Bones of the Sun God Read online

  “It’s a dinner cruise, remember?” Mary said.

  “I thought that sandwich in the box was dinner.”

  Mary rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you listen to anything Raul said on the boat?”

  “Who’s Raul?”

  “The tour guide! Honestly, Sam Force, how do you survive without me?”

  The group shuffled off, following the smiling, talkative Raul down a path that weaved between lush green ferns under a canopy formed by taller trees. The rays of the setting sun filtered down as thin yellows rays that sparkled and danced off the leaves. It was picturesque, but all forest and no ruins, Sam thought. Then he noticed the small piles of rocks that some of the group were photographing and realized they were in the middle of the ruins. The forest had claimed much of Lamanai for itself.

  “This must be the ninety-five percent they haven’t excavated,” Sam said to Mary.

  Mary’s reply was interrupted by a deep-throated rumble in the trees above their heads.

  “What’s that?” Sam asked, staring up as leaves fell to the ground like green snow.

  Mary pointed to a wide branch above them. “Look, there. A howler monkey.”

  A furry black monkey ran along the branch then stopped to look down at the group of trespassers under its home. Sam was about to say there was no way a little thing like that could have made such a fierce noise when it opened its mouth and let out a long, tortured growl.

  “It sounds like a wild pig,” Sam said.

  The group snapped off another few hundred photos of the monkey, and then Raul led them off down the path.

  The thick bush began to thin, and through the trees Sam glimpsed the first large stone building. It was hard to make out the shape clearly as the forest had done a good job of camouflaging it with vines and dead leaves, but it got the attention of the other tourists.

  People slowed to take photos, but Raul waved them on. “There will be time to see all this later,” he said. “First we go to the High Temple.”

  Some of the group grumbled and moaned, but they followed the boy, and soon, more and more stone structures, in various states of disrepair, were visible among the trees. Sam wasn’t impressed. He’d been expecting the kind of old temples he saw in Egypt. Lamanai had been a disappointment. But then trees parted to reveal a wide, grassy field, and Sam had a change of heart.

  On the other side of the clearing, a huge stone staircase rose out of the ground and up above the trees. Murmurs of delight rippled through the group, and cameras clicked.

  “Nice pyramid,” Sam said.

  “Its shape makes it a pyramid, but the Maya refer to them as temples, remember?” Mary said. “And they don’t have anything inside, like the Egyptian ones. They performed ceremonies and made sacrifices to their gods on top. That’s why it’s flat up there.”

  “Nothing inside? What about underneath? We are looking for a chamber.”

  Mary shrugged. “There are no records of chambers under Mayan pyramids. But this site could predate the Maya.”

  Sam nodded as he thought back to his mother’s notes about the Olmec. “I guess the steps make sense if the priests had to get up and down.”

  “And now tourists can too,” Mary said.

  Their tour guide motioned for the group to follow him across the clearing. “Follow me please. We must hurry to be at the top before sunset.”

  Sam noticed a few of the older and larger members of the group looked less than enthusiastic, and he could see why. The closer they got to the High Temple, the tougher the climb looked. The first set of stone steps were wide and angled like a steep set of stairs to a church. But they ended at a terrace, and the next steps leading off that went up at an alarmingly steep angle. Halfway up, at another terrace, a rope had been attached that ran to the top.

  “Come on,” Mary called out as she hurried to catch up with Raul. “The view will be amazing.”

  Sam didn’t doubt it; he just wasn’t so sure about the climb. He didn’t bother trying to come up with an excuse—he knew Mary wouldn’t buy it—so he hurried after her.

  Less than half the group made the trip up the High Temple, and Sam outpaced most of them. It felt good to get his muscles working, and he was glad he hadn’t embarrassed himself in front of Mary by making excuses to get out of it.

  Mary began to tire soon after they reached the rope and Sam slowed to keep her company.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said cheerfully.

