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It didn’t look like a bit of antler.
“It is all a load of superstition,” the priest continued. He hesitated as he took another puff. “Probably. Of course, none of my people are willing to go there.”
“Yeah. Sure,” Adam replied. “Makes sense.”
“But I am sure you are perfectly qualified to wander into an unknown and potentially dangerous area of the forest with nothing more than a lady scholar, a machete, and a reasonably nice Winchester,” Kuyoc neatly concluded.
Adam bristled a bit.
“It’s a great Winchester,” he retorted. “And I kinda am, actually.”
“Oh?” the priest prompted as his gaze sharpened. “And how is that?”
“I’m the assistant surveyor general for the colony.”
“Ah,” Kuyoc replied. “So you arethatMr. Bates.”
“You’ve heard of me?” Adam blurted in surprise.
Kuyoc shrugged.
“I mean—a little. A very small amount. Mostly just your name in passing,” he noted dismissively.
The priest pushed nimbly to his feet.
“Well, then,” he continued. “If you will excuse me, it is getting late. I should be getting my rest. Old bones, you see.”
Adam thought of how energetically the guy had practically danced up the hill a couple of hours ago.
“Sure.” Adam forced back his skepticism as he rose as well. “Thank you—for all of this. It’s very much appreciated.”
“What is it you Yankees say? Don’t mention it.” Kuyoc flashed him a smile. “Good evening to you, Mr. Bates.”
“K’a’ak’ate, Padre,” Adam replied, using some of his more reliable Mopan words.
Kuyoc gave him a nod, and then was gone.
?
Twenty-Two
Ellie woke to thesound of giggles. She rolled over in her hammock to see Lupe and Itza’s dark heads bent together beside her as the two girls whispered conspiratorially. As the pair noticed that Ellie’s eyes were open, they brightened and chattered to her cheerfully in Mopan.
Lupe and Itza were two of Feliciana’s several granddaughters. The girls lived with their mother and father in the smaller of the two houses on Feliciana’s plot. Ellie guessed that Lupe was around fourteen, with Itza perhaps two years younger.
She had slept very comfortably in their house, and upon waking, was feeling more refreshed than she had in quite a while. Perhaps that was simply due to the good food and lack of mosquitoes—but it was also true that Ellie didn’t recall having any dreams the night before.
The absence of any nighttime visitations was a surprise. Ellie’s dreams had come so regularly since she had arrived in the colony that she had grown to expect them.
As she sat up, Ellie’s gaze fell on the painting of a saint, which was mounted on the wall across from her hammock. The figure was clothed in robes like those of the Holy Virgin—but instead of the Virgin’s placid face, the layers of fabric framed an elegant white skull.
The small, framed card tugged at Ellie strangely. By all rights, the image should have seemed a bit gruesome, but instead, it felt oddly benevolent—as though an old friend had been watching over her as she slept.
A little shelf in front of the icon held a offerings of flowers and cigarettes. Ellie put her limited Spanish to use to try to ask about it.
“¿Quién es ella?” she asked.
Lupe and Itza offered her a quick explanation in Mopan, and then remembered that Ellie couldn’t understand it. After a glance at each other, they attempted a bit of Spanish.
