He looks at me unsure of what I was asking.

  “Never mind,” I say, glancing at Nando who just shrugs, “please continue.”

  “But yes, in a way I was an author of sorts. When I left An’tala—years before its destruction—Thoth charged me with recording our kingdom’s history, including relaying those events to the people in the outside world.”

  A light bulb goes off in my head. “The story of Thoth and him being from a kingdom to the west. That was you?”

  He smiles.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” I ask, shocked. “Ancient Egypt—one of the most powerful and influential civilizations ever… They based their entire existence on a story you formulated from thin air?”

  He thinks for a moment but nods. “Pretty much. Only, it wasn’t like I came up with it overnight. It took several weeks at least—maybe a whole month—to come up with it. All the gods and the purpose of each one was the hardest part. I based many of them on people I knew.”

  I just laugh and rub my face, wiping the sweat from it on my jeans. Everything I grew up loving about Egypt—and probably Greece and Rome—was all because of one man’s tall tale. But does that mean it's false?

  “You’re the world’s greatest bullshiter.”

  He turns. “Not all of it was lies, Hank. Although, I did have to spice a few of them up a bit to convince the savages of the region I was truthful. I mean, can you imagine what it would be like to learn about a race of immortal beings living on an island kingdom and—” He stops when he sees me looking at him. “Oh, right… You already did.”

  “Anything else you’d like to share before we die?” Nicole asks from the foot of the stairs. “Like why an Atlantean bounty hunter is after you.”

  He stops again. “Has anyone heard of Herodotus?”

  “Ja,” Nicole replies, “he was a famous Greek historian, except many found his stories to be farfetched and outlandish. They ridiculed him until—” She meets his eyes, taking a few steps up to us in the process. “You’re him, aren’t you? You’re Herodotus.”

  Rand does his best bow while kneeling in the grime of the tunnel.

  Nicole’s eyes narrow. “But Herodotus was also known as ‘The Father of Lies.’”

  His beaming grin turns into a frown and he turns back to his search for a hidden shaft. “Well, at least my false persona has survived into the modern world… Good.”

  “Why is that good?” Nando asks. “I thought being called a liar was a bad thing.”

  “It is when you’re trying to tell the truth. I was only trying to stir the pot, if you will, and keep the hounds off my back. I needed my pursuers to stay busy looking for false clues. I implanted lies within the truths, never fully telling one or the other.”

  “Herodotus,” I say, thinking aloud. “Didn’t he—you—come up with…”

  “What is it, Hank?” Nicole asks, worried.

  I take off my hat and rub my forehead, smearing a fresh coat of dust on my face and in my hair. “Don’t you remember what Herodotus was most famous for?”

  She shakes her head. “Greek history wasn’t my expertise. I only remember some of the names.”

  I look at Rand. “Your invulnerability—the Elixir of Life.”

  “Elixir of Life?” Nando asks.

  As he asks, Nicole’s eyes light up and she looks at me and then Rand. Her expression is one of utter shock. It’s probably similar to mine if I could see it.

  “You know it by another name, Nando,” I say, eyes wide.

  “And what name is that?” he asks, stepping closer.

  “The Elixir of Life is also known as the Fountain of Youth.”

  7

  Chichen Itza, Yucatan

  Gerard approached the northern stairs slowly, wary of an attack from around the corner. He knew he couldn’t be killed easily, but the time it took to recover from an attack would be all his quarry needed to escape and disappear. Sniffing the air, he found the scent odd and void of life. Instead, he only smelled age and earth. It smelled like the underground world—natural. A soft breeze buffeted him and its direction made it even more difficult to track his prey.

  So, he would rely on his other senses and concentrated on his hearing, his ears quickly perking up at the sound of muttering voices. They were severely muffled, but nonetheless, sounded close. Stepping silently forward, he noticed an aberration in the wall beneath the western side of the staircase.

  Interesting, he thought, seeing the opening. He inhaled deeply and growled as he found only one scent on the mangled metal gate, the Architect: Rand Intari. His blood pumped differently than the others, as it should. He was of mostly inhuman biology.

  Like me.

  While they looked human, the people of An’tala were anything but. Gerard knew little about their bloodline’s origin, no one except the king did, and for whatever reason, Thoth kept it to himself. He hid a lot from his people, in fact.

  Nannot and Coaxoch’s original treachery.

  Their four children, the Judges.

  Their races’ origin—Thoth’s origin.

  And, of course, the Elixir of Life.

  It was the main reason why half of the council revolted against him that night in the gallery. When the wanting of forcefully spreading their culture was denied, part of the Order moved their discussions underground, plotting against their ruler. They would either take An’tala for themselves or leave and do the same to the land surrounding their empire.

  Only, neither ever came to be.

  Once the island was leveled by Nannot, the people of An’tala dispersed into the outside world, scattered and weak. Most of the citizens wanted to live in peace, blissfully unaware of the friction within the An’tala’s hierarchy.

  But Thoth explicitly trusted Rand… Why?