  Sam waited anyway, taking a moment to admire the view. It was postcard perfect. A blanket of thick green forest ran to the wide blue band of the New River. The only thing spoiling the smooth green surface of the forest were the small stone tips of the other pyramids, poking up among the trees.

  Using the river as a reference point Sam worked out where the Temple of the Mask was. It looked a lot farther than it did on his small map, and the golden glow in the sky reminded him that he would be making the trip in the dark.

  “Hurry up, Force.”

  Sam turned to see Mary had passed him and was just stepping up onto the top of the pyramid. He leapt up the last few steps and joined her and the small, tired group on a flat area the size of a helicopter landing pad. There were no barriers, and Sam’s first thought was that he was glad the rest of the group had stayed down below. If it had been more crowded, he had visions of camera-wielding tourists tumbling to their deaths.

  At first he was happy to stay safely tucked in the middle of the group. But as the sun dropped, the spectacular golden glow drew him out for a better view, and he found himself switching his phone to camera mode.

  “Now you look like a tourist,” Mary said. She was sitting on the edge of the platform, looking out toward the New River. Sam took some shots and sat down beside her.

  “I’m only taking a photo so I can sketch it later,” he said.

  Sam and Mary stared out over the forest. Behind them, tourists chatted and the high-pitched cries of howler monkeys drifted up from the forest to remind them that below their feet were thousands of living creatures who called this place home.

  “If it were sand out there,” Sam said, waving his arm in a slow arc, “this would be like the view from the top of the Great Pyramid at Giza.”

  “Have you been up there?” Mary asked.

  Sam shook his head. “My mum and dad did, when I was a baby. My uncle told me about it. They bribed a guard to let them go up at night. They took some photos. That’s what made me think of it.”

  “That’s cool,” Mary said. “Breaking the law like that. Your parents sound like cool people. I can’t wait to meet them.”

  Sam was looking out toward the river. As Mary’s words sank in, he turned to her. She was watching him. “I mean it, Sam. Even if it seems like I’m enjoying myself and having an adventure, I haven’t forgotten why we are here. I believe we’ll find your parents.”

  Sam turned his attention back to the view. “Thanks, Mary.”

  Before the sun had hit the horizon, Raul had the group moving back down the steps. He led the way with smiles and encouraging conversation about the fine BBQ feast awaiting them. Sam had begun preparing himself for his mission to find the entrance to the chamber under the Temple of the Mask, but he couldn’t put the thought of a BBQ feast out of his head. Smarter to explore on a full stomach, he told himself. He was confident he could find the entrance now that he had located it on the map, and there would be plenty of time after dinner.

  By the time they made it to the bottom of the High Temple, the sun had set and darkness had descended on Lamanai. What Sam hadn’t noticed in the daylight were the light bulbs strung through the trees around the edge of the open area. Even without light, they would have known which way to go. The smell of cooking meat greeted the hungry climbers as they reached the ground.

  The group followed Raul across the field to another path. Lights in the trees showed the way, and Raul picked up the pace. He was as hungry as the rest of them. The group rounded a bend behind a thick stand of palms
and entered another, smaller clearing. A large thatched roof on steel poles covered most of the ground, and under it were two long trestle tables. The rest of the tour group was already seated in front of plates of cooked meat and salad.

  “Help yourselves,” Raul said, waving to another table laden with food. Two men carried trays full of steaks and sausages to the table and placed them next to bowls of salad and plates of sliced bread.

  Sam ran to the table and grabbed a paper plate. It was his first chance to eat properly since he had arrived in Belize, and he was ready to make the most of it.

  “Wow,” Mary exclaimed as Sam sat down next to her. “Is that a scale model of the High Temple?”

  Sam grinned as he positioned his food mountain in front of him. “How to pack your plate is a skill you learn at boarding school,” he said as he cut into a thick steak.

  “Are you going to have time to look for the entrance to the chamber?” Mary asked in a quieter voice.

  “Eating fast is another skill you pick up at boarding school,” Sam said before he crammed a piece of the juicy meat into his mouth.

