Words of Love (12 page)

He lifted the machete, licked his thumb, and brushed the blade with it.

Jesse convulsively sucked in a breath as the stinging continued.

“I keep my helper very sharp,” he said slowly, looking at the blade. “So sharp, it doesn’t hurt. So it does no good to use the edge.”

With a flick of his wrist, he brought the flat metal down again, higher, near her rib cage, and harder.

She cried out.

“There,” he said, sounding satisfied. “Now, tell me, where is the Red King?”

She coughed and shook her head. He used the back of the blade to scrape the waist of her shorts down to her hips.

“I don’t know where–”

Again, the blade came down, lower across her abdomen, with a metal ringing thwack.

She screamed.

• • • • •

Brett saw the looter just as he heard Jesse scream.

His ears pinned back against his head and he felt his heart begin to pound.
 

Jesse!

He wanted to scream her name, run to her, save her from whatever had happened but someone stood in the way–a man with a rifle. He had to be a looter.

Brett quietly set down the lantern and jade tablet and quickly backed away from them. The looter with the rifle had just entered the other side of the plaza and he apparently didn’t know about the floodlights.

Brett backed into shadow and then ducked behind a stela.

The man approached cautiously as Jesse screamed again.

God, what was happening to her?

He forced himself to stay still though his heart was pounding in his ears and the echo of her scream still rang in the cavern.

The looter had finally seen the jade tablet. Though he might have guessed it was a trap, he couldn’t help but stare at the blue jade. Even from where he stood, he must be able to see the color. Blue Olmec jade fetched top dollar.

The man crouched and swiveled his head from side to side but, true to form, he zeroed in on the jade.
 

Jesse screamed again and Brett cringed. He glared at the man with the rifle.

Hurry
.

• • • • •

Jesse convulsed under the blade yet again but felt the room start to spin and darkness begin to take over her vision.

“No, no, no,” Frederico said, a warning tone in his voice, just as water hit her face.
 

She sputtered and coughed but her eyes opened at the sudden sensation.
 

He stood there with a metal cup in his hand.

“Where is the Red King?”

“Please,” she managed to breathe. “I don’t know.”

As the blade slapped into her, she grunted, without the energy to scream.
 

Was Brett with the Red King?

Her head swam.

“The Red King,” said Frederico.

And the blade came down again.

Oh god, it hurt. It burned and stung and each swing hurt more than the last. But as the pain rose, an image blazed into her mind.

The Red King. The Blood Gatherer. The confession. And the pain. It hurt but…
hurt
was the
key
.

The glyphs began to circle, slowly at first. The word for hurt sounded like the word for the spine of a cactus. It was the spine of the cactus that symbolized repentant bloodletting. The confession was a bloodletting and the prospective king needed to bring the cactus spine and let blood.

She had been
right
.
 

The Red King would have his blood.

Again, water was thrown in her face and the haze of pain returned.

“You leave me no choice,” said Frederico. He moved the machete in front of her face so she could see it. “The tip can also be effective.”

Finally, the looter was almost within reach. He’d stopped looking from side to side and was completely focused on the stone tablet. Brett crouched low, ready to spring.
 

Just then, Jesse screamed with a blood-freezing wail that made his teeth grind and even made the looter look.

Brett leapt at him.
 

At least six inches taller than the man, he easily tackled him as the rifle discharged into the air. As the adrenalin coursing through his system finally found a release, Brett jammed his shoulder into the man’s solar plexus and took hold of the rifle. As the smaller man grunted and hit the ground, the air was knocked out of him and his grip went slack. Brett quickly ripped the gun from his hands.

But the little man was tough. Even though he was on his back, he immediately began punching and landed two quick blows, one on the jaw and one in the eye. As Brett backed up and got to his knees, the looter tried to crawl backwards, crab-like. With one eye closed, Brett swung the rifle but he was off balance.
 

