The Crystal Skull of Xochilenque

by Gemini Explorer

Zanga shaman Xma'Klee brings Challenger a mysterious crystal skull that may date back to ancient Mexico and the explorers visit the dreaded Tecamaya city of Xochilenque to discover its secrets and to look for treasure. Will they find riches, or be sacrificed on the altars of the savage tribe? Roxton must fight a bold foe in the arena and Ned proposes to Veronica.

NOTE:

This is a re-posting of, "The Crystal Skull" under a slightly different name due to a board glitch that changed the text of the original story for another. For some reason, the text of my tale, "The Crystal Skull" was changed to the text of, "Challenger's Birthday", which remains posted also under its own name. A reader alerted me to the issue, but the story has been posted beyond the limit during which I could edit and correct that. I have decided to rename the story, "The Crystal Skull of Xochilenque" to enable it to be posted as a new story. Only the title has changed, to enable re-posting. Thanks to those who have enjoyed this story and to the man wanting to read it, who discovered the error. Reviews are welcome, and those already posted before the story mysteriously altered are visible under the original title. To the critic who thinks I write romances and judges my fics accordingly: I do NOT write romances. Although I do have some intensely romantic scenes in my stories, they are basically jungle adventure tales with scenes where the characters bond intimately as part of the stories. This Fic is Rated Mature. It has scenes with nudity, violence, and sex. There may be limited adult language. This is an especially important Fic in my series, as it contains scenes referred to in other stories, and it tells how the adventurers obtained a fantastic fortune in treasure in the dreaded Tecamaya city of Xochilenque. It is also where Ned proposed to Veronica. Xochilenque is pronounced as "Sho-shay-LEN-kay". I created it by combining the names of the Aztec city of Xochimilco and the Mayan Palenque. Keep in mind that in my stories, there are three couples in the Treehouse: the Roxtons (John and Marguerite), the Challengers (George and Finn), and the Malones (Ned and Veronica). All are engaged, although George thinks he'll have to face the ordeal of divorce from Jessie, not knowing yet that she died of flu in 1921. To understand G&F as a couple, read, "Challenger's Birthday" or click on my board name and read my Profile. All of my stories are also listed beneath my Profile. There are about 30 of them.

The Crystal Skull of Xochilenque

By

Gemini Explorer

Snick! The hammer of Finn's Smith & Wesson .38 fell, and she noted with satisfaction that her sight picture didn't waver. She was "dry-firing" at a nail on the wall of the Treehouse, checking her steadiness of aim with the unloaded revolver.

She laid it now on the table where she sat on the veranda, with bottles of nitro powder solvent and gun oil in front of her. Her 6.5mm Mannlicher-Schoenauer and Winchester M-92 .44 carbine were already cleaned, resting in the rifle rack in the living room behind her. She had carefully selected these arms from the collection salvaged from slavers whom the explorers had recently killed, along with guns remaining from other expeditions that had perished on the plateau. (e.g., see the TV episode, "Suspicion.")

Finn swung the cylinder of her Military and Police Model S&W out to the left, checked that the extractor rod moved smoothly, and ran a final clean flannel patch down the five-inch barrel, to remove any excess oil remaining in the bore.

Noticing motion in the room behind her, she saw her 'big sister" walking toward the kitchen. "Hey, Vee!" she called. "Did you finish making that limeade yet?"

Veronica smiled to herself, knowing what Finn's next question would be. "Why?" she asked innocently.

"Will you bring me some?" the younger girl asked.

"Hey, you don't have legs?" Veronica teased. "Do I look like a waitress to you?"

Finn grinned. "Yeah, sort of. I've heard that cocktail waitresses wear outfits like that. I hear they get good tips, too!"

"Just a minute, Smarty Pants. I was going to bring some out, anyway. I want to ask you something, too."

Veronica set a silver tray with a chilled pitcher of fruit juice and two glasses on the table and pulled up a chair. "I'll take some to Challenger in the lab in a few minutes," she offered.

"Don't bother. I'll do it. I'm almost finished here."

"Afraid that I'll make a move on your man?" razzed Veronica.

"No, Vee. I just feel it's my responsibility to look after George. He may need me in the lab, anyway. Hey! Did you just see something move back in the jungle, on the river path? Get George's big binocular off the bookcase and take a look. I still have powder solvent and oil on my hands. If I get any on those lenses or the solvent damages the leather covering, George will probably paddle my cute little bottom. You know how he likes to take care of his things."

Veronica got the Carl Zeiss 10X50 binocular, adjusted the focus for her eyes and the distance and began scanning the trail. "Were you serious?" she asked. "Would you really let Challenger spank you if he got mad?"

"I was just being facetious," Finn answered. "If he ever did get really mad at me, he'd probably just give me the silent treatment. If I did something truly awful, he might even tell me to move back into my room. But that isn't going to happen. I'd never provoke him that much. I'm not about to risk our relationship. See anything?"

"No. The reason why I asked is that two days ago, I heard a commotion out here and looked to see what was wrong. Challenger had you firmly over his lap, and you were definitely getting spanked. I was trying to decide if I should say anything when you started giggling and said, 'Okay, that's enough! I'll do it!' Then, you took off the almost nothing that you had on and started -"

Finn glared furiously at the other woman and demanded, "Vee, how COULD you? How long did you stand there, staring? Who else have you told? Ned? Marguerite?"

"I swear, Finn, just you," stammered Veronica. "No way would I tell anyone else. I'm so embarrassed. But by the time I was sure that you two were just playing around, you were already doing...that...and I was just sort of transfixed. When I realized what I was doing, I felt like a Peeping Thomasina and went back to bed. But I couldn't sleep, thinking about what I'd seen. Do men really like that?"

"I'd say that 'like' understates their reaction. I've done that with other guys in the past and heard other girls talk about it, and none of us ever got any complaints from it. If you want a man's undivided attention, that's a good way to get it. Some chicks trade that service for gifts or dinner out at a nice restaurant. I'd rather just do it out of love, so that I don't feel like a whore afterwards. If I keep my guy happy, he'll do nice things for me, anyway. And the look on George's face makes it worthwhile. I'm thrilled to know that I can give him that much pleasure. I love him so much...Are you SURE that you didn't tell anyone else, you...VOYEUR!?"

"I swear! But what do you really DO? Do you think Ned might like that? Once he got over the initial shock of what I was doing?"

"I'm sure he'd love it, Vee. Get a peeled banana later today, and I'll coach you. I know some good tongue tricks. Be sure that you don't break the banana unless it's really ripe, though, or it means that you're not being gentle enough. Technique is the key, not pressure. You don't always have to go deep, either. Use light, swirling tongue motions, like you've seen me do, eating ice cream, or licking cake icing off of a stick. Are you sure that you don't see anything down there? I know I saw something more than the breeze moving that foliage."

"No. Wait: some Zanga just walked out of the jungle... It's Assai and several warriors. Wow! Get this: Xma'Klee and Sa'eera are with them! It must be something important. Clean off your hands and go get Challenger. If possible, a man should greet Xma'Klee. He's a very important dignitary. And he's brought the chief's favorite wife, too. Something is definitely up."

Finn quickly loaded her .38, holstered it, washed her hands in the kitchen, and started toward the lab.

Veronica noticed that there were only a few bananas left on the counter. She selected two and took them to her room, blushing furiously.

The Layton lass put the bananas aside on her dresser and rummaged through the closet. She decided that it would be nice if she wore a dress, and she and the other Treehouse women had been busy making them of late, mainly in a style that Finn said was called a "sun dress" in her time. It seemed ideal for tropical evenings, and Veronica wanted to show Assai how one looked. Some were actually called slip dresses, for their resemblance to that inner garment.

She heard Finn running back up the stairs and called out to her, suggesting that they both dress for the Zanga visit. It would be an excuse to spruce up, adding an elegant touch to their usually uneventful social life.

"I'm 'way ahead of you, Vee!" answered the other woman, popping her head in to see what "Vee" was wearing.

She caught Veronica in white string bikini briefs, changing. The elder "sister" held up two dresses, one dark lime green, the true green of a ripe lime, not the yellow-green so often called "lime green". The other was powder blue, slit up the sides at the bottom for three inches in a tapering cut that flared at the hem.

After a quick -if animated- discussion, Veronica pulled on the blue one, and combed her hair as Finn dashed for her and Challenger's room to freshen up.

When Veronica walked in a few moments later, Finn was stripped to a lacy beige thong, furiously brushing her hair. She had laid out a dark green slip dress and tan sandals, wishing that they had a means of crafting high-heeled shoes. For this summer casual occasion, the sandals probably went better with the dress, anyway, and Veronica agreed when queried, although she had never worn high heels, and Finn had had only a few opportunities. Veronica watched as Finn shrugged into the light cotton dress and fastened slim gold loops in her ear lobes. Finn noted that Veronica had chosen white pearl earrings and sandals like her own.

Both girls looked one another over, and passed each other a bottle of Challenger's citrus-based cologne. They agreed that Challenger and the Zanga were in for a visual treat when they saw them and smiled at the idea that Zanga tribesmen would know what was chic for a summer evening in white society in a time over a hundred years in the future! But they did want to see Sa'eera and Assai's reaction...

Challenger burst in as Finn buckled her sandals, and was taken aback momentarily to find Veronica in the room. The latter excused herself and went to call up the elevator as Challenger changed into clean khaki trousers that Finn had ironed and a fresh shirt. He ran a comb through his hair and Finn pronounced him fit for appearance in polite jungle company. She had cut his hair and trimmed his ginger beard just two days before.

He took in Finn's attire, noting that her skirt ended at mid-thigh and joked that he didn't know whether to chide her for wearing what looked to men of his generation like an abbreviated slip, or to praise her for looking like a fantasy houri from the Islamic concept of Paradise. "Where is your brassiere, young lady?" he wanted to know, realizing that there was no way she could be wearing one with the spaghetti string straps of this dress.

"Lover," Finn said, hoping that he wasn't going to be a Victorian prig at this point, "this is meant to be worn braless. Vee isn't wearing one, either. It wouldn't look right with this style."

"Scandalous," retorted Challenger. "I wonder what has become of my civilized standards when I see women dressed like that and thrill to the occasion instead of telling my mate to go put on some clothes. Are you sure this was proper, at least in your time?"

Finn told him that all was well, and had him fasten her gold chain necklace, and they walked hand-in-hand to the elevator, where they met an impatient Veronica.

On the ground, they shut off electric power to the security fence as the Zanga party arrived, and George hailed Xma'Klee and opened the wooden gate to admit their guests. Veronica and Finn stood demurely behind him, watching the Zanga girls.

The two men exchanged grave greetings and Challenger bade their guests enter the compound. Xma'Klee turned and instructed his warriors to find a suitable place to pitch camp well back from the fence, telling them that he would soon send Assai or Sa'eera with water to fill their drinking skins. The party made its way to the elevator, and the men and Finn went up, leaving Veronica and the two Zanga beauties to hug one another and begin chattering about their respective raiment and the flowers in the visitors' hair.

When the elevator had gone back for the others and all were assembled in the living room, Veronica, as hostess, asked Finn to join her in preparing refreshment. The Zanga girls asked to help, and Challenger led Xma'Klee to the table in the center of the large room. He noticed that Xma'Klee carried a stout leather bag in addition to his bedroll and weapons. When Xma'Klee set his bow, quiver, and other gear on a couch, he retained the heavy bag as he joined Challenger at the table. The men began exchanging formal greetings and courtesy talk as the girls worked in the kitchen.

Finn and Sa'eera soon appeared with fruit juice and bowls of berries and melons, as Veronica and Assai took packages of meat, fruit, and water to the elevator, for delivery to the men who had remained below. Having served, the girls started to withdraw, but Xma'Klee asked Challenger to allow the ladies to join them, if that was permissible under their customs.

"The girls may as well remain with us, George Challenger. It will save us summoning them from the kitchen when we need refills, and it has been a long journey for Sa'eera. She should rest, and they can join us until the others return. Then, they will doubtless join one another and prattle away while we speak of something that I feel sure will draw your interest. In the meantime, please tell your woman that she is lovely, and that I am smitten by her garment. Might she make such dresses for my wives?

Finn blushed, and replied through her man, as was Zanga custom, that she was honored by such praise from the Great Shaman. She poured the juice into gracefully fluted glasses chosen from those that Marguerite had selected, as with all their dishes, with exquisite taste and an unlimited budget. The group made small talk until the other girls returned and the women joined one another near the kitchen.

Xma'Klee said, "Now that we have passed time in polite greeting, may I address the occasion of our visit? But first, where are Lord and Lady Roxton?"

Challenger cleared his throat and delicately explained that although the Roxtons were considered a couple, they had not formally married, inasmuch as a priest of their faith was unavailable on the Plateau. But they were hunting, and were expected back at any time.

"It is well, for a primary reason why I have come is to give Ma-Greet a gift from mighty Jacoba, King of all the Zanga. Jacoba wishes to express his joy and appreciation for Ma-Greet having taught his youngest wife to dance for him in an erotic manner that he has not seen before, but which brings the chief much pleasure." He took an ornate silver box from the heavy leather bag at his feet, and opened it. "You know Ma-Greet well, George Challenger. Behold this item."

He opened the lid of the exquisite antique box. Within, on a bed of gold velvet, reposed an emerald of great beauty, rectangular, beveled slightly at the corners, and cut by a master gem carver. It was mounted in a gold frame with attached thin gold necklace, and was as fine an item as could be obtained in Cartier's or DeBeers' showrooms in Paris, New York, or London. Xma'Klee smiled devilishly and asked, "Do you feel that Jacoba chose something that might possibly please Ma-Greet?" It was well known that Marguerite Krux was enchanted by a lust for jewels, especially emeralds.

"Ah, yes," smiled Challenger. "I think it not unlikely that Marguerite will find this token of Jacoba's appreciation quite pleasing. I think I know now what Marguerite and Finn were doing in that hut when they banned men while they 'discussed 'women's business' the afternoon that we left your village on the occasion of our last visit. You say that the girls learned a new dance, so impressive as to be worth such a gift? Finn has demonstrated to me her own talents in this area, and if Marguerite has taught Sa'eera to move as well, an emerald is indeed warranted if Jacoba is pleased."

"Ahoy, the Treehouse!" came a soprano voice from below. "Don't shoot! It's us, coming up. We killed a deer, or rather I did. Roxton just lent his strength in lugging it home." Marguerite...as if cued to appear!

Quickly taking in the situation, Marguerite rushed Roxton upstairs and the two cleaned up quickly. Marguerite insisted that John wear a tuxedo with white jacket, despite his protest that he would feel like a penguin in it and look absurd to the other men.

"No, you won't, John. You'll have me on your arm. Their only emotion will be raw jealousy. Now, get dressed like a good boy. I'll see you in a few moments. If you insist on wearing a gun, use that Colt .32 automatic. Stick it in your cummerbund under the jacket and no one will see it." And she rushed to her room.

Roxton found her twenty minutes later, her hair up, ruby earrings dangling from her lobes, wearing a deep red dress that he thought was probably dark crimson or some sort of burgundy. He knew better than to ask, lest he get a lecture in the subtle differences in hues of red. The dress was made of a slightly thicker version of the smooth fabric that Challenger had devised to replace silk or satin in the lingerie that the women sewed, and it molded to Marguerite. When she moved, the dress moved, as if it had muscles of its own. At least, the skirt was knee-length, he mused, not halfway up to her rear, like what the blondes were wearing. Not that he really objected to that sight, but Challenger must be embarrassed. This was, after all, only a couple of decades after the death of the prim Queen Victoria. The Roaring Twenties were just arriving, and remained considerably more conservative than the 21st Century of Finn's day!

"Are you going to wear that?" he asked, before catching himself.

"Yes, John, I certainly am. What, pray tell, is wrong with it? It's all I have ready that will eclipse Finn in her slutty little slip dress. That's what I have to beat. Veronica is just about as sweet as she is sexy in that powder blue number, but Finn is competition. Her pal Vee is still a little wet behind the ears, socially, and Finn has become quite sophisticated."

"It, ah, sort of moves when you do. All over. The men are going to get eyestrain looking, and the other girls are going to become catty and jealous."

She patted his cheek and kissed him. "Congratulations, Darling; you just managed to back out of the doghouse before you walked all the way in and shut the door. Here, give me that bow tie. We need to get downstairs."

"Do I really have to wear a tie? I always feel that I'm being strangled by the things."

"Yes, this is a special occasion." And Marguerite's nimble fingers soon had it in place.

"Was that the elevator I heard? Is Malone back yet"? This from Roxton…

"Yes, he brought back some icky butterflies from his little jaunt. Some are really pretty, almost jewel-like. Challenger is showing them to Xma'Klee, who said that they're no good to eat, and why was Malone wasting energy chasing them. I'd love to hear George's explanation to that savage as to why intelligent men chase butterflies. Or, not. Veronica and Finn then took Ned in tow. Finn is laying out his tux while Veronica cleans him up. You won't be the only man looking like a penguin tonight. Assai is acting hostess until we get downstairs; she knows where everything is."

"Have you even got anything on under that dress?" Roxton ventured. It crossed his mind that the color that he was fumbling for was probably garnet.

"Yes, John, a matching thong (tanga) that avoids panty lines. That's why you don't see anything. I'll teach Finn to wear a dress like that without giving me advance warning!" And she took his arm and they went downstairs.

Finn had rejoined the company after a quick conference with Veronica, and she and Sa'eera were talking. She knew now that Marguerite was to receive an emerald, and the girls laughed about Jacoba's response to Sa'eera and Assai's teasing that he should send Marguerite a gift after seeing Sa'eera's "Dance of the Sand Peoples". (Arabs.)

"Husband was amused at our suggestion, and called our bluff," admitted Sa'eera. "Assai helped him to select a stone and setting that Ma-Greet would like. I can't wait to see her face when she gets it. The only other reason we came is that Xma'Klee wants to show George Challenger some old glass head."

Marguerite walked up just in time to overhear the part about the "glass head", and her ears pricked up. She made a note to stay close to Challenger in case it might turn out to be one of the crystal skulls of legend.

Finn took a careful look at the Roxtons, excused herself, and ran back up to their room, where she grabbed George's expensive tweed jacket from the closet. It was the best she could do to salvage the fashion crisis. Damn Marguerite, but Finn had to admit that she was beautiful, and John was positively gorgeous! "Splendidly handsome", she mentally corrected herself, heading back downstairs.

Soon, all were assembled in the living room, with dinner heating on the stove.

Sa'eera announced that she would turn 19 on her next birthday, in two months, and invited the explorers to a celebration in the Zanga village. They congratulated her, promising to attend, barring an emergency.

Then, Challenger and Xma'Klee stood at the head of the table and asked for quiet. When all looked expectantly at the guest of honor, he took out the small silver box and motioned for "Ma'Greet" to come to him. When the surprised woman did so, he opened the box and made a flowery speech about how Jacoba had sent her this small token of his appreciation for teaching Sa'eera the Dance of the Sand Peoples. The men looked blank, until Finn whispered loudly, "Belly dancing. And, is she good at it!"

Marguerite blushed crimson as the others laughed and congratulated her for her talent and for imparting it to the chief's youngest wife.

"Marguerite will always find a way to get jewels," laughed Veronica. "Go on, Marguerite! Let John put it on for you!"

And Roxton fastened the golden chain around his love's neck, to general applause.

She gave a brief speech of gratitude, fingering the emerald. "I really didn't deserve this. Xma'Klee, Assai, please tell the Chief that he does me much honor, and that I am made humble, but am delighted with his kindness."

Soon, dinner was ready, and they served a choice of fish, jungle fowl, or venison, warmed up from the electric refrigerator that Challenger had recently devised. "Someday," he had bragged at the time, "all refrigerators will be electric and there will be no need for ordinary iceboxes. If only I could get home and present my wonderful inventions to the public!"

Yams, spinach, and squash from the garden accompanied the meal, and Roxton opened two bottles of their dwindling stock of fine Bordeaux wine to celebrate the occasion of Marguerite being presented with the emerald and with the Chief's good wishes.

Afterward, coffee was served, and Challenger boasted that he and Finn had high hopes for the coffee bushes that they'd planted from the late Prof. Summerlee's stock of botanical samples. "I think the soil and the altitude are right, and we should eventually be able to harvest our own coffee beans," he concluded. That announcement brought a round of applause, and the ladies served dishes of fruit: oranges, tangerines, grapes, and pineapple.

After, the girls, save for Marguerite, went up to Veronica's room. They had been whispering to one another and giggling, but Roxton had taken no particular notice. Now, when Sa'eera dashed down the stairs and appropriated most of the bananas from the kitchen, he lifted an eyebrow in mild curiosity. He stood with Marguerite, who was pointedly lingering near George and Xma'Klee, waiting for the medicine man to broach the subject of the skull.

Sa'eera went shyly to Marguerite and said, "Ma'am, would you like to join us upstairs? We're going to, ah..." and she colored and motioned Marguerite forward and whispered in her ear.

Marguerite blushed slightly now, too, and said, "Thank you, Darling. It was kind of you to ask, but please tell Finn and Veronica that I think I already know how to manage that quite well. I'll check with Finn later, just to be sure that she hasn't managed to think of anything I haven't. But my place now is with Lord Roxton, and I am curious about something that the Great Shaman has brought."

"Okay, Ma'Greet. They said to ask. Thank you anyway, ma'am." And she turned to leave.

Something tripped in Marguerite's mind and she stopped Sa'eera. "Why did you call me 'ma'am'? I didn't know that you knew that English word."

"Did I do wrong, ma'am? Finn said that this was the term of respect for older ladies in your society, and that I should be sure to address you that way."

"Ah, no, Sa'eera. You have the word right. But you and I are friends. You should feel free to call me Marguerite. Maw-gew-reet, not Ma'Greet. Try, Darling. I'll help you to get it right."

"Marg-ra-reet?" But Sa'eera soon had the name right and pronounced it several times, delightedly, before she excused herself to take the bananas upstairs. Veronica was already at the railing, checking to see what had delayed her. She looked directly at Marguerite and gave a big grin before turning toward her room.

Challenger, Malone, and Roxton were all looking like men trying very hard not to laugh. Xma'Klee just looked puzzled. "All right, boys," said Marguerite, "go ahead and laugh. Just don't take all night." And she explained to Xma'Klee what had just happened.

"How old are Finn and Veronica?" wondered Roxton. "Twenty-two and twenty-four? Sometimes, they act like they're Sa'eera's age. But they are funny, Marguerite. Doubtless, you'll find some way to 'zing' them back. More coffee?" If anything might distract Marguerite from brooding about the other girls' prank, a good cup of prime Arabica coffee might do it. He was thankful that they'd found coffee bushes that earlier explorers had planted, the beans yielding a fine brew apparently identical to that sold in London as Columbia supremo grade. He hoped that Summerlee's seeds would produce as fine a coffee. And it would be a source of pride to Challenger and his helpers!

As much as Marguerite loved her coffee, somehow at this moment, it just didn't taste the way it usually did. By now her curiosity was getting the better of her. She wanted to see the skull that Xma'Klee had brought with him to show the explorers. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she stood up from her place and walked over to the table where Challenger and Xma'Klee were having a conversation.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you gentlemen in your conversation, but, Xma'Klee, might I inquire after the skull that Queen Sa'eera mentioned that you have brought to show us?" Marguerite asked respectfully, aware of the Great Shaman's pride and his powerful situation within the Zanga tribe. He stood next in rank to mighty Jacoba, himself!

Xma'Klee was all too familiar with Marguerite's interest in jewelry and ancient artifacts. He was actually counting on her expertise when he had decided to bring the skull to the explorers.

With a smile on his face, Xma'Klee nodded, "Yes I think we have had enough polite conversation for now, and the time has come for me to show you the second reason why I have come to you this day."

Xma'Klee stood to get the sturdy leather bag he had brought with him and which he had carefully set in a corner of the Treehouse. Roxton, Malone, Challenger and Marguerite gathered around their guest, full of suspense.

Out of the bag came an object wrapped in several leather cloths as protection. Slowly, Xma'Klee unwrapped the skull. When he removed the final cloth, no one could speak a word for a moment..

"Is that what I think it is?" Challenger asked of no one in particular.

"It's a Crystal Skull: it's an actual Crystal Skull," Marguerite said, her eyes lighting with high excitement.

In the hands of Xma'Klee lay a perfectly shaped skull, about the size of that of a small child. It was made of clear crystal quartz, and moreover, seemed to be made of one single piece of quartz. The detailing of the skull was near perfect, as if it was an actual transparent human skull that lay before the explorers. Even the suture lines were easily discernible and the teeth were as perfect as if carved by a dental artist using a laser, had they known of such things as lasers.

Marguerite picked up the skull to take a closer look. When she turned it slightly, a ray of light fell on it, and it seemed to light up as if being on fire. The eye sockets lit up even more, and gave the skull an even more mysterious, almost eerie, look.

"I've only ever seen one like it before," Challenger said, "in the British Museum, in London."

"There's another in a museum in Paris that I came in rather close contact with," Marguerite said mysteriously. "But that's a story I will tell another time," she quickly added, after seeing the questioning looks the others gave her.

Breaking the renewed silence, Challenger asked Xma'Klee where he had found this wonderful artifact.

"Some Zanga warriors out hunting came across a cave they had never seen before," the royal witch doctor explained. "They decided to see if any edible mushrooms grew inside this cave, where they found a niche. Inside it, hidden away from plain sight, they found this skull. Because they did not know its significance, but thought it might be important, they brought it to me. Unfortunately, I have never seen anything like this before, so I could not tell them anything. Chief Jacoba suggested that I bring it to you, together with the gift for Ma'Greet. I now come to you and ask you what this skull means. What could its purpose be?"

"I really couldn't tell you anything substantial," Challenger said, "but I'm sure that Marguerite can. She's quite the expert in ancient artifacts, and she has already admitted to having been in close contact with one before." He looked expectantly at his brunette heiress friend.

"Well, Marguerite, can you tell us anything about this skull?" Roxton asked. "And be honest. Don't hold anything back. This may be a very important item that could prove dangerous. It looks almost otherworldly!"

