Page 11

He nodded, tipping her chin. “Many of my order have been gathering in Washington, DC, to witness its fall. Roth has turned on me. I know he is there. He thinks he is safe. Just as Cortés had Moctezuma murdered, so will I do the same unto their leader. As the prophecy said, and none can deliver them. The American president has been meeting with his cabinet because of the pandemic. On Friday, every member will be in the room. All at the same time.”
“How do you know this?” Angélica asked.
“I have someone who used to be a college student like you”—he stroked her chin—“someone who works in that false temple. I know about the meeting. I know where it will be held. And that is when I will take him. I will bring him to our lands to execute him, to cut out his heart and throw his body down the temple steps.”
“And the other jaguar priests?” she asked.
“They are taking their places now to abduct the other leaders. One day. One strike. First we unleashed the plague on the world’s unsuspecting populace. Now we take out their beating heart to show them we mean to rule once again. The new capital of the world will be the Jaguar Temple in Calakmul.”
CHAPTER FIVE
JAGUAR TEMPLE
CALAKMUL BIOSPHERE RESERVE
January 8
Sweat stung Suki’s eyes. It ran down her ribs and trickled down her legs. She hated sweating. But what was even worse was the suspicion that if any of the balls dropped, she would die.
It was surreal actually. Weeks ago, she’d been stressing out about being the stage manager for the high school musical, a role that was almost entirely behind a curtain and out of sight of the audience. Now she was in the middle of a forsaken jungle with no internet, wild animals that would try to kill her if she managed to escape the huge temple complex, and a crazy lady who was forcing her to levitate heavy rubber balls and spin them around the arena all while yelling at her in ancient Mayan.
At least Yoda hadn’t yelled at Luke Skywalker. Or whipped him with a reed.
Suki hadn’t practiced the Maya magic in Bozeman—mostly because she had still been afraid of it—until that night at Brice’s house. She’d certainly never imagined pushing herself this hard. The balls used in the death game each weighed about four pounds. She wasn’t lifting them with her arms, of course, but lifting them with her mind was real work. The strain and stress of trying to keep five of them orbiting the game court in the ruins simultaneously was . . . totally wrecking her.
The crazy old lady walked around her, speaking in K’iche’, one of the native tongues of the ancient Maya. Magic allowed Suki to understand what was said, but she struggled to speak the language herself. She’d thought learning Spanish was tough. Mayan was freakishly impossible. Yet every day she learned a few more words that she used to communicate with the servants who lived at the site of the ancient temple.
“You must focus! Up! Up! Keep them higher!”
Suki’s internal conflict had caused two of the five balls to lose momentum, and they’d started wobbling out of orbit. It took so much concentration! And maybe that was the point of the exercise. To train someone from Gen Z how to stick with a single thought for a long time.
“I’m trying,” Suki panted, willing the errant orbs back into the pattern.
The old crone didn’t speak English. She glared at Suki, circling around behind her. Sometimes she’d whack that reed stick of hers against Suki’s legs. It hurt. A lot. But there was no denying the threat of pain urged her to keep things going.
The sun was nearly down. It amazed Suki how every structure at the temple compound had been erected to follow the seasons and the rising and setting of the sun and other celestial bodies. The orientation of the ball court was aligned with the heavens. When she and her family had been tricked into the death game just over a year ago, they’d only spent a few days at the Jaguar Temple. Now that Suki had been there for almost two weeks, she knew the compound a lot better. She’d been able to explore a bit and marveled at the vastness of the hidden temple.
The place where Jacob Calakmul ruled supreme.
The thought of him made her shudder. He’d tasked the crone with testing what Suki could do with the kem äm—the ancient Maya magic that made the city glow at night, provided a barrier like a force field against the jungle, enabled her to make rubber balls scoot without touching them, and so much more.
He’d urged the crone to try to break Suki. To see how deeply and quickly she could learn the magic. If Suki were no longer useful, she imagined she’d end up on the sacrificial altar getting open heart surgery for free.
“Do you see it? Do you see the evening star?”
Suki was facing west. And there, just over the tree line of the jungle, she glimpsed it. The Maya called it the morning and evening star, but it was really the planet Venus.
“Je’,” Suki answered. That was K’iche’ for yes. She’d picked that up on the first day.
“See it? Now pull it.”
Had she understood correctly? Pull it? As in . . . pull on the planet?
“Jek’?” Suki asked.
“Jik’. Jik’ uxlab.” The crone insisted. Like tugging someone’s hand? But with the breath? That made even less sense.
“Jik’ uxlab?” Suki repeated.