  Gerard knew that Rand was charged with keeping the Elixir safe and out of sight. There were rumors of its unmatched power swirling around the kingdom as it was. Some said it could level mountains, while others said it was an exact replica to Thoth’s original formula, the one he developed all those years before An’tala’s birth.

  Rand did such a great job, in fact, that no one outside of him and Thoth knew what the Elixir really was. The legends Rand spread throughout the centuries made it out to be a well or some other natural water source. Bathing in the liquid, or in some cases, drinking it, would supposedly give the person everlasting life, or at the very least, a more youthful one. Some even said it would increase your strength and stamina tenfold. Yes, it seemed every major culture had their own version of what would eventually be called the “Fountain of Youth.”

  Ponce de Leon made it famous during his search in Florida during the 16th century. Due to a possible confusion in translations, or just a misinterpretation of the legend in general, de Leon wound up in the Bahamas and Florida instead of where the region’s legend originated with the Mayan people in Central America.

  Could it be? Gerard thought to himself as he stepped forward again, hearing an uptick in the voice
s. From where he was positioned, it sounded like they found something important within the alcove.

  He’d been tracking Rand’s movements for years, following him to the Americas over forty years ago. In his findings, Gerard discovered that a cenote was recently found beneath El Castillo. The first thing he thought when reading up on the article was that the cenote was the location of the Elixir. It would be a perfect hiding spot, buried beneath one of the Yucatan’s most sacred of archaeological sites, preserved foreverby UNESCO, The United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization.

  Maybe…

  “Over here!” a voice shouted.

  “I found it!” another yelled.

  “Get ready to move,” a third said.

  Yes, get ready, Gerard thought, preparing to attack.

  He made his move, leaping into the quaint entry room that also doubled as an early Mesoamerican temple. He was immediately met with gunfire as three of the people opened up on him in the tight confines of the alcove’s entrance. While every impact stung and seared with pain, Gerard knew the discomfort would quickly subside. He needed to act fast, while his target was so close. He would kill the others and take Rand. His instructions were to bring the man in alive but they never said how alive he needed to be.

  He turned into the gunfire and watched as a local man with long hair dove headfirst down a small passage within the stairs.

  “Go, Hank!” Rand shouted stepping forward.

  The other man, Hank, grabbed the woman next to him and likewise disappeared into the hidden tunnel, clipping the edge as he fell. Breathing heavily as the last of the wounds healed over, Gerard faced his long-sought prize.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Gerard,” Rand said, “but I must bid you adieu.” Then like a magician’s illusion, he stepped back and disappeared into the vertical tunnel shaft, slapping it as he did.

  Gerard leapt and snapped his jaws shut on empty air. As soon as Rand made contact the staircase, it quickly slid shut and hissed, re-pressurizing. Then, something incredible happened. The bottom edge of the step, melted and sealed, adhering to the solid stone around it.

  Roaring in anger, Gerard swept at the stairs, turning back into his human form as he did. Every slash eventually became the pounding of fists as he dented the stone, looking for a seam that didn’t exist. His next strike gave him pause, though, landing with a resounding gong. He knelt and felt the dense step, seeing that it wasn’t entirely made of stone.

  “Orichalcum,” he said, frustrated. If he knew Rand as well as he knew he did, Gerard suspected that it would be impossible to break through without Rand himself to open it. He had proven to be elusive and this wasn’t surprising in the least. Disappointing, but not surprising. Rand always had a way with the alloy from the beginning, being able to manipulate it with ease.

  Another of his secrets.

  Gerard’s hunt would have to continue another time.

  * * *

  “Shiiit!” I yell, sliding headfirst down a steep, pitch-dark tube. It reminds me of a waterless waterslide and thankfully the stone making up the tight fit is extremely smooth and slick, coated in a humid wetness. It’s like the classic movie scene where someone, hero or not, climbs into the air duct of a building and inevitably ends up plummeting downward at a high rate of speed.

  I prop myself up on my elbows and ignore the slight scraping they’re taking. I close my eyes and wait to smash to pieces, but the condensation gives me hope that there’s water at the end of this ride and not jagged stone.

  Yes…let’s hope.

  Shouts ahead of me says that Nicole and Nando are still with me, and the grinding sound behind me tells me that Rand is too. But what of Gerard?

  Twin screams startle me, especially Nicole’s which climbs to a pitch and volume I’ve never heard come from the woman. She rarely gets worked up enough to shriek like a banshee. And no, I’m not going to make an “except in the sheets” joke.

  Before I can fully comprehend what happened to her and Nando, my body leaves the shaft like it was shot out of a cannon. I likewise yelp in fright and cover my head with my arms. Is this how it ends, splattered beneath El Castillo? I free fall for a couple of seconds and…plunge headfirst into a chilled body of water. If there was any denying the cenote’s existence, I can personally tell you you’re wrong. It’s most definitely here, underneath the pyramid’s foundation.

  And thank God it is...

