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“Attend to our guests!” Jacob commanded the servant, who instantly dispersed to fetch the jugs of xocolatl and trays of meats and fruits. Mataré was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his face. Mr. Roth was a heavy man. Even with the strength of a jaguar priest, he’d undergone a test of endurance.
“You found him,” Jacob said in the old tongue, knowing Mr. Roth was passable in Spanish.
“And I killed in order to claim him,” Mataré said proudly. “They could not stop me.”
“You will be rewarded,” Jacob said. “A kingdom to rule. A grand one.”
“Thank you, Master of Secrets,” Mataré said. “I must prepare for the ceremony.”
“Go. You are highly favored.”
Mataré smiled, bowed to Jacob, and then departed, leaving Jacob and Angélica alone with Mr. Roth in the now empty throne room.
Jacob switched to English.
“Once again you return to the Jaguar Temple, Mr. Roth. A fitting night, of course, to return. We are reenacting La Noche Triste. I’m glad you will be here to participate in it.”
Roth lifted his head, looking defeated and frightened. He glanced around the chamber, taking in the elaborate stonework.
“So you’re going to kill me?” he said with a sigh.
“You knew that was the only acceptable outcome when you chose to defy me. Surely it cannot be a surprise to you. Did you honestly believe I would not enforce my threats?”
Roth scratched his neck but still remained in a subservient posture. “When you didn’t let Sarina go, I thought she was already dead. I didn’t know you’d spared Jane Louise.”
“I was using them both as security for your good faith. Now we both see that it was prudent for me to do so.”
“Indeed. You won.”
“Do not try to flatter me, Mr. Roth. You survived longer than most who have roused my displeasure. Your cooperation with the government has unleashed mighty enemies against me too soon. Confronting the military was always part of my plan. They are a powerful crocodile. But even a jaguar can seize a crocodile by the neck and drag it out of the river. There are many of us. We are enough.”
Roth sighed and shook his head. “I know that I cannot plead for my life. But I ask that you spare my family.”
Jacob took a step forward. “If they were here, I would make them watch you die,” he said coldly. “There was a time of war among the ancient Maya when the captives were fed on the flesh and blood of their own fathers and husbands. And then they were starved to death. That is what I would do to your family, Mr. Roth. In a dungeon at the gates of Xibalba where no one could hear them scream. Consider it a mercy from Ix Chel that they’re not here. After I’ve cut out your heart, your flesh will be fed to the jungle. Prepare for midnight, Mr. Roth. It comes swiftly.”
Roth lifted his head and glared at him defiantly.
“I wasn’t expecting to survive as long as I did. I’ve had another year with my kids. I outsmarted you in Germany and Bozeman. I’m the one who tricked you in DC too. The Situation Room trap. That was my idea.”
Jacob’s blood began to boil with rage. Was Roth trying to provoke a harsh reaction? Did he wish to be killed quickly, mauled by a jaguar, instead of facing the ceremonial dagger?
“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Jacob countered.
“No. You’re supposed to be worried,” Roth said, rising to his feet. Jacob didn’t like his look of defiance. It was intolerable.
“I’m not,” Jacob answered simply.
“We both know what’s on the blank pages of the Dresden Codex. The prophecy isn’t about you. That’s why I know you’re going to lose. Whether or not I die is inconsequential in the end. As long as you . . . lose.”
Mr. Roth was trying to play mind games. But Jacob found himself thinking of that look on his father’s face, all those years ago, when he’d brought him to Aztlán. He’d seen something in a vision. Something that had prompted him to try to kill Jacob. No one else knew about that. No one else would know about it.
“Kukulkán is coming,” Roth said. “The prophecy is about him. Not you.”
“Your posturing is insufferable,” Jacob said angrily.
“I have nothing to lose,” Roth said, holding up his hands. “I already know I’m a dead man. And so are you. You’ve persuaded everyone you’re the ‘chosen one.’ But you’re just like Cortés, making decisions based on a myth you don’t even understand.”
Jacob was furious now, but he didn’t want Roth to know how much he’d unsettled him. If it was a ploy to win an early death, it was close to working.
