EPILOGUE
WEDNESDAY, 1:44 p.m.
Cayo District, Belize
Deep in the jungles of Belize, the Mopan River snaked through acres of wild forest. Branches of leafy canopy drooped over the river. Catamarans cr
owded every dock along the sandy banks. Natives formed lines like work ants that spanned from the boats up to the Xunantunich ruins. They carried equipment into the hills. Archeologists, geologists, task men, laborers, everyone was working to unveil the lost city. The excavation was tremendous, both in size and in cost. Some were willing to pay any price to uncover the secrets buried in the earth.
“
Ven aca! Ven aca!
” The voices of the workers echoed out from a cave inside the mountain.
One o
f the task men ran into the tunnel. The chamber air was comfortably chilly compared to the outside heat.
“
Trae la luz!
” the worker called.
The path twisted
into the mountain, a network of passages to a myriad of rooms. The task man flipped on the overhead beam of his construction helmet. Rock carvings reflected in the light on passage walls, stone faces with wide-eyed expressions, wild and frightening. The visages guarded the path as it forked into two partially excavated rooms.
“
Ven aca!
”
The task man followed the yells into the smaller of the two chambers. His worker
held a small flashlight over the area where he was digging. A stone box was partially buried within the dirt.
The task man knelt beside it. He dug around
the edges. “
Abrelo!
”
The worker joined him with a shovel.
He tucked the metal end under the lid and threw his weight over the handle, forcing the box to unseal. A rush of air escaped, the exhalation of dust. They pushed the lid aside.
“
Dios mio.
” The worker made the sign of the cross.
A
n oblong clay pot rested in the corner of the box. A dusty seal clamped the casing together at the middle. The task man brushed dirt off the seal. It was entirely rubies, with a string of darker gems forming a crimson spiral that wound toward the center of the seal.
“
Tomalo—seremos ricos.
” He reached into the box, pulled the seal off its container, and held it into the light. “
Tiene que valer mucho dinero
.”
His lips curled with a greedy smile.
The seal began to glow.
The task man’
s hands began to tremble. They would not open. He couldn’t let go of the seal. Every tendon and muscle twitched, and then froze in place. He collapsed in seizure. An excruciating, squeezing pain wrung his body like an invisible olive press. His sinew liquefied. Blood began to trickle out of his pores. Beginning at his fingertips, up his arm, across his chest, and then along his neck and face, blood seeped from every vesicle.
T
he seal dropped from his hand. It rolled through the dirt and stopped beside the worker’s feet. The worker dropped his flashlight and ran out of the room.
“
Demonios! Espiritus!
”
Acknowledgments
Someone wise once told me “if you write it, they will read.” Well, actually nobody told me that, I came up with it myself and I’m not very wise, but I’ve said it, it is out there, so on we go. I wrote it, so read this:
This book is 2/9 Bird’s
baby, so she deserves 22.2% of the credit. Bird has read PASSAGE GRAVES more than anyone—including myself. Many a long night, she stayed awake with me to debate the storylines of Thatcher, David, Ian, and Asor. Hands down, Bird is my most encouraging cheerleader—certainly the loudest and most consistent, and the best cook.
Thanks Dad for working hard your entire life to give your children the privilege of dreaming big.
I’d like to give a shout-out to Dr. Aaron Watson, whose monumental research on Maeshowe inspired the brain seed of this story. Julia Starr, thank you for your brilliant cover art. I look forward to working with you again. Cousin Chris, your boundless enthusiasm made Passage Graves a reality. Thanks to Sarah for walking my Jack Russell Terriers again and again so I could get this finished. Mulder & Scully, you taught me to never stop believing “the truth is out there.”
At the top of this list,
I want to thank
the most important person
:
YOU
!
Y
OU determine the success of this book. Yes, YOU, the good-looking, sophisticated reader of these sentences. If YOU enjoyed Passage Graves, spread the word. Positive reviews on Amazon and Goodreads make a world of difference to an independent writer. Passage Graves is a part of Amazon’s “Kindle Library Lending”—loan this book to a friend for free. If YOU like it, lend it.
Follow me on
PASSAGEGRAVES.COM and “like” Passage Graves and Madyson Rush on Facebook for updates about the release of the second book in this series. You, yes you!
COME, THOU ART CHOSEN!
Your devoted writer,
Madyson Rush