  A splash to my left announces the arrival of Rand and he quickly surfaces, wading closer to me. I can hear Nicole and Nando somewhere in front of me but it’s so dark I can’t get a visual. I reach up and hold my index finger over the right temple arm of my glasses, activating their night vision feature. I know I can just vocalize the specs to do so, but I’m used to doing it manually.

  As they come to life I see Nicole only a few feet in front of me, smiling. She must’ve done the same thing and sees me also smiling. We’re alive… Quietly, she swims over to me and kisses my hard on the lips. Playfully, I stop kicking and sink beneath the surface, getting a smile out of her as she hauls me back up.

  “I still have that effect on you I see,” she says, biting her lip.

  “You know it.”

  “Um, hello?” Nando says, killing the moment.

  “Right temple arm, Nando,” I instruct. “Hold it for two seconds.”

  I watch as he begins to look around, seeing us. “Very nice, thanks.”

  I nod and face Rand who is staring right at me. “Are you okay?” I ask. “Can you see?”

  He smiles, his eyes illuminating a little. “Better than you know.”

  “So,” Nando says, “does anyone know where we are exactly?”

  “Besides the obvious…” I reply, looking around, “no.”

  “Follow me, please,” Rand says, kicking for the nearest bank.

  I make my way next and take in the space around me. Like most other cenotes, this one looks like you’d expect. They’re essentially sinkholes that have filled with water and just like the Sacred Cenote here in Chichen Itza, this one has high walls on every side, making it look like a high-walled bowl. Except, unlike the other cenote, which is open to the sky above, this one is using a Mesoamerican step-pyramid for a lid.

  But in contrast to the high-volume tourist attraction, this one is in pristine condition, with noticeably little, if any, foot traffic. It’s also abundantly clear that Rand has been here before too. The fact that he knew where to look for the entry shaft says as much. Just knowing about it is proof enough. He may have even been the one to first discover the cenote and lay the groundwork for the pyramid’s construction atop it.

  But why?

  “This is incredible,” Nando says from behind, his whispered voice echoing around us. “It’s not as big as the one we have here, but still, it’s been beautifully preserved.”

  “Thankfully, yes it has,” Rand says, reaching up to the first ledge he can. Instead of simply pulling himself up, he just grips the outcrop of rock and yanks his entire body out of the water like a launching dolphin, landing with ease on his feet.

  “Nice style points,” I say, motioning for him to help me up. He does and easy lifts me out of the water, doing the same for Nicole and Nando next.

  “So,” I say, my body involuntarily shivering, “what’s the story with this place?” Damn, it’s cold. “Why are you so thankful that no one’s been here?”

  He runs his hand through his hair, wringing it out some and shakes the excess water from his body. “Come…let me show you.”

  “What about the false stair?” Nicole asks as Rand leads us around the edge of the cenote.

  “Orichalcum base, I bet you,” I say, seeing Rand nod his head.

  “Very good, Hank. Through some tinkering, I’ve been able to infuse the metal into stone and then use my abilities to manipulate it when others can’t.”

  “How long ago did you install it?” Nando asks, retying his wild, soaking-wet hair again.

  “Shortl
y after we first accessed the inner temple.”

  “What?” Nando asks. “You were a part of the original archaeological team back in the thirties?”

  He nods. “Like I said, I’ve lived many lives.”

  Nando stops, getting us to as well. “What of the child the day Gerard attacked you?”

  “Child?” I ask.

  “I honestly didn’t think anything of it until now,” Nando explains. “After he disappeared into the crowd, I saw a young boy with the same striking eyes as his.”

  I turn back to Rand and wait for his answer.

  But instead of an answer, I get a magic show.

  He calmly steps up to Nicole and looks her over, his eyes dancing around, taking in as much of her as he can.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  He bends over a little, his face now uncomfortably close to my fiancé’s face, but again stands like nothing odd just occurred. He glances at me. “This is how.”

  He closes his eyes and I watch as the veins in his neck and face bulge and quickly relax. Then, all kinds of weird starts to happen. The bones in his face flex, crack, and realign, as does the rest of his body. As this transpires, his expensive silk shirt, along with the rest of his clothes, start to morph into an exact replica of… No way. His short-sleeved shirt shrinks into a skin-tight tank top and his baggy khaki shorts change into a more hip-hugging variety. Even his pristine boat shoes become a familiar, well-worn pair of hiking boots.

  “Holy hell,” I say, stepping back. “It’s you!” But I’m not looking at Rand when I say that, I’m looking at Nicole—who is looking at an exact duplicate of herself.

  He/she holds his/her hands out wide and smiles. “This is how I have survived Hank.” My mouth hangs open. Even his voice is hers, including her sharp Swedish inflection.

  Nando is speechless, as is Nicole. I take a step towards him and then turn to Nicole. Then, I turn back to Rand. “This is unbelievable.” He shrugs and closes his eyes, but not before checking himself out a little. Nicole’s eyes roll for what must be the tenth time today. He grins at her and closes his eyes. Veins all through his exposed shoulders, arms, and legs bulge and his bones crack and reform back into his regular self.