"All right, hold your horses," she said. "I will tell you everything I know, but that isn't much, really".

"Oh, I'm pretty sure you know more than all of us put together," Malone said, a smug grin on his face. He rather enjoyed seeing the secretive Englishwoman looking a little uneasy. He had not forgotten her frequent cruelty to him in months past, before she had begun to mellow.

"The first that Europeans knew of such items," she began, "was after the Spanish conquered the Aztec civilization in central Mexico. That was from 1519 until about 1522, and was among the most remarkable military achievements of all time.

"The Aztecs were obsessed with spilling blood in sacrifice to their many gods, who would otherwise end the world. They sacrificed by cutting out victims' hearts while four priests held the hapless person down over a stone altar atop their ziggurat-style pyramids. They ate some of the dead, and other corpses went to their king, Montezuma's, zoo, to feed predators there. Bernal Diaz del Castillo, who wrote the only original account of the Cortes expedition, told us that their altars were filthy with dried blood, and that flies were everywhere, and that the hideous priests' hair was often matted with blood.

"The Aztec wrote in symbols equivalent to Egyptian hieroglyphics, on paper rolls called codexes, or codices. The Catholic priests set out to destroy the temples of the Sun and the Moon in Tenochtitlan and other structures throughout the country. These efforts burned most of their codexes, and the remaining ones are priceless artifacts, most on display in European universities and museums.

"I can tell you more, and I know that Lord Roxton can tell you much about the course of the Conquest, which he has studied at Sandhurst (the Royal Military Academy, equivalent to West Point in the USA) and elsewhere. But what you ask about is skulls. Aztecs kept large skull racks on the front of many of their temples, and they were filled with real skulls of their victims. Their priests also had skulls of pure rock crystal, quartz.

"We know little of their function, but they were probably used for meditation and quite likely for display in dark or smoky rooms, where they could be lighted internally and perhaps appear to speak, especially if those viewing had taken hallucinogenic drugs."

"Only a few of these skulls have been found, and they probably were very difficult to make and restricted to use by high priests, maybe to divine the future or in worship ceremonies. Colors vary from pale green to milky to lavender. We just don't know more, and the Bishop of Yucatan joined his brethren further north in ordering the similar Maya codexes destroyed as implements of the Devil.

"The value of one of these things must be astronomical; in terms of human culture, they are priceless. Perhaps as more excavations of Aztec and Maya ruins take place, we may learn precisely how they were employed. We do know that they reflect light internally, and that some emit energy through some unknown means. Frankly, a museum director with whom I spoke privately told me that he was frightened by the aura the skull his institution has gives off. It changes colors, sometimes for no reason at all. and reflections of items not even in the room appear in its eyes. He said that this is absolutely uncanny. He had no idea how this hard crystal was carved. Knives can't scratch it. No metal tools seem to have been used: the Aztecs didn't even have steel. Look how it's been highly polished, probably by increasingly fine abrasives."

She was interrupted by peals of laughter from Veronica's room on the floor above.

"What ARE those girls doing up there?" Challenger said, irritated.

"You probably don't want to know, "grinned Marguerite."George, lets' take this skull to the lab. Feel how heavy it is, for the size? Wait. Let me hold it over the candle here on the table. Look! See how light enters from the base and reflects all over the skull? It refracts as if there are internal prisms, although how anyone could carve within it baffles me, and anyone else who has published about these things."

Challenger took the skull and held the foramen magnum, the hole through which the spine would pass on a human, over the candle. He studied carefully the way the light moved as he manipulated the skull. "Look how the zygomatic arches function as light pipes!" he exclaimed.

"The zygo whats?" queried Ned Malone. But Challenger, now deep in thought, ignored him.

"The lab," he muttered, and led the party down a level to his workplace, where he turned on lights and cleared a place on a table. He moved a scale over, set its balance, and placed the skull on it. "Hmmm,", he observed, "This little wonder weighs eleven pounds, eight ounces. Lets' see the measurements."

Moving to a selection of tools to one side, he selected a tape measure and had Roxton hold the skull as he carefully measured it, dictating the figures to Marguerite, who took up a notepad and pen.

"Height, five inches, length seven inches, width, again, five inches. "

"What concerns Jacoba," said Xma'Klee. "is that the shaman whom I replaced last year and who seeks to overthrow Jacoba, is said to have a similar skull and to be telling a nearby branch of our tribe that he has supernatural powers. He even speaks of visits by beings from beyond the stars, whom he says left such skulls as evidence of their prowess and to empower those whom they favored. He has an old codex that speaks of such things, and says that the gods have chosen him as the next Paramount Chief of the Zanga, and that his rule will eventually extend even beyond the Plateau. He is believed to be hiding in or near an ancient city that was founded by refugees from Mexico who fled the Spanish. Most were Aztec, but they had with them some Maya, who were skilled astronomers and who measured time in units they called 'bak'tun'.

"They eventually merged, calling themselves the Tecamaya, and elements of both tribes' gods and concepts were incorporated in their faith. They ruled this Plateau for about two hundred years, when a coalition of other tribes, including those who would become Zanga, overcame them. Some vanished, said to practice their sacrifices and occult acts somewhere in the mountains to the east. Ruins of a city founded by them are known there. It is said to be rich in treasure, and to have scrolls of these codexes that tell what became of them following their flight from Mexico."

Challenger became aware of someone standing beside him, and Finn set down a tray with cups and a pot of tea. Sa'eera was with her.

"George, we noticed that you left your cups upstairs, so we made tea and came to see what's going on. Shall I pour for everyone? Xma'Klee, would you like to try this hot beverage? With sugar, it tastes very good."

Challenger said, a bit irritably, "Weren't you giving some sort of demonstration upstairs that was amusing you girls?" But he gratefully accepted his tea and showed Xma'Klee how to spoon in sugar and stir.

"Yes," Finn admitted, "but I was basically done, and I missed you. Assai and Vee wanted to talk about making some dresses, so Sa'eera and I came looking for you." She reached out and took his hand, leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He was touched, and his countenance softened. He lifted Finn's hand, kissed it, and quickly recounted the gist of what they had learned and gave her the dimensions and weight of the skull. Finn lifted it and rotated it, turning the base toward the ceiling light. "Whoa!", she exclaimed. "look how light plays around in this thing. Remember when you told me about different binocular prisms? Roof and Porro? The Abbe-Koenig and Pechan roof prisms? I think this thing has internal prisms. I can see the whole spectrum of colors in here. She turned to Sa'eera, who looked and quickly backed away, lifting a hand to her mouth. "Lover, what IS this?!" And she set it quickly down on the table.

"The mandible is separate, hinged with pins to the upper skull," Challenger mused, lifting it again. "The jaw moves. I daresay that a priestly scoundrel could make this thing appear to speak. No telling what it might have 'said'."

Marguerite was staring intently at the skull, and she became aware that goose bumps had appeared on her skin. She folded her arms, suddenly feeling chilled to the marrow within her bones.

Xma'Klee noticed and said," Sorceress, you are troubled. You see things here that we others do not. Speak. Tell us what evil lies within this strange apparition."

After another hour, the group in the lab broke up for the night, Xma'Klee going down to camp beside his warriors, the two royal Zanga girls staying together in a guest room down the hall from Veronica's suite.

Finn made sure that the electric fence was "on" before she and George went up to their room, and all retired for the night.

In bed, George felt Finn, sleeping as usual in just panties, cuddle against him and pulled her closer for a kiss.

"Now, Darling", he teased, "what on Earth had you girls in stitches earlier? What were you teaching them that was so funny? I was afraid to ask in public, knowing you and Veronica as I do."

Finn, glad that the shadows hid her blushing, told him, and George was intrigued.

"So, poor Malone has never had oral sex from his beloved jungle princess? I'd have thought that Veronica would be more earthy, having been raised where she was. Those Zanga girls are raised to please men, and even the Amazons might be expected to know most things, although their desire to control males probably limits their interest in satisfying a mate. By the way, Nicole (he used her real name mainly in tender moments or at times of danger), I must say that you are eminently qualified to instruct in such matters. You are the finest lover that I have had or hope to have. I mean physically. But you also mean so very much to me, otherwise. I love you, Sweetheart, with all my soul. I'm sorry if I seemed impatient when you came into the lab after all the laughing upstairs. We were just trying to concentrate on that damned skull, and I had hoped to have you with me. In the morning, we will see it again, and I think we will accept Xma'Klee's request to join him in seeking the source of it. Marguerite was certainly chilled by something, but if she sees a chance for riches in that ruined Tecamaya city, I think she, too, will join us. You'll go, I hope?"

"Sure, Genius. I've told you before when it was an issue: 'Whither thou goest, there will I go, also'. I hope that's an exact quote. But Ruth had nothing on me, Honey. I belong with my man. Look what happened the last time you tried to have adventures without me."

Challenger grimaced. Her words stung. It was true that Finn and Marguerite would never have been kidnapped by Burton's slavers had he not insisted on leaving them behind for what he thought was their own safety. (See, "A Night in th Lost World".)

"Very well then, 'Ruth', we're in this together. It saves me worrying what's happening to you, and I want you at my side. You shoot as well as Roxton, and I value your opinions more than you may know. Not to mention, I've gotten to where I feel deprived if you aren't in my bed at night, warming my body and my soul, making me laugh when I most need it. Darling, you are surely that woman whose 'price is above rubies', if you insist on quoting the Bible tonight!" He chuckled.

Finn, thrilled by this, entwined herself between his legs, pressing along his body, kissing passionately, then tenderly. And so, they drifted gradually off to sleep, caressing one another, talking until exhaustion claimed all consciousness.

Marguerite let John examine her leg, which she had injured when she'd stumbled against a bed leg. He dressed a deep scratch that was the only damage, apart from a forming bruise. The shin was an easily damaged area...

She refused to say more, telling him that she wanted to order her thoughts and would tell him and the others what was troubling her, in the morning. "I know things, but can't quite vocalize them yet," she explained. "Some images are still forming. But that blasted Skull is evil incarnate. I sense it. Please, John. Stay with me tonight. Damn appearances; everyone knows we're together, anyway. We may as well be honest about it. George and Nicole are certainly forthright."

So it was that the Roxtons shared her room, and he massaged her to the point that she found sleep. At one point, he woke to find her mumbling, her words too soft to distinguish. He felt her forehead, but it was normal temperature, and after he held her for awhile, she slept peacefully.

Marguerite stirred again about three AM, a kaleidoscope of scenes in vivid color tumbling across her dreaming mind. They settled into a mental movie, and she visualized a group of armored horsemen forming on a plain, huge mastiffs, war dogs, behind them, with lines of infantry backing their "horse". Their breastplates and crested helmets gleamed in the sun. Several men to one side lit the fuses to their arquebuses, ready to set the heavy muskets on forked rests and fire on command.

A tall man with a dark beard trotted his horse out in front, drew his sword, and turned to his cavalry. "Caballeros, we fight for the glory of God, with these savages' gold as our reward. We have no option, save victory. Defeat will see us sacrificed on these heathens' unholy altars. For our brothers, for King Charles, and for St. James, charge!" And he whirled his mount and went at a gallop toward the enemy.

A great roar rose from his troops as they spurred their horses. "Santiago!" The war cry screamed from a hundred throats, the long lances came down to the horizontal, and they followed their leader into battle, the screeling of native flutes and the incessant booming of sacrificial drums making Spanish hearts pound. Behind them came the awful mastiffs.

Facing them were hordes of howling Indians, clad in quilted cotton armor, their shields up, swinging long sword - clubs studded with obsidian blades, able to virtually decapitate a horse with one blow. Darts from their spear throwers (atlatls) leapt into the air, and the skins of jaguars and plumes of eagles danced and bobbed as they came on.

The cavalry were in among them now, and the din of combat was furious. One huge dog leapt at a native warrior as he attempted to throw a spear, severing his arm at the elbow in one horrible bite. BLAM! A volley from the arquebusiers rolled across the ranks, and a dozen Aztecs fell.

Clouds swirled, and Marguerite lost the vision. Mists veiled her senses, and then she beheld another scene, of a huge pyramid, a procession going up its steps, a vast assemblage of people below. She knew somehow that this vision was far more ancient than that which she had just witnessed.

Four priests, hair matted with human blood, seized the first of a line of prisoners and stretched him over a stone altar. Other priests and chieftains chanted an ominous dirge, and the head priest lifted a wooden-handled knife, its six-inch blade of volcanic glass, sharper than honed steel. The priest thrust his dagger into the chest of the sacrificial victim, slashed sideways, and reached into the living body of the unfortunate man, tearing his beating heart loose, and brandishing it aloft, showing it to the dignitaries behind him and to the masses below. He turned several times, ensuring that all saw his prize, then set the heart onto a fire burning in a stone receptacle at the head of the stained altar. In the background, on a pedestal topped with colorful flowers, rested a crystal skull, its eye sockets glowing as they beheld the sacrifice.

A shiver wracked Marguerite, and she sat bolt upright, her teeth chattering, her lungs heaving. She shrilled a cry of torment, and Roxton instantly woke, pulling her to his chest, holding her as sobs shook her body.

In a few moments, she calmed, and told him what she had dreamed.

"It was just a nightmare, Marguerite. You're quite safe. I'm here. Nothing will harm you, ever, as long as I breathe." He reached to the nightstand, and lifted a nickel-plated .455 revolver. "See?" he joked. "My legal representatives are here, Mssrs. Webley & Scott. They'll look after us."

In spite of herself, she managed a laugh, and clung to him. In time, they slept again, this time with no horrors to rouse them.

The sun was just well above the horizon when Finn nibbled at Challenger's ear. "Hey, Genius. I feel you stirring. Want to see what I was doing with those bananas yesterday? I bet I can make you wake up the rest of the way."

"I daresay that you can. I know your talents in that realm. You may as well take off your knickers. If you start that, one thing is going to lead to another. If you're half as good as you claim, that is." He chuckled.

"Lover, I can make a banana sit up and beg for my attention. What chance have you, a mere man?" She giggled, and slipped off her beige thong, dropping it on the nightstand. "How strong is your heart, George? Want to experience my best effort?"

Forty minutes later, spent, they perspired in each others arms, gasping for breath, whispering endearments.

Someone rapped knuckles on the door of their room. "Hallo, George?" came a female voice. "Pull out and send Nicole to the kitchen. If she doesn't help, I'll make everyone's breakfast and you'll have to eat the result. I want to have breakfast and take another look at that ...thing...that Xma'Klee brought." and Marguerite hurried downstairs, her heels clicking on the wooden steps.

"What the devil is that about, at this hour?" exclaimed Challenger. "You'd better clean up and get down there, Darling. She probably meant every word, as terrifying as that would be."

Finn gave a throaty laugh and kissed his mouth. "Don't worry, Lover. If she carbonizes the eggs, I'll clean out the skillet and make your breakfast, myself. But I'll go help her. She must be really eager, to be up at this hour." She slid out of bed, stumbling to a washbasin by the window.

"George? You know why she burns things? You should never have told her that her cooking 'carbonized' food. She thinks now that if she buries the remains, it'll eventually turn to diamonds. Carbon. See?" And Finn laughed at her own joke.

Three hundred meters from the Treehouse, Xma'Klee had sat up, just as Marguerite had done, at that precise moment, a few hours ago. He had looked directly at her room, knowing what she had just seen. He noticed that Aldebaran, the Devil Star, was high in the sky.

Now, he sat with his men, eating crocodile eggs and gnawing on the remains of an iguana that one of them had killed the day before, en route to the Treehouse. One was frying tortillas, flat cornmeal cakes, on a rock set atop glowing coals. This food had come to the Plateau via the Tecamaya, one of the few positive influences that they had provided.

He heard the rattling growl of a jaguar in the jungle beyond, and looked to be sure that the warriors had their spears at hand. Their thorn fence would be too flimsy if a big predator came after them with determination.

Xma'Klee reflected, gazing at the Treehouse, from which a plume of smoke now rose from the kitchen. He sensed that soon, the explorers would come to him to see the skull again, and that he would have allies in seeking its source. He needed Ma'Greet. Her man Roxton was useful backup, and George Challenger was a powerful medicine man. His knowledge would be useful, too. And he wanted Challenger to bring his female, Woman Who Kills. She was pleasant to gaze upon, and he had seen the results of her Winchester in battle. So lovely, he mused, yet so dangerous. George Challenger was fortunate to own the heart of such a one...

The explorers sat wth Xma'Klee in the lab, drinking tea, as Challenger and Finn tested the skull for hardness and tried to determine how it had been shaped, especially to having the light paths and prisms built into the interior. They used magnifying glasses, and tilted it every way, shining a flashlight into the foramen magnum. George even had Finn hold it over a Bunsen burner, stepping back and studying the reflections of the flame burning wildly within. He felt a cold sensation in his middle, however hard he tried to dismiss it as ludicrous superstition.

In the end, all agreed to help Xma'Klee find the ancient city and determine what else might lie there, and to learn what they could of the evil deposed shaman.

Sa'eera was intrigued, and begged Assai to plead with her mother, the Great Wife, to persuade Jacoba to let her go with the others. "Husband will hear the entreaties of his senior wife and favorite daughter," she explained. "Finn and Veronica can attend me in any female needs, and all of these people are honorable friends. They have powerful weapons. We would be safe."

Assai hugged her, and assented.

They were packed now, the Skull safely put away. But Marguerite knew where Xma'Klee kept it, and stared at the leather bag with unease.

They went down in the elevator, secured the fence, and turned on the power by remote control, protecting the property in their absence.

Roxton and Challenger took the lead, Malone in the rear, the women and the Zanga in the middle, under the cover of Marguerite's and Finn's rifles. They set out for the village, Veronica promising Sa'eera that she also would ask Jacoba for permission for his blonde wife to accompany them. As a member of the royal house, her presence might even prove useful in dealing with other Zanga villages.

And so, they set off into the jungle, launching canoes at the river landing. Had they known what was to come, they might have been less eager to face the unknown.

A few hours later the whole group entered the Zanga village. Chief Jacoba had been impatiently awaiting their arrival since sunrise, wanting to know everything Xma'Klee had learned about the skull. And also to know if the explorers had agreed to go on an expedition to seek the Tecamaya city, and the evil Shaman that was said to reside there, a Shaman that perhaps now was searching for his lost Crystal Skull.

Xma'Klee, Roxton, Malone and Challenger were invited back to Chief Jacoba's hut to talk about the skull. Xma'Klee informed Jacoba of what he had learned about the skull, Challenger filling in some of the holes of his story. Jacoba was happy to learn that all explorers had agreed they should go on an expedition to find out more of the skull's origin, and to find the lost Tecamaya city.

While the men were discussing the finer details of the upcoming expedition, Assai led the women to her mother, the Great Wife of Chief Jacoba. This was his first spouse, senior to the younger wives and sort of a mother figure to them. On their way, Assai had filled in Marguerite and Finn on Sa'eera's wish to join the expedition.

Finn found it a wonderful idea, for she was very fond of Sa'eera. She was like the kid sister Finn never had, and since one could never have enough family around them, she was happy for Sa'eera to tag along. It would also give her the opportunity to teach Sa'eera one or two things as well. Finn liked the idea of being a big sister, instead of being the kid sister herself. So she couldn't help but smile broadly at the idea.

Marguerite on the other hand, as expected, was much more reluctant to let Sa'eera go with them. It was just far too dangerous for a young girl like Sa'eera to go on an expedition like this, especially since she wasn't trained to use any kind of weapon at all. It would be foolish for her to come along, and besides, Chief Jacoba would never let his young wife go with them anyway. He was very fond of her, joking that her dyed blonde tresses were hair like the sun.

But both Assai and Veronica pleaded with Marguerite to change her mind, and Marguerite had to admit that having Sa'eera with them as a representative of the Zanga tribe, in their dealings with other tribes, could prove to be useful. So provided that Assai could convince her mother to talk to her husband about letting Sa'eera come along, and provided Jacoba would actually let his young wife go, Marguerite agreed to let Sa'eera join their expedition. Frankly, however she doubted that the matter would ever get Jacoba's permission, and she yielded mainly to please her friends.

Assai's mother was more easily persuaded than any of them had thought. She agreed with the arguments brought by Assai and Veronica, and she added to those arguments that it would be good experience for Sa'eera to learn more about life outside the Zanga village. The Great Wife had observed Sa'eera's inexperience in life and the things she was supposed to do as one of the Chief's wives. In her opinion, Sa'eera would benefit from spending some time outside the Zanga tribe, and from learning things from the wise white women standing before her, just as Assai had. And it was quite true that Sa'eera's presence might ease the expedition's path among the outlying Zanga villages and those of allied tribes. Of course, Xma'Klee's being there was about as good an aid as could be had, the Great Shaman standing next to Jacoba in the power structure of the Zanga tribe. He was both a political and military leader and the ultimate spiritual guide of his people.

Unfortunately, Chief Jacoba wasn't as easily convinced by his Great Wife and daughter Assai, as Sa'eera would have hoped. When all were about to have dinner together, Assai and her mother went into Jacoba's hut to plead on Sa'eera's behalf. Veronica and Finn quickly explained to the men that Sa'eera had expressed the wish to join their expedition, and that Assai and the Great Wife were now asking permission from the Chief on her behalf.

It soon became clear to all who had gathered for dinner that the Chief wasn't about to let his youngest wife go out into the world on a dangerous expedition. Every argument given by the two most important women in his life was discarded by Jacoba.

"A woman's place is in this village, tending to her husband's needs and wishes, looking after the children, cooking diner", Jacoba said angrily. "As my wife, Sa'eera's place is here, at my side, and not out in a jungle full of dangerous creatures", he added.

With that said, Jacoba turned around and walked outside, not wanting to hear another word from either woman.

During dinner, no one had dared to say a word; everyone could see that Chief Jacoba was not pleased with his youngest wife's desire to join the expedition, and the Great Wife and Assai pleading on her behalf. When Jacoba was in such a mood, they all knew that they had better leave him alone for a while.

Bored because of lack of conversation, Finn was looking up at the evening sky. It was slowly getting darker and darker, and the first star of the evening, the polar star, appeared as a bright shining light in the sky above. And then it hit her, she knew exactly how Assai could convince her father to let Sa'eera come with them in the morning.

She gave Assai, who was sitting next to her, a nudge with her elbow and gestured for her to follow her behind one of the huts. Finn quickly explained to Assai her plan, and when the two women emerged from behind the hut, Assai was smiling broadly.

"What are you two up to?" Challenger asked Finn.

" You'll just have to wait and see", Finn said, "but I'm sure you're going to be proud of me when you do, Genius", she added with a smile.

Assai in the meantime, went up to her fathers place at the table, to speak to him one more time about Sa'eera. She knew he wasn't going to like her bringing up the subject again, but in the presence of so many others, he would not dare to lash out at her as much as he would have otherwise.

"Father", she started, "I want to ask you one more time to allow Sa'eera to go with the explorers on their expedition. I know you have already said that she's not allowed, but what if the gods were to give you a sign that you should allow Sa'eera to go on this journey?" Assai asked.

She knew that because gods are very important to the Zanga people, her father could not refuse her proposal in front of so many tribesmen.

"Only if the gods give me a sign this night, will I let Sa'eera go with the expedition,, Jacoba agreed. He thought the possibility was remote, at best. What must his daughter be thinking?

"Gods giving a sign: how bloody likely is that?" Marguerite said sarcastically.

"You should have more faith, Margie," Finn said mysteriously, leaving the others with questioning looks on their faces while she went over to talk to Assai. Marguerite tried not to show her pique over being called, "Margie' by her younger friend. Finally, she managed a grudging smile at Finn's impertinence, realizing that sarcasm was not her sole province. When she wanted to, the slim blonde girl could hold her own in that regard.

They didn't have long to wait for the godly sign that Jacoba had demanded, but never in a million years had he thought he was actually going to get one. One of the Zanga warriors jumped up from his seat at the table, yelling something and pointing up at the nightly sky.

"What's going on; can you understand what he's saying, Marguerite?" Roxton asked.

"I think he's saying something about the sky falling down," Marguerite said. "About stars falling."

Everybody followed the man's pointing finger and looked at the sky. Veronica was the first to see. "It's a shooting star," she said.

"I think you'd better look again", Malone said, "because it's not one shooting star; it's a whole bunch of shooting stars."

"It's a meteor shower, actually," Challenger said, "the Leonid meteor shower to be more precise."

"My, my, Nicole, you clever girl, you remembered!" he added with a smile when Finn joined her friends again.

"I thought so," she replied, "We were supposed to watch this back at the Treehouse, but with all this skull business going on, we forgot all about it. But then when I saw Polaris in the sky, I remembered, and I thought this might be a great sign from the Gods. A sign that even Chief Jacoba can't ignore."

"Father," Assai said, "the Gods have given you a sign. Sa'eera should be allowed to go with Challenger and the others on the expedition."

And so it was done. Jacoba had no choice but to let Sa'eera go. The gods had spoken, and even the mightiest of chiefs could not ignore the will of the gods.

And thus Sa'eera joined the others as they loaded their gear into canoes and left the Zanga village the next morning.

After some ten miles, they veered to the right, taking a different fork of the river. After lunch, they had to portage the canoes a mile to a new river, flowing east. Pushing and carrying the canoes took the rest of the afternoon, and they camped for the night only just a safe distance from the water. During the night, various animals would drink there, and the area was hazardous.. Not only theropod dinosaurs hunted there, but crocodiles, caimans, and big anacondas prowled those shores. Even jaguars fished there and sought animals coming to drink. Deer, tapir, and anything smaller were on their menu. They would also take small to medium - sized caimans, called jacare by Brazilians.

The talk around their campfires was quiet; people were weary. Sa'eera sat with Finn, George, and Veronica, as Malone wrote in his journal. They lay back and looked at the stars; so many that those living in heavily lighted cities would hardly believe the profusion of lighted points in the heavens seen from a dark place.

This remote region was dark in other ways, too. They heard the roar of a Tyrannosaurus vanquishing its prey, probably a Hadrosaurus or similar duck-billed dinosaur. And the men talked with Xma'Klee about the tribe who had built the lost city they sought and of the evil shaman who lusted for power.

