Curse of the Ancients (4 page)

W
HILE EVERYONE
else was chanting to the Mayan rain deity, Chaac, Sera was quietly experiencing the most profound Remnant of her entire life. Her stomach was twisted in knots. She clenched her teeth and cringed at the familiar iron taste flooding her mouth. She felt so dizzy she had to plant both hands firmly on the dirt floor next to where she sat.

Dak and Riq were totally unaware. They’d just been taught the simple refrain and had joined the Mayas in their chanting. The man who called himself Itchik was the only one who seemed to notice Sera’s distress. Thankfully, he wasn’t calling attention to it.

Sera was all too familiar with Remnants — the feeling that something was missing, that if history had unfolded in a slightly different way she’d be living her real life instead of this shadow version. Back home, she’d often walk past her barn and suddenly be overwhelmed by the sense that her parents, who she’d never known, were inside, tending to a trio of beautiful Thoroughbreds. But when she pulled open the door, she’d find the barn completely empty.

Her Remnants had grown stronger since they started traveling through time, but this was by far the most powerful one she had experienced. She took deep, even breaths, wondering why now. During a storm. Surrounded by Mayas.

When the Remnant finally passed, Sera let out a relieved sigh and resumed halfheartedly mouthing the chant with everyone else. She noted how intensely the storm was hammering down on the roof above them, the sound echoing throughout the cavernous hut. She studied the worried look on all the faces around her. The storm was much more severe than she had thought it would be — though it was nothing compared to what she remembered of the Cataclysm.

After a few more minutes, Itchik raised a hand and the chanting ceased.

“Young visitors from a faraway place,” he said, “I would like to welcome you to our village and introduce you to my people.” He proceeded to rattle off several Mayan names that Sera knew she’d never remember — especially on the heels of such a powerful Remnant. There were three separate Mayan families, each with several children. There were a few stooped elders, too. The only name that stuck in Sera’s head was “Kisa,” the girl who was a few years older than Sera and very pretty.

Itchik turned to his people and said, “And this is Riq, Sera, and . . . I’m sorry, I don’t believe I ever learned the name of the smaller boy.”

“I’m not that small!” Dak fired back.

“It’s a pleasure meeting everyone,” Riq blurted out.

Sera leaned over to Dak and whispered, “Try to keep in mind that if it wasn’t for them, we’d be out there getting pummeled by this storm.”

Dak turned to Itchik. “The name’s Dak Smyth, sir dude.”

“Very good,” Itchik said. “My family and I would like to welcome all of you to our home.”

“Welcome,” everyone else said together.

One of the women unpacked a small stack of asymmetrical tortilla-looking things and passed them out to everyone. Sera didn’t realize how hungry she was until she started eating the corn-based bread.

Minutes later, there was a loud crashing sound on the roof, and everyone looked up. “What was that?” the girl named Kisa said.

“The storm still grows,” one of the elders explained. “Trees are now blowing over.”

Two small girls began to cry quietly and ducked under the arms of their mother.

“Don’t be scared,” the elder said. “Chaac is looking over us.”

Itchik turned to Sera, Dak, and Riq and said, “From where have you traveled, friends? You certainly don’t look like our neighbors to the north or south.” He paused for a second and pointed at Sera. “With the exception of the girl.”

“I’m definitely not your neighbor,” she snapped.

Riq shot her a look.

Sera shrugged. Even Riq would have to admit that associating her with the Maya didn’t make sense. And back in second grade, during a lesson on lost civilizations, stupid Sylvia Walker had drawn a stick figure of a girl sitting on top of a Mayan temple next to the caption
Sera’s great-great-great-grandmother.
The kids all laughed and asked if her mom packed a thermos full of goat blood in her lunch.

There was a reason Sera was so sensitive.

“Where are we from?” Dak echoed. He had a big grin on his face, which told Sera she should be extremely worried. “That’s an interesting question, Itchy.”

“Itchik,” Riq corrected.

