The Mayan Codex (61 page)

Ixtab shook her head. She glanced at the Halach Uinic. He met her gaze, then let his eyes fall to the ground.

Sabir made a grab for Ixtab’s hand. ‘What else did I say?’

‘You also spoke of your blood sister, Yola Samana. You told us that she had been made pregnant by her
husband, Alexi Dufontaine, on a beach on the island of Corsica. But that her coming child was no normal child, but the one predicted by Nostradamus in his lost prophecies – the prophecies that you had read and then burned in order to keep them out of the hands of Achor Bale and the Corpus Maleficus. That this child was indeed the
Parousia
, which some call the Second Coming. That because of his background, and the cursed nomadic tribe from which he sprang, the child would grow up to be a representative of all faiths, both religious and secular – of all people, not simply the Christians – of all races, not simply the Aryan and the Semitic. That his birth was designed by God to bring the peoples of the world together, and not to separate them, just as Revelations had foretold. “In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river,
was there
the tree of life, which bare twelve
manner of
fruits,
and
yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree
were
for the healing of the nations.”’

‘Oh, God. I told you all that? But I swore not to tell.’

‘To whom did you swear?’

Sabir shook his head uncertainly. ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. To myself, I suppose. Whoever I swore it to, in my delirium, is irrelevant. I owe Yola my protection. She is my blood sister. There are vows I have taken in front of her tribe. The more people who know of this thing, the more danger she stands in.’

The Halach Uinic smiled. ‘All is well then. No one here will abuse your trust. You told us because you had to pass on the message. The Vision Serpent made you do so. The cult of the Second Coming shall start here. When the time is ripe we will proclaim his name. And that will be on 21 December 2012. At the very end of the Cycle of the Nine Hells.’

‘Then you’ll be signing the child’s death warrant. I shouldn’t have spoken. You were wrong to give me the
datura
. I have betrayed my blood sister.’

‘No, Adam. You told us because your unconscious mind sensed that you must share the secret you had stumbled on. That it would only be believed if it emerged under such circumstances. Such a secret is too much of a burden for any one man to carry.’

Sabir shook his head. ‘Wrong. I told you because I thought I was the chief whose eyes the Spaniards started out of his head with the
garrotte –
that I was about to die, in other words, and carry my secret to the grave with me. I dreamed that I was in the clearing with Friar de Landa. That I saw Akbal Coatl writing his record. That I saw the broken bodies of those the Friar had already tortured. When I was blinded, the Vision Serpent briefly lent me his eyes so that I could bear witness to what had occurred.’ Sabir ground the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. ‘It’s all nonsense, of course. I wasn’t there. The drug was simply working on me. I was on a fucking trip, that’s all. And my unconscious mind grabbed hold of the first thing that suggested itself to me, which just happened to be the de Landa story. Under different circumstances it could just as easily have latched onto the storyline of a book I’d just been reading. Or a movie. Or something that had happened to me earlier that day in the street.’

‘You were that chief. You did see the Vision Serpent.’ The Halach Uinic was bending forwards at the waist. He was urging Sabir to believe him with his eyes.

‘Bullshit. How can that be possible?’

‘Because we were with you, Adam. All of us. We witnessed what happened to you. Ixtab was one of the ones who carried you from the square. As was I. As was the guardian, and the Chilan, and Calque. We all
carried you out of there. We were chosen to share your vision. It was a communal one. As an acknowledged midwife, Ixtab was even told by the Franciscans to tend to your wounds so that you would not die. So that your torment could serve as an example to the other chiefs.’

Sabir looked uncertainly at the Halach Uinic. Then he gave a bitter laugh. ‘This is all madness. You all carried me out here, now, this minute. Not out of the square at Maní four hundred and fifty years ago. I don’t believe a word of it. Where was Lamia in all of this? I need to speak to her. I need to ask her something.’

The Halach Uinic stood up. He looked around himself in the darkness. ‘This is impossible, I am afraid. For Lamia has gone.’

Calque shrugged. ‘She was definitely here a few minutes ago. I saw her. We were in that place for more than four hours. It’s my guess that she’s gone to pay a visit to the bushes – and fast. That’s not something you particularly want to communicate to everybody when they’re carrying your boyfriend out in a dead faint.’

Sabir grimaced. ‘I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this any more. Is it all right if we leave it to the morning? I’m going back to our lean-to. Lamia will be waiting for me there. I’m sure of it.’

‘You know how to find it?’

‘Yes. It’s starting to get light. Look.’ Sabir pointed to a vague luminescence in the eastern sky. ‘We’re right next
to the tallest tree in the place. It’s virtually impossible to miss it.’

‘I’m coming with you.’ Calque stepped quickly to Sabir’s side.

‘What for? To hold my hand? To make sure I don’t get lost in the dark?’

‘I want to make sure that Lamia’s all right. That was an uncomfortable experience to witness back there. You were screaming, Sabir. Like they were really squeezing out your eyes.’

‘They were.’

‘But you just told us it was bullshit. Get your story right, man.’

In the dim light of the pre-dawn Sabir could just make out that Calque had his head cocked to one side, as if he were talking to someone with a particularly low IQ. This was a specialty of Calque’s. Something he’d clearly perfected over thirty years of questioning obstreperous – and often none-too-bright – suspects.

Sabir bitterly resented being on the receiving end of that particular look. Especially now, when he was feeling more than a little fragile. ‘Well maybe I was wrong. I can still feel pain there, for Christ’s sake. Like someone slammed a car door on my head. Then pulled it back and slammed it again for good measure.’

Calque sighed. ‘That happened years ago, Sabir. It’s been obvious to me for a long time. There has to be some rational explanation for the way you behave.’

The Halach Uinic raised his hand placatingly. He was keen to put as much distance between himself and the smart-talking ex-policeman as possible. ‘We all need some sleep. We’ll see you both in the morning. At breakfast. Much will have clarified itself by then, I am sure. And Ixtab will be able to explain the rest to you. How the
datura
works. Collective visions. Things like that.’

‘Well I’m glad somebody will be able to.’ Sabir’s head was about to burst. He felt desperately thirsty. He wanted to skulk off and drink a gallon of cold water, take three Advil, and then escape into Lamia’s arms. It was with considerable relief that he watched the silhouettes of the four figures disappearing into the murk.

As soon as they were safely gone, Calque grabbed Sabir by the shoulder and started hurrying him in the opposite direction.

‘What the heck’s the matter, Calque? Why are we in such a rush? You’re behaving mighty strangely all of a sudden.’

Calque hustled him towards the great tree. ‘Listen. I’m probably about to make the biggest mistake of my life. But just bear with me, Sabir. If you’ve ever felt one iota of friendship for me, then now is your chance to prove it.’

Lamia wasn’t waiting for them at the lean-to.

Sabir grabbed his head in both his hands in an effort to ward off his migraine. ‘She’s lost. It’s still dark as hell out there. And everyone’s asleep. There’s nobody to ask for directions. She’ll not have wanted to disturb anybody.’

‘That’s nonsense and you know it.’

‘I don’t know it. What are you trying to tell me, Calque? What’s this great call you intend to make on our friendship? You’re not going to tell me that Lamia has somehow moved from being your blue-eyed girl to being one of the enemy again?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Where are your car keys?’

Sabir slapped his pockets. Then he looked blank. ‘They were in here.’

‘But she needed them for something, no?’

Sabir nodded slowly. ‘Yes. She wanted a change of clothing before the ceremony. Access to her toothbrush. That sort of thing. That still doesn’t put her back in the Corpus camp. Come on, man. What are you thinking? That after all they did to her she’s still loyal to them?’

‘But what did they do to her?’

‘You tell me. You’re the one that found her. You’re the one that brought her along on this trip. You’re the one that tipped me the wink that she was attracted to me. Christ, Calque. You’re the best friend she has in the world. You’re going to feel like a total asshole when she comes skipping back in from wherever she’s managed to lose herself. I’ll do you a real favour, though. Give you a real proof of our friendship. I won’t tell her what you suspected.’

Calque stared out at the gradually lightening sky. ‘They tied her up, put her on a table, and gave her a tranquillizer. That’s all they did to her.’

‘That would be enough for most people.’

‘There’s something else.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Her name.’

‘Her name?’

‘She lied to us about her name.’

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake.’

‘She told us that Lamia was the daughter of Poseidon and the mistress of Zeus. That that was her only significance. That Zeus accorded Lamia the gift of prophecy as a down payment for her services to him in bed. That she was unimportant in the general scheme of things.’

‘So?’

‘So I thought about it. And then I thought about it some more. It niggled at me. All the other adoptive names – except for our old friend Achor Bale, aka Rocha de Bale, who was adopted at far too late an age for a name change – which in the case of a teenager like him would have had to have been referred to a
juge des affaires familiales
anyway …’

‘Calque, for crying out loud. You’re not on the police force any longer. You’re not making out a case for the prosecuting judge.’

‘The examining magistrate, please.’

Sabir slapped his forehead in frustration, and then instantly regretted it. ‘What about the names? Tell me.’

Calque sighed. ‘All the names of the Countess’s adoptive children are specific to some sort of demon or other. To one of the Devil’s henchmen, maybe, or to some other freak out of hell. Lamia explained all that to us. It’s categorical. Another of the Countess’s endearing little tics. So why should Lamia be any different?’

‘Why indeed?’ Sabir was beginning to look rather sick.

‘So when you were both up in your room doing whatever you were doing in that motel at Ticul, I phoned an old friend of mine in France. Got him to consult Lemprière’s
Classical Dictionary
. And one or two other books he happened to have to hand.’

‘Don’t tell me? Lamia was the Devil’s handmaiden, code name 666? Or maybe the Countess gave her the name of some famous female serial killer? The Countess Báthory, maybe?’