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Adam began to feel the distinct beginnings of a headache. “Fair enough. Anything else I should know?”

Charlie gave his cigarette an irritated flick.

“The professor acts like he’s in charge, but everybody knows Jacobs is the real boss,” he said. “Jacobs does all the work, while the professor sits around and reads those books he brought with him. He’s got a real fire lit under his feet about finding some big thing when they reach the city.”

Adam frowned.

“Some big thing like what?” he asked.

“What do I know?” Charlie took another drag, tapping his foot. “I’m just the help.”

Beingjust the helpgave Charlie the chance to quietly soak up every bit of useful information from what was going on around him. There was a reason Belize Town’s nascent anti-imperialist movement had quickly recruited Charlie into its ranks. He was very good at noticing things.

Not that this particular piece of information was all that enlightening. It only made things even more confusing. Adam fought against his own exasperation.

“How can he be after something at the end of this trail when we have no idea what the hell we’re going to find there?” he protested.

“You tell him about the crazy candle?” Lessard demanded, looking to Charlie.

“What candle?” Adam asked.

Charlie rolled his eyes a bit.

“You tell him about the candle,” he shot back. “You’re the crazy Frenchman saw it.”

“It was in the professor’s cabin on the boats—all of a sudden this light blazing out the windows like somebody lit up a bonfire,” Lessard filled in with obvious relish. “And then—pffft!—it goes out.”

“That’s… odd,” Adam commented, trying not to sound too skeptical.

“Bah, what do you know? The whole room was glowing like a comet, and not so much as a piece of charcoal the next morning.” Lessard emphasized the point with another hock of tobacco spit.

“Here comes Staines.” Charlie nodded across the camp to where Adam’s bodyguard trudged toward them, looking even more grumpy than he had when he’d left. “Looks like he figured out nobody wants him.”

Lessard let out a wicked chuckle.

“That’s a good one, Charlie,” he said happily.

“Keep your head on, bali,” Charlie finished with a pointed look at Adam. He flicked away the butt of his cigarette, crushed it under his boot, and moved away.

“Try not to get yourself shot,” Lessard added with another slightly terrifying grin before following after him.

?

Twenty-Seven

As the day shiftedtoward afternoon, Ellie adjusted her position on the mule and thought about how much her rear end hurt.

She would have preferred to simply walk with the caravan as it set out from the riverbank toward the mountains—but when she’d started to protest, Mendez had barked at Flowers, who then picked her up and plopped her down on the beast.

Ellie had been jolting along on the animal now for the better part of the day. Muscles she didn’t know she had were starting to ache. Ellie was a Londoner. She’d never been on a horse in her life. She was sure that a mule was significantly less comfortable.

The environment around her had changed as they wove their way higher into the mountains. The surrounding trees turned from lush hardwoods to soaring Caribbean pines. Despite the increase in altitude, the air was still hot. Plenty of mosquitoes buzzed around. Ellie slapped at one and thought longingly of the tub of salve in Adam’s rucksack. The bag holding their few supplies was likely shoved into one of the myriad bundles that hung to either side of the mules.

The wilderness through which they passed was oddly quiet. When Ellie had hiked through the lower forests with Adam, the air had been alive with bird calls and the movements of both large and small animals. Perhaps those sounds were conspicuously absent here because she was traveling with such a large, groaning mass of men and mules. Still, the difference was stark enough that when the odd rodent did startle out of the brush, it surprised her.

Ellie had been keeping a careful eye on the landscape. Though she hadn’t specialized in geology, the shape of the hills suggested more karst geography—limestone bedrock that might be riddled with caves like the one they had passed through on the way here.

Another cave could be useful. If Ellie did see one, perhaps she could drive her mule into it and flee deep enough to conceal herself before anyone could come after her. Caves were also excellent sources of both bat guano and sulfur. If a university-educated woman with a knack for chemistry combined refined bat guano and sulfur with charcoal from one of the fires in the right quantities, she might find herself with a substance approximating black powder.