By nine AM the following day, they were again in the canoes, heading ever east. By two in the afternoon, they had to leave the river, dragging the canoes ashore and hiding them as best they could. Xma'Klee reluctantly left five warriors to guard them. He hated to lessen their number, but those canoes were vital, and he couldn't leave them unwatched.

The explorers took what supplies they could pack on their backs and drag on improvised travois, and headed into the jungle.

Where they found game trails going in the right direction, they followed them. When not, going was heavy, machetes often having to clear a path through the undergrowth. It was during one of these passages through virgin jungle that they almost lost the Great Shaman.

Xma'Klee was following one of his men, who fell back, tired. Xma'Klee took his place, swinging a Collins machete with a 24-inch blade. It was a gift from the white group, salvaged from another expedition that had succumbed to the Plateau. Forcing his way up a slight slope, Xma'Klee noticed that the foliage was gradually changing as they climbed, and that the heat and humidity was less.

He pushed aside a branch and was about to step forward when he heard a nasty, telltale buzzing. Rattlesnake! his mind screamed. The tropical rattler, Crotalus durissus terrificus in Brazil, was a nightmare. If it struck, the venom deposit was usually large, primarily neurotoxic, and extremely potent. A man untreated by antivenin would probably die if he got a full bite, and the venom didn't form antibodies well in horse serum, making large quantities of the antidote necessary to remedy a bad bite. And they had no antivenin! The snake was coiled at eye level, on a ledge about two feet in front of him, to the right. He froze; hoping desperately that those behind had heard the warning rattle and could help. He watched the devil's forked tongue flicker in and out. To Challenger, it meant that the snake was "smell-tasting" the air, feeding information to its reptilian brain via Jacobson's Organ. To Xma'Klee, the sight was fiendish.

Finn was 25 feet back when she heard the noise and knew it for what it was. She froze, looking around intensely, holding her left hand back to signal the others to stop. Her right hand drew the Smith & Wesson from its black, flapped holster.

"Hold still, Great Shaman," Finn breathed. She quickly brought up the .38, cocking the hammer for a more accurate shot as she raised the gun. When the foresight was steady on the snakes' head, in line with the coiled mass, she fired. The bullet blew the snake off the ledge, and Xma'Klee was on it instantly, swinging his sharp blade to decapitate it.

When his breathing had calmed and everyone had been told what had happened, Xma'Klee looked at Finn and said, "Woman Who Kills, you have my thanks. I marvel at your coolness and your ability to slay at a distance. You stand high in my esteem, and it is no small matter to earn the favor of the Paramount Shaman of All the Zanga. In time, I will send George Challenger a gift, thanking him for your aid." As Challenger's woman, Finn would naturally receive any reward through her man, who would pass the gift to her if he thought her worthy of it. It was unseemly for a man to give anything of value directly to a female already belonging to another man. Finn knew that the Zanga medicine man considered her to be Challenger's property, not an independent woman, and took no personal offense, although what she thought of the practice was another matter. But she had grown up in a different world, and here was ...here. And she had read the true gratitude in his eyes, the unspoken message that Xma'Klee also remembered that this was not the first time that she had saved him. This would weigh heavily on his male pride, she knew.

But if Finn was offended by the Zanga considering her to belong to Challenger, that was also strength, for as the woman of what they regarded as the potent white shaman, she was protected by his influence. She also had social stature beyond that of an unmarried woman.

They cast the dead serpent well off the new path and went on until they reached more open country where the going was easier, and a cool breeze blew. The vegetation was now more ferns and taller trees, with less dense bush, sagebrush, and heavy jungle.

When they found a cool stream some three feet wide, Roxton called a halt and the shaman agreed. It was time to rest, bail water, and fill their canteens and drinking skins. And, of course, they brewed tea. Marguerite commented dryly that this was the sole redeeming aspect of the day.

They were filling their canteens from a large kettle in which they had boiled water from the stream when Challenger realized that there was a tall, flat surfaced rock some 200 feet up the slope. He told Roxton that he would go up, mount the rock, and have a look around with his binocular. Finn and Sa'eera also decided to come.

From the rock, Challenger had a panoramic view for a great distance. He saw at once that the lake they had sought, known to be near the ruins of the ancient Tecamaya city, was in sight from this height. He was using his "out and about" binocular, an 8X30 Zeiss, more convenient to carry than his 10X50, and wished for the larger glass now as he studied something moving on the water. He could see several brachiosaurs feeding in the shallows, and what was probably a pair of Diplodocus browsing along the shore. But further out, smaller objects moved in tandem, four of them, and he suspected that these were canoes, large ones.

He knew that Sa'eera had a hobby of trying to imitate the sounds of jungle animals and was teaching this to Finn. He asked the girls if one would squeal like an alarmed agouti. When Sa'eera did, Roxton glanced up and Challenger motioned for him to come up and to bring Xma'Klee.

When they arrived, he dismounted the rock and had Roxton get up and train his own binocular, an American Bausch & Lomb 7X35, on the lake.

Roxton agreed that there were canoes, and he showed Xma'Klee how to adjust the glass for his eyes and how to look through it and hold it steady, bracing forefingers against his head. Xma'Klee was unsteady and somewhat frightened by the magnification of what he saw and soon handed the binocular back. But he had seen what Challenger meant.

"Those are canoes, George Challenger," he confirmed. "Xingu war canoes! Headhunters from the other side of the great lake. I know the shape and the way they move on the water. We must avoid them. I will tell the men to be careful and very alert from now on. If they land near here to hunt, we must learn of them before they learn of us. They and the Zanga are old enemies." And he went back down the slope quickly, a worried look on his face.

"What do you think, George?" asked Roxton. "Can we curve around to the right and follow the lake, paralleling it from above? It seems to have a big inlet in that direction. That coincides with the old Layton map and the legends of the Zanga. The ruins should be well above that lake, about two thirds of the way down to the right from where we are."

Challenger checked the map and nodded.

As they started to leave, he called to John and the two girls to pause. "I forgot something important," he explained. Finn, come here."

Finn stepped over and looked curiously at him. "What's up, George?"

"You are, my dear," he grinned, and picking her up, he set her atop the tall, flat rock. "There. Your improvised pedestal! I'm setting you on one for the cleverness you showed in outfoxing old Jacoba about Sa'eera coming along. That was really quite clever of you. Anyway, you belong up there for putting up with this journey and for managing to look so happy and so beautiful in spite of what I know must be a hard trip for a woman. And I love you, so you must be a female deserving of being set on a pedestal and admired by all, anyway. Certainly, you are always on a pedestal in my heart." He smiled at his own wit and in amusement at Finn's embarrassment. (See also, "The Pedestal" among the Mature fics here.)

"I don't deserve anything special, Genius," she protested. "I'm just doing what you ought to expect of me as your assistant and as your main squeeze. And I'm having a blast doing it, too!" She had to explain "blast", it not being a word used in that context in the English language of 1922.

Roxton was amused, if a little sympathetic, for poor Finn in her embarrassment. "You've done splendidly, Nicole," he said. Try not to look so self conscious. George means well. He's just bungling matters because he's in love, and a man in love does strange things."

At this, Finn turned scarlet, but she was obviously childishly pleased. She turned to Challenger, embraced him and told him how sweet he was, even if he was being ridiculous. "Now, get me down off this rock before those Xingu jerks see us!", she pleaded.

Sa'eera had followed this with at first bafflement, and then when she saw what the gesture meant, she came forward and hugged both Challenger and his mate. "You were so romantic, George Challenger, and Finn, I also think you are very pretty and very smart. Husband is probably still grumbling at how you outwitted him. But he, too, will admire you and respect your knowledge of the supernatural and of the sky when he calms."

"It didn't hurt that George left his next youngest wife that big bottle of hair dye, either," teased Roxton. Veronica and Sa'eera had shown this girl, two years older than Sa'eera, how to apply the bleaching agent, and even Jacoba had been so impressed that his complaining had succumbed to a mild resentment by the time they left. His fondness for blonde women was well known, and now he would have one, even with the other away.

Challenger took Finn's hand and the four walked back down the slope and told everyone else what they had seen. Roxton waited for Marguerite to ask if this day could get any better after she heard about the headhunters, but she had evidently decided that asking that so often when displeased now constituted a cliché, an uttering so frequently heard that the others sometimes taunted her about it. Or, perhaps she was just too worried to complain. Roxton saw from her expression that she was deep in thought and genuinely concerned about the news. He took the chicken sandwich she handed him and sat next to her and poured a second cup of tea.

"How far now to the ruins, Great Shaman?" asked Ned Malone. He looked worn in spite of the pause for rest, for the trip uphill had been hard going.

"I think maybe a day more, "answered Xma'Klee, "and we must now be very wary, for there are Xingu as well as whoever may live in or by that wicked city. Tonight, we must camp without fires. We have dried meat and fruit, so we will eat without fire. But we must sleep where no prowling animals would likely encounter us. And when we kill game, my hunters will use blowguns or arrows. The thunder of your weapons would announce us to anyone with ears, from far away."

When darkness fell, they were camped by a small stream running down a limestone hill with enough cover to hide them if any Xingu war parties came near.

Marguerite grumbled and carped about the "no fires" rule precluding hot tea, which she said was an injustice against the British soul. Everyone knew that she was being sarcastic to bolster her spirits and to rail at Fate for inflicting this indignity on her after a hard trek that she hadn't relished in the first place. But she had admitted to a fervent desire to get to the bottom of the Skull mystery, and had had to face the fact that this goal required sacrifice of her. Roxton smiled at her litany of complaints about the weather, the insects, the humidity, and of course, the appalling lack of tea and the comfort it afforded in times of adversity.

Finn listened at first with resentment, for Marguerite had endured no more than the rest of them, then she realized that she was smiling at the other woman's bitching. It was an expression of what they all felt and it was ...so Marguerite. Knowing that she knew Marguerite so well that she could predict when she would gripe, and often, almost silently mouth the words as they came, warmed her heart. It was good to be with friends whom she knew so intimately, and to feel a part of their group.

She told this to Challenger when he asked why she had suddenly gone from a sullen expression to smiling, and he laughed at her explanation and hugged her. Sa'eera also smiled, and passed them a bunch of grapes that they had brought from the Treehouse. Oranges, lemons, bananas, and limes made the rounds as dessert to the meal of biltong and carrots.

Malone sucked at a lemon and told the story of how Confederate General "Stonewall" Jackson had sucked on one all through a Civil War battle, the single piece of fruit being the only one he could get due to the Yankee blockade. "So," he said, "you see, we're lucky. We can get lemons here when we want them. Things aren't as bad as they seem right now."

Marguerite heard him with increasing incredulity. She knew that he meant well, but Ned Malone had a way of making a point in a fashion that left others wondering why he bothered. Veronica patted his shoulder and told him that she felt better already, having heard this uplifting news. Roxton turned away so that Malone wouldn't see him about to laugh. He had seen the expression on Vee's face even as she offered Ned her thanks. She, too, had been torn by the quandary of whether to laugh or groan.

At last, all settled in for the night, George and Finn sharing a blanket behind a boulder that afforded some privacy. Roxton and his brunette love also sought similar privacy, now past pretending that they were not a couple. Ned Malone wished for a sign from Veronica that she wanted him by her side, but saw none, to his chagrin. Instead, Veronica lay next to Sa'eera. But Ned was only a few feet away, as close as he dared.

Some time after midnight, Veronica woke on hearing a slithering noise among the leaves. She saw a coral snake sliding over Ned's right boot and was glad that he'd slept with his boots on and that the reptile had short fangs that probably couldn't pierce the tough leather. But for Fate, that snake might have charted a course across her own or Sa'eera's bare legs. She whispered a brief prayer of thanks for deliverance, and resolved to use her hammock the next night. She'd decide later whether to tell Ned about his close call, and hoped that the snake wouldn't return along this path.

Down by the lake, she heard a furious splashing and the roar of a big carnosaur attacking some hapless item of prey. The others stirred, then went back to sleep. In cities, people probably ignored police sirens in the night. Here, the sounds were different, but if one wasn't the one affected by the siren or the roar, ignoring it was probably the best way to deal with the issue. But she hoped that they would soon be safe back in the Treehouse.

She was very glad when the first rays of the sun began driving shadows from the jungle.

When everyone was up and about, Roxton conferred with Xma'Klee, and to Marguerite's inexpressible joy, announced that they would build a small fire from a wood that emitted little smoke. Hidden in dense jungle, built in a pit, it wouldn't be seen by the Xingu, who probably wouldn't smell it, either. The flames wouldn't show by day.

Restored by tea, she sat, cup in hand, watching Roxton and Challenger slicing pieces of biltong (dried meat, cured by a South African method) and passing them around with broccoli, bananas and carrots. She saw Finn and Sa'eera looking at the bananas and at each other, and grinning. Veronica looked to see the source of this and blushed deeply. Clearly, they remembered Finn's tutorial at the Treehouse.

Marguerite discovered that the biltong had been cured so as to leave the center pink and moist enough to chew more easily than if it had been fully dried. Eaten with tea, the cured, spiced meat was actually rather good. She colored slightly as she peeled a banana and felt Finn's eyes on her, and determined to show no reaction. She lost, and all the women started snickering.

"What's so funny?" demanded Ned, the only one who hadn't heard the story by now. All broke into full laughter, and Veronica told him that she'd tell him on the trail, in private.

Breakfast finished, they boiled more water in a kettle and filled their canteens and the Zanga water skins, and Marguerite asked Challenger for his copy of the Layton map.

"You want that to keep, or just to hold long enough to get excited thinking about Tecamaya gold?" probed Roxton.

"Very funny, John," she retorted. "What I want to do is go sit up the slope with this and my binocular and think by myself. Maybe I can sense how far this charming villa is and just which way. I have no intention of trekking about in this damned jungle for any longer than I have to."

Several of the Zanga, told what she had said, looked at her with alarm and suspicion. They knew that Xma'Klee called her, "Sorceress", and were leery of her.

While she was gone, the others cleaned up the remains of their meal, which they buried.

Finn sat with Sa'eera and her Zeiss 8X30 binocular and drew. Challenger came over and stared at the images she'd penned of Porro and roof prisms.

"Did you sketch those from memory?" he wanted to know.

"Sure, George. What did I get wrong?"

"Nothing. That's the point. Nicole, you have an astonishing memory and eye for detail. I think I shall have to find another tall rock today. Pedestal time again." And he chuckled. "Darling, the longer I know you, the more impressed I am. You are truly a remarkable woman."

"Yeah, well, Genius, you're pretty impressive yourself. I don't sleep with you just because of your mighty muscles, although those get me all hot and bothered, too." And it was his turn to look embarrassed, for others had heard, and were openly amused.

A soft crunching of dry leaves announced Marguerite's return. She walked over to Xma'Klee and knelt next to him. "Clever Ocelot, I beg your wise counsel. Please come with me for a moment." And the two went back up the trail, Xma'Klee eyeing her curiously. Others did, too... (Clever Ocelot was Xma'Klee's name expressed in English.)

Ned sat with Veronica, a little apart from the others as she told him about Finn's little oral sex training session. She mentioned that Sa'eera had been more amused than anything; Zanga girls often being taught how to please men in many ways before they had reached marriage age. But she added that she, Veronica, had learned more than the Zanga and the Amazons had taught her. She used a carrot to show Ned what she meant, enjoying his embarrassment.

"Veronica," said Malone. "That was just so gross! Damn it, I'm talking like Finn! Hey, speaking of her, do you know what she and George are doing now, right out in front of anyone who walks past that boulder they camped behind?"

Veronica rolled her eyes, hoping that Ned wouldn't see. Whatever it was that the other couple was doing, it probably wasn't as serious a social gaffe as Ned was making out. "What are they doing, Ned?" she asked, only half interested.

"He's lying on a blanket, and that hussy has draped herself half over him, with her head on his chest and he's playing with her hair and ears. Once, she moved over and gyrated her pelvis on him, down, uh, well, you know. But the really strange thing is what they're talking about. I was standing in just the right place to hear their words in a sort of sound corridor or whatever Challenger would call it, and they're talking about how much phosphorus to use in the formula for Experiment 73! Are those two weird, or what?!"

Veronica broke up laughing, but when she got that under control, a thought struck her. "Ned...they are dressed, aren't they?" She felt herself beginning to glow bright pink.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Well, Finn has her boots off, and she keeps moving one foot up and down George's leg. I don't see how he manages to lie there talking about phosphorus."

"You know George: anything for science!" And Veronica started laughing again.

"You think this is funny?" demanded Malone. "Anyone who walks by there can see them carrying on like that!"

"I just hope they didn't see YOU, Ned," Veronica retorted. "I'm already in enough trouble with Finn for how I got involved in that banana- licking project." And she told him about what she had seen the Challengers doing on the veranda after George had spanked Finn. "Ned, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, and it gets back to Nicole, I swear that I will push you off the top balcony as soon as we get back to the Treehouse. Got that? Mum's the word."

"Okay," he mumbled. "Gosh, you think you know someone, and they turn out to be so...licentious...even in public."

"I'm sure they don't think anyone will come up there. No one has, until you flounced off. Ned, relax: they're in love, and this isn't Central Park in New York. It's not like they're about to shock any children or dogs or get cited by a policeman." And she erupted again.

"Maybe it is sort of funny, I guess," Ned admitted. "Would you ever do anything like that?

"Absolutely not. For one thing, I have no idea whatever how much phosphorus their experiment needs. I couldn't begin to discuss that. And George would never ask me to." She started giggling again.

"No, silly. I mean, like with me. If no one was around."

"Well, Ned, you never know. You might have to say 'please' when you ask me. And promise not to talk about lab stuff." She started laughing again, but this time, even the blushing Ned Malone smiled.

Marguerite Krux and Xma'Klee sat on an ancient stone bench, looking at a eight-foot high basalt pillar in the jungle above their camp.

"Great Shaman, can you read the glyphs on this monument?" she asked. "I think I know, but I seek the counsel of one wiser than I am, to be certain."

He looked into her green eyes, studying what he saw there. "Sorceress, you need not seek to flatter me excessively when we are beyond hearing of others. I am vain, but I know when I am with a peer of sorts. You also are not without special talents involving the supernatural. It is said that you read any language. And you ask me this? Is it only to curry favor with me?"

"No, Great Shaman! I mean, Xma'Klee, if I may say your name. I ask only to know more fully what I think I see here. I understand some languages better than others, and words better than glyphs. My question is sincere. And I wish to ask you to meditate with me, looking at this map, and divine where these ruins are."

He thought, and then nodded. "When we are alone, Ma'Greet, you may say my name. In public, few do, save the king and my own apprentice. Even the queens do not speak my name before others, for they are, after all, only women. Alone, the Great Wife, who is my cousin, and Sa'eera, whom I love as a daughter, call me by name. I will also allow this of George Challenger and of Finn, Woman Who Kills, to whom I owe my life twice over. But otherwise, decorum is best preserved.

"Now, as to the symbols," he continued, "they mean, as you have no doubt deduced, Priestess, that this is the border of Tecamaya lands. Beyond, no one may pass without the permission of their elders. The glyphs boast of their bloody origins and their journey here, and warn that their gods protect their lands."

She pointed at one glyph. "Is this the symbol for the Aztec deity known as Smoking Mirror?"

He nodded, "Yes: Lord of the Sun and of Darkness, Tezcatlipoca. And this to the left is the Mayan Kul'kul'can, Feathered Serpent. It is the Maya version of the Aztec Quetzalcoatl. These are their supreme gods, to whom they sacrifice, although the latter expressly forbade human sacrifice in their original interpretations of him." He pointed to another figure, amused now. "And this one represents Pedro de Alvarado, who conquered Guatemala. He had reddish-blonde hair and beard, like George Challenger. Perhaps we may use this to our advantage somehow, although I cannot see this at present. Also, that man is shown here as a devil. "He chuckled softly."Perhaps it is better if Woman Who Kills and her man do not appear to these people if they are still in that city. Hmm… Ned Malone, Veronica and Queen Sa'eera are also blonde. Who knows how the Tecamaya may react to that hair color?"

They then sat facing each other, both holding the Layton map, and went into almost a trance-like state for several minutes. Then, he turned to her, and touched her shoulder. He had to jostle her slightly to wake her from whatever thing she was seeing, and she was pale and breathing heavily.

"Sorceress! Ma'Greet? What vision have you seen?"

"This is really horrible," she began, and told him what she had beheld.

Even as she revealed this, it struck her that they MUST tell most of what they'd divined; the whole purpose of her conferring with Xma'Klee was to get information for the group. But a deeply personal aspect of what she had seen, she would keep for John, later.

"I will tell my men what we have 'seen'," said Xma'Klee. "Sorceress, you must tell your kind. The Queen may sit where she wishes, of course. Let us brief our people and make plans to leave camp, while enough daylight remains that we can make progress along the trail before the sun fails."

"Right, gather 'round," said Marguerite, back in their camp. "The Great Shaman and I found a stelae or column in black basalt that has glyphs telling of how the Tecamaya came here. It warns travelers to go no farther than that barrier, which has probably been there for at least two centuries. We have no idea if this area is still patrolled by the Ancient Ones, or if we can ignore that grim warning. What is sure is that we are approaching the area of their former city, which is, or was, called Xochilenque. "

"Sho-sho...what?!" "exclaimed the baffled Ned.

Marguerite drew a deep breath. Lord, let me suffer fools more gladly, she prayed mentally. "Ned, I will say this slowly: Sho-chi-LEN-kay. We believe that this is a blend of the names of an Aztec city called Xochimilco and the well known Maya metropolis of Palenque. The Layton map shows it to be near the shore, but inland from the lake. So, we needn't worry that it is like Tenotichtitlan, built in a lake. As you know, that limited access to the Conquistadors under Cortes, and almost caused disaster for the Spanish and their Tlaxcalan allies when they had to retreat from the city on a causeway, on the Noche de Triste, the Night of Sorrow."

"George, " she continued, "you may recall that the Noche de Triste followed a blunder in which Cortés's second-in-command, Pedro de Alvarado, opened fire on Aztec dancers, believing that they were about to attack. That caused immediate, open warfare while Cortes had gone to the coast to deal with soldiers sent by the governor of Cuba to arrest him. He subverted them to his own cause, but had a hard time from then on, until victory. The point is, George looks somewhat like de Alvarado, with reddish-blonde hair and beard. So, he and Nicole may wish to stay out of sight when the rest of us enter the city, in case he might be seen in an evil light. Old Pedro later took Guatemala for Spain, and his image is on that column, portrayed as a devil."

"That's George, all right: you wouldn't believe the devilish things he does to me when he thinks everyone else is asleep," quipped Finn, who, realizing what she'd said, glowed pink.

Everyone erupted in laughter, and Roxton pounded Challenger on the back and congratulated him. Even Malone reached over and pumped his hand. Challenger looked embarrassed but a bit smug.

"Well, if we can refrain from macho mirth for awhile, "continued Marguerite, "we need to realize that we may be at the door of these people's former empire, and keep watch for them as well as for the Xingu. And I think they survive, or some of them. I had a very vivid mental flash of a Tecamaya sacrificial ceremony, and it 'felt' rather fresh to me. Xma'Klee also caught a chill, and thinks that we will find survivors of their race, and that they will be unfriendly. Like, cut-out -your-heart unfriendly. So, we hope to camp tonight near the city, and send scouts to see if the trails around it show signs of recent use. We will rise early tomorrow and use binoculars to study the ruins for activity, and try to determine which buildings are what.

"I will turn matters over to John now, as he is our war chief, or to George, our leader. But I want one thing clearly understood: I want to brew tea to carry cold to drink tonight when we can't have a fire. I can bear much, with tea. And, as Ned says, 'That's about the size of it'. "

Roxton looked at Challenger and they began to discuss the fine detail of how to proceed. Sa'eera insisted on staying close to Finn and George, and all agreed that this would keep her safe, away from whatever happened in the city. The young queen must be protected at all cost, for Jacoba's anger would be great, should anything amiss befall her.

As they moved forward in the dusky jungle, Roxton sensed more than heard, a rustle in the leaves. He had just turned his head to see what it might be when somethng smashed into his right boot with tremendous force. Had he not been lifting his leg to clear a branch on the trail, that blow would have struck his right calf instead of the boot heel.

"Oh, my God! screamed Marguerite. "Snake!" And she fumbled for her holster.

"BLAM!" she heard from just behind her and to the right. She jumped back and saw Challenger, Colt in hand, cocking the hammer for a second shot.

"Hau!" shouted a warrior. "No more shoot. Use spear!" And he thrust his heavy jaguar-killing zagaya into the thrashing mass of coils. Another man ran up and wielded his machete artfully, hacking with three quick slashes.

When all had settled down, Challenger produced a flashlight and they examined the cause of the commotion. The snake was long, probably over ten feet, and one look at the tan body marked with black rhombs and stripes on the sides of the head told the story.

"Bushmaster!", breathed Challenger. "Lachesis muta, the longest American pit viper. No rattles, but enormous venom glands. Some 80 % of its victims die, even with treatment. John, where did it strike you?"

Xu'ac, banished former shaman of the Zanga, sat in his hut and listened to the words of his spy in Jacoba's village.

"Mighty Shaman, the white people and Queen Sa'eera have gone to the Old City, the dwelling place of the Ancient Ones. They have your Crystal Skull that once came from there, and they seek to determine its significance. The Great Shaman and the white shaman, George Challenger, think the answer lies there, and they also seek gold. Jacoba has given them 50 warriors and allowed Sa'eera to go, also, that they may find gold and jewels and bring him some. All hope to find riches there, in that dreadful place. What shall we do?'

Xu'ac held up a hand for silence. He thought for a few minutes, then said, "Call a meeting tonight of our warriors. We must leave tomorrow to track the group sent by Jacoba. I want that Skull back. It carries much power when used well."

"We will pursue them, picking up more men from my own village, which is on the way to that place. We still have rifles sold to me by the slavers that were overcome by these people three months ago, and our force will be larger than theirs. But we must be careful until we are ready to attack. We will keep to cover. Some among us have seen the Englishman, Roxton, and Woman Who Kills, slay game from at least the distance of eight long arrow shots. The others are also dangerous, although perhaps not as skilled as those two, who are their main hunters."