The butt of the gun glanced off the man’s head and then hit the ground with a loud crack, as the wooden stock flew apart. It had been enough to stun the man, though, and Brett still held the barrel of the gun. He swung it backhanded and it thudded into the side of the man’s head with a crunching sound.

Though he’d never so much as slapped anyone in his life, Brett knew with certainty that the man would not be getting back up. Without so much as a backwards glance, Brett sprang to his feet. He grabbed the jade tablet and sprinted for camp.

• • • • •

Frederico tisked. As he watched blood trickle from the bottom of the woman’s foot, he realized he should have made the foot straps tighter. He’d barely started when she’d screamed and jerked and actually been able to move her foot.

Suddenly, a rifle shot rang out.

That would mean one of two things: Ernesto had found the man and couldn’t follow orders or the man had found Ernesto. Both were bad and suddenly the hair on the back of Frederico’s neck stood up. Without thinking, he sheathed the machete, took out his pistol and positioned himself at the far end of the tent. Then he heard the heavy boots over the sound of the generator. He’d been right to move.

Suddenly, the tent flap opened and the gringo appeared.

“Jesse!” he screamed and started toward her just as he realized Frederico was there.

• • • • •

Although Jesse’s eyes were open and she was panting, she didn’t seem to see him. As though his mind were in overdrive, Brett took in everything.

Even as one part of his brain catalogued the large red welts on her midsection and the blood at the foot of the bed, another part of his brain silently screamed.

She’d been tortured.

Tortured
.

He slowly swung his glare on Frederico as the pistol and machete were quickly added to the catalog.
 

Whether it was from his swelling eye or the fury that threatened to take him over, Brett looked at him through a red mist. He stared hard at the pistol pointed at him. It’d take more than that to stop him.

Still gripping the jade stone, his fists shook as he looked at Frederico’s face–the toady face of the man who’d rented him the boat, who’d come here looking for treasure, who’d
hurt Jesse
. As he turned to face him squarely, Frederico quickly pointed the gun at Jesse.

Brett froze.

“Drop the rifle,” Frederico said. Brett hadn’t even realized he was still gripping the barrel of the broken gun. He let it drop. “Where is the Red King?”

Brett stared at the pistol, glanced at Jesse, and then took a deep breath as he looked back to Frederico.

“In the seventh cave,” he said.

“Brett, no,” Jesse breathed.

Frederico smirked.

“Where in the seventh cave?”

“In the pyramid,” Brett said.

“Brett,” Jesse pleaded. “Please don’t!”
 

He wanted desperately to turn to her but he didn’t dare take his eyes off Frederico, who was eying the two of them. Then he focused back on Brett.

“So you think you found the Red King?”

Brett tossed him the blue jade carving of the Jester God. Even a looter–
especially
a looter–would know what that meant: a Maya king was never far away.

Frederico caught it on his stomach and then looked down at it.

“Oh my god,” Jesse whimpered. “Brett.”

This time, he looked at her. His heart thudded in his chest and blood pounded in his temples as he looked at her face–and saw the pain. Tears were welling up as she stared at the blue stone.

Now Brett could clearly see the outline of the machete blade in the welts, several of them. His jaw tightened and he felt his teeth grinding. He couldn’t see the bottom of her foot but he could already guess what had happened. Frederico had used his machete on one the most sensitive parts of the body. He remembered the long wail that the man with the rifle had turned to hear.

As he looked back to her face, their eyes met and she blinked away tears.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice choked.

“Then don’t do it,” she pleaded quietly. “Don’t tell him.”

“That’s not what I’m sorry about,” he said.

With a sudden jolt, he realized how easily he’d given up the Red King–and how much it didn’t matter.

“Let’s go,” Frederico said.

They both looked at him.

“Untie the girl,” he said, indicating Jesse with the pistol.

Brett shook his head.

“Leave her here,” he said. “You don’t need her.”

“No, gringo, but you
do
. You won’t cross me because, if you do, she’ll die. Untie her or watch her die right here.”

