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“We’ll come by tomorrow to see what’s being unearthed, if that’s okay,” Remi said.
“It would be my pleasure.”
They followed the last of the straggling tourists down the Avenue of the Dead, moving toward the entry gates on automatic pilot. Remi and Lazlo were quiet on the way back to the motel.
The next morning Lazlo, Remi, and Sam rode an INAH-supplied golf cart toward the Pyramid of the Moon. Antonio’s SUV was parked near the research tent that was being erected by a sleepy crew. When they approached, he was giving an orientation to a group of earnest-looking students. Maribela stood at the edge of the gathering and her eyes brightened when she saw them roll up.
“Hola! You’re here early,” she called out as she walked over to them, her stride as fluid as a dancer’s.
“We wanted to get a second look at what we found,” Sam explained.
“Very good. We’re just going over the protocols with the team. We’ve been assigned a dozen helpers. We want to ensure we don’t harm anything as we document the contents of the crypt.”
“We’d like to spend some time inside, photographing everything as it was found before it all gets shifted around.”
“Of course. Come this way and I’ll get you some gloves and brushes in case you spot anything you want to clean off.”
“Thank you, but we’re mostly interested in the carvings. We’re hoping to find something that will shed some light on why Quetzalcoatl was described in a number of accounts as a tall, bearded white man. The mummy is anything but . . .”
“Ah, yes, the legends,” Maribela said.
“It never hurts to be thorough,” Remi said, her voice even, her tone firm.
Lazlo sensed a rising tension between the two women and moved quickly to diffuse it.
“How much longer before your brother’s done with the lads?” he asked Maribela.
“He’s been at it for fifteen minutes, so I think he’ll be finishing up pretty soon.”
Antonio joined them once he wound down his orientation and greeted them like visiting royalty.
“There they are! Come to celebrate?”
“We wanted to get photos of the find before everyone really gets to work.”
Sam glanced at the six soldiers standing in a loose ring at the site perimeter, their M4 rifles hanging from shoulder straps, not one of them more than nineteen.
“I see you’ve got the big guns in. Literally.”
“It wouldn’t do to have Quetzalcoatl’s treasure walk off, would it?”
The day went by in a blur of photographs and dusting of carvings to get all the detail. Sam finally came up for air, done with the crypt. Remi joined him under the tarp, where Lazlo was methodically poring over the photographs on the big monitor with rapt concentration, seemingly oblivious to the noise around him.
“Did you get everything you wanted?” Sam asked.
“I think so, although I was struck by the same sensation I had yesterday. Not much of a treasure, really, compared to some.”
“The Toltecs probably weren’t a rich people.”
“True. But the legend just seems so overblown compared to what’s down there,” Remi said, her fingers brushing her gold scarab. “Maybe it’s just my lucky charm sending out skeptical vibes.”
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“I’d say it’s been pretty lucky so far. Still, vibes or no vibes, I’d count it as a win. We solved another of history’s riddles. Not a bad day’s work.” Sam glanced at Lazlo. “You about ready to pack it in, Lazlo?”
Lazlo seemed only then to register them. “We’re missing something. I don’t know what, but we are.”
“I start to get worried when you and Remi agree on so much,” Sam joked. “But, come on, it’s been a long day. The photos will still be there tomorrow and your eyes must be burning out of your head by now. You hungry, Remi?”