"Go now, Ia'Drang, and pass the word for all to meet me tonight when the moon stands high, at the spot where the big rock looks like the back of a stegosaur. Bring food for several days, and all else we may need. I will now sleep, then I will rise and make sacred smoke and cast bones and divine what course we must take. I will be King here soon, not Jacoba, and if we plan well, that time may be at hand."

Ia'Drang was suitably impressed, and hurried to tell those others who conspired with them that the time of victory and rich spoils was near.

Marguerite and John were speaking quietly, lingering just far enough behind Challenger and Xma'Klee to ensure not being overheard.

"There's something that you aren't telling us about that session up the hill this afternoon," charged Roxton.

"Yes, John. Something quite grim. I hope fervently that I'm off the mark, but I had a premonition that one of us will be sacrificed, or very nearly so. And I felt a great danger apart from the ruined city. We are at some risk right now that I couldn't define. Also, we both sensed that we are being pursued. Xma'Klee thinks it is by his own kind, probably by Xu'ac, the banished shaman. He thinks that crystal skull is the one that Xu'ac claimed to have, with which he was impressing outlying Zanga villagers. There are so few around that he's probably right. If so, Xu'ac will leave no stone unturned to get it back.

"We are faced with foes on all sides, and the avenues of escape are narrowing. Be extremely careful."

Roxton looked thoughtfully at her. "What aren't you telling me now?" he accused. "I know you, Marguerite. No more secrets. Our lives may depend on your perceptions. I don't want to have to keep probing for information that I need to plan our actions. Tell me. Now! The time for playing games and having secrets is past. We may be walking into Hell, and my woman won't even pass the bucket of water that may be vital to quenching the furnace! If you truly love me, trust me, now."

She drew a long breath and looked directly into his eyes, pulling him off the trail. "All right, John. I foresaw your death. I'm so scared that I almost can't speak, and I don't know what to say that will help, because I just got an impression without any real detail. And I am bloody TERRIFIED that I may lose you, just after I became sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Now, do you see why I couldn't tell you?"

She leaned against the trunk of a huge tree and began openly sobbing, letting her rifle sag on its sling until she dropped it altogether, her shoulders wracked with the force of her terror. Roxton had never seen her lose control like this, and a cold ball of fear snatched at his solar plexus as he moved forward to take her in his arms.

And Death watched, biding his time, on the verge of striking.

As they moved forward in the dusky jungle, Roxton sensed more than heard, a rustle in the leaves. He had just turned his head to see what it might be when something smashed into his right boot with tremendous force. Had he not been lifting his leg to clear a branch on the trail, that blow would have struck his right calf instead of the boot heel.

"Oh, my God! screamed Marguerite. "Snake!" And she fumbled for her holster.

"BLAM!" she heard from just behind her and to the right. She jumped back and saw Challenger, Colt in hand, cocking the hammer for a second shot.

"Hau!" shouted a warrior. "No more shoot. Use spear!" And he thrust his heavy jaguar-killing zagaya into the thrashing mass of coils. Another man ran up and wielded his machete artfully, hacking with three quick slashes. Challenger's .45 bullet had blown off the head and several inches of neck, but the jaws still snapped until the head was ruined by the machete, and the rest of the snake still writhed, as dying reptiles so often do.

When all had settled down, Challenger produced a flashlight and they examined the cause of the commotion. The snake was long, probably over ten feet, and one look at the tan body marked with black rhombs and stripes on the sides of the head told the story.

"Bushmaster!" breathed Challenger. "Lachesis muta, the longest American pit viper. These things can reach at least 14 feet! No rattles, but enormous venom glands. Some 80 % of its victims die, even with treatment. John, where did it strike you?"

They carefully examined him, but the streaks of venom skidding across the heel of his boot were the only damage. He spilled water from his canteen on a bunch of dried grass, and carefully wiped the scratches left by the fangs.

When Xma'Klee saw that Roxton was safe, he said loudly enough to be easily overheard by the wide-eyed Zanga pressing close, "This is a good omen! Even this terrible serpent failed in its attempt to harm the English lord. My magic is strong. Our cause is just. The gods obviously favor us, for this snake to have failed in its evil."

Challenger opened the loading gate of his revolver, punched out the empty cartridge case and reloaded. "How much damage do you suppose the noise of that shot did?" he asked Roxton, who had sat down, trembling, on a log...after looking very carefully on the other side of it!

Roxton drew a deep breath and held up a hand to signal that he needed a moment to compose himself. He laid his rifle against the log and rested his head in his hands.

Finn had come to stand beside Challenger, and she took Marguerite's hand and squeezed it as she bent over Roxton "George," she said, "I think we may be in pretty good shape. The trees here are thick, and will have reflected the sound of the shot. Those rocks on the point below us probably deflected it before the full noise reached the lake. Maybe it will just sound like distant thunder or a big rock falling, to the Tecamaya, assuming that any are even left. They've probably never heard a firearm before, anyway, and won't necessarily connect it to people."

"I think she's right," agreed a wan John Roxton. "And it was a pistol shot, less loud and reverberating than if you'd used a rifle. We may be uncompromised, but we need to move away from here, just in case anyone does come. Scavengers will probably get the snake tonight. But let's brush out our tracks for awhile as best we can. If the Xingu have landed from their canoes, they may be close enough to investigate the noise. "

He pulled Marguerite to him and kissed her, intensely.

"What was that for?" she stammered. "You're the one who was almost bitten by that filthy, crawling thing, not me!"

"Lady, you bring me luck," he retorted. "What are the odds on my having my boot where it was, and the heel being what the fangs hit? Those long fangs would have gone right through the leather if it had struck much higher."

He took out his Bowie knife and manipulated the severed head of the bushmaster, distorted by the .45 bullet and the machete blade. Using the blade and a twig, he exposed the long fangs in the beam of Challenger's light, and all marveled at their length and the way the dead snake's muscles still twitched its torn jaws in an attempt to bite. Sa'eera stood hand to mouth, staring in horror. She knew the legends her people told of this awful serpent and how so very few survived its bite, and then, only after long agony that might include the loss of a limb.

Finn took her hand, too, and squeezed it and Marguerite's. "We were damned fortunate," she muttered. "M., I'm going to stand next to you from now on: John may be right about you bringing luck." And they all smiled, but it was clear that the strain of the last few minutes had been intense.

"Time to move on," said Veronica. "We need to be in place long enough before dawn to get some sleep and send out scouts. Ned, stay close to me," she ordered.

"Why?" he demanded. "You think I can't look after myself and you, too?"

She smiled in the darkness. "That's why I want you near me, Mister. I want to feel protected." And Ned felt much more manly, not seeing the grins that passed between Finn, Veronica, and the Roxtons.

The expedition moved on down the trail, shining flashlights at any really dark places before passing them, especially where another bushmaster or a barba amarilla (Bothrops atrox and very similar related species with yellowish throats) might lie coiled next to a tree or fallen limb. Challenger, in the rear, noticed that the Roxtons stayed very close to one another, and reached out to touch more than usual. He sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving as he took Finn's hand briefly and kissed her surprised, upturned face.

In the ruined watchtower on the southern side of Xochilenque, one sentry had turned to another and asked if he had heard a faint thud from the jungle a mile beyond. That man shrugged and said that perhaps a boulder had fallen, or a dead dinosaur had fallen down a cliff. They went back to talking about the upcoming sacred ball game.

But closer, on the slope above where Challenger had fired his Colt, other ears heard. And they knew the sound of a gun. Xu'ac and Ia' Drang and a vicious warrior named Pl'kieu exchanged glances and discussed how far beyond them the sound had been, and altered course slightly as they continued. Pl'kieu fondled the stock of his 7mm Mauser rifle and his teeth flashed in the shadows. Soon, the whites and the King's sensuous young wife and the famous shaman would be in their hands. The feeling that flowed through his veins was good. He knew that soon he would kill, and perhaps be given Sa'eera, Finn, or Veronica for his share of the spoils if he distinguished himself. Xu'ac was welcome to the glass head. Pl'kieu preferred other loot.

Two hours later, after casting around in the dark jungle, the war party led by Xu'ac discovered scuffed ground and the remains of the bushmaster being fed on by an opossum, which bounded off at their approach.

They noted the head, which seemed to have been destroyed by a bullet, and one keen-eyed warrior, Nha'Trang by name, saw the yellow gleam of the .45 Colt cartridge case that Challenger had ejected from his revolver when reloading. Normally, he would have saved the brass case to reload, but he was stressed and it had dropped out of sight in the leaves on the forest floor. Nha'Trang discovered it by stepping on it

Xu'ac nodded sagely. "The whites have been here, and this snake was hacked into pieces with a machete. This was not done by a coati, opossum , or some other animal. See, the trail has been brushed out, if one looks carefully." He held his torch low, that they might see the marks he meant.

"From now on, we must take care. We will follow just a little more, then the torches must be extinguished. With luck, the people we seek are not looking back, and the jungle is thick, but that will thin out soon, and they will see lights, if we show any."

They increased their pace, hoping to soon hear or sight Jacoba's expedition.

Ahead and well to the right by now, Challenger and Xma'Klee conferred. They had found a clearing where their party could camp. In a few hours, they would send scouts forward to check the trail to the ruined city. When the sun rose, they would climb and seek a view of it with glasses. For now, sleep was vital. No one knew when they might again have the opportunity.

All bedded down, the whites and some of the Zanga using hammocks to keep them off the jungle floor, where spiders, lizards, snakes and similar traffic might prove disconcerting, at best. Veronica recalled that coral snake of the previous night!

Finn and Challenger slung their hammocks by one another, next to Veronica and Sa'eera.

Just before she allowed herself to sleep, Veronica realized that the Challengers were whispering, and she strained her ears to hear.

"Hey, Muscles! Can you hear me?" Finn.

"What, Nicole? I'm trying to sleep. We must, Darling. Tomorrow is likely to be stressful and eventful."

"Yeah, I'm about to pass out, anyway. But, look: if we reduce the iodine, you can add another gram more phosphorus to that formula, I bet."

"By, Jove!" he exclaimed, "You're right! Let's do that. Darling, you are a pearl among women." And he pulled her hammock over to his, and Veronica heard kissing noises, softly in the gloom of the Amazonian night. She shook her head in bafflement and admiration. Ned had been telling the truth about those two, not that she had ever thought that their attraction was merely physical. But their communion went even deeper than she had realized. I hope I have that level of closeness with Ned, someday, she mused, as she drifted off. Not that she really wanted to discuss lab formulas while "making out", but it was nice to know that people could be that close to one another. And think about two things at once...

Less than a mile above them, Xu'ac signaled a halt for sleep. He did not want to come up on the other group too suddenly, in the dark, and they needed rest. When the sun rose, so would his prospects of becoming the next King of all the Zanga. It was a pleasant thought on which to retire.

On the trail ahead of Jacoba's emissaries, a jaguar stalked, powerful sinews rippling beneath the spotted hide. Suddenly, it paused, nose sniffing the ground where one of the two-legged mammals had passed an hour before. Its lips pulled back, baring the terrible teeth, and a low, rattling growl expressed the big cat's displeasure. He turned and went along a different path, one predator choosing to avoid another.

Shortly before dawn, several two-man patrols moved out toward the ruins of the Tecamaya city. These were all Zanga warriors, selected for their stealth and intelligence by Xma'Klee. Each party had an archer, to allow killing at distance, if need be.

The whites sat in camp after rousing, breakfasting on cold tea and uncooked vegetables and fruit. Roxton handed around slices of biltong.

After they cleaned up and made packs of the most essential gear, to be carried into the city, they stashed the remainder of their things under a huge rock with a pit beneath it.

Several parties returned, reporting no sign of humans or trail use. Then, at nine o'clock, two men came in and began talking excitedly to Xma'Klee. Sa'eera translated for her friends.

"These men say they have noticed foot traffic on a trail going directly into Xochilenque. Some tracks are fresh, and some are deep, suggesting that the men making them were carrying heavy burdens. Some foliage has been cut, to clear the trail. This was done within the last day."

Roxton decided to go with a man he knew had keen eyesight and hearing and who had impressed him since they'd left the Zanga royal village. He wanted to see the tracks first hand. But first, he had to find a vantage point overlooking Xochilenque that would let him watch through binoculars and see the layout of the city and any activity there. Challenger and Finn wanted to help, and Sa'eera insisted on staying with them, so all three, Marguerite, and the Zanga man eased upslope until they were high enough up to see around the next bend in the trail and look onto the city.

Finn had gotten into her pack and taken out the binocular she had looted from the slavers earlier that year. Now, she went up a tree from which she had a good view. Because the contrast between her pale skin and black shorts and top and her golden hair might draw attention, she draped her hammock across herself. She had a Zeiss 8X30 Porro prism model, identical to George's, and she was very proud of it. Veronica had been amused by her remark in the Treehouse about how Challenger cared for his things, because Finn herself was at least as attentive to her own. She began sweeping the shore of the lake, seeing no human activity, although two hadrosaurs were feeding in the shallows, and a probable crocodile drifted past thirty yards offshore.

Roxton drew a map of the buildings he saw, passing the page down to Marguerite and Challenger, who tried to interpret what the structures might be. One was probably a court for playing the Sacred Ball Game, and others probably the Temples of the Sun and of the Moon. The city was somewhat overgrown, but not totally, and Roxton saw two men on the southern watch tower.

A long stone pier extended well out into the lake, and the wooden posts and rope rails along its edge hadn't rotted away. Someone still maintained that pier...

In the end, they pooled their thoughts and Roxton and the Zanga man ventured down the trail to scout ahead. Marguerite insisted on coming, and John decided that his concern for her was balanced by his desire for the added firepower her rifle would lend if they blundered into a trap.

They had gone about half a mile when the Zanga, in the lead, stopped short on turning a corner. He pointed with his spear to something lying on the grass just off the trail, where it sloped down to the lake shore.

The Roxtons silently slipped down to find a human body that was unusual in dress and decoration. It was unusual in another respect, too: it had no head, and none was in sight. This was not simple decapitation. The head had been carried off!

The Zanga man tapped Roxton on the shoulder and pointed to tracks crossing the trail, and around the body. He knelt down and whispered, "Xingu feet leave these marks. Xingu men take head."

"Well, of course." muttered Marguerite. "Why didn't I think of that? Silly me."

They quickly returned to the others, reporting their grim discovery.

Roxton decided that they should take a path well above the dead man, so that whoever found him wouldn't associate them with the "sign" found by the body.

They all set off and soon passed the victim, steering an oblique course to a vantage point above the ruins.

Roxton paused several times to scan the area with his binocular, and at one point stiffened and looked intently at something in the distance. There was a tree nearby that would bear Finn's weight, but not his own. He sent her up the tree and told her where to look, and she confirmed that there was a man in another tree, some 300 yards distant, directing someone on the ground toward the explorers. She described the man and his dress, and Xma'Klee growled, "Xingu. If you are sure that they have sighted us, prepare for sudden trouble. But what can we do? He will tell them which way we go, even if we change direction." He looked very worried.

"Nicole," asked Roxton. "If I pass the Mannlicher up to you, can you knock that fellow out of the tree?"

"I think so," she replied dryly. "This is Wednesday, isn't it? "

"Yes, but what the Hell has that to do with it?" demanded an anxious Marguerite.

"On Wednesdays, I shoot headhunters before lunch for no charge," she returned, and winked at John as he passed her the elegant little Austrian hunting rifle. The others winced at her waggish, macabre humor, although Challenger and Veronica also smiled and shook their heads, half in disbelief and half in admiration of what they had come to recognize as a classic "Finnism" at a time of great peril...

"That's what, 300, maybe 325 yards, John?" Finn was estimating the range to her intended target.

"Yes," he agreed. "The bullet will probably drop a bit over a foot, and there's no wind to contend with. Hold on his head and see what happens."

She nodded, and fitted the steel buttplate into her shoulder socket, held carefully on the Xingu man's head, and pressed the rear of the two triggers on her rifle. This "set" the front trigger so that it would fire the rifle with the slightest pressure, allowing minimum disturbance to aim. Such "double-set" triggers had been used on rifles for centuries, including some German Jaeger rifles and the graceful American flintlock long rifles descended from them. In Europe, the system was still often encountered.

She exhaled, and then held her breath, trying to hold the gold foresight steady on the man's head. He suddenly stood up to see what she was doing, and she instantly tracked his movement and touched the front trigger. CrRAACK! snapped the deadly little carbine and she felt it recoil into her shoulder.

In his binocular, Roxton saw the Xingu warrior jerk violently and slap at his chest. He looked puzzled, and then fell loosely backward, landing on hard ground and rolling down the slope below his tree.

"NICE shooting, Nicole!" he shouted. "Now, let's change direction and get the devil out of here. Watch for his friends, everyone."

Ned stood and stared for a moment, shocked that the wry, witty young woman, whom he had grown to like, even if he thought she was too sarcastic or "forward" at times, had just killed a man as casually as he'd light his pipe. From over three football fields away...He remembered with a sudden chill that Xma'Klee sometimes called her Woman Who Kills, and now he realized that the name was more than a primitive witch doctor's hyperbole.

Challenger helped Finn down, and they grabbed their things and made off down the slope, bending more to the right than they had been doing. In the jungle beyond, they heard men scrambling around, moving toward their former position.

Whatever was about to happen, their plans had been suddenly altered, and none of the explorers felt good about it!

They spread out and Roxton led the way toward the ruins. He had gone only a few hundred yards when the firecracker sound of a bullet passing above his head sent him to ground. Furiously, he looked to see who had fired so carelessly. But all the explorers looked baffled, having also taken cover and were looking for the shooter. Someone else here had a rifle!

He started leapfrogging upslope, keeping to cover. He noticed that Finn was following him, and they alternated between moving and covering for one another. He felt glad that she had come into their home, this wry, smart-alec beauty who had enriched all of their lives, and probably saved Marguerite's. She knew instinctively what he needed someone to do now, and was on the job!

He saw something move ahead, but couldn't shoot, as it might be one of the Zanga, also investigating.

Malone had a better view, and he fired, using a US Springfield rifle taken from Burton's bunch. (See, "A Night in the Lost World.") There came the sound of a bullet impacting flesh, and a stocky Indian body rolled downhill, snagging on a heavy fern. A rifle followed, coming to rest against the body. A Zanga!

After seeing and hearing nothing more, Roxton cautiously advanced, ensuring that the Indian was dead. Finn came up, and they examined the rifle.

It was the Model of 1908 Short Rifle, a variant on the basic Mauser '98, about the same length as Malone's M1903 Springfield or the British service Lee-Enfield that Roxton held, having chosen it over his hunting rifles for this trip. The receiver bore a crest with five stars within a larger star and the words, "Estados Unidos do Brasil". The side of the receiver bore the manufacturer's marking, the well known German DWM company. He opened the bolt, catching the ejected cartridge. 7x57mm Mauser...

He jabbed at the marking with the stars. "Read that," he ordered Finn, their only Portuguese speaker. (In Veronica's time, the Plateau was so isolated that, although she was Anglo-Brazilian like Finn, she had no contact with fellow Brazilians from off the Plateau, hence did not speak her national language!)

"Sim, senhor," she replied, with affected humility. "Says, 'United States of Brazil', John. This is a Brazilian Army rifle. Where did this creep get one? Hey, is he even one of 'our' Zanga?!

"No," said Xma'Klee, who had recognized the dead man. "He was called Nha'Trang, and he is known to me. He stole a goat from another man last year, and Jacoba banished him. He went to live with those outcasts suborned by Xu'ac. You see what this must mean? Xu'ac is very near, and he bought some of these rifles from Burton this spring."

"Oh, bloody wonderful!" interjected Marguerite. "Next, it'll rain T-rexes. Let's go back to bed and get up all over again. I don't like the way this day is beginning."

Roxton laughed, and pulled her to him for a kiss. "It isn't the way that things begin that matter, Marguerite," he encouraged. "'All's well that ends well.'. That's what will count."

"Right, John," agreed Challenger. "Xma'Klee, have one of your reliable men take that rifle and bandolier, and we'll show him how it works. But first, let's get well ahead and under cover. This chap will have someone looking for him at any moment, and it's beginning to sound like a shooting gallery this morning. The Tecamaya will certainly get curious soon, and I don't want to be here when they arrive."

"See," jibed Finn. "I told you guys that I lusted after George because he's smart as well as strong."

"Stow it, Blondie," answered Malone. "I just killed a man, and I don't feel too good about that. Roxton, lead on. George is right. We need to be somewhere else, fast."

"True. Follow me," Roxton said. "By the way, Ned: nice shooting. You did what you had to do. Don't let it bother you. Better a dead Indian than a dead Earl of Avebury, I always say." and they moved rapidly off.

Moving quickly on, they took cover in some jungle overlooking the city at a slight elevation several hundred yards distant. Through binoculars, they could see and assess much of what they would need to know.

The most alarming thing was that a war party of some 35 men was moving out the gates, heading down the main (brick) paved road, toward the area where they had found the body and, nearby, exchanged fire with the late Nha'Trang. Everyone hoped fervently that these men wouldn't discover their presence. Probably they were investigating the thunderclaps, or just seeking the missing man.

Challenger sent Finn up a tree. Again, being smaller and lighter than the men, but blessed with a keen mind and analytical eye, she could climb higher and assess what lay below. Roxton went up a heavier, gnarled tree that had a wide lateral branch that would support his weight. The others hid and waited, as Challenger and Xma'Klee discussed what the others called down softly to them.

One of the first items that Finn noted was that a sailing craft had been brought in to the largest pier, and she could see bloodstains on its gunwales and mast. Two other vessels were alongside, having evidently brought it in to the dock. As she watched, men lifted out a dead or badly injured man, taking him along the pier into the city on a stretcher.

These vessels were about 10-12 feet long, made of hollowed trees, but fitted with higher bows and sterns made of reeds, and equipped with square sails. She described them to Roxton, lying about 15 feet to her left, and he said they reminded him of the small craft used by the Spaniards on Lake Texcoco during the latter stages oif the Conquest. This was especially true of another that now drew up, made of timbers, and larger. Clearly, these people had learned to sail on this vast lake, and the boat with the dead man had nets draped on it, suggesting that it was a fishing craft.

"Looks as if what caused the alarm was the fishing boat with the injured fellow," remarked Challenger, and all agreed, but felt sure that at least one or two shots would have been heard in town, also.

"At this point, aren't they probably concerned about the fishermen being attacked by the Xingu?" asked Veronica. "I can't see why they'd be looking for us, per se; they won't know what gunshots are."

"True", countered Malone, "but when they find that guy I had to shoot, the wound won't be one they've seen before, and we probably didn't brush out all our tracks well enough. They could still find us, and they'll know our boot prints are something different. They may know the shape of Zanga sandals, too."

Xma'Klee nodded. "Yes, they have seen our sandals before, but probably not in these present men's' lifetimes. But they will know they are not of their own kind."

Two hours later, in the Emperor's throne room:

The Tecamaya emperor, Cuauhtémoc XIV, sat at lunch with a gathering of his nobles. As was the custom, they sat on finely woven rugs, mostly cross-legged, their cotton and other robes and feathered capes and headdresses set aside.

Dishes of fish, turkey (for they had brought turkeys with them from central Mexico, generations ago), maize, beans, and squash, some seasoned with jalapeno and other peppers and spices, sat before them. The emperor was fond of venison, so of course, there was deer meat as well. He was also enamored of the drink they called chocolatl, father of the hot cocoa that it introduced to the Western European nations after the Conquest.

Cuauhtémoc's official title was not Emperor, that being the Spanish rendition of his office, to make it clearer to European peoples. His own kind referred to him as First Speaker. But he was functionally Emperor, as much so as Marcus Aurelius, Caesar Augustus, or Charles V. This was well known, and he was treated with suitable deference, even by the highest nobles of the soldierly honor societies, the Jaguar Knights and the Eagle Knights.

Cuauhtémoc stretched now, took a bite of oranges, and sipped water before passing the bowl from which he had eaten to a noble nearby, that he might have the honor of feeding from the same bowls as had the First Speaker. Sipping chocolatl, he motioned to two scantily clad slave girls who knelt at the edge of the room.

Instantly rising, they skipped lightly forward in graceful, submissive half -steps and fell on their faces before the Speaker.

"Great Lord, be not angry with us!" pleaded the taller. "Is something not well with your repast? I beg to exchange anything not utterly pleasing to your majesty!"

"It is good, girl," he replied, his voice possessed of great power, yet mild and well modulated, even a bit soft, for he had little need to speak forcefully in all but the most unusual of times.

"I desire more venison and fish. Also, bring more squash, the dish also having the maize in it, not the plain squash. And see that I have more chocolatl. That is all. You may leave."

The girls rose with supreme grace and femininity and hurried to the kitchen.

Cuauhtémoc turned to his vizier. "The shorter slave interests me," he intoned. "After they serve today, have her taken to my harem. She will no longer serve in the kitchen. Have her bathed and perfumed and brought to me tonight with the other girl already selected. They will make a nice pair to enjoy before I sleep. Now, what of the patrols?"

"Lord, Great Speaker," the vizier answered, "we await word momentarily. The scouts should have returned by now. Ah; I see the head warrior now, at the door. Shall I motion him to enter?"

Cuauhtémoc nodded, and waited for the man to come before him as he sat near a shaded window, the sun and breeze giving the room a pleasant afternoon ambiance. Vividly colored cotton curtains swayed gently with the incoming draft.

"Well?" demanded the vizier of the warrior." What did you find? Who killed that fisherman?"

"Highness, "he responded, "We found a second man, the brother of the fisherman. He was two miles down shore, as the other man said, beheaded. There were bare footprints and sandal prints around the body, which we believe are Xingu, and other footprints that were mostly brushed out. These led back on the trail and we followed, soon finding fresh prints not erased.

"These prints were of sandals, but not ours. And there were other prints of different footwear, heavier, not a sandal, I think. There was a larger set, and a smaller, that of a woman, we think. These tracks led back into the jungle, but we cast about and found signs of a camp and also found the body of a man we think was a Zanga, the largest tribe here, whom we have not seen for many years.

