Page 66

“Moyirik!” Jacob shouted at him, and Uacmitun’s eyes went milky white with blindness. Kukulkán healed infirmities. His brother caused them.
Uacmitun’s prime physique was trembling with weakness. The sword seemed too heavy for him. He was gasping for breath, turning one way, then another, confused by his sudden inability to see.
“Salabataj!” Jacob invoked the word that would dislocate his enemy’s shoulder. The pain made Uacmitun shriek in agony, and the blade landed on the stone floor with a thud.
“Kill me!” Uacmitun pleaded in despair. “Kill me, Great One! You are invincible!”
“Memarik,” Jacob shot back, depriving the man of his ability to speak. Uacmitun began to choke until he gasped. He sank to his knees, head bent low, exposing his neck for the killing blow.
It did not come. Jacob called out for his servants, and they hurried in. “Take him to the arena,” he ordered in their tongue. “Chain him there for all to see.”
The feelings of rage and power had begun to shrink. This was not a fight to the death like the one he’d had with his own father. A fight between equals. Uacmitun wasn’t a worthy foe. But making an example of him would instill fear in the others.
After the servants had dragged the two bodies away, Jacob turned to the bed. Angélica was starting to twitch. He knelt near her, stroking the hair from her face.
Tears were in her eyes.
He kissed her mouth and tasted a salty drop on his tongue.
Her body continued to convulse as the toxin wore off. There were so many plants within the jungles of the Yucatán. Some with healing properties that could cure cancer. Some that would remove fevers and sicknesses. The ancient Maya knew their efficacy from Kukulkán, but that knowledge had mostly been lost, burned by the Spanish priests out of fear and superstition. But the Order of the Jaguar Priests had their own records. Their own ways of remembering the past.
“I was . . . so afraid,” Angélica whispered when she finally regained the ability to speak.
“That I would kill you in a blind rage?” he asked, smiling. He kissed the tip of her nose.
She nodded, shuddering, her arms coming up and wrapping around him. She was trembling still. The violence of their plan had never sat well with her on a personal level. In theory, she agreed with him, but her heart was soft. And now violence had been visited on her directly.
He comforted her with kisses.
“He . . . he . . .”
“Hush,” Jacob said soothingly. “When we returned from Montana, he saw that we were both younger. He realized you knew the secret of Aztlán. The secret of eternal youth. He lost his mind with the lust for that knowledge. And for you.”
Lust was a powerful seducer. It could make the wisest into fools. Jacob had seen it growing inside his warrior chief. He was used to getting his pick of the servants. He’d wanted Angélica from the beginning because she was forbidden.
Hadn’t Saint Augustine said it so well? “Lord, give me chastity. But not yet.”
Angélica swallowed, then said, “He . . . he always looked at me . . .”
“I know. One cannot help but gaze at the beauty of the sun. But you are mine. My Malintzin. You taught me how to defeat the West. How to twist their pride and greed against them. And you will bear me a son, one we will teach in our ways. One who will rule the world after us.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SMITHSONIAN NATIONAL MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY
WASHINGTON, DC
January 10
Roth leaned back in the chair, rubbing his forehead. He’d decided to fully cooperate with the authorities, no further incentives or guarantees needed. They’d been shocked to learn about his secret book—and that it was no longer such a secret—but their annoyance was blunted by the flood of e-mails he received, some of which contained further information about Calakmul’s operation. His editor was pretty upset too, and not just about the right of first offer clause he’d violated by publishing. He hadn’t been able to talk to her about what had happened to his family yet, and she was just learning about it. All this had also accelerated the FBI’s timetable for reaching out to the McKintys about Jane Louise and what had really happened to her family.
Since nothing could be gained by staying silent, Roth had also given the authorities the names of every person he’d seen watching the death game. The FBI were now opening investigations into all of them. The information had been so vital, so shocking, that when Director Wright had communicated some of it to the president, he’d asked to meet with Roth and his family in person. That meant it was time to reunite with the boys and get to a better safe haven, a military base like Quantico. His burner phone buzzed in his pocket, and he reached for it, expecting to see Lund or Suki calling.
It was Jordan.
“Hey, where are you and the boys?” Roth asked. “I was just about to—”
From the receiver, he could hear traffic and wind. “He found us.”