Ice Shock(89)

I glance up in surprise to see Montoyo nodding solemnly. “How can your father’s spirit leave this place,” he asks, “if you won’t let him go?”

“What about my mother?”

Montoyo sighs. “Well, that’s another matter. I will help you there. I believe the time has come for her to know—about everything.

“Your father lived a marvelous life. He was greatly respected in his field of work. He had a wonderful family. A son he can be really proud of. He discovered Ek Naab—and through him, we discovered you. Through him and you, we have the Ix Codex; we can prepare for 2012. Think about that. It’s a life to celebrate.”

Slowly, I nod.

“And you … you did amazing things, Josh. You found the Adapter, found the Revival Chamber—the one written about in the Ix Codex. And you found your father. I underestimated you. I didn’t think you were ready for all this. Well, maybe you are.”

But he’s so wrong. Madison almost killed me, three times. If he really wanted me dead, I probably would be. I don’t know how to defend myself properly. I do things without thinking them through.

“I don’t know how … but I led Madison to that mountain,” I whisper. “He as good as killed my dad, and those kids.”

“The avalanche was an accident waiting to happen,” Montoyo says, shrugging. “With all this strange weather we’re getting—there’s not usually so much snow. People who climb mountains take great risks.”

I’d never really considered the risks. All I can remember is how badly I needed to know what happened to my father, who killed him.

I feel a distant sense of regret, thinking that if I’d just ignored those postcards, or Arcadio’s letter, my father might still be alive.

“Josh,” Montoyo says, “one of the rescue workers returned your possessions.” He hands me the iPod, my regular cell phone, and a watch. I take them, hardly looking at them as I mumble my thanks. “Was there anything else?” Montoyo asks, with care. “Did your father give you anything?”

I stare at Montoyo, make my decision.

He’s not getting his hands on that bracelet.

“He didn’t know me,” I say blandly. “Why would he give me anything?”

Montoyo examines my eyes closely, then nods a few times. He pats my back again. “Okay, Josh. Take it easy. We’re gonna take care of you. And your mother too. We’re gonna take good care of you now.”

He leaves me then, and I lie back on the bed, wincing at the constant pain that spikes through my entire body.

The Bracelet of Itzamna lies safely hidden under my mattress. No one knows I have it. Except maybe Ixchel. She knows I’m holding something back. When we told Montoyo about how we found my father, and what he told us, I was careful to point out that Dad didn’t offer to let us touch the Bracelet. As far as Montoyo knows, the Bracelet is still somewhere on the volcano. Discarded, lost in a deep fissure of ice.

Maybe Arcadio sent me up the mountain to get the Bracelet. If I’d never showed up, my dad might have stayed there forever, never remembering who he was. Or maybe he’d have died in an avalanche. The Bracelet is the only part of any of this that makes any sense to me. Until I decide what to do with it, that bracelet is mine.





44


The day of Mom’s arrival from England, I’m a bundle of nerves. I know I’m in big trouble with Mom—and I can’t blame her. I’ve made sure not to actually lie to her in any of my texts or phone messages, but I know her well enough to know that she’ll see it as deception.

She flies into Veracruz after a connecting flight from Mexico City. The doctor on the mountain-rescue team won’t give permission for me to leave, so Montoyo goes to pick her up. He promises to ease her gently into the whole Ek Naab situation.

“I’ll drive,” he tells me. “We’ll talk about your father, how he came to the city, how you followed in his path. Everything. I’ll tell her the whole history.”

“She won’t believe you,” I say.

Montoyo looks impassive. “We’ll see.”

At that moment I can’t imagine how anyone could accuse Montoyo of making anything up. His face always has this drawn, somber quality. His eyes have a weary gaze, like he’s seen and heard too much, like he knows there’s more to come.

I don’t know exactly what he tells Mom, but when they arrive, around ten at night, Mom seems not only exhausted but in shock. She says nothing when she first sees me, just hugs me for a long, long time.

When finally she faces me, her eyes glisten with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I should have listened to you.”