"He had been killed by some projectile that tore open his chest and made a worse wound as it left his back. No arrow or spear we know could have done this. There were tracks of perhaps 40 people, including a few women, leading away, but they were soon obscured. We hurried back to report, so have not pursued, as we were fewer than the intruders. However, we also found a second band of Zanga above the dead man, and they seem to be following the other group."

"Have you eaten?" asked the First Speaker.

"No, Lord, we have just returned, and I hastened to your presence."

"Join us, then," said Cuauhtémoc. He gestured to a third slave girl to bring water and chocolatl for the man, and he sat thinking as the hungry warrior ate eagerly, if deferentially.

"I have decided to get to the bottom of this," he announced. "Xo'Chitl, when you have eaten, gather 600 men and divide them into two groups. One will go ahead, and ascend the ridge above where you think these intruders are. The other will then move upslope as the first band moves down. Catch these people between you. Kill as few as needed, for we require extra sacrifices for the impending holiday. Bring their leaders and a few of their others before me, that I may see them and pronounce judgement. You have drawings of the footprints?"

The warrior nodded, saying that artists were improving the sketches and that they would arrive soon. Also included was a sketch of a strangely dressed man seen entering the jungle beyond them.

Cuauhtémoc nodded, and accepted fresh dishes from the slaves, now back from the kitchen. He turned the talk to the upcoming Ball Game and a raid that he wanted to conduct on some nearby tribes who had paid less tribute than expected. The mighty god, Smoking Mirror, needed to be appeased by the blood of humans, and it was time to take more prisoners before the next week's celebration of the full moon began.

In late afternoon, having eaten lunch in the shadows of the jungle, the explorers were discussing how best to enter the city and how to determine where the treasure might lie, when a scout returned to announce that the renegade Zanga were moving above them, and might attack at any time.

Roxton and Challenger quickly conferred, putting their group into a formation of two elements forward, with a third group following the rightmost group, putting the bulk of their force on the side most likely to be attacked.

"If they attack our right flank, we can face right and counterattack, said Roxton. " Let's hope they don't slip around and hit that party on the left, with no backing group."

They moved forward, seeking the shelter of some rocks ahead, from which they could make a stand and foray against the enemy.

Alas, they had just moved forward when word came that the Tecamaya were coming downhill in force, and that blocking elements were coming upslope as well, hundreds of them, effectively sandwiching them between those lines!

A general free-for-all skirmish began, and the explorers became separated, with Roxton, Marguerite, and Veronica with one group, and Challenger, Finn, Malone, and Sa'eera with another, running ahead of the closing Tecamaya lines. Both sides were exchanging rifle fire with the rival Zanga and the Tecamaya archers and slingers as the latter came into range.

Challenger's party, being in the front, slipped away, but the rear group was cornered in some rocks as the Tecamaya lines converged into a ring, trapping them.

The Tecamaya war chief called across a demand to surrender, saying that all would be butchered if they fought. Indeed, most of the renegade Zanga had been killed, and the Tecamaya had captured Xu'ac and his chief henchmen.

After conferring, the whites agreed to give up, knowing that later escape was their only hope. "Perhaps they don't know about George and the others, and they can rescue us," Roxton hoped. "Otherwise, we'll just use our wits and see what we can manage. We've always coped before."

He hugged Marguerite to him and they swore to free one another, if at all possible. They hid their handguns and knives under rocks and gave themselves up to the Tecamaya, who were communicating through Marguerite, the only one who could speak their tongue, called Nahuatl, the language of the Aztec. Their speech had Maya overtones and complete words, but was primarily as described, and she found that she could converse well enough. (NOTE: The only place where the author has heard Nahuatl spoken was in a movie, "Captain From Castile", starring Tyrone Power and made in about 1947-49. In that film, the actress portraying Mallinali/Dona Marina spoke that tongue to Montezuma's ambassadors to Hernan Cortes. If you can locate this DVD, I strongly suggest buying it. It is a fine drama, a romance as well as the account of the Conquest. In it, you will see authentic Aztec regalia as I have never otherwise seen it in a movie. Reference books are required for any further study. Cortes was played by Caesar Romero, a well known actor until the 1960's, I believe. Watch for Jay Silverheels, later famous as the Lone Ranger's Tonto on TV. He was actually a Mohawk, not an Aztec. Very good actor, though.)

The Tecamaya captain, Xo'Chitl, had the men captives tied with their hands in front, then a stick was passed before their elbows and their elbows bound to that. Marguerite and Veronica, the only women present, were treated with relative scorn, although certainly not without interest. Their hands were simply tied behind them, and Marguerite was leashed to the waist of Xo'Chitl, who had the male prisoners fastened to one another with ropes at their waists, in three groups of five each, Roxton at the head of one group. All the others in their party had escaped, at least for the moment. The captain kept Marguerite on a close leash, partly as she was a pretty prize and partly because he needed her to speak to the others of her kind. Veronica was leashed to the waist of his second-in-command. She glared fiercely at their captors, who laughed at her and made jokes about girls who carried weapons and whose men were so weak as to allow that, or feel the need for the practice.

They began the descent to the city, watched furtively from the jungle beyond by those who had remained free.

"I can kill any of those bastards you want, George," offered Finn, knowing full well that her comment was futile in view of circumstances. She raged inside, seeing her virtual family members being led away by the enemy.

Challenger realized her frustration and anger, and calmed her, saying that they had better not antagonize the Tecamaya further at this point, instead gathering their own survivors and making a sound plan.

"They probably won't harm our friends at once," he reasoned. "Their emperor will want to interrogate the whites, at least, and even their sacrifices would be after some preparation, mainly at dawn or on special occasions. They were sprucing up that ball court and showed a lot of activity there. Maybe they'll offer sacrifices before or after those games. But probably, not tonight." He reached out to Finn, who came into his arms, putting her head on his shoulder, almost managing not to cry. She was tough, but she loved the missing, and the tears came, nonetheless. Challenger felt his eyes also flow, and they resolved to do all in their power to recover their own.

There were shouts to the left of them, and Xma'Klee and other Zanga dragged in two of the renegades.

An idea struck Sa'eera, who was drying her own tears. She strode purposefully up to the two captives and demanded, "Do you know who I am? Speak, if you would live!"

Even Xma'Klee looked taken aback. This was a forceful, angry queen, whom he had not seen before.

When the captives admitted that they knew her identity, she asked them coldly if they wished to live, and when they fervently assured her that this was so, she asked if they would repudiate their treason and join her own friends, in exchange for a royal pardon. "Xu'ac has been taken by the Tecamaya," she informed them, "and he will surely die. I so decree it. My husband, King of all the Zanga, has charged the Supreme Shaman and me with the responsibility of slaying him if he could be found, and for his perfidy, even unto this day, he will perish. But for your fresh oath of loyalty to me and to my husband, I promise you life, although you may have to live in a village of your own, removed from the main Zanga cantonments, as you have been doing, anyway. He among you who helps faithfully and especially well, for him shall I ask special mercy from Royal Jacoba, that he may rejoin our people and live where he will.

"If you swear loyalty to Jacoba now, I will send you to your friends, and have any of them who also wish to live, accept the same offer. They may then join us, and redeem themselves. What say you?"

All were stunned; then, the two renegades fell to their knees, thanking the queen for her mercy and saying that indeed most among them would probably accept her offer.

"Xu'ac led us astray," one complained. "He told lies about your husband and about his own false powers. Clearly, he has fallen. We wish to again be full members of our own tribe."

And so, the two swore oaths to Queen Sa'eera and to Jacoba, and went in search of their friends, who began trickling in. A few, not trusting her, or so connected to Xu'ac that they dared not surrender, refused, but even these promised that they would flee to their own homes, and not molest the others.

This cut the odds against the explorers and their Zanga allies considerably, and all sought cover for the night, to eat and to plan. They now had nearly 60 persons in their group.

Sa'eera felt many eyes on her, and saw that those whom she had reprieved looked to her in gratitude and some, even with awe. Even Xma'Klee and the whites came to her and expressed their surprise and appreciation for her action. Truly, she felt regal, although when darkness fell, she went to Finn and Challenger and unseen by the others, clung to them and asked their reassurance. This was given, and Finn even pulled Sa'eera to her and kissed her cheek.

"I am SO proud of you, Sa'eera," she said. "You were fully a queen today, even if the youngest of Jacoba's wives. He will surely swell in pride when he hears of your deeds."

And so, they gathered their things and put together a cold meal, filled canteens and water skins, and planned their next action.

As the shadows lengthened, the Tecamaya war party returned to their city, amid cheers and spears being struck against shields in exultation.

The captain had most of the prisoners put into enclosures where captives were retained until sacrifice, but Roxton, Marguerite, Veronica, and a few Zanga were singled out and led directly to Cuauhtémoc, who had been notified by runner that the army was returning, victorious.

Led into the throne room, the explorers were surprised to see a tall man of regal countenance, seated on a throne made from carved wood and the carapace and horns of a Triceratops, gilded with carved gold and inlays of ivory. He wore a long loincloth of fine cotton, dyed in stripes of red, green, and black, and he wore a cloak of quetzal feathers and a wide headdress of eagle, quetzal, and other rare, glorious feathers, the bases set in gold, and with a golden headband. He wore an intricate gold pectoral, and had a dagger sheathed in white beaded leather at his waist. His chief courtiers and senior war captains were also splendidly regaled, and the vizier, standing behind the throne to the emperor's left, was almost as resplendent as the First Speaker, himself.

The floor and walls were of colorful tiles, depicting Aztec and Maya deities, colorful birds, and animals. Vivid decorative rugs were strewn about the floor, and water flowed from a fountain into a large pool, in which fish and turtles swam, and a small caiman loitered behind the tiled walls.

Pleasant smells made the room fragrant, and Roxton noted several almost naked slave girls kneeling along the walls. They were easily among the best- looking Indian women he had ever seen. Even Jacoba's wives, other than perhaps Sa'eera, were no lovelier.

Led forward by her captor, Marguerite was forced to her knees and the war chief announced that this female was the only one among the captives who could speak the Language of Heaven, meaning their speech. of course.

Cuauhtémoc looked mildly concerned. "So, this woman speaks for her man and the others?"

"Even so, lord," agreed the captain.

"Speak your name, girl," said the emperor to her.

"I am called Marguerite Krux, Your Majesty," she admitted. "May I know whom I address?"

"Fool!" exclaimed the vizier. "Know you not Cuauhtémoc XIV, First Speaker of the Tecamaya, master of all that he surveys?!"

She instantly recognized the name, knowing that Montezuma's successor was named Cuauhtémoc, presumably an antecedent to this one. He had carried on a fierce campaign against Cortes, considerably prolonging the Conquest of Mexico.

"Lord Cuauhtémoc, why have we been attacked and brought here, when we came in peace, and were attacked by others, rebels of the Zanga who are with us?" She tried to seem indignant but not belligerent.

"You are intruders, and I will deal with that," he responded. "But first, tell me: is this name you gave me truly yours, or are you perhaps really known as Mallinali, or as La Malinche? What is the name of your master, this man in the odd hat?"

He is called Lord John Roxton, Majesty," she replied coolly. "And he is a high noble in our land, far from this remote plateau. We came here several years ago to explore, but have been unable to leave." She then explained their circumstances and how they had become friendly with Jacoba, present king of the Zanga, a mighty tribe, who had sent them to see if stories about this fabled city were true and if it was still occupied, to see whether the people might wish to establish trade and diplomatic negotiations.

Cuauhtémoc considered all this, and then asked slyly, "And you are originally from a land called Spain? I have heard of this Spain, and its race are said to be pale skinned, as you are."

"No, Great One, "she said, " Our country has often been at war with Spain, although we are now at peace. But I know of how these cruel Spanish took an empire from your ancestors, in a land called Mexico. That was hundreds of years ago, and was a great event in history. Your city was then larger than Venice, in Italy, and was an architectural wonder. But we had nothing to do with that."

They talked awhile longer, and Cuauhtémoc looked carefully at each of them, especially at Veronica, intrigued by her blonde hair. Marguerite explained that many women and men of her kind had this color of hair.

He had Marguerite walk to him, and boldly raised her skirt as high as it would go and ordered her to turn.

Roxton said, "Now, see here, you damned savage! You are taking far too many liberties here. That is MY woman! Unhand her, or you will answer to me. We came in peace, and you have attacked us. I demand we be set free, at once!" Marguerite, afraid, translated, omitting the "savage" part.

Cuauhtémoc raised a hand to stay a warrior who was about to strike Roxton. He said mildly, "Englishman, if so you be, remain silent unless called on to speak. You do not rule here, nor does this Jacoba, on whose tribe we have made war in the past."

He had Veronica brought to him, and felt her skin and ran her hair through his hands, curious. He looked at her soft boots, and then lifted Marguerite's skirt again, examining her heavier English boots, and looked across at Roxton's feet. He examined Veronica's knife, which had been unstrapped from her boot when she had surrendered. The sharp steel blade and the workmanship impressed him. He studied her features carefully, having never before met a woman who could fight with her hands or use a knife well. He had heard legends of the Amazons. Perhaps she was one of that kind?

He spoke to Marguerite. "Tell this girl to stand very still. I am going to have her clothes cut off. She will be the easiest to strip without unbinding her, as she has less on. Why does she dress so differently from you others?"

"Oh, Majesty!"exclaimed Marguerite. "Please don't do this. You shame us. We are emissaries of a mighty chief." But, seeing the anger and resolve in his face, she turned and translated his words to Veronica.

"The hell with this!" raged the blonde beauty. She lashed out with a foot and tripped a man, kicking him when he landed. She drove an elbow as far to the left behind her as she could with her wrists bound, into the stomach of the captain who had taken them prisoner. "You BASTARD!" she screamed at Cuauhtémoc. "Untie me and SEE if you can get my clothes off!"

Roxton also roared in anger, and men rushed to restrain both. There was a shocked murmur in the room. Prisoners did not behave like this before the First Speaker...

"Have this girl's elbows also bound to her sides, and if she continues to resist, knock her unconscious if that it what it takes. I do not wish her cut as she is divested of her raiment. Tell her, Marguerite. "

When Marguerite had told Veronica, the latter stood quietly as her arms were tied just above her elbows, but she was clearly on the verge of another outburst, and Marguerite begged her to be still.

Cuauhtémoc sensed this, and raised his voice. "Marguerite! Tell your insolent friend and your man that if any of you shows further resistance, I will have you all strung up by your feet, suspended above a fire on which we will burn chili peppers, also called jalapenos. The smoke will ravage your faces and lungs, and you will suffer greatly. It is how we punish our unruly children. Those allergic to this plant often die. All suffer mightily. Tell them!" He half rose from his throne, in considerable wrath.

She told them that this was not the time to show heroics, and what the emperor had said, and they grudgingly promised to submit. But the look on Roxton's face had the emperor order three more men to stand around him.

Veronica was brought forward again, and let the men remove her boots and cut away her bandeau top before her bound elbows were tied to her body. They then removed the tanned deerskin loincloth/skirt, not having to cut it off, as she stood in forced submission. She stood proudly, still insolent, in just pale pink thong panties and her beadwork armband. She turned on demand, still showing cold fury. She felt men's' eyes all over her, almost physically caressing her intimate regions. She blushed as she realized how well the high-cut thong revealed her shapely bottom, and wished that she had worn conventional bikini panties this day.

A warrior started to cut off the panties, but Cuauhtémoc told him to slip them off intact and bring them to him. Veronica submitted, afraid to resist, lest her only remaining garment be sheared and useless. The threat of that smoky fire had also impressed her more than she showed: she had heard of the suffering that it caused.

Cuauhtémoc turned the panties in his hands and asked what this garment was called. Told, he asked if Marguerite also wore these.

"Yes, Majesty, but if I must be disrobed, please untie me, and I will strip on my own. I want my clothes intact. I swear that I will cause no trouble. "

He nodded, and her wrists were freed. He took her boots and examined them, again looking at Veronica's. He found her switchblade knife in its leather pocket in one boot, and she explained to him how to release the safety and push a button to make the blade spring out. Cuauhtémoc was startled, angry that his expression must have reflected his surprise as the knife opened. Glowering, he set it aside with their other clothes and weapons, to be studied more carefully later.

Her remaining clothes, he turned carefully, noting a bit of tissue paper in her shirt pocket. When she stepped from her lavender panties, he felt the lace trim and saw that they matched the color of her blouse. He had her place her hands on her head and turn slowly, and ran his hands through her hair, examining the texture, noting that it was kinkier and curlier than Veronica's. The First Speaker was a careful, very observant man.

"Bind her again, the wrists only, if she behaves," he ordered. He raised his eyebrows in inquiry, and Marguerite nodded as she placed her hands behind her back to be tied. "I will offer no trouble, Majesty. I am your prisoner. I fear what you may do to me and to those whom I love. I am no fool."

"I see that you are a wise as well as lovely woman, Marguerite," acknowledged the emperor. "When you are bound, kneel next to your friend." He motioned to the man guarding Veronica. "Bring the dramatic girl forward and kneel her here, just to my right. I want a man standing behind each girl, holding her hair."

He then had Roxton brought before him and after direly warning him what would happen if he attacked, had the bonds removed, and carefully examined his clothes also, as they were passed to him. He removed the pocketknife from the the trousers and asked its purpose.

"It is a knife that folds," admitted Roxton. "Be careful if you open it. It is very sharp, and I don't want you cut, until I can do that, myself." His face was a study in repressed violence. He turned on command, uneasy with the stare of another man on him, even in intellectual curiosity.

Marguerite saw from the corner of her eye that Veronica was also gazing admiringly at Roxton, and turned to say something to her, but Veronica anticipated this, and whispered, "Marguerite, please forgive me for staring, but I've never seen John really nude before. He's even more handsome than I knew. You are so lucky to have this man's heart. And all the rest! Look at those muscles. He even has a really cute, firm butt...and other things!" She stifled a giggle as the emperor turned inquiringly toward the women. But Cuauhtémoc guessed her meaning, and smiled slightly. "Females," he thought...

He had Roxton rebound, then briefly looked over Xu'ac, who interested him less, being a fellow Indian and thus familiar to him. Nonetheless, he noted the powerful physique of both men. The ripple of toned muscles that had excited Veronica interested him for other reasons. These men were strong warriors, and he reached a decision on how to exploit this, for the entertainment of his people.

He next had a rifle brought to him, one of the Mauser military 7mm's taken from a Zanga. He examined it, in spite of Roxton's terse warning that it was a powerful, mysterious weapon that could do great harm if handled carelessly. He asked the war captain how these weapons had been used.

Told, he handed the rifle to a man and had him point it out the window and pull the trigger, the only thing that seemed to move easily without definite, heavier pressure. The chamber was loaded, and the thunderous blast shook the room, bringing an expression of horror and dismay even to the face of the previously confident Cuauhtémoc, who flushed in anger at being frightened before his subjects. The slave girls screamed and fell to the floor, begging mercy. Everyone's ears rang from the shot, contained even in that large space with several wide windows.

When they had recovered from the loud noise, the now composed -but- uneasy Cuauhtémoc ordered the strange weapons and clothing to be taken at once to a treasure room in the palace, and kept there until he could examine them at leisure after tomorrow's ball game.

He kept the two pairs of panties, commanding a slave girl to come and take them to be washed in the harem. "Have the harem mistress clean them and keep them in a safe place," he ordered. "Have girls they might fit try them on. I wish to have slaves occasionally brought to me in these soft garments. They enhance a woman's looks and will provide me some variety in costuming my girls."

He next asked if the Zanga, other than Xu'ac, were other than warriors of their tribe. Told that this was their status, he ordered them left in the cells where they were, and sent the few in the room to join them.

"Now," spoke Cuauhtémoc. "I have decided on the fate of these who have invaded us. The English lord and his Zanga enemy will fight one another to the death with sword-clubs, what we call 'maquahuitls', the one-handed sort. The two-handed form will be unneeded for power, and the other is easier to manage in man-to-man battle. This contest will be late tomorrow morning, before lunch, that it not interfere with the sacred ball game, but when it will entertain our people before that game. "

He continued. "The winner of that match will be treated for his wounds, if he is not mortally injured, and will be held in a cell until he recovers. He will be fed with the best foods, even given honey. When healed, he will be placed on display by day in my zoo, that our people may examine him and see my power over foreigners. By night, he will have special quarters in the palace, and if he behaves well, will enjoy women twice a week. In fact, if this Roxton triumphs, I may even send Marguerite to him on occasion, if I select another girl for that night. I am a kind man, you see."

Marguerite broke out crying, crawling to the emperor's feet, begging him to reconsider. "I will do anything you ask of me, Majesty, " she pleaded. "But please spare this wonderful man who has done you no harm. He has never used that weapon. He is tired from a long journey. Please, I beg you! Have two of the rebel Zanga fight, instead!"

Roxton spoke sharply to her, telling her that she was disgracing them both, and their entire race. More tenderly, he added that he didn't intend to lose, and reminded her that the emperor had promised that they might see one another at times if he lived.

A man brought a broad leather strap kept in the throne room, lest a serving girl be clumsy or show the slightest arrogance. "Shall I strike her, First Speaker?" he asked.

"No, stay!" ordered the emperor. "She is not being rebellious; she is merely a woman deeply in love, unable to compose herself on hearing this news of her man's mortal danger. Help her kneel upright, and this time, do not let her slip your grasp on her hair. Marguerite: look directly upon my face. Few mortals are allowed that privilege, but I want to be sure that you understand me and believe me."

"I believe you, Majesty", she wept, "but what if Lord Roxton loses?"

"Then, Xu'ac will receive the favored treatment I mentioned, and you will have to be content with me, ruler of all that I survey. However, I will not give you to Xu'ac at all, if Roxton fights his best. He will die knowing that his woman will not lie with his foe. This, I promise, for I am a compassionate man, and I sense now the full measure of devotion which must exist between you and this mighty warrior who owns your heart as well as your body."

"Thank you for at least that much, Emperor," interjected Roxton. "You show me great consideration. But I mean to win, and to have Marguerite whenever you will allow it. I will NOT lose this fight. You hear me, Xu'ac, you traitor? Tomorrow, you die!"

Xu'ac smirked, but said nothing. This was not the time for dramatics, and he had swung a macquahuitl before. Roxton had not.

"I continue", said Cuauhtémoc. "Marguerite will be my slave, but beyond her obvious uses, I wish to talk often with her about the world beyond our bounds, and learn how she speaks our language and many other things. If she behaves, she will receive preferential treatment, and my girls live well in that harem.

"The girl with hair like the sun will be taken tomorrow to the ball arena, to be displayed in a cage, that all may see her. She will then be awarded to the captain of the winning team. However, "he thought suddenly," I really should offer that winner the choice of this Veronica or any other woman in Xochilenque who is not married or otherwise the property of any free man. If the winner chooses a different female, Veronica will be added to my harem, except that she will often be displayed in the menagerie in a cage next to whichever man wins the gladiatorial contest. I will give her for three nights at a time to whichever warrior captures the most prisoners in each six-month cycle. Otherwise, she will please me.

"Oh: before the ball game, her cage will be placed behind a reed shield or be taken below the stadium, that her beauty not distract the players, who are, after all, competing for their lives as well as for victory in the game."

He knew which captain would probably win the game, and knew that he was secretly in love with one of Cuauhtémoc own daughters. The emperor actually approved of the match, and was almost certain that the winner would choose his daughter over Veronica. Thus, he could generously offer Veronica as a prize, and yet be fairly sure that she would be added to his own women, without seeming greedy, especially if she was also displayed to the public. He was happy that he had thought of this option.

"Take the men away, and have them cleaned up and fed well. Keep them in strong cells, but apart, so that one will not kill the other until the appointed time. Take the girls to rooms here in the east wing of the palace, and have girls from the harem bathe and perfume them and give them good things to eat. They need not be bound after being confined, but place two guards on each of their doors, and lock them well."

Marguerite thought quickly. "Majesty? May I beg that Veronica and I be confined in the same room? We are friends, and we are but women, frightened this first night in our captivity in your great palace. Also, I wish to talk with her, that she may understand the gravity of making any more outbursts. She is like my sister, and I do not wish her to have to be punished. Also, "she smiled saucily, "I know her to be a vain girl. If I explain how she will be admired by the many who will come to see her, I think she will be almost eager to be placed on display, if I calm her fears about this new place."

Cuauhtémoc stared, surprised at this comment. Then, the emperor threw back his head and began laughing. As soon as they saw that it was acceptable, his entourage also laughed, looking with much amusement at Veronica.

"What?!" demanded Miss Layton. "Marguerite, what did you say to him?"

Marguerite ignored her. "Please, Majesty? I fear to be alone tonight, and I will also teach her to move well before men and show her a dance that will please you when we perform for your pleasure." She widened her eyes, sending a signal of admiration for his power and desire to serve him to Cuauhtémoc. It was a sign that a man was unlikely to misinterpret, although he knew her to be Roxton's woman. Marguerite blushed and straightened her body, making sure that her bare breasts thrust forward, drawing the emperor's interest and approval. She looked at the Emperor with parted lips, a saucy look on her face.

He smiled. "Very well, girl. See that she understands her role here, and how much it means that I have honored her as the woman to be offered as prize to the winner of this sacred game. That man will be the champion athlete of all our people, and the girl I present to him deserves to feel pride in being displayed before our city." He chuckled, joined again. by the others.

He addressed the slave girl again. "Go with these girls and see where they are confined, then, as I said, bring another girl and materials to bathe and perfume them, and provide their food. Leave a large jug of water for them. When you have groomed them and they have eaten, give them clothing similar to yours, but with more intricate beadwork, and some colorful feathers. Choose loincloths that reveal almost all of their beauty, but which accentuate and enhance it. The harem mistress will know what I want. They can wear sandals, but have them fastened no higher than the ankles.

"When they have tried on several outfits, have them choose what is most suitable and leave them alone. Be sure they have mattresses and blankets, and leave a lamp on so that Marguerite can show Veronica how to pose and walk her best. I expect to be impressed tomorrow, girls." He looked meaningfully at Marguerite.

