Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Mystic
I was alone in the giant bed when I woke up the next morning.
The thick curtains were drawn over the wall of glass, telling me my Monster had come back at some point during the night.
But where was he now, and where had he slept?
The shower turned on in the bathroom, and I rolled onto my back to stare at the ceiling.
I could do this. I could pretend our increased intimacy did not affect me, that I knew the score and wasn’t expecting him to be someone he wasn’t.
I let out a shaky breath. I would need to practice those thoughts a few more times before they stuck.
Since I had already showered the night before, I put on a different sundress, grabbed my sad book, put my feet up on the other chair, and was out on the balcony soaking in the salt air when he joined me.
He wore a simple pair of khaki shorts topped by a white linen shirt I bought him a few weeks ago. The white looked good against his dark skin. I examined his attire before getting up the nerve to meet his eyes. He gave me a calm smile before turning to the ocean.
“Have you ever lived by the sea, Corvus?”
“Yes, I used to live pretty close.” But those thoughts took me back to my childhood, which I enjoyed thinking about even less than Darryl. “But I haven’t been back in over ten years. I’m sure it has changed.”
“Yes, the coasts are getting increasingly crowded.” And he preferred a solitary mountaintop with the long-lost love of his life.
“Did you discover anything last night, or was it just a fun flight?” Or were you trying to get away from me?
“I believe I located some of my enemies’ spies.
There were several groups of people searching the hotels.
They tracked us because our flight originated in Tennessee, which we expected.
I believe they bought our ruse. We should come back tonight and continue our honeymoon act.
Perhaps we can allow them to come close, especially now that you are comfortable with me physically. ”
Well, at least now I knew why he decided to sleep with me last night. “Okay.” I wondered if he could sense my internal eye roll.
“Shall we eat breakfast and go visit my friend afterward?”
“Fine.”
We were quiet through breakfast, although my companion seemed to greatly enjoy himself.
I pretended to be unaffected, blending in with the many hungover breakfasters around us, even though I felt fine physically.
I wasn’t rude. Whenever he asked me something, I answered agreeably, but unlike my regular self, they were mainly one-word answers.
“Corvus, what’s on your mind?” he asked, pushing his plate away after finishing a healthy portion of chilaquiles.
“Nothing,” I answered, picking at my still-full plate of yesterday’s tortillas combined with eggs and salsa. “Or don’t you already know?”
“I learned early on to stay out of my lovers’ heads.”
I looked up at him in surprise. He held out his hand. Unsure of what he wanted, I gave him my own. He tugged until I stood from my chair and let him pull me into his lap. Hand sneaking under my shirt, he held me close and kissed me.
I enjoyed our joining last night, Corvus.
Good. So did I.
I hope we will continue to be lovers for a long time.
I kissed him with more enthusiasm, but it wasn’t just due to his words, although the meaning still rushed over me like a cool shower on a hot, midsummer day. Whenever I got close to him, I wanted to cave to the attraction between us. And once we were touching, it was exponentially harder.
Me too.
He pulled away and looked into my eyes. “Good. Finish your breakfast. You will enjoy meeting my friend.”
An hour later, we were on the road. Since Camazotz was used to driving the Stag’s Jeep, I rented a similar model for our trip.
The sky above was clear and blue, so we took off the ragtop and headed into the jungle.
He warned me ahead of time it would be a long, bumpy ride, since the road conditions would be questionable.
But other than the heat, which was sweltering, and the dust from the dirt road, I didn’t mind.
When the bumps got too uncomfortable, I stood in my seat, arms hanging over the frame of the Jeep, knees absorbing some of the jolting, and the wind in my hair.
We didn’t talk much. We couldn’t speak out loud without yelling, and there wasn’t much silent conversation.
We both had a lot to consider. Since he had eased me out of my funk, I bent my thoughts toward what I had learned since arriving.
My Monster’s enemies were serious enough to hire surveillance.
That worried me. We discussed flying from a different airport or using different names on the leg between Knoxville and Atlanta, but had decided against it.
The more we complicated our plan, the easier it would be to unravel.
There was no reason for anyone to recognize our names, especially since we had just made them up.
Unless the person who prepared the fake documents gave us up, but that would present a whole other set of problems. Hopefully, that had not happened, and all we had to do was continue selling our fake personas.
Because I was enjoying my role a little too much.
In fact, I needed to get over my crush and get serious about helping him survive.
The books he had ordered had given me a lot of background on the Mayan people, but he didn’t explain much about what to expect from the summit, only that his life was in danger.
When pushed, he told me he didn’t want to limit my thinking.
Since the Mayan people had assimilated into the local modern culture, their ancient habits were not as relevant to current-day conditions in the Yucatan Peninsula.
However, the gods they had worshipped greatly influenced their civilization, even the most bloodthirsty rituals.
Not all of these barbaric ways had gone extinct.
The one topic that interested me greatly, on which I could not find enough information, was regarding Camazotz, my very own Bat God or Death Bat, depending on who you asked. Every time I asked him, he brushed me off. It is not important. You already know me better than anyone else. Blah, blah.
But I did get some glimpses into the gods who molded the minds of the Mayan people.
He warned me off this research, too, saying much of it was speculation and most of his fellows had evolved in the last thousand years.
But he conceded they were all narcissists or megalomaniacs, none of whom liked being contradicted.
Or hearing the word no. They were used to doing whatever, and whomever, they wanted.
Not the kind of enemies it was healthy to have.
My Monster opposed the ruthless way they used man to further their own greedy desires.
Each and every one of them was filthy rich, owning more than they could ever spend, but they could never be satisfied.
I suspected my Monster had virtually unlimited means as well, but as far as I knew, he didn’t use it to exert influence over those less fortunate.
Maybe he should, since he seemed to have some compassion squirreled away under the rough exterior.
Except when he was threatened, but that made sense to me, even if I didn’t like it.
The pile of bones Darryl had unearthed still bothered me.
We’d talk about it afterwards, if we were still around.
The thought of risking my life to help him didn’t scare me as much as it should, but the threat was still vague.
Chaac had seemed so civilized when I’d seen him, but they had both been acting.
I had been able to find some theories describing how Chaac and Camazotz were longtime enemies, but it wasn’t enough to override the memory of their civil interaction.
I loved seeing the land itself after reading so much about it.
The Yucatán Peninsula consisted mostly of limestone.
Underneath the sandy top layer were hundreds of feet of caves and water.
Only hardy plants survived here, ones that could either tunnel through the limestone, like the ceiba tree the Mayans called their Tree of Life, or were opportunistic enough to hitch their roots to it.
I tried to imagine what those caves looked like.
Were they like ours in size or makeup? But then I thought of the various levels of caves, shuddering at what it must be like to get stuck down there.
No wonder these ancient people set up their underworld directly beneath their feet.
It didn’t require an active imagination to picture all sorts of horrors awaiting one down there.
Their human sacrifices involved being bled out and thrown down into the deep waters in exchange for mercy from their gods.
Despite all that hard rock foundation, the plants surrounding us were lush and tropical.
Giant green fronds scraped against the sides of the Jeep, slowing us down.
I grabbed a few, breathing in their bright scent as I bruised the flesh.
Finally, the road ended in front of a rudimentary hut made of bamboo or some type of wide reed, nestled among giant banana leaves.
Sweat and dust covered me, streaking down my face, but I had enjoyed our drive.
Hopefully, his friend wouldn’t be put off by my scruffy appearance.
As we climbed out of the Jeep, a diminutive man with curly salt and pepper hair and a grizzled beard emerged from the hut.
Camazotz greeted his friend with a broad smile and a formal hug, speaking with the old man in a language that sounded like Japanese.
As I approached, I noticed his almond eyes and deeply tanned, smooth skin, like someone with some Japanese ancestry who had moved to Mexico to live off the land.