  Mary watched Sam chewing happily, making no effort to stop the juice dribbling down his chin.

  “They obviously don’t cover table manners at St. Albans.”

  Sam was chewing and thinking up a suitably smart reply when Raul called for the group’s attention. At the far end of the table, he picked up one of the bottles of juice that had been set in front of each guest.

  “Watch this, ladies and gentlemen,” he called out as he tossed a piece of bread onto a patch of grass behind Sam and Mary’s table. The group watched, but nothing happened.

  “Hey, Raul, the monkeys don’t like your bread,” one of the older tourists called out. He and his friends burst into laughter. The tour guide grinned as he moved toward the bread. Sam thought he was going to pick it up, but he stopped short, pointed the bottle of juice, and squeezed a thin stream of orange liquid.

  Raul’s audience looked from the soggy bread to the smiling tour guide; a woman began to speak, but her voice was drowned out by the sound of rustling leaves. All heads turned back to the patch of grass next to the table.

  The noise grew, and then the piece of bread began to flicker in front of Sam’s eyes. It was as if he were looking at a picture on a bad TV screen, and he couldn’t work it out.

  But Mary had.

  “Bats,” she said.

  Sam stared at the bread, trying to understand what he was seeing and what Mary was saying, and then it made sense. In the dim light of the dining hut, the hundreds of black bats swirling in the air were almost invisible. Their tiny bodies only showed up as they darted in front of the bread.

  “Bats!”

  The word went through the group, and the excited banter grew as they understood they were witnessing a feeding frenzy. Almost as quickly, cameras came out and the moment was captured on multiple devices.

  Someone threw another piece of bread and squirted their orange juice. More bread appeared, and as the amount of food grew, so did the number of bats.

  “This is incredible,” Mary exclaimed. “I can feel the wind from their wings.”

  Sam gave in and pulled out his phone to capture the moment.

  The feeding frenzy went on for ten minutes, then Raul’s helpers removed the bread and juice, but not before Sam grabbed a bottle and slipped it into his backpack.

  Raul announced that the group had an hour to explore the Lamanai complex and handed out flashlights and maps. “Please stick to the paths. You will be quite safe. There are security people here, and other groups.”

  The tourists broke into small parties and began to move off. A few decided they had seen enough and were making themselves comfortable at the table. Sam knew it was time to go and he couldn’t put off his talk with Mary any longer.

  “Look,” he said as he steered her away from the other tourists, “I think I should go by myself.”

  Mary opened her mouth to speak, but Sam was ready. “Hear me out. I’m pretty sure I know where to go, and I’ll be faster on my own. If I find the entrance to the chamber, we can come back tomorrow and explore it properly, but I need you to stay here so you can call me if I run out of time.”

  Sam waited for Mary’s response. In the low light, he couldn’t make out her face, so he had no idea how his argument had gone down.

  Finally, she said, “Good idea.”

  “It is? I mean, I’m glad you see it that way.”

  “Totally,” Mary replied. “You better get going. You only have an hour.”

  “Plenty of time,” Sam said.

  He was wrong.

  20

  MAYHEM

  FLASHLIGHT IN HAND, SAM SET off on the path that led toward the Temple of the Mask. The noise of the other tourists faded, and the sounds of the forest folded in around him. From above came the now-familiar growls of howler monkeys. He moved at a fast walk, keeping the beam of the flashlight aimed down at the well-worn trail.

  The track weaved between the trees and eventually came to the fork that led back to the jetty. Sam had expected to reach it sooner. He glanced nervously at the clock display on his phone. One hour didn’t seem like such a long time now.

  He followed the path for another fifteen minutes. He was so nervous about the time, he almost forgot he was wandering through the jungle alone. There was no sign of other tourists. The Temple of the Mask had hardly gotten a mention from Raul, and Sam realized the rest of the group must have gone to explore the closer parts of Lamanai.