Dak winked at Sera and Riq and turned back to the Mayan man.

“We come from a place far, far away. . . . I believe you know what I’m saying.”

“The remote highlands?” Itchik asked.

“Dak,” Sera said, shooting him a dirty look. “We’ve already discussed this —”

“Let me put it another way,” Dak said, ignoring her. “You know your fancy calendar?”

“Ah, one of the great achievements of our ancestors,” Itchik said.

“Yeah, well, we’ve just about made it to the end of that bad boy.”

Sera looked to Riq, who let his head fall into his hands.

Itchik was staring at Dak, a confused look on his face.

“Where do we come from?” Dak said. “Let’s just say it’s a place where people consider
these
things a little outdated.” He pointed down at his breechcloth.

“Seriously, Dak,” Sera tried again. “Drop it. Please.” Dak couldn’t seem to get it through his thick head that not everyone they met was going to be a Hystorian or Time Warden.

Dak only grinned at Sera and turned back to Itchik. “I’m talking about the future, Itchy. Where people drive cars and fly planes and eat tortillas that are actually symmetrical. Filled with grated cheese. I’m talking about quesadillas, my friend.”

Sera rolled her eyes. She glanced at Riq, who threw his hands in the air.

“I don’t understand what your friend is saying,” Itchik said, turning to them.

“Neither does he,” Sera answered. “Please, just ignore —”

“Do I really have to spell this thing out for everybody?” Dak interrupted. “You guys are
Hy-stor-i-ans
. And we’ve traveled here from the
fu-ture
. Go on, Sera. Show him the Infinity Ring again and explain how it works. Riq, pull the riddle up on the SQuare. I can’t believe I have to broker this whole thing myself.”

“What’s a Hystorian?” Kisa asked.

Everyone was staring at Dak, completely baffled, including Sera and Riq.

Even the smallest Mayan baby was staring at him.

The grin on Dak’s face slowly fell away and he turned to Sera. “Wait, is it possible that they’re not actually Hystorians?”

Before Sera could answer there was a second tremendous crashing sound from up above. Sera looked up and saw that the wooden slats were actually being pulled from the roof and carried away in the powerful winds. Rain started streaming down into the hut, scattering everyone. The children screamed, and their parents covered their small heads and hurried them to the far wall, away from the widening hole.

Sera, Dak, and Riq ran to the opposite corner.

“The storm is too vicious!” Riq shouted. “The entire roof will come down!”

Sera looked up. She saw more wood being torn away. Uneven chunks of rock came crashing down into the hut. “We can’t stay here!” she shouted. But when she tried to get up, Riq held her by the wrist.

“We need to stick together!” he shouted.

There was so much commotion inside the disintegrating hut, Sera couldn’t think. Rain poured down all around them. The wind howled. Children wailed. A thick tree branch fell from above, slamming into the earth only inches in front of Sera’s face.

“Watch out!” Dak suddenly shouted.

Sera thought he was shouting at her, but when she looked up she saw a little Mayan girl standing alone near the front door of the hut, crying, as that part of the wall started caving in. Before Sera could even think to move, Dak sprang to his feet and raced toward the girl. He shoved her out of harm’s way, toward her mom, just as the wall collapsed, cracking him in the back of the head and driving him into the ground.

“Dak!” Sera screamed.

She sprinted over to him, slid down to her knees, and lifted his face. He was trapped under the rubble of the stone wall, and his eyes were huge with fear. There was already blood caked in his hair, running in slick lines down his neck and shoulders.

“Dak!” she shouted again. “Dak, please! Can you hear me?”

“The observatory,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“The people writing inside,” he said, blinking his eyes and swallowing. “See them. It could be part of the riddle.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Sera pleaded.

Riq was beside them now, too.

“Stay with me, Dak!” Sera shouted. “Just stay with me!”

But Dak’s eyes slowly rolled into the back of his head.

He lost consciousness.