"Do as I have said. The vizier and the chief priest wll remain with me briefly, to discuss the sacrifice schedule. Everyone else will go now. I will see you all at the arena in the morning. Tell whoever brings the girls to lead them on golden leashes. They can remain unbound until they are taken from their room after breakfast. After tying Veronica's hands, fasten them then to her waist. In fact, secure Marguerite that way, also, lest she lose control of herself if Roxton is killed or injured. Veronica's ankles are to be hobbled some eight inches apart as she is placed in her cage. I do not want this fierce little bird kicking the winner of the ball game as he claims his prize. "He paused as several laughed at the thought of Veronica doing just that.

"That is all," he concluded. "Sleep well. Tomorrow, we feast and revel in TWO contests, instead of the ball game alone that we expected."

As the girls were led out, Cuauhtémoc overheard Veronica ask Marguerite again what she had said about her. He did not know her words, but the meaning was obvious to him, the tone and inflection. Marguerite's answer was sweetly toned, a bit wry, thought the First Speaker. Veronica's strident response was again easily grasped, and Cuauhtémoc smiled. This had been a fine day. He should have days like it more often, he decided. And he chuckled once more, before motioning the vizier and the priest toward his throne.

The entourage went down the corridor outside the throne room, Roxton and Xu'ac being taken one way, and the women another. The nobles of the court and unneeded warriors went their own ways.

Veronica and Marguerite found themselves led up a stairwell and down a long hall, then to the left. At the end of this hall was a spacious room, and Marguerite noted with a thrill that it actually had open windows! Alas, they were instead placed in a room next to it on the left, windowless.

Veronica's arms were unbound, and then her wrists and she was pushed into the room while Marguerite was untied. As the guard unbound her, Marguerite managed to lean back and make brief body contact with him, something that caused the still irate Veronica to narrow her eyes.

The guards shut and locked the door, and Veronica asked quite tartly if Marguerite was afraid that Roxton would be defeated, and was already currying favor with the closest man at hand. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was embarrassed, and immediately apologized.

"It's all right, Vee." said Marguerite politely, watching her wince at her use of Finn's pet nickname for her "big sister." Veronica had grown to accept this from Finn, whom she loved, in spite of her sometimes odd "future speech" and slang terms. But she knew that when Marguerite called her "Vee", she was being sarcastic, or simply needling her because she was in a foul mood. Thank goodness, that happened much less often these days than had once been the case.

"Veronica," continued Marguerite. "I love John so intensely that I would faint from terror if I let myself think what he is going through tonight, let alone what may happen tomorrow. But we have to think of the worst, and plan for it. If John is killed, I want some of these guards thinking I'm impressed with them, or just a woman who can't help reacting to her hormones when a big, strong man is around. The image that creates will do me more good than if they see me thinking too much, or acting bitchy. I want them to get careless with pretty little me, and not watch for anything I may try. I suggest, sweetie that you dismount that high horse you're riding, and start thinking of how we can flourish here until the time comes to take French leave of this charming city. Are you following me?"

"So, you were sort of vamping that man to get him to underestimate you later?" queried Veronica.

"I see that the principle can be grasped even by a blonde," chirped Marguerite. "There may be hope for you yet, Miss Layton." But she tempered her words by reaching out and taking Veronica's hands and pulling her in for a hug. "Oh, Veronica! Please understand. We will need all the help we can get. I admire your pluck, but if you hadn't kicked that man in the throne room, maybe your ankles wouldn't be getting hobbled tomorrow, when being able to use your legs might be crucial."

Veronica returned the hug, both girls now affectionate. Veronica even apologized again for staring at Roxton, and Marguerite told her that she realized that it was a compliment to her that the other girl was so impressed with her man. "Just limit yourself to looking; I'll do all the touching," she quipped, and both women laughed.

They quickly searched the room, which was some 20-by-20 feet, but found no sign of any hidden doors or other possible escapes.

After further talk, Marguerite showed Veronica how to swing her hips slightly more as she walked, and how to manage a sultry stroll that screamed, Look at Me to any man within sight. She emphasized the need to blush on demand and to look shyly down and showed Veronuca how to widen her eyes and look admiringly at a man, projecting desire and admiration of him in a way that would speak volumes to the male ego.

They were interrupted by the arrival of three girls from the harem, with men bearing basins of warm water and cosmetics. The girls were astonishingly lovely, and Veronica felt almost gawky, watching their graceful movements. She began to appreciate just how seductive Marguerite could be, and her estimation of her housemate grew. This was a situation where Marguerite's subtle sexuality would easily pay more dividends than her own aggressive Tomboy attitude, and she began paying attention to how the others did things. If nothing else, she thought, I am going to come out of this able to draw Mr. Edward Malone's eyes out of their sockets just by sauntering past him. Then, she missed Ned so acutely that she started to cry, which scared her. Miss High and Mighty, she realized, was in love, and more vulnerable emotionally than she had ever been, except when missing her parents. She suddenly felt very female, and decided that it was nice. She felt a warm glow spread through her, and the other girls suddenly looked at her intently.

She explained that she missed a man not present, and was aroused at the prospect of having to please the First Speaker or the warrior who won the ball game.

The others understood, and one girl and Marguerite hugged her and told her how lovely she looked in her realization of vulnerability.

Before leaving, the girls opened a pouch and showed the Treehouse women several brief outfits, insisting that each try on three such items.

In the end, everyone agreed that Marguerite looked best in a loincloth of intricate blue, black and green beadwork, with six feathers of exotic birds dangling in front from the slim crocodile leather belt. It was the same in back, save for the lack of the feathers, which would be crushed as she sat, if present. The portion of the loincloth whch passed between her legs and up to the belt in back was plain soft cotton, in deep chocolate brown. She was also fitted with golden earrings and a pair of sandals trimmed in bead work.

Veronica chose a similar loincloth of ocelot fur sewn to a brief black cloth panel. The half-inch strand of leather around her waist was trimmed with hollow blue, yellow, and green beads. Like Marguerite's, her loincloth hung down only some six inches below that portion of her anatomy that she most wished to conceal , and the width of the cloth was only three inches. The ocelot fur covered all the panel, front and back, save for perhaps an eighth of an inch of black trim. She was allowed to retain her own beaded armband, and was given a beaded headband that held her hair in place, crossing the center of her forehead. This was white, with red, blue, yellow, and green patterns. Her sandals were dark brown, to bring out the color of the ocelot hide. Like Marguerite's, they tied around her ankles.

Both women were embarrassed by their limited clothing, and Veronica asked where her top was. The Tecamaya girls tittered when Marguerite translated, and said that the people would wish to look upon her magnificent breasts without obstruction.

As exposed as they felt, the Treehouse dwellers had to admit, on critically examining one another, that they were exotic visions of primitive loveliness, and confessed to each other that they felt incredibly beautiful and desirable.

"But I need to get some more clothes before Ned sees me again," worried Veronica. "He'd think I was 'slutty to the max', as Finn would say, if he saw me displaying myself like this in public."

"That's the least of our worries right now," reminded Marguerite. "Let's just look our erotic best for now, and maybe seeing me like this will make John fight harder to stay alive to gawk at me more. Oh, Veronica! What if he loses?!" And she broke into tears.

Veronica comforted her, as did one of the others on learning what caused her tears, until she subsided to sniffling and asked for a cloth to blot her face.

Their loincloths and accessories were yielded to the senior girl from the harem, who promised to arrive early enough in the morning for them to apply makeup and adjust what there was of their attire before they were bound and leashed. They would also be allowed breakfast of eggs and fruit, said the lead girl. The other two gave them jealous looks, and Marguerite realized that settling into the harem might not be easy. She was glad that Veronica might be with her, at least some of the time. She resolved to court the friendship of the lead girl, who was firm, but not unfriendly, and who seemed to want both girls to look their best for the First Speaker.

Left alone behind their locked door, they talked, and Marguerite coached Veronica in Middle East dance by the light of the oil lamp. The Layton lass had seen her friend dance in the Zanga village before, as she instructed Sa'eera and Finn, but had been injured at the time, unable to join them. She found now that the subtle, erotic movements were harder to achieve than she'd thought, and her respect for Finn and the young Zanga queen increased. At the same time, she felt incredibly alive and female as she learned to pivot her pelvis and follow Marguerite's leg motions, and in time, Marguerite pronounced her at least adequate to appear before the emperor or other important men.

"I'll tell them I need to coach you more, and they'll give us time together," she observed, and they set the oil lamp in the corner and retired to their bedding.

After trying to sleep, Veronica moved next to Marguerite and held hands with her until both drifted off to a troubled slumber. At one point, Marguerite woke, and Veronica felt her body shudder with sobbing as she tried to come to terms with the horror that might ruin her life as Roxton battled for his. Veronica reached out to her, and they went to sleep, holding one another, utterly exhausted.

A mile above the city, Challenger and the others who had escaped sat, munching what rations they had retained in their flight. The Zanga who had rifles had been taught the basics, but neither he nor Finn entertained any real confidence that the Indians would be able to hit a Tecamaya target except through chance. They lacked the mindset for real marksmanship, and many thought that it was the loud noise that killed, not the skilled placement of a bullet. Most would also blanch with shock from the recoil when they actually pulled triggers on loaded rifles, but any bullets they launched might connect, if only by coincidence, especially if the Tecamaya charged en masse. The crude muskets used by Cortés's men had been inaccurate at any distance, yet had killed a number of Aztecs, simply because they shot into crowded ranks of the enemy. Indeed, the Americans at Lexington and Concord had lacked the accuracy of their frontier riflemen who would emerge as the Revolution progressed, able to kill at extended distances. But they had fired the Shots Heard Around the World, and inflicted considerable casualties with their muskets and fowling pieces before melting away from a British bayonet charge. Challenger convinced Finn that these Mauser-bearing Zanga would be useful, even if it was unrealistic to teach them her own cool, precision marksmanship in anything like the time they had available.

"Besides," he encouraged, "You, Ned, and I can aim at the Tecamaya leaders, and throw them into confusion if we have to fight a pitched battle."

She concurred, and they began plotting how and when to make a meaningful rescue. Not knowing the schedule of their enemies, they decided on a reconnaissance tonight, in hopes of at least learning where their friends were held.

After eating, they slept as best they could until the moon was high and most people in Xochilenque would be abed. Then, Finn, Sa'eera, Xma'Klee, Challenger, and a few Zanga armed with their traditional weapons slipped down the slopes and entered the city by means of a tree that they had seen to overhang the back wall, which was being encroached on by the jungle in places.

They scouted the zoo, but left quickly when the big cats, foxes, and even the fat little dogs raised for food began a din that brought several Tecamaya spearmen. In time, things settled down, the Tecamaya probably supposing that some ocelot or margay had entered the city and passed by the cages.

Sticking to the shadows, they crept close to the palace, and entered. Unfortunately, they found no indication of any obvious place where their friends might be held, and glumly decided to withdraw before they were discovered. They decided to scout two more corridors, and Finn and Sa'eera went down one, the others down another.

{DISCLAIMER: the actions taken by Finn in the following scene are deadly close combat techniques, taught to British and US intelligence operatives, Commando, and OSS personnel by Col. Rex Applegate and Maj. William Fairbairn, and are detailed in such works as Applegate's, "Kill or Get Killed", published by the Department of the Army and in subsequent editions by Paladin Press. These are not procedures to be practiced at home or indulged in for "horseplay" by fans who like to act out things seen in movies or on television. Use of these procedures can, and probably will, result in death or grievous bodily harm, and the author and this site assume NO responsibility for anyone attempting to mimic the actions described. Remember, Finn was dealing in earnest with a deadly foe, and her actions improperly applied may result in charges of murder or negligent homicide if undertaken in any circumstances but self defense in the gravest extreme. They DO constitute use of deadly force and should be considered in that light.}

Finn ventured past a doorway that led into a storeroom, and as she passed, a Tecamaya stepped out from the darkened room and seized her! He held her around the arms from behind, and she felt him draw breath to shout a warning. Sa'eera barely sidestepped, and looked on in horror.

Finn quickly stepped left, bent her knees and struck back with the edge of her right hand into the groin of her attacker. He released her arms and she drove her right elbow hard into his face, and he reeled back, tripping over her leg, which she extended for that purpose. As the man tried to recover, and rose half up, Finn struck hard with the heel of her cupped hand, driving it with all of her 115 pounds weight into the warrior's face above the lip, angling the power of the blow up into the nose and center face. The bone she shattered was forced up into the man's brain, and he was dying, even as she struck with all her might at his throat with the edge of her hand against his Adam's apple. The Tecamaya died in convulsions, horrifying Sa'eera, and impressing even Finn.

They dragged the body back into the room, and paused as they heard a frantic scuffle in the dark. Someone shot past them, fleeing for the open door. Instinctively recognizing the figure as female, Finn ran her down and tackled her in the hall, as Sa'eera ran up.

Finn got her hand over the woman's mouth, but was having a hard time holding her when Challenger and Xma'Klee arrived and subdued the girl. They held her down with Challenger's knife at her throat as Finn stripped the girl of her loincloth and cut it in two, using half to tie her hands behind her. The other half became a crude gag.

Looking around desperately, they hid the male body in the room, Challenger's flashlight picking out bundles of cloths and reed matting. They covered the dead man in a corner and left, closing the door.

Once clear of the palace, they crept away into the shadows as a dog began barking somewhere.

Carefully, they made their way to the wall and passed the girl over the top to Zanga warriors waiting on the other side. Then, the raiders also went over the wall, and all withdrew into the jungle, taking time to bind the girl more carefully with leather thongs and adjust her gag.

Finally, well clear of the city, they went to ground in a cluster of rocks that had become their temporary base, and told everyone what had happened.

"Finn was so brave!", exclaimed Sa'eera. "I thought we were lost when that man took her by the arms, but she slew him in seconds, so savagely! I had no idea that a woman could do such a thing!" She was still excited, breathing heavily, her eyes bright.

"I'm still scared, myself," gasped Finn, and she reached for Challenger. "George thanks for coming so quickly. I don't know what would have happened if this chick had gotten away."

"I think I know what would have happened, and so do you, "he replied, also shaken. "We would probably be awaiting sacrifice on these heathens' altars, of no use to our friends, who need us desperately. We were fools to take this chance."

"It was a finely done thing," agreed Xma'Klee. "But what else could we do? And now, we have this girl, who can probably tell us much that we wish to know. Tie her feet, and let us remove the gag. We had better ask questions now, while we may be able to act on what she tells us."

So, the girl was forced to kneel within a circle of the explorers and despite Ned Malone's protests, subjected to interrogation.

Alas, she spoke no Zanga, and English or other European tongues were even more useless.

"We lost a vital resource when they captured Marguerite," admitted a glum Challenger.

Xma'Klee had been studying the girl's face and the remains of her ripped clothes carefully, and now he spoke to her in a language that none of the whites had ever heard. She looked at him in shock, and answered in what sounded like the same speech. All were amazed, but profoundly grateful.

After a few minutes, Xma'Klee held his water skin for the girl to drink and announced that she was not Tecamaya. Rather, she was of a tribe called the Wa'reera, whose territory bordered the distant limits of Zanga lands. Few today encountered the Wa'reera, but there had been limited trade in the past, and Xma'Klee, as a boy, had visited a Wa'reera village, and had been taught their speech well enough for basic communication, by the shaman to whom he had been apprenticed in his youth. He could grasp most of what the girl said, and they could now talk to her. But, what would she say? Would she answer at all? Would she lie, leading them into a trap?

Malone comforted the young woman, who seemed to be in her late teens or just beyond, and they noticed her looking at Sa'eera and Finn, apparently glad that there were other women present. But she also looked at Finn in evident fright, no doubt recalling how she had, in seconds, killed a strong Tecamaya warrior.

What words would she speak? Could she be made to talk at the point of a knife, or would she die bravely, protecting the Tecamaya from the remaining Treehouse crew and their Indian allies?

As Xma'Klee coaxed the girl, he fed her questions from the others. To their relief, it was soon revealed that the warrior slain by Finn was not her lover. Far from being two consenting adults trysting in a storage room while at work, the girl had been cleaning the throne room, and was on her way back to the slave kennels in the palace when a warrior who had been lusting for her of late dragged her down the hall and into the closet.

As long as it didn't cause a problem with either of their jobs, such doings were generally winked at, and the girl had gone off duty, and the warrior knew that he wouldn't be checked on soon. His supervisor was tolerant of such things, anyway. Girls such as she were fair game unless senior administrators were in the halls late.

The girl had just begun pleasing this man when he had heard Finn and Sa'eera, looked out, and seized Finn.

She said that her name was Naira, and that she had been captured two months before when the Tecamaya had devastated her village in a raid intended to spread terror among vassal tribes on one hand, and acquire slaves and sacrificial victims on the other. Her entire family had been wiped out. The sole survivors were Naira and six other girls deemed comely enough to serve their captors and about twenty unfortunates destined for the altars of Hummingbird and Smoking Mirror, the Tecamaya deities who thirsted for human blood as their price for providing presumed beneficent oversight of the savage kingdom of their worshippers. Naira had no love for the Tecamaya.

Prompted by the others, she told which buildings in Xochilenque were which, and the general hierarchy of the tribe. Better yet, the girls from the harem who had tended Marguerite and Veronica had told a friend of hers about the strange white girls and how they had bathed and dressed them. Naira knew the very room in which they were held, although she cautioned that two guards protected the door. Of Roxton, she knew only that he was considered very handsome, and the girls who had seen him earlier giggled as they told the others how he looked, and of the fight to which he had been condemned. She also spoke of Veronica's outburst, and how surprised the girls in the throne room had been that Cuauhtémoc had not had either white woman admonished with the strap after Marguerite had crawled in tears to the First Speaker's feet, begging for Roxton's life.

This news convinced the crew that they were right to suppose that there was no need to try bargaining with Cuauhtémoc, and that his empire deserved no more from them than the violence they had planned.

Unfortunately, they had no idea where Roxton was held, and if they killed the guards and managed to escape with the women, his fate would probably be grim. If they did not act, they might lose all three of their friends...there was no good answer, and time was running out.

Naira described tomorrow's events in detail, as she had overheard most of the planning, and it was finally decided that they would hope for Roxton to kill Xu'ac, and then discover where he would recuperate. In the meantime, they would re-enter the city and place dynamite strategically, allowing them to detonate it as a distraction when they moved to save their friends. The fact that it would destroy much of the city was a bonus now that the Tecamaya were clearly enemies.

Ned was beside himself with worry for Veronica, but the best chance to save her would be when the ball game held the attention of most in Xochilenque. That was clearly the time to move.

Naira was untied and given food and more water, and asked if she wanted to cast her lot with the others, with Sa'eera explaining that she could arrange a new life for the girl among the Zanga. She tearfully accepted, and asked many questions about that tribe and how she would fare. Told that she would be free, and be provided for by Jacoba in return for her help, she burst into tears and had to be calmed by Finn and Sa'eera.

Later, charges set, with time pencils primed to begin exploding in mid-afternoon, at the height of the ball game; they hid again in the rocks and awaited the dawn.

As the stars gave way to the roseate hues of dawn, drums began to sound from Xochilenque, deep beats pounding with the rhythm of the human pulse.

Through binoculars from the slopes above, the explorers saw a line of resigned, partially drugged captives herded up the steps of the Temple of the Sun, where the expected ritual sacrifices began as day broke. The explorers winced, hating that they were powerless to stop this savagery. What passed before their eyes was not something they would cherish remembering, but the events were burned into their minds, perhaps the worst being that the people witnessing the horrors atop the pyramid fell to eating the hands of the victims whose bodies were rolled down the steps, as heartless now as the priests whose obsidian knives had slashed open their chests moments before. The explorers and their Zanga comrades resolved to avenge the dead of this day and years past to the degree that they were allowed.

In the palace, Veronica and Marguerite heard the bass rumble of the drums and asked the guards the meaning. Told, they were revolted, and the younger woman was almost sick as she absorbed that such practices still existed.

They ate the food brought to them, knowing that they needed to be fed if they were to hope to seize whatever chance Fate might provide in an opportunity to escape. The only good news at this point was that those dying on the altars of heathen gods were prisoners who had been held for over a month. None of the captured Zanga would die that day, according to the guards. They knew none of the dead.

In time, the harem girls came to groom their hair and fit their costumes, talking brightly of the celebrations to come. Some of them would be allowed to sit with the First Speaker and see the game and the battle between Roxton and his opponent. They looked forward to the excitement that the white girls dreaded.

Veronica's headband was placed, and Marguerite's sable tresses were gilded with a golden barrette, with several vivid, shimmering feathers depending from it. Their earrings were inserted, and sandals fastened, then it was time for the guards to enter and bind them.

Veronica was first, and then she stood, hands bound at the small of her back, anchored in place by several thongs encircling her waist, watching Marguerite being tied as her own leash was placed on her neck. She noted dully that the golden cords by which they would be led were woven tightly of cotton or hemp, not metal, although this offered no greater chance of slipping them than if they had been chains. She felt more desolate than she could recall, knowing that she and her companion would soon be separated, depriving her of even the comfort of their company. Still, she held her head proudly, determined to show no fear as she was led down the hall, palace attendants already looking on the captive women en route to entertain the barbaric population of this ghastly society.

Ned, Ned, her mind screamed. Where are you when I need you? But in her heart, she knew this was unfair, and that she should be glad that he was free, and not about to be put in peril to amuse an imperious dictator as her friend's man soon would be forced to do. Oh, Marguerite! What will become of us? she wondered, as the warrior in charge of her tugged at her leash.

Before the cover of night had fully fled, the explorers in the rescue party crept once more over the tree and back into Xochilenque.

They avoided a small party of warriors making a desultory sweep along the walls of the city, glad that they had brushed out their tracks and smeared mud on the scuffs left on the tree limb.

With Naira in their hands, they once again had someone who could speak Nahuatl, for her tribe, like most in that area, had been forced to learn the Language of Heaven. On the other hand, she could speak only through Xma'Klee, so those two had to remain together. The Indian girl had been given one of Sa'eera's spare loincloths, and she was impressed with the quality of the cloth and the workmanship. It was, after all, the garment of a young queen...Finn had given her a shirt, also.

Naira led them now to a storage building overlooking the palace grounds. They breakfasted on fruit and biltong, glad for the strength provided by the dried meat. Plans were completed, with Malone and Finn assigned to save Veronica, whom they knew would be displayed at the arena. This group also encompassed 20 Zanga, many with rifles. The other group was tasked with finding and rescuing Marguerite and Roxton. Both parties would then, if at all possible, strike at the cells where their Zanga friends awaited eventual sacrifice.

As full day broke and the hours advanced, they roused at cheers from the palace courtyard, and moved to the windows, binoculars up. So it was that they saw Marguerite and Veronica led down to the gates and along the street, getting excellent views of them before the throngs of celebrating Tecamaya obscured their view.

"My gosh, Veronica is lovely," breathed Malone, astounded at the effect her nearly nude beauty had on him, accented by the minimal costume and the gold leash. He was ashamed to feel raw arousal visit his loins, and shifted his position to keep others from noticing the tightness in his trousers.

Finn saw, anyway, placed an arm on his shoulder and looked at him sympathetically. "It's all right, Ned," she whispered. "She is utterly breathtaking. And if you lead her back to us, Veronica is going to think of you as her hero in a very personal sense. Just stay cool and don't get ahead of yourself and do anything rash before it will count. She's my best friend, and we're going to get her back. Keep thinking of that, and don't panic." And she squeezed his thigh encouragingly.

He blushed, but took heart from Finn's words, and told himself that this was the day when he would become a man, much of his internal conflict defined and conquered by the absolute certainty that what he wanted most in this life was to possess Veronica and in time, to procreate new life from her womb. This gave him a focus that had thus far eluded him for all of his days, and in that instant, his future was defined as sharply as if he had seen it through the precise lenses of his Zeiss binocular. He still knew fear and uncertainty, but also a grim determination to triumph against all odds. The prize was greater by far than the fear, and Ned knew in that moment that he had passed from being a confused idealist to being a man with purpose in life. As sobering as this was, it also filled him with confidence and a deep resolve to do right by his love and his friends and his still untarnished sense of justice.

Challenger and Finn noticed something in his face, and although Malone missed it, the look they exchanged with one another led both to nod slightly, and smile. The weak link in their Treehouse chain had been replaced with one forged of cold, hard steel that would not fail in resolve or in battle.

As soon as the streets had largely cleared, the population moving along in the procession to the ball court, the explorers divided, the group with Finn and Malone needing additional time to get into place before they struck.

As she turned to leave, Finn embraced Challenger, kissed him warmly, and handed him a folded note. "Read that if I don't see you again, Genius," she ordered. She left before he could compose a suitable answer, and he felt devastated and alone, although he was with what was actually the larger war party.

Sa'eera had seen Finn pass him the note, and she knew about writing, Finn having even begun teaching her the alphabet and helping her to form simple sentences. Sa'eera was unhappy that she had not gone with Finn's group, but had explained that her place was with Xma'Klee and the goal of rescuing the Zanga held in the sacrificial cells.

"Mighty Jacoba would wish me with the Paramount Shaman and doing what I can to ensure that our warriors walk freely again," she had explained, and all accepted that. It was clearly her duty to see to her people first. Now, she shyly asked George if all was well, and what Finn's note said.

Curbing his initial instinct to tell her that his mail from his lover was none of her business, Challenger decided that she had a valid interest, as Finn was rapidly becoming Sa'eera's best friend of either race. The girls were close, with the young queen looking upon Finn much as Finn saw Veronica, a virtual older sister. Although the group teased Finn and "Vee" about their closeness, it was fully accepted that the relationship was real, and cherished by both women. Neither had anyone whom they loved more, save perhaps their men, and this was why Challenger had stifled his protest about Finn going with Malone.

Now, he unfolded the note, ignoring the inscription, "To Be Opened In Event of My Death." For all he knew, if he didn't read it now, his own death might preclude him from ever knowing what she had written...

"Dear Genius," he read, "This is all I have time to write as our moment of maximum danger approaches, and there are things that I have to tell you, lest Fate decree that I die this day.

"George, please know that I love you with all my heart and all my soul. We met when I robbed you, and you accepted me and stood up for me with your friends, when I had no rightful expectation of anything but anger from you, or from Marguerite.

