one of the other Mayan men shouted over the increasing winds. “It is nearing the village! We must go inside immediately!”
“Please,” Itchik said. “Come with us.”
Riq handed the Ring back to Sera, who looked it over. “Well, let’s hope it still works,” she said, slipping it back into her satchel.
Riq and Sera were both staring at Dak.
“What?” he said.
The noise of the storm made it impossible to communicate.
Everyone kept quiet as the Mayas led Riq, Sera, and Dak through the bustling village. Many people seemed to be headed in the opposite direction, which worried Riq. Maybe they were following the wrong men. But when they stopped in front of an especially large stone hut, he saw other groups of Mayan families hunkering down in neighboring huts, too.
Itchik and his men quickly unlatched the front door and stepped inside, motioning for Riq and the others to enter.
“But we’re sopping wet,” Riq said, indicating his dripping, muddy clothes and the puddles forming around his feet.
“This does not matter,” Itchik said. “Please, you must join us inside.”
As they wrung out their clothes by the door, Riq peered around the inside of the hut. He trusted Itchik and his friends, but he also couldn’t shake the memory of what had happened in 1850, when SQ slave traders had masqueraded as Hystorian allies. His eyes went immediately to a cluster of Mayas huddled together in the middle of the room, singing. Based on the lyrics, Riq gathered that their song was directed at some type of rain god. He studied their faces, which showed both fear and awe for the storm.
A girl around his age suddenly turned and met his eyes. She was still singing with everyone else, but he noticed a slight raise at the corners of her mouth. This subtle smile made him feel that he was safe inside the hut. But it also made him feel something else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
The girl turned back to the group just as Dak whispered, “Guys, listen to me. I don’t think they’re Time Wardens.”
Sera patted him on the back. “Whatever gives you that idea, Dak? Is it because that’s what we just told you outside? Or is it the fact that they basically rescued us from a tropical storm?”
“And brought us into their home,” Riq added.
Dak frowned at Riq and turned back to Sera. “Look, I’m sorry I damaged the Ring, okay? But I saw these guys huddled around you, and one of them was holding the Ring, and I just sort of freaked.”
Sera sighed. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix it,” she said. “I’ll fix it.”
“At least I figured out what time we’re in,” Dak said. “Approximately. We’re definitely in the seventh century, not 1562. We were off by less than a millennium.”
“That part is my fault,” Sera whispered. “Although I’m not sure what I did wrong.”
“I’m still not convinced landing here was a mistake,” Riq replied. “Maybe there’s something important happening here, too. Like, what if this storm is somehow connected to the riddle?”
“Oh, oh, oh.” Dak was suddenly so excited he was jumping up and down. “I meant to tell you guys. I saw something important inside the observatory. You won’t believe this. Seriously.”
“Go on,” Sera said. “Spit it out.”
But before Dak could say another word, Itchik clapped his hands together and called to them. “Friends, please join us in our small ceremony. We are asking the gods not to wash away our crops. And for a safe passage here for our neighbors from Calakmul, who are to come and study our discoveries.”
Riq motioned for Sera and Dak to follow him toward the middle of the room. As they walked, Dak said softly, “I’ll tell you guys about the observatory later. It could be part of the riddle, though. Also, I have a new theory about these people. I think they might be Hystorians.”
“They’re not Hystorians,” Riq said, turning around.
“How do you know?”
“We sort of asked them already,”
“Please,” Itchik said. “Come with us.”
Riq handed the Ring back to Sera, who looked it over. “Well, let’s hope it still works,” she said, slipping it back into her satchel.
Riq and Sera were both staring at Dak.
“What?” he said.
The noise of the storm made it impossible to communicate.
Everyone kept quiet as the Mayas led Riq, Sera, and Dak through the bustling village. Many people seemed to be headed in the opposite direction, which worried Riq. Maybe they were following the wrong men. But when they stopped in front of an especially large stone hut, he saw other groups of Mayan families hunkering down in neighboring huts, too.
Itchik and his men quickly unlatched the front door and stepped inside, motioning for Riq and the others to enter.
“But we’re sopping wet,” Riq said, indicating his dripping, muddy clothes and the puddles forming around his feet.
“This does not matter,” Itchik said. “Please, you must join us inside.”
As they wrung out their clothes by the door, Riq peered around the inside of the hut. He trusted Itchik and his friends, but he also couldn’t shake the memory of what had happened in 1850, when SQ slave traders had masqueraded as Hystorian allies. His eyes went immediately to a cluster of Mayas huddled together in the middle of the room, singing. Based on the lyrics, Riq gathered that their song was directed at some type of rain god. He studied their faces, which showed both fear and awe for the storm.
A girl around his age suddenly turned and met his eyes. She was still singing with everyone else, but he noticed a slight raise at the corners of her mouth. This subtle smile made him feel that he was safe inside the hut. But it also made him feel something else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
The girl turned back to the group just as Dak whispered, “Guys, listen to me. I don’t think they’re Time Wardens.”
Sera patted him on the back. “Whatever gives you that idea, Dak? Is it because that’s what we just told you outside? Or is it the fact that they basically rescued us from a tropical storm?”
“And brought us into their home,” Riq added.
Dak frowned at Riq and turned back to Sera. “Look, I’m sorry I damaged the Ring, okay? But I saw these guys huddled around you, and one of them was holding the Ring, and I just sort of freaked.”
Sera sighed. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix it,” she said. “I’ll fix it.”
“At least I figured out what time we’re in,” Dak said. “Approximately. We’re definitely in the seventh century, not 1562. We were off by less than a millennium.”
“That part is my fault,” Sera whispered. “Although I’m not sure what I did wrong.”
“I’m still not convinced landing here was a mistake,” Riq replied. “Maybe there’s something important happening here, too. Like, what if this storm is somehow connected to the riddle?”
“Oh, oh, oh.” Dak was suddenly so excited he was jumping up and down. “I meant to tell you guys. I saw something important inside the observatory. You won’t believe this. Seriously.”
“Go on,” Sera said. “Spit it out.”
But before Dak could say another word, Itchik clapped his hands together and called to them. “Friends, please join us in our small ceremony. We are asking the gods not to wash away our crops. And for a safe passage here for our neighbors from Calakmul, who are to come and study our discoveries.”
Riq motioned for Sera and Dak to follow him toward the middle of the room. As they walked, Dak said softly, “I’ll tell you guys about the observatory later. It could be part of the riddle, though. Also, I have a new theory about these people. I think they might be Hystorians.”
“They’re not Hystorians,” Riq said, turning around.
“How do you know?”
“We sort of asked them already,”
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