R
IQ STRAINED
to keep a tight grip under both of Dak’s arms as he helped carry him through the surging storm. Itchik and another man had his feet. He watched Sera hurrying alongside them, holding a blanket over Dak’s face so he wouldn’t drown in the falling rain. “Dak!” she kept shouting. “Can you hear me, Dak? It’s Sera! Please look at me, Dak!”

But Dak wasn’t looking at anyone.

He was out cold.

Riq had never seen anyone take such a nasty blow in his life.

As they moved past the temple, a sudden gust of wind knocked them all over into the mud. Riq and the two Mayan men scrambled to their feet, quickly lifting Dak back up and continuing away from the village, toward the hills on the outskirts of town. The women, children, and elders from the hut were several paces ahead already, holding on to one another, leaning into the teeth of the storm.

Riq winced as he slowly moved through the mud with Dak. His leg was killing him. He’d been struck in the knee by a falling board when the roof of the hut had collapsed. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on. But every time he thought of asking for a rest, he would picture Dak pushing that little girl out of the way, taking the brunt of the wall’s impact on his own head and back.

He’d saved her life.

Remembering this fact always gave Riq the shot of adrenaline he needed to fight through the pain and fatigue.

They carried Dak uphill over fallen trees, through knee-high puddles of rain, and across long stretches of quicksand-like mud. Eventually they approached the mouth of a large cave, where several Mayan warriors were perched on large boulders watching the storm.

Itchik shouted at the men, “Get Jasaw immediately! We must help this boy!”

Two of the warriors darted inside the cave. The rest leaped down from the boulders, into the rain, and helped carry Dak’s limp body up to the cave’s broad opening.

Riq was relieved of his grip on Dak once they got inside. He watched Itchik and the others carry Dak across the dimly lit cave, Sera trailing closely behind. It took Riq’s eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dull candlelight, but once he could see, he was taken aback. Several hundred Mayas were spread out on blankets across the uneven floor of the cave. Some were sleeping. Others were sitting together in small groups, chanting. A few turned to look him over.

A man wearing a headdress pointed the men carrying Dak toward a large hanging blanket, set up like a screen for privacy. Riq knew this must be the man Itchik had referred to as Jasaw, and he hurried to catch up. When he ducked behind the blanket, he saw the men lowering Dak onto a cot. There were other patients on cots nearby. Riq was relieved they’d made it out of the storm, to a place where Dak might get help, and only now did he reach down to massage his aching knee. When he brought his fingers back up to his face, he saw blood. The board had cut him.

Riq moved toward Dak’s cot, nodding to the men who had helped carry Dak as they left.

“Who are you anyway?” Sera was asking the man looking over Dak’s wounds.

“I am Jasaw,” he said without looking up. “The
ahmen
, medicine man, of our village. Your friend is very hurt.”

“And how do
you
know how hurt he is?” Sera said. “It’s not like you’re a real doctor.”

“What is ‘doctor’?” Jasaw said, looking up at her.

Riq placed his hand on Sera’s arm to try to calm her down. “How bad are his injuries?” he asked Jasaw.

The man turned his focus back to Dak and shook his head. He ran his hands lightly over Dak’s face and neck, and then left them hovering over his eyes, as if he was trying to read something through his palms. Then he leaned an ear against Dak’s chest. “Something has struck your friend on the head, yes?”

Riq and Sera both nodded.

“He is breathing normally, but I fear his brain may swell, which would be very bad.” Riq watched the man grind up several different kinds of herbs, stir them into a liquid that looked like wine, and drip some of the concoction onto Dak’s tongue. Then he rubbed his hands together and touched Dak’s head and back. “No broken bones,” he said.

“How do you know?” Sera said. “You don’t have an X-ray machine. You don’t have anything!”

“Sera,” Riq said. “He’s doing the best he can.”

“I have what I need,” Jasaw said.

Sera turned to Riq. “We have to get him to a hospital. Now.” Riq could see the fear flickering in Sera’s eyes.