"You paid attention to me and treated me well when I needed that more than at any other time since the loss of my parents and my civilisation. You took me into your lab, your heart, your soul. You listened to me as an equal in many cases, when I was basically just an illiterate broad who had nothing to offer but a body that had already been visited by other men, and I know that in your time, this alone would have caused many guys to see me as "loose", even a whore. You never mentioned my lack of virginity; I absorbed what I know of current attitudes about that from the others, especially Ned, bless his innocent heart.

"You taught me to read. Although I was a smart-alec about it at first in public, I sneaked off and read the dictionary and anything else I could until I was fit to read aloud and not embarrass either of us. I was so proud when you praised how far I had come in a few months, and then you asked me into your sacrosanct laboratory, where even your older friends trespassed with apprehension. And you didn't condescend to me: I was always made to feel useful, valuable.

"You gave me moral guidance that I probably needed, considering that I came from desperate times, when expedience was sometimes the only morality. Taking care of ourselves and our friends, when we had any, was all the values that I knew. I told you things about myself that no human ears but your own have ever heard, and you never betrayed my secrets and my trust. You even decided to choose me over Jessie, a decision that I know wracks your conscience...and my own, now that you have given me one. You did a better job of that than you probably know.

"In time, I bonded with our other friends, especially darling Vee, whose life I hope I can save today in return for the hospitality and the love that she has shown me, an intruder in her home. But it is you who have been father, teacher, mentor, protector, and lover to me, and whom I adore beyond what words (especially those that I have so far learned) can express. George, George, my soul cries out to you! I HATE leaving you today, even to rescue Veronica, but it is a duty that I must not fail. I know that you will forgive me, and understand. You can be a vain man, sometimes, but you are a fair man, too, and I know that you also care much for Vee, who is like a daughter to you.

"Lover, promise that you will remember me, if I fall. If I do, my dying thoughts will be of you, even over Veronica, whom I love as if she was my natural sister.

And if the Sun rises tomorrow without me at your side, know that I won our ongoing argument, and that it is YOU on whom the Sun rises and sets. (You know how women hate to lose an argument, hah!)

"If I must leave you, pray for my soul, and that we will be together again in Heaven, in which you reaffirmed my dubious belief, the remnant of a childhood that morphed into an adult life that seemed devoid of God or of His mercy, far too often. Your quiet, sure faith and your wise counsel have probably restored my immortal soul to hope of salvation through our Lord, whom I thank nightly for meeting you and for being allowed to love you. (And from whom I beg forgiveness for our adultery, from which I cannot desist. I love you too much to be noble, in that aspect of life.)

"Go now and save our companions, and wish me luck at the same. I only hope that you will not have occasion to read this. If you do, and I survive, then I will have told you things that I should have imparted long since. I was too shy to say what was in me, beyond a certain point. But whenever I have said that I love you, it was never a casual expression, but instead, the true statement of my feelings. I know I'm much younger than you, but I'm plenty old enough to know my mind and my heart. You improved the first, and you own the second. Please look out for Vee. and for Sa'eera, as best you can. I love them, too, and all of our Treehouse friends. Tell them that, okay?"

"Love,

Nicole Elizabeth Finnegan (Challenger, someday?)

Your Finn"

Challenger read the note three times, and Sa'eera saw the tears in his eyes, and held his hand as he told her the gist of the letter, being careful to let her know what Finn had said of her.

Then, they settled down to wait until word of some sort came from the arena.

"Damn," Challenger thought, "That poor girl didn't even give herself credit for the transfusion that saved my life. (See the TV episode, "The Elixir.") If only she knew what she has given to me in return for whatever I have offered her..."

In the sacred ball park, Cuauhtémoc sat with his wife, two daughters, and his son, the heir to his throne.

His huge headdress was resplendent with gold and his finest feathers, as were those of his chief counselors and advisors. His bodyguards surrounded them, and the eyes of his people, forbidden to gaze directly upon his face, nevertheless crept across this magnificent entourage, heartened by the display of finery and regal composure. They looked forward to a fine fight, and an interesting day.

The emperor looked now to the left, at the doorway through which the two white prisoners were passing, and he rejoiced at their bound beauty. He whispered to an aide that it was his pleasure that they be allowed to sit near him before Veronica was escorted to her cage. He also wanted Marguerite within reach, in case she could not contain herself, should Lord Roxton perish.

Cuauhtémoc had both girls brought to him, and had them stand on the step below his throne, the travelling one, used for occasions such as this. Veronica on his left, Marguerite to his right, he took each girl's hair in his hands, and shook their heads, while proclaiming that these invaders were being exhibited for the viewing pleasure of his people, after which the blonde would be offered to the captain of the victorious ball team. The other would serve him in his harem, after being forced to watch her man fight in the arena against a personal enemy.

The crowd loved this, and roared its approval. Many an eye was on the Treehouse women, the Tecamaya men studying them from a speculative male angle, the women as possible rivals and to see how they looked and moved. All agreed that they were a glamorous addition to the day's entertainment.

The First Speaker ordered both girls to sit on the colorful cotton mats provided, with a man behind each to control her, should she become troublesome. He spoke quietly to Marguerite, telling her that if she behaved well and Roxton won, he would allow her to see him for a time after the fight. She thanked him humbly, desperate to talk again to her love, and to be allowed to treat any wounds he might receive.

Cuauhtémoc nodded to his vizier, who signaled the master of ceremonies to begin. A conch horn and two Triceratops horns blew blasts to accompany the thunder of fifty great drums and the warbling notes of many flutes, and Roxton and Xu'ac were led into the arena, the same ball court where the two teams would soon compete for their lives and for the honor of winning this significant event in their culture. The spectators cheered, and bets were placed on the outcome of this fight that would claim the life of one man or the other.

Marguerite leaned forward to see Roxton better, and she saw him scanning the audience, hoping to see her. When he did, their eyes locked, and he raised a hand to her and defiantly blew her a kiss. Her heart raced, and her fingers clenched nervously as she mentally urged him to victory.

Cuauhtémoc saw where Roxton was looking, and leaned over and casually ran his right hand over Marguerite's breasts and along her neck and face. She gasped, and sat straight, not daring to offend this savage ruler who held her fate in his hands. Ignoring Roxton, the emperor toyed with her hair, caressing it and examining the feathers in her barrette, pulling lightly at her earrings. This was obviously done to inflame Roxton, and it succeeded, although he held his tongue. But the emperor didn't miss the intense look the Englishman gave him, and knew that if the opportunity arose, Roxton would come for him in an instant.

Angered by the defiance, Cuauhtémoc lifted Marguerite, and sat her on his lap, continuing to caress her while glaring forcefully at her man. She knew what was happening, and felt like a pawn in this silly male pride game. Unseen by Cuauhtémoc, she pursed her lips in a kiss that thrilled Roxton.

Flutes trilled again, and Xu'ac was brought in from the door at the other end of the arena. He strutted, opening his raised arms, courting the mob. Howls of approval and amusement greeted his bravado, and even Cuauhtémoc laughed. He sensed that this was an evil man, but he had style. The emperor wondered if he would make a better continuing zoo display than the dignified, sullen Roxton.

A warrior approached each of the condemned fighters, carrying the particular macquahuitl that each had selected after being allowed to handle several and get the feel of them. Before dropping the weapons at the men's' feet, the warriors turned slowly, displaying the grim instruments to the masses above. Chants, cheers, and derisive cries heralded the observers' excitement.

When the man carrying his macquahuitl tossed it at his feet and left, Roxton picked it up and hefted it, getting the feel of it, testing the balance and seeking the firmest grip on it. He noticed Xu'ac doing the same. The time for playing to the crowd was past. The next few minutes would be deadly serious business, and showmanship was the last thing on each combatant's mind at this point.

Marguerite saw Veronica look up at her and wink, the only gesture of support she could manage. Marguerite smiled back, and sat straight, crossing the fingers of her right hand behind her in forlorn hope that it might somehow bring her mate luck. She put on a proud, serene face, not letting Cuauhtémoc see her fear.

Veronica looked carefully at each man, thrilling at the near nudity. As in the throne room, she was excited at the size and tone of John's muscles. He wasn't built like a weight lifter, more like a supple athlete, but the strength and raw maleness was there, and she breathed in deeply at the sight of it. In fact, she marveled that Marguerite, for all her vanity and stubbornness, had resisted this man for as long as she had before surrendering her body and her heart to him! Ned was nicely muscled, as she now knew full well, but John had a certain masculine hardness and tone that Ned lacked. Some of this was attitude and the way that he moved, but there was also some indefinable quality there that reached out to her, and she felt an involuntary tingle in her tummy, and realized that to her horror, she was growing excited as she physically reacted to Roxton and the occasion. She wondered whether Marguerite was doing the same, and hoped that Cuauhtémoc wouldn't sense their lust and laugh at their hormones betraying what was left of their dignity.

Roxton wore a thin sharkskin belt with a jaguar hide loincloth barely wide enough to conceal his privates, and Marguerite heard Tecamaya women giggling and commenting on what they knew must lie within. Some turned and gazed speculatively at her, and she knew that they were whispering about how this white woman must have trouble standing when her man looked on her with desire. She felt herself flush, half in shame at this talk, half because the women were right: when Roxton turned to her with a certain look in his eyes and a cocky swagger, it was all she could do to pretend to be cool and appear to accept his advances with her pride intact. Sometimes, she failed, and he laughed at her as he lifted her and took her to their room or to the privacy of some secluded spot in the jungle, wherever they happened to be when he wanted her and circumstances allowed. Oh, darling John, she thought, just get us out of this and all you'll have to do is to crook a finger at me and I'll run to you like a schoolgirl unable to help herself! I no longer pretend even to myself that I'm nonchalant when you want me, and I have to admit that I know exactly what Finn and her "sister" Vee are thinking when they notice, and exchange that knowing grin that they think I can't see!

I used to be so independent, and now, most of my whole life turns on what this wonderful man thinks of me, and on how I can please him, offering absolutely whatever he wants. She blushed furiously, recalling some of the things that he wanted...

Xu'ac was similarly attired, but his snakeskin belt supported a length of puma hide, tawny in contrast to his enemy's spotted covering. He too, was a large, powerful man, and Roxton was aware that his foe might be stronger and wirier than he was. Xu'ac had sneeringly boasted that he was familiar with this lethal weapon, and would fillet the white man with it when his chance came! This was no easy match, and luck might determine the outcome.

The mob called encouragement to its favorites, and it was hard to know which man had more supporters. But the time for battle was at hand, and Roxton knew that his future would be determined in the next few minutes. He grasped his weapon, noting the shape. Essentially a flattened baseball bat, it had narrow grooves on the top and bottom surfaces, into which the native armorers had fitted blades of obsidian, volcanic glass. Ranging in hue from purple to blue-black, with some pieces almost transparent, the blades were razor sharp. The sword-clubs were decorated with carving and painted scenes of Tecamaya deities and demons. He recognized stylized images of the Feathered Serpent god and of Rattlesnake and Jaguar. The workmanship was excellent, and he decided to try to take one or more of these instruments of death with him as a trophy when he left. Roxton was determined to escape, so he entertained such thoughts, even as Xu'ac walked sinuously toward him, feinting with his macquahuitl, hatred and defiance on his chiseled features.

Reminding himself that, unlike his own people's swords, the macquahuitl had no point and had to be used to slash only, or to strike an enemy with the flat of the wooden club, he took a deep breath and lunged toward Xu'ac

The nimble Indian sidestepped and aimed a devastating slash at Roxton, which nearly connected. Had it landed, his head would have been torn off. He recalled the accounts of this weapon in Bernal Diaz del Castillo's volume, "The Conquest of Mexico", and knew that the macquahuitl, especially in the longer, two-handed version, could behead a horse, let alone a man! A solid blow would hack off an arm.

Aiming a swift stroke at Xu'ac's feet, Roxton was disappointed as his opponent jumped over it. Whatever else he might be, Xu'ac was a worthy enemy, very strong and agile. This would be a close fought contest, and Roxton, for all his earlier bravado, intended partly to encourage Marguerite, was by no means sure that he could win.

Xu'ac launched a vicious backhand blow that struck Roxton on the left side of his chest. He dodged enough that the strike was glancing, but he was cut to the ribs, and he knew that the first man to bleed in a fight of this sort was often the one who would lose.

Steeling himself against the pain, he threw up his weapon just in time to block another stroke aimed at his shoulder. The two maquahuitls collided with a savage "CrRAACK!" and one of Roxton's blades was shattered by the impact! He felt the jolt all along his arm, rather like having struck a cricket ball with a split bat, or receiving a jolt from a live electrical cord. AAargh! His mind screamed, and he just prevented giving voice to his pain.

The two men turned and feinted again, and Xu'ac said something that the Englishman didn't understand, but which was clearly a taunt. The renegade Zanga pointed to where Marguerite sat in the stands and made an obscene gesture, intended to inflame Roxton and make him careless. Cuauhtémoc had promised that if he fought well, Xu'ac would not taste Marguerite's charms, but who could say what the emperor considered a good enough performance from Roxton to avoid this humiliation after death? Unless the Englishman won, how would he know who next took carnal pleasure from the woman he considered his?

This thought drove him harder, and he lunged at Xu'ac with the blunt end of his weapon. Startled by a point- first thrust although the end was blunt, Xu'ac was taken off guard and fumbled his own counterstroke.

Roxton immediately changed the direction of his blow, turning so that he was able to drag the edges of his blades along Xu'ac's waist just above the hip joint. Blood spurted, and the crowd screamed approval.

"Go, John!," screamed Marguerite's voice, "Sandhurst up!" She knew, of course, that he was a graduate of the Royal Military Academy...but this was no cricket or rugby match, and he was injured. How long could he last? Which man would lose more blood from these initial wounds? Loss of that vital fluid alone might defeat him.

Xu'ac howled, and as Roxton recoiled from the unexpected sound, pressed forward and slashed at Roxton's right leg. He jerked back, but the front blade nicked him, opening the skin like a razor attacking newsprint paper. Fortunately, the wound wasn't deep, but any slice was serious, and the psychological effect was frightening.

Roxton found the sword-club awkward to manipulate and longed for his own Wilkinson infantry sword, left back at Avebury with other mementos of the Great War.

He would have to make do with what he had, and Xu'ac certainly knew this weapon better than he did!

He felt dizzy now, the loss of blood and the impact of his enemy's slash on his ribs taking its toll. He knew that if he didn't end this soon, he would need a transfusion, and would be unable to help his friends escape, if he could even stumble along with them on his own. If Finn, their only known donor whose blood was a universal type, O-Negative, donated to him, she would also be weakened. And he had no idea where Finn, Ned, and George were. Perhaps they had left, hoping to persuade Jacoba to send reinforcements. If so, grim things awaited him and the Treehouse girls held captive...

Backing rapidly now from Xu'ac, Roxton stepped on a flake of the sharp glass that had been struck off his macquahuitl and his foot gave way. He fell, with Xu'ac standing over him, weapon raised for a quick kill. He heard the roar of the mob, the two white girls' howls of despair barely audible over the combined Tecamaya voices lusting for a kill. His ears felt as if he was hearing the sound of the sea in a shell, and he knew that he was in danger of losing consciousness. Was this, then, how the XVIII Earl of Avebury would die, split asunder by a primitive weapon in the hands of a bloodthirsty savage, after surviving the horrors of the worst "civilized" war of all time, and numerous encounters with dangerous beasts? NO, his soul commanded! DO something, you daft man! Marguerite and Veronica are depending on you!

He rolled quickly to the right, and Xu'ac's blades struck dirt just behind him, Reversing the roll, Roxton swung up as hard as he could, and his macquahuitl caught Xu'ac in the small of the back. The Indian's sword-club flew from his grasp, and his lips contorted with more pain than Roxton had thought was in him. A gasp came from the Zanga, and his legs went out from under him. He fell, scrabbling at the dirt, one leg jerking furiously, the other apparently severed from its nerves.

The audience erupted in calls for Xu'ac's death, and Roxton braced himself on his own macquahuitl, and forced his stunned body to stand. He looked to Cuauhtémoc, to see if the First Speaker would grant Xu'ac mercy. He felt the blood still pumping from his slashed ribs.

With all the detached coldness of a Roman emperor, Cuauhtémoc slashed a finger across his throat. In ancient Rome, a downturned thumb had the same meaning, but Cuauhtémoc's version of the sign was perhaps more brutal, and equally final.

Roxton considered throwing his macquahuitl at the emperor, but he hadn't the strength or the accuracy, and it might have hit one of his loved ones. He swore, unable to strike out. Yet, he was a gentleman for all the stress of the arena, and he was inclined to spare Xu'ac, although he realized that the man might just be slain by the Tecamaya. In any event, he would probably never walk again.

Roxton's mind was made up by the agonized Zanga warrior clutching his weapon and beginning a stroke at Roxton's ankles. Game to the last, Xu'ac, thought Roxton. He leaped back, avoiding the blow, and sweeping his own macquahuitl with force at Xu'ac's exposed neck.

The Indian received the full force of the blow, and his head seemed to literally fly off his shoulders as the body lurched convulsively in a last lunge before the soul departed to whichever demons awaited it in the next world. Blood gushed forth, staining the ground and moving the body for a few seconds with the force of its departure from the cleaved arteries.

The assembly rose to its feet, slapping hands against chests in applause, feet stamping in added clamor. Armed warriors guarding the ceremony thumped their spears and macquahuitls on their shields. The din was horrible. Above it, Roxton barely heard Veronica's shrill wail. He looked, and she was bent at the waist, sobbing, unable to bring her bound hands from behind her to cover her eyes.

Marguerite? MARGUERITE! He looked frantically for her as attendants approached the two men in the arena, one dead, one bleeding and gasping for breath.

He finally saw her, still clasped in Cuauhtémoc's arms, the emperor supporting her limp body. She had fainted.

As attendants including a medicine man approached, Roxton saw the First Speaker rouse Marguerite. An official brought water to her as Roxton himself was given some, and he saw Veronica raised upright and spoken to sharply by a senior warrior assigned to guard her.

Veronica's and Marguerite's faces were washed, and the blonde girl was led off to be caged.

As the worst of the tumult subsided, Cuauhtémoc rose, signaling for silence. When the din subsided, he spoke loudly, his voice carrying easily to Roxton.

"Hear me, O, Tecamaya! And hear me, foreign invaders. The girl with golden hair is being taken to the arena, where a cage built for her will be rolled out. She will be displayed for your curiosity and viewing pleasure. Look at her all you please for the next hour or so, after which she will be wheeled out of sight, so as to not distract from the Sacred Ball Game, which will begin on schedule.

"In the meantime, feast on whatever food you have brought or purchase from the vendors in the crowd or in the food booths near the entrance to this stadium. You may touch the girl with golden hair, but do not mark or harm her. She will be offered to the captain of the winning ball team, or he may choose for himself any woman in this city who is not otherwise the property or wife of another man. If the winning captain chooses another woman, this Veronica girl will be added to my harem. However, for your knowledge and entertainment, she will often be displayed in our menagerie, in a cage next to this man Roxton, who has just won the fight that you have witnessed. Sometimes, they will be displayed naked, that you may see them fully. Other times, they will be dressed as they were when captured, that you may see their strange attire, after I have finished examining it.

"Roxton's former woman Marguerite, whom I hold beside me, will be allowed to join him now and for the next hour or so, as his wounds are dressed. He fought well, and I allow this gracious gesture that his spirit may be restored as his wounds are sewn and treated. The white female may also manage to compose herself if she has some time with this fellow. She fainted from fright, for she loves him. However, she has not yet been taken by me that, she may have a higher standard of master to compare to him." He grinned, and the crowd laughed raucously at the jest.

"Enjoy your meals and the time to view the girl with golden hair. I promise you a fine ball game. The winning team will be received in our palace for dinner tonight, and its captain will there tell us which female he wishes as his prize. There will, of course, be many other traditional prizes for the winners. Those on the losing team, as is customary, will be sacrificed to Hummingbird and Smoking Mirror as tomorrow's sun rises, that the gods be honored with the hearts of such gallant players and fine warriors.

"I have spoken. Let these things I have said be now accomplished." And he handed Marguerite to a war captain and whispered his instructions concerning her to him. Then, he went with his entourage to the royal enclosure above the stadium, where he would dine, sharing his meal with family and senior officials.

Roxton saw a sturdy cage with wooden bars painted in several gay colors rolled in beside him, and Veronica was led in on her golden leash. She was allowed to call out encouragement to him, and he walked over a few paces and hugged her before she was hobbled with golden thongs and locked in the domed cage.

"Veronica, I swear to you that I will come for you as soon as I am able," he told her, before being pushed back and attended to again by the medicine man, who was trying to stop blood oozing from his leg wound. He had already roughly sewn the gash in Roxton's ribs, using a needle made of a large cactus thorn, and an aide had been applying cotton dressing when Roxton had walked to Veronica

Now, Marguerite was led to him and he held her, she unable to grasp him in return, for her hands were still bound behind her and to her waist. She was crying, and he kissed away her tears and nibbled at her lips, while murmuring endearments and encouragement.

The crowd noticed, and stirred, some admiring this meeting; others less happy that the emperor had permitted the Englishman access to their ruler's new harem property.

The medicine man said something to Marguerite, rather forcefully, and she translated for Roxton.

"This man says for you to lie on the stretcher, John, and they will carry you to be treated further. Your wounds must be washed, and the dirt on you has to go. More stitches are needed. He says he will put honey and spices on the wounds to prevent infection, and that I can come, and be with you for awhile before I am taken again to my cell or to the harem. Cuauhtémoc was kind enough to order that, to my astonishment. We can have some time to talk, but lie down now. You look pale.

"Oh, John, John! I passed out when Xu'ac lifted his weapon above you. I think I would die if he had killed you. Cuauhtémoc may own my body for now, but you, my dearest love, own my heart and my soul, for all time. Never forget that I am yours, whatever we must face in the days ahead!"

Roxton squeezed her again, as a warrior prodded him with the butt of a spear. He threatened to have Marguerite whipped if Roxton did not release her and get on the stretcher. So, although it took all his strength to disengage from her, he complied and laid down, helped by another warrior, lest he fall, for he was dizzy.

The stretcher was then lifted by four burly Tecamaya, and the procession set off to the palace, Marguerite led on her leash at the foot of the stretcher, ten warriors escorting it.

As they left the arena, the Britons noticed that Xu'ac's body was being gathered up, and a man told Marguerite to tell Roxton that his dead enemy would soon be food for the carnivores in the zoo. The place where they had fought was being swept, and fresh dirt thrown over the blood, lest it impair the coming athletic contest.

Roxton smiled blissfully at Marguerite, telling her how beautiful she looked in her exotic near nudity, and she blushed and told him how grateful she was that he was alive to see her, although she'd prefer to be dressed differently.

As they left the arena, he looked up at the stone loop through which the teams would soon seek to propel a rubber ball, without using their hands. He wished he could see that famous contest, barbarous though it was...and then, he drifted off to sleep as they passed out the back entrance to the ball court. The last thing he recollected later was seeing Marguerite walking at his feet, her eyes glowing with love and relief. He vaguely registered the sound of Veronica's voice profanely telling some admirer to keep his hands to himself, and then he slept.

From the shadows behind a second story window in a nearby building, Nicole Finnegan and Ned Malone watched as Roxton and Marguerite were escorted from the arena. They breathed more fully now, for they had been deeply concerned as they heard the varying cheers and applause of the crowd, not knowing what each chorus of howls signified. Waiting without knowing had been torment.

Now, they saw that their friends were alive, and that Roxton was again with Marguerite. Finn swore, longing fervently for a set of two-way radios with which she could communicate with Challenger's group. But that was just a wishful item from her future /past that did not yet exist in compact enough form for their need here and now. She explained what she meant to Malone, who gazed at her thoughtfully, not always sure when she was telling the truth about things she had known, and when she was pulling his leg or maybe being too fanciful. It didn't help that she often took advantage of Ned's relative naivety with her subtle, sometimes sarcastic, humor. He had learned to think carefully before taking the young blonde at face value, and had come to realize that she was in fact exceptionally intelligent, and had a wicked wit, often on the dry side. Ned had never met anyone quite like her, and was a bit leery of her...

Through their Zeiss lenses, they noted the direction of the procession with their friends, and concluded that they were headed for the palace or nearby. Ned wished that he could send a man to warn Challenger, but they had no one who could speak English, and neither he nor Finn knew more than a few sentences in Zanga!

They were almost beside themselves with worry, having only the account of the Wa'reera girl that Veronica would be displayed in the arena, then moved out of the way before the ball game commenced.

Finally, a rising din from the arena made it clear that something was happening, and they saw both teams of players stride into the stadium. The crescendo rose, as the fans gave full voice to their teams. The sounds eventually settled down, except for roars as one team or another did something exciting. Obviously, the match was now underway, and whatever fate was decreed for Veronica was in place.

They crept out in two groups of two each, headed for the arena, sticking to what sparse cover or houses would shield them. The main body of their group stayed in the building they were in, waiting to rush forward if they heard shots.

One man walked from a house as they passed, and would have given alarm but a Zanga warrior knocked him down and smashed his head with the butt of a Mauser. Another Zanga bayoneted him, for Avery Burton had sold the rifles to Xu'ac with those implements, and the Zanga had quickly grasped the concept of a fixed bayonet. They were raised as spearmen, and the analogy appealed to them.

Slipping past windows, they finally saw a room at the rear of the stadium. It was open at the back, but across the room, which was some 30 feet deep, small windows allowed those in the room to see what took place on the ball court beyond. Veronica's cage had been rolled in here, and three men were with her, their spears and macquahuitls set aside as two watched the game. The third reached through the bars of her cage, stroking Veronica intimately, the man grinning lasciviously as he had his way with the white beauty, whom he grasped by her hair.

The man molesting her saw Finn as she saw him, and registered the contents of the room. Finn swung up her small crossbow, carried to augment her guns, and fired a quarrel tipped with poison into the Tecamaya man, hitting him just above the heart.

He gasped and staggered back, trying to call out a warning, but his companions were staring at the ball court, pounding their chests and hooting as their team scored.