  The piercing screech of a howler monkey made Sam stop and look up. Leaves and branches thrashed and then fell silent, he hurried on. A few minutes later, he made out a dull glow in the distance. He increased his pace, hoping to bump into someone, but instantly canceled the wish. It would make his task even harder.

  He needn’t have worried.

  Sam stepped out of the forest onto neatly cut grass. The beam of his flashlight wasn’t strong enough to light up the temple, but he sensed the stone pyramid rising in front of him. As he approached it, he looked left and right for signs of other people. The area was empty.

  Moving to the right-hand corner of the temple, Sam spotted a small track disappearing into the bush toward the river. Before he entered the forest again, Sam shone his flashlight on the large carved stone mask that gave the temple its name. The face had the wide lips of an Olmec, a fact he had learned from his mother’s research. Perched on its head was the crocodile. He’d seen a photo of the face and thought it was kind of cartoonish, but now, here in the dark, it took on a very different appearance. It glared at him, the large, cold eyes warning him off.

  He tried to laugh the feeling away, but the sound that came out of his mouth was weak and forced. He was glad there was no one around to hear it.

  Sam shivered and immediately put it down to the drop in temperature. He swung around and found the path again. Palm fronds had blocked the way; it didn’t look like it had been used for a while. Sam ducked down and slipped back into the forest.

  The going was tougher now, the ground was rough, and the path quickly faded away to nothing, leaving Sam to force his way between the tree trunks and ferns. Howler monkeys screeched with indignation overhead, and every time he pushed a palm out of the way he heard the flutter of tiny bat wings.

  He kept going straight, knowing he would eventually find the river. When he did, it almost killed him.

  Sam pushed a large palm to one side and stepped over a root sticking out of the ground. As he looked up, he thought his flashlight had stopped working. In front of him was a wall of black. His foot came down, but instead of hitting the ground it kept going. Sam plunged forward and in that split second he realized he had found the river. The next thought, a fraction of a second later, was that he was falling. Twisting in midair, Sam reached out and grabbed the root. His fall ended abruptly as he slammed into the riverbank.

  Sam’s legs flailed below him. He’d let go of the flashlight, but could see it lying
in the water below. As his mind cleared, Sam realized that the riverbank was higher here, but not too high. The flashlight was only a few feet down. He twisted toward the bank and lowered himself down the thick root like a rope. When he reached the end of it, he stretched his feet out and felt the ground with the tips of his boots. Letting go, he dropped the last few inches.

  Sam retrieved the flashlight and shone it above him. The bank didn’t look as high from the ground, and he saw exposed roots he could use to climb back up.

  With his exit figured out, Sam turned his attention to the river. He’d used up a lot of time, but he was close now.

  The water ran right to the bottom of the bank, and Sam made his way slowly through the mud. It was quieter at the water’s edge, as if someone had turned the volume control down on the entire jungle. All Sam could hear was the lapping of water and the squelching of his boots in the mud.

  With the towering black outline of the Temple of the Mask behind him, Sam knew he was getting close to the entrance to the chamber. There was a narrow strip of sand here, and huge round boulders stuck out of the riverbank like giant brown marbles. Sam ran his hands over one of them, amazed it still held some of the warmth of the sun’s rays. He could see nothing that looked like a hidden entrance, but that, he supposed, was the point.

  The height of the riverbank dropped until it was only a little higher than him. The trees were growing out over the water here, and a thick wall of vines hung down over the rock. Sam looked back the way he had come, running his flashlight over the giant boulders. Then he turned back to the wall of hanging vines. These had to cover the entrance.

  The vines flowed over the edge of the riverbank like a river of thick green noodles. They made it impossible to go any farther without wading out into the water. Instead, Sam got down on his knees and crawled in between the vines and the edge of the bank. It was a tight squeeze, made worse by the fact he was still wearing Mary’s backpack, but there was just enough room. He needed both hands to hold the vines out of the way, so he put the flashlight away. Then, going by feel, he lifted the vines out and squeezed forward a few feet.