We stare at each other. I say nothing.
She continues. “Those agents haven’t found your father to this day. But they’ll get to hear about it. They can’t be complete idiots. They know that the Bracelet has some strange energy and power. They want it. If they find out that your father has died here … they’ll come looking for you.”
She’s right. Ixchel must notice the anxiety on my face, because she adds quickly, “It might be okay. Susannah and I told them that your name is Josh Gonzalez, and that your father’s name was Pedro. It’s going to be in all the local papers. No foreigners were killed, so hopefully no one outside Mexico will be interested in the story.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Don’t those intelligence bureaus sweep all the news?”
“Even so, they’d be looking for the name ‘Josh Garcia’ or ‘Andres Garcia.’”
Doubtfully, I say, “I guess.”
“And there’s been no sign of Madison. If he survived, he made it off the mountain without anyone noticing him.”
“No one noticing the guy who started the avalanche? I doubt that.” I pause. “Or he could be dead.”
“We can hope. But at least now, the Sect can’t find us. Not so easily, anyway. Because I found their tracer.”
I’m astounded.
“When Madison found us in Tlacotalpan, I really couldn’t figure it out. I guessed he’d been following in a car. But when he tracked us to the mountain … it had to be something more. And then I remembered—your fight with those girls in the caves.”
I’m open-mouthed. “They planted something … ?”
Ixchel nods. “At first I thought—our clothes. But we changed out of them for the climb. It had to be something we’d carried since we met them.”
At the same time, we both say, “The Ziploc bag …”
“I took it off you in the ambulance,” she says. “It was a tiny micro-transmitter, stuck to the outside of the bag. I threw it away. It’s somewhere on the road now. Near Orizaba.”
I take a few seconds to absorb this.
“So … you have the Bracelet.” It’s not a question, but a statement. I try to return Ixchel’s steady gaze, but I can’t.
Eventually, I cave in. “Yeah.”
“I won’t tell.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s why we were there. Isn’t it? Arcadio predicted that you would find the Bracelet. ‘You must suspect that your fate is intertwined with the Mayan prophecy of 2012.’”
I look away for a second, then back, to find her eyes burrowing into mine. I can see we’re on the same page now. She’s reached the same conclusion as I have—Arcadio must be a time traveler. I say quietly, “You’re pretty smart.”
“You too, Josh. I know you’re planning something. Whatever it is, you need me to help you.”
“I can’t. It’s probably dangerous. It may be my fate; doesn’t have to be yours, though.”
“Hey, don’t forget we’re promised to each other,” she says, attempting a grin.
“Don’t. Don’t talk about that.”
She swallows. “I know. It’s all a little … what’s the word … ?”
“Creepy.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of us speaks again for a long while. I tear Ixchel’s pink doughnut in two and chew my half slowly.
“Montoyo wants us all to go live in Ek Naab,” she says.
“Good for him. Still telling everyone what to do.”
“Your mother says she won’t allow it. Not until you’re sixteen.”
“‘Course she won’t. That’s just asking too much.”
“So what will you do?”
“We’ll be okay. I’ll get stronger, train harder. I’ll take care of her.”
Softly, Ixchel says, “But, Josh … the Sect wants to hurt you. Remember what that ‘Professor’ woman said. They want you for their experiments on the Bakab gene.”
“They’ll have to catch me first.”
“But … you’re all alone.”
Hearing Ixchel say this, I feel a sudden rush of fear. I sense my argument collapsing.
“You could ask Montoyo to send someone to you.”
“What … ?”
“To protect you. Someone from the city, to be, like, your bodyguard.”
“You’re right,” I say, seriously impressed by the suggestion. “That could work.”
“I’m glad you like the idea. So, actually, Benicio already asked Montoyo to send him. He’s gonna send Benicio to be a student at Oxford.”