Veronica had her back to Finn, but saw the Tecamaya stumble and recognized the quarrel in his chest. She jerked her head around, looking incredulously at her "little sister" frantically reloading her bow.

"Oh, Hell, "she thought. "Ned is here, too, seeing me trussed like a chicken ready for broiling and wearing less than a girl in a sailor's dream!" But her heart lurched in joy, and she felt like singing aloud. Rescue! Finally! And her friends were free and armed!

As the man whom Finn had shot fell, the noise he made attracted the attention of one at the windows. He turned, just in time to receive a second bolt from Finn's nasty little crossbow.

The other guard turned, too, and Ned Malone slammed into him as fast as he could run, Bowie knife out and thrusting. They struggled briefly, for Ned had only a general idea of where to stab, and the man was strong, succumbing only after he'd been struck several times with the eight-inch blade. A Zanga man then stepped past the reporter and slammed the butt of his rifle into the fallen Tecamaya's head, and it was over.

Finn had placed a third bolt into her bow as they fought, ready for any outcome, not really trusting Ned to kill cleanly.

Now, she set the bow down and drew the Swiss Army knife from the black leather pouch on her gun belt and began cutting the ties that held shut the door to Veronica's cage. She chose the saw blade for the ropes, which parted quickly. (NOTE: the little saw on her Victorinox Camper knife is indeed surprisingly quite effective for its size. The author has found it very useful on small branches, rope, and similar items best not cut with a normal knife blade.)

Finn swung open the door, and Ned helped the hobbled Veronica out and knelt to slash the golden ropes on her ankles.

"Oh, my God! I am SO glad to see you two!" gushed the bound beauty. "Where are the others? And, have you found my clothes?"

"No clothes yet," admitted Ned. "But we captured a slave girl from another tribe and she says that all the things the Tecamaya took from you three are in a treasure room in the palace. We'll go there next. And, I think that's where John and Marguerite were just taken...to the palace."

"Great," Veronica replied. "Oh, Ned! You were so brave! I'm almost too embarrassed to talk, though. Look at me! I'm tied up like this, wearing nothing but a damned little ocelot gee-string and some jewelry! I can't wait to get this thing off and throw it in the trash!"

"Hey, wait just a minute!" Ned interjected." I'm not about to free your hands unless you promise to keep that outfit and wear it for me again when we get back to the Treehouse. You look really wonderful in it. Don't worry," he smirked. "It's safe to wear it where I can see you. Challenger swears that his birth control pills are infallible." Then, realizing what he'd said, he blushed.

Finn snickered. "Yeah, Vee," she added, "Ned is right, for once. You do look really 'hot' in that thing, what there is of it. I won't cut you loose, either, unless you promise to help me make a loincloth like that for myself. George will love it! Don't worry: we can just put those on when we're alone except for the guys, in our rooms, if anyone else is home." She brandished her pocketknife. "What is it, 'Sis"? Want to stay tied up, or swear that you'll wear that for Ned, and make me one, too?"

She looked far too amused for their concerns at the moment, thought the other blonde. "All right! I'll dress like a jungle slut for Ned, and make you a slut costume, too, Finn! I promise. Now, will one of you funny, funny, people PLEASE cut my hands free? Someone else could come in here at any moment! I can't believe you two!"

Finn grinned at Ned. "Okay, Malone, she said 'yes'. You owe me, Pal." And she giggled, earning a dark look from Veronica.

Ned rolled his eyes. Finn was sometimes a little 'over the top' for him, although he had come to realize that she used droll humor to deal with fear and stress at such times as this. On the other hand, he reflected, she had gotten Veronica to promise to wear the minimal, spotted, garment for him. Ned smiled involuntarily at that thought. Maybe Finn had her uses, after all...

He cut Veronica's waist bonds as Finn, with her smaller pen blade, delicately sliced the thongs from her friend's wrists.

As soon as she was free, Veronica hugged both of her companions, almost sobbing with relief. "Did you see what they made poor Roxton do?" she demanded. "He had to fight Xu'ac in the arena, with those things." She pointed to a fallen macquahuitl. "Marguerite was made to watch. She fainted! I felt so sorry for her! And for John." And she quickly told what she'd seen in the stadium as they slipped out the door, looking first for anyone passing in the street. As she left, Veronica swept up a spear. Helpless no more, she exulted!

Ned led the way back behind the shielding buildings, stopping at the two-story one they'd been in to collect the hidden Zanga and give Veronica water from his canteen.

"Oh, hell, I have to 'go'", muttered the just-freed Treehouse girl.

"We all have to go. We need to get back to Challenger and save the others," Ned responded. "We have dynamite charges set to start exploding within the hour."

Veronica made a face at him, and Finn drily explained that Vee. meant that she had to pee. "The ladies' loo is in the next room," she told her friend. "At least, that's where I went. We waited forever to get to you. Use that big flower pot in there."

When Veronica returned, they cautiously left, hoping that no one had discovered that she was missing, or had found the first dead man, whose body they'd dragged back into his house.

As they paused briefly behind a cluster of banana trees, Veronica touched Ned lightly on the shoulder. When he looked inquiringly at her, she whispered, "Were you and Little Miss Finny Finn just messing with my mind back there, or do you really like the way that I look in this ridiculous outfit?"

"We were teasing you," he admitted, "but you do look great in that, Veronica. I really do want you to keep it and wear it sometimes when we're alone in the Treehouse. Please? It would mean a lot to me. Nicole is right: you are just plain, smoldering 'hot' in that!"

She flushed, embarrassed, but flattered that he truly wanted to see her this way. For someone who was raised in the way she was, and who wore so little on a daily basis, Veronica was rather modest in front of most others. She had never really seen Marguerite nude, until the Tecamaya had stripped them, although she and Finn had swum and bathed together that way on occasion. Now, the idea that Ned wanted to see her so dressed made her glow inside, for some reason, and she leaned into him and kissed him. She suddenly felt very feminine and wonderful for it.

"Thank you, Ned Malone, for saving me today. You were a real hero. If you insist on making me wear this for you, I'll do it. Just keep it between us, when we're alone. And, wait until you see what they made Marguerite wear: just some beads and pretty feathers! John probably feels better, already, just from gawking at her dressed that way. Maybe it'll help him forget his pain. He was cut pretty badly."

Finn overheard, and decided to take a good look at her other friend when they found her. Sounded as if she might want a costume like M.'s, too! Poor George! He was definitely going to get distracted from his lab work some day soon, after they got home. She smiled, thinking of the look he'd get on his face when she sauntered past him in one of those Tecamaya bimbo outfits. This trip was turning out to have some worthwhile aspects, after all. Then, she missed Challenger so sharply that she almost wished she hadn't thought of him just then. He's probably read that sappy note I left him, she realized, and hoped that she hadn't made a fool of herself, telling him just how much he meant to her. I wonder if Marguerite felt this vulnerable the first time she admitted to John what he was to her, she wondered. Someday, if we live through this mess, I may ask her. Very carefully, when

we're alone and she's in a sentimental mood...

An idea struck Malone, and he was amazed that he hadn't thought of it sooner. Probably, he had just been under too much stress.

"Veronica, would you like to borrow my shirt? I apologize for not thinking of it already. I guess I'm just a big dummy."

"Don't believe him, Vee," teased Finn. "I've seen where his eyes have been since we found you. He keeps mumbling, 'NICE PAIR', when he thinks I'm not listening." She stuck out her tongue at Ned and winked at Veronica.

"Finn..." Veronica said, trying not to laugh, but also becoming a bit put out at her best friend's impishness, "If you don't 'cool it', to use one of your expressions, I am going to help Ned spank you as soon as we have the time. I'd get Challenger to paddle you, but you'd probably just enjoy that!"

"Why not spank me yourself, and let Ned watch?" Finn retorted. "Girl on girl. Ned would like that, I bet. Seriously, am I getting too carried away here? I love both you guys, and if I'm really getting to you, just tell me. The last thing I want is to hurt either of you or get you mad at me. I'm just a motor mouth when I'm scared.

And, I'll tell you: today, I'm about scared out of my wits."

"You're forgiven," Veronica said, reaching out and playfully pulling Finn's hair. "Just calm down. We're going to get out of this fine. I can feel it. When we get the rest of our friends together, nothing can stop us."

"Ahem." Ned cleared his throat. "Uh, Veronica, about my shirt..."

She hugged him and said that she would feel much better with some clothes on, and hastily donned the garment as he passed it to her, putting his vest back on.

Ned thought she looked nearly as sexy with his shirt on as before, but decided not to tell her that, at least not just yet. Later, he might also admit that Finn's barb about him staring at her breasts was essentially true. She did have a 'nice pair'. What the heck, he thought. No man alive could fail to notice Veronica's charms, and he resolved even more to make them, and all that was within her, his. I feel so foolish for going off to 'find myself', he reflected, when at least half of me stayed back in that Treehouse with Veronica...

A Zanga lookout signaled that the way was clear now, and the party dashed along to the next good cover, gradually leapfrogging in this way, until they stood near the rear entrances to Cuauhtémoc's palace.

A Zanga scout emerged from some bushes, and led them to their companions, still hiding in a storehouse.

Everyone exchanged greetings, all being delighted that Veronica was safe, and that they had recovered her with no casualties of their own.

Sa'eera hugged Finn and told her that they had been worried half sick, and was reminded that that had been a two-way street.

Challenger took Finn aside briefly, as Xma'Klee briefed the reunited warriors on their plan to save Roxton and Marguerite and take as much treasure as they could.

George and Finn stood facing one another in a corner of the room, each wondering who would speak first.

He did: ''Darling, I cannot tell you how grateful I am to see you safe and here again. There is so much that I must say to you when we have an opportunity. "

She looked down, playing nervously with her hands. "You read it, didn't you? That sappy note? Be honest: how big a fool did I make of myself?"

Challenger was astonished. He hastened to assure her that the note was neither "sappy" nor foolish, and that he intended to keep it with him, forever.

She registered this, wondering whether he was being kind. The effervescence that normally flowed from her as if from an inexhaustible well seemed to have encountered an artesian obstruction, and she was uncharacteristically silent, subdued more by embarrassment before George Challenger than she had ever been in the face of an enemy. Finally, she told him of her fears that her confession of love had diminished her in his eyes.

He was amazed, and quickly informed Finn that, if anything, her written words had left him more in tune with her than ever, and so in harmony with the "them" of the two that perhaps they should stop arguing over which of them the Sun rose and set on. That solar event, he maintained, was so significant that it must surely rely on them being made so wonderful by their combined love that it inspired this celestial concept.

The Sun's recognition of their love, in all of its aspects, made them the pinnacle and repository of all that was finest in the human condition, he maintained, the concept of love being fulfilled in all of its potential splendor, its radiance lighting their lives and all of those others who, if learning of them, would surely wish to achieve in their own loves the perfection manifested in the Challenger-Finnegan coupling.

"Nicole, I have felt many things in my years," he confessed, "but above all else is the power with which I feel you".

"Yeah, Genius, you DO 'feel me'," Finn quipped. "In all of the right places, with fingers that know just when and where to touch. And, normally, that's about what you'd expect flippant little me to say. A ribald witticism, what you call a 'Finnism.' But, George, you also touch me with your mind and your heart, more nimbly even than your fingers have ever caressed my nipples or probed within me, and I feel more wanted now than I ever dreamed that any woman could be. Be gentle with me, Lover: you pretty much own me, emotionally, and my greatest terror on this fucking Plateau is that I'll disappoint you or somehow lose you."

"Nicole," he shook his head half in wonder and half in frustration at seeming unable to convince her of the depth of her security in his life, "you've never disappointed me. You've only made me proud of you, and made me feel extremely fortunate to love you, and to have that priceless emotion returned so selflessly. Keep in mind what you've told me about how carefully I maintain my possessions, and know that you are and will be what I tend to most carefully of all. The force of what I feel for you makes the mightiest Tyrannosaur's strength impotent by comparison. That note you left was one of the sweetest, most wonderful things that I have known, and it in no way diminished you in my esteem. It only made me miss you the more. You, of all people, have nothing for which to be embarrassed. I love you, beyond what I can express, or I would write you an equally revealing note. "

She came into his arms, lifting herself, wrapping her legs around his waist, fitting effortlessly into place in every curve of their bodies, through much practice.

"George, I think you did just tell me what you wanted to write. I'm the luckiest damn woman to have ever lived. Oh, Genius, please just hold me for a moment. I'm about to make a fool of myself and cry when you and the others need me most." And he felt her tears through the fabric of his shirt, dripping all the way through him, into the smallest recesses of his heart. The drops from her eyes made him feel not wet, but warm, and very, very whole, for the first time in all of his days.

Unknown to the couple, the acoustics of this stone warehouse were such that a "sound tunnel" carried their words to their friends.

Ned and Veronica had been about to talk when she heard the other pair, and she had shushed him, to listen.

As Finn hung from Challenger's shoulders and waist, crying softly into his chest, Veronica turned to Malone and said, "I'm just beside myself with embarrassment that I sat here and eavesdropped on George and Finn. Ned, don't you dare tell anyone what we just did."

He enthusiastically promised his silence, and added that he almost wished they hadn't heard what they had, for he had planned to write her a note expressing much of what George had just said.

"Now, " he admitted, "I'm going to have a heck of a time topping that, and I'm a really swell writer. Dang that man!"

Veronica chuckled. "Well, it's the thought that counts, Ned. Do you mean that? You feel for me what they do for each other?" She studied his face with all intensity, knowing that this was a pivotal moment in their relationship.

"Uh," he stammered, "well, I wouldn't necessarily compare what we have to their idea that the Sun rises and sets on them, but George has always had a pretty strong ego. Other than that, yeah, I guess that's about how I feel. And I want you to know it, before we get into anything rough today. I should have told you this stuff a long time ago. While I was gone, looking for myself, the main thing that I discovered is that I'd left the best part of me back with you in the Treehouse. It was a void that I can only fill if you tell me that you missed me that much. So, did you? "

She studied his face, the emotion raw and plain in his eyes, and knew that he meant this from every fiber of his being. Ned, Ned, my 'brother' no longer, she marvelled.

"Let me get back to you on that in a note when we get out of this present mess," she murmured. "First, I want to ask Finn what she wrote to George. Whatever it was, that's probably what I want to say to you. She's just bolder than I am. But, the short answer is, yes. I'll wear this silly little gee-string or whatever else it takes, if it'll keep you looking at me this way for the rest of our lives. Are you sure, Ned? What about Gladys?"

He snorted dismissively. "Gladys, who?"

"Ned..." she warned.

"I'm serious," he insisted." Gladys, who? She's just a memory, and I know now that she was never as much to me as you've become. Gladys wanted to tell me how to please her, and make me jump through hoops, to prove she could make me do what she wanted. You don't, and haven't. And, won't. That isn't you. So, as long as we're having this discussion, how many children do you want? I'm thinking about a girl first, if she looks like you."

Veronica blushed dramatically. "I guess we'd better think about things like that, if you're really serious. No more journeys of adventure on your own?"

He shook his head. "No, not alone, anyway. Maybe for a while, with you. We need some time to ourselves. But we need to get back to the others soon. We all need each other, although I need you most of all. Uh, look: if I find a nice diamond ring in that palace today, will you let me put it on your finger, tonight? I want to take you off the market, lady, even if it will be awhile before we can officially marry."

She smiled. "I guess I'd better tell all of my other suitors to leave brokenhearted, Ned," she answered. "I will wear your ring, or rings, whatever you put on my finger.

And when we're ready, I'll do my best to have that child you mentioned. But I won't mind if it's a boy first. They need longer to grow up, anyway. Heck, look at you." But even as she teased him, Veronica leaned across and kissed his lips, and they embraced, for the first time as a committed couple. It felt good, she thought.

And, had anyone asked Edward T. Malone, he would have insisted that it felt even better!

Marguerite Krux was furious, a state not totally unknown to her personality, although such anger as she now felt had lain dormant for months. Love and companionship, even trust, had mellowed her, and she had such anger flashes much less often than was once the case.

Now, she felt outrage not over some triviality that offended her sensibilities or her dignity, but because someone was endangering her love, while deliberately insulting them both, simply to display his power and cold-heartedness.

The source of the rage that she forced herself to contain on the surface was Cuauhtémoc.

Having forced Marguerite's man to risk his life in the arena, and thus gotten him injured for the entertainment of a pack of bloody savages not fit to clean an English gentleman's boots, the First Speaker had added insult to injury after seeming at first to offer mercy. When Roxton was borne out on a litter, Marguerite had been told that she might accompany him to a secure room in the palace, where she and he could hold one another, and her hands and her heart would be available to help heal his body and his spirit.

Now, in the chamber where Roxton had been taken, she was hearing from a court official who was also a senior shaman that although she could kneel or sit by John, her hands would remain bound. This was to prevent them embracing, that the couple might begin to realize that her favors would be denied him, except through particularly good humor on the part of the emperor.

"The First Speaker wishes both of you pale people to know that the girl, Ma-greet, is now his toy, and will be offered for use by others only when he deems that especially suitable. Perhaps when you are both displayed in the zoo, Ma-greet will sometimes be placed in the same cage as this man, that the people may see the two of you rut for their amusement. Perhaps you have different ways than we civilized persons do. In any event, the crowd likes seeing the animals breed.

"For now, female, sit or kneel by him and speak to him. He can touch you, if not too intimately." His countenance softened. "I suppose that I have been made the judge of what is too intense, and I am a kind man, who admires a brave warrior. When his wounds have been fully stitched and anointed with balms to kill infection, you may lie by him and speak for a half hour or so.

"You will then be taken into the next room, which you see to the right, between the wooden bars. There, you can be unbound, and reach out to him between the bars, which will prevent you becoming too close.

"The First Speaker had intended to use Ma-greet tonight for the first time, but with the ceremonies following the sacred ball game, he decided to have another girl brought to him from the harem. Because you alone of the pale people and the Zanga prisoners can speak the language of Heaven, you will be left here, lest Roxton become worse off. You can then summon the guards within the hall, and tell them what is amiss.

"The golden girl will be brought to the harem to begin her life there if she is not chosen by the winning captain, so you will not see her again until fate decrees.

Now, I will treat Roxton. These warriors will remain in the room to ensure his good behavior until time to remove Ma-greet. Proceed.

Marguerite waited until the man had begun stitching Roxton's leg wound, then knelt deeply, and placed her lips on his. "My love, my John," she whispered. "I will find a way out of this. We will belong to one another as ourselves, not as what this pompous jackass of a would-be demigod wishes. I will have you when and as I can, even if it means playing at being a mating animal in this filthy villain's zoo. As soon as you are well enough to travel, we will find our freedom. And our friends may still be alive. They won't leave without doing something. I know them. How bad off are you? Can you even stand?"

Roxton said that he could stand, but after a few seconds, the injured leg might collapse, and he would need a cane or crutch to walk. The damage to his ribs was worse, but he could get by, if he didn't have to twist his body much. His heel had been cut, and he would favor it, lest it become infected. He had no wish to lose a foot or leg.

"I just hope these perishing Indians know what they're doing when they say their ointments will stop infection. If I get gangrene, I'm done for. If Challenger springs us, he or Xma'Klee will have some medicine in which we can have more confidence."

Marguerite said that she thought the Tecamaya probably knew more about medicine than she'd care to admit, inasmuch as they were intelligent for their kind, and had so much need to treat wounds just such as his.

"I got to know Finn rather well when Burton had us, and she has as much a sense of honor now as George does. If they can do anything, they will. They're armed, and they're daring and smart. Don't give up; they may have been waiting for things to settle down, and to see where we are. If the rebel Zanga or the Xingu haven't killed them, we'll see them, I think. If they'd been taken, these cretins would be smirking about it." She leaned again, nuzzling Roxtons lips and nose.

He grimaced with pain as the cactus spine needle passed through his flesh, and almost fainted as his ribs were sewn. The shaman smeared on goo, and had Marguerite tell Roxton that he must be careful not to rub it off.

When he had done all that he could, the shaman had a large clay pitcher of water brought, and spread a mat for Marguerite beside Roxton.

"Ma-greet, listen. I am hungry, and have missed the midday meal. I see no particular harm in leaving you here until I have fed. I will eat at my leisure, then return to place you in the room next door. Until then, talk to your man and tell him how you will entertain him when permitted. Tell him to heal. If he behaves, I think Cuauhtémoc will treat him well, and the two of you will likely become a popular exhibit for the people. Do not let him despair, or he will heal less well.. Do you understand what I have said, and why?"

"Yes, mighty healer," she spoke humbly. "Thank you for being generous with the time you allow us today. This man is my greatest joy, and I will encourage him. Tell the First Speaker, when you see him, that I will be an absolute delight to him however he wishes, if he grants Lord Roxton good care and food."

The shaman thought, carefully considering her demeanor. He nodded. "It is good. I will tell Cuauhtémoc this. For a woman, you are wise, and I see that you do love this Roxton. The Speaker can in any event command what he will from you, but if he sees that you have the right attitude, he may well be merciful with both of you. Now, I am going to eat. Enjoy your time with this gallant champion."

He motioned the warriors out; telling two to remain outside the door until he returned, then the woman would be moved. The Tecamaya left, barring the door from without.

Marguerite had just laid down by Roxton, and he was caressing her, both encouraging one another, speculating on what would come next in this Hellhole, when they heard a din outside

There was a scuffling sound, and one guard said something challenging, which Marguerite said was him asking who someone was. Then, there came the sound of falling bodies and a yelp of pain.

The door shivered slightly as the bar was removed, and as Marguerite and Roxton looked on in trepidation, it burst outward. They saw George Challenger and Finn, the latter with her crossbow primed to shoot into the room. Challenger had his Colt out and cocked. Behind them, Marguerite could see Veronica, dressed in one of Ned's blue shirts, and Ned, the latter facing down the hall, .45 automatic Colt in his right hand. The guards were down, one with a Zanga arrow sticking out of his chest, the other with a familiar-looking aluminum crossbow bolt through his throat.

Her heart leaped in joy, and she stood as Challenger asked if there were other enemies close by. Told that they had left for now, he holstered the big .45 and drew his Bowie knife, motioning for Marguerite to turn so that he could free her hands. She happily complied, but she was Marguerite Krux, and a suitable comment seemed called for...

"Well, John, it looks as if we are finally being rescued, "she quipped. "It took long enough. Good help is just getting SO hard to find!"

Challenger chuckled, and filled them in on what they had been doing, then asked how badly Roxton was hurt.

As soon as she was rid of the thongs on her wrists, Marguerite embraced Finn and the young blonde felt her brunette friend shaking, half from reaction and half from excitement at being at last free. She pulled her close, murmuring reassurance and apologizing for having taken so long to arrive.

Challenger and Malone helped Roxton up, and gave him a spear from a dead guard to use as a support. He held Marguerite then, and both had tears running from their eyes.

Marguerite asked whether their clothes had been found, or if Veronica was just wearing Malone's shirt because she looked so good in it. Veronica leaned in and hugged both the Roxtons, happily announcing her engagement to Ned.

"No, Marguerite, no clothes yet, but we captured a slave girl who says that our things are all in a treasure room down the hall just below us. We thought it best to get you and John first. But can you believe that Ned is making me keep that ocelot loincloth and wear it for him sometimes?! Men are so, so..."

"Male!" laughed Marguerite, clapping her hands. "Roxton hasn't said anything like that yet, but give him time. Of course, these feathers are getting a bit ruffled, so I may be off of that particular hook."

"I was more afraid of ruffling your feathers in a different sense," said John, "So I haven't brought that up. I must say, though, that I haven't any complaints. Whatever the Tecamaya are otherwise, they knew how to best set you off, like displaying a precious jewel to fullest advantage in a shop. "

"Yeah, Marguerite," said Finn, looking intently at her friend. "I want to copy that for myself and get one like Vee's. You look terrific!"

"By the way, although we have no clothing for you yet," said Ned, "we did stop by those rocks where you were captured and found your sidearms. You now have your pistols, and John, his knife." He had a Zanga man pass in the weapons, which Roxton and Marguerite happily belted on.

Roxton told his love that she looked incredibly sensual, wearing just the gun belt and her brief garment and feathers in her hair. She struck a saucy pose, then, cheeks glowing, kissed him, telling him to hold that thought until they could act on it.

"Perhaps we should get underway," noted Challenger. "John, can you walk at all? Shall we get some Zanga to carry you on that litter?"

It was decided that he would indeed fare better on the litter for as long as that was possible, and Xma'Klee motioned to two of his men to sling their rifles and carry the British lord. And so, they passed rapidly down the hall, and ran down a ramp to the floor below, Marguerite beside Roxton's litter, holding his hand on one side, and Veronica's hand with her other, squeezing it in utter bliss at feeling free at last. She realized that she was laughing, and heard Ned Malone telling her to hush, for they had no idea what awaited them below. But she still laughed within, for she had seldom felt as glad in her life as she did at this wonderful moment!

Before they rounded the corner into the hall below, Challenger got down low on the floor, and peeped around to see what was in store. He saw six warriors guarding the room that the Wa'reera girl, Naida, had described, and no one else in sight.

He stood, and motioned to Naida to come forward.

She did, wearing a spare halter top and brief loincloth of Sa'eera's dyed a cheerful yellow.

Challenger had Marguerite ask her why more guards weren't watching what was supposedly the treasure room, and Naida said that the Tecamaya had little crime, and that most of them would be too terrified of the First Speaker's revenge if they took anything. Six men were enough to see that none of them conspired to steal, and their presence was about half symbolic, just to ensure that people knew that there was a guard here. Cuauhtémoc evidently hadn't considered that the explorers whom he hadn't captured might raid his treasure: he probably thought they were fleeing for their lives. He had badly underestimated Anglo and American courage and sense of moral duty to save their friends.

Challenger had a plan. He had Xma'Klee bring the Skull, and handed his hat to Finn to carry. He then had Marguerite walk beside him, on his left, ready to interpret, and told her what he wanted her to say.

"That's bloody ridiculous, George! Even this lot won't believe something that simplistic!" Marguerite was aghast...

But when he told her the rest of his plan, she agreed that it might at least get