“Don’t look,” Brett said, as they passed the looter’s body.

As she limped, Brett supported her with an arm around her waist. The pain in the bottom of her foot was excruciating and she could hardly put any weight on it. She hung on to him with an arm around his neck and they both carried lanterns. Frederico followed them with the gun.

Jesse had already turned her head away from the horrific sight, sure she’d pass out if she saw it. The dark stain that spread out from the man’s head had to be blood.

The Blood Gatherer would have his blood.

Suddenly, Jesse remembered the translation.

She glanced behind at Frederico, who was looking at the body as they passed. Then she looked up at Brett, his expression grim.

“I have a confession,” she said quietly.

He looked down at her, his eyebrows furrowed.

“A what?”

“A
confession
,” she said, continuing to limp along. “I am bringing my
confession
.”

Understanding had just begun to dawn in Brett’s face when Frederico shoved them from behind.

“
Silence
,” he said.

She stumbled and landed on the injured foot. Although Brett immediately lifted her with one arm, the pain shot up her leg.

Brett had already tried to carry her but Frederico hadn’t allowed it. Maybe it made them easier to control if she limped or maybe he just liked the pain. She didn’t know why. She only knew it hurt.

She sucked in a breath as her body went rigid but, rather than be pushed again, she quickly hopped with Brett’s help. They proceeded past the other caves and finally paused at the electrical box for the seventh cave. Brett turned on the lights.

• • • • •

As they entered and left the noise of the engine behind them, Brett heard Frederico chuckling. He didn’t need to see him to know what was happening. He’d nearly done the same thing the first time he’d seen the pyramid. It was euphoria.

Slowly, they began to climb the steps. Jesse could only use her left foot to step up. Then she’d gingerly set down her right foot just long enough to get her left foot on the next step. Brett took as much of her weight as he could with one arm. It was slow but they eventually reached the top and entered the building.

As Jesse leaned against one wall and tried to catch her breath, Frederico peered into the rectangular hole in the floor. For a moment, Brett thought of shoving him down it. But in the next moment, the pistol was pointed back at Jesse.

“You don’t really think I’m that stupid,” Frederico grinned.

Brett said nothing.

Frederico motioned toward the steps.

“You two first,” he said.

Brett went to Jesse.

She had solved the riddle–a riddle that Frederico didn’t even know existed. The Blood Gatherer wanted them to bring ‘the confession’ and Jesse knew what that meant but Frederico was watching everything they did and could hear everything they said. There was a test down there and it would be deadly.

He’d foolishly tripped the first trap before Jesse could stop him and they’d nearly been drowned in a torrent of dirt. With Jesse’s decipherment of the second riddle, they’d successfully opened the staircase and claimed the blue jade carving of the Jester God.

As he took Jesse by the waist, she groaned a little and held her stomach.
 

Was it a dizzy spell?

He braced himself to catch her.

“I shouldn’t have had so much
nopal
for breakfast,” she moaned, as though she were sick.

Brett stared at her and cocked his head.

What?

She hadn’t had
any
breakfast and they certainly didn’t have any
nopal
, the fruit of the cactus plant. He didn’t even like–

“Down the stairs,” Frederico barked.

She looked up at Brett, her eyes searching his face.

It was the riddle. She was trying to tell him something before they went down.

Slowly, he helped her away from the wall and toward the stairs.

What did
nopal
or cactus have to do with the confession?

Though he didn’t know what, it meant
something
.

Holding their lanterns in front of them, they took the steps one at a time. The descending staircase and corridor were long but completely blank. Not a single glyph or carving was anywhere to be seen. It was oddly jarring after all the glyphs and panels they’d encountered. But when they reached the chamber at the bottom, the symbols seemed to be everywhere.

• • • • •

The entire chamber glittered.

Jesse squinted as they slowly made their way into it. Every surface was carved, even the floor and ceiling, but there was no sarcophagus. She’d already known it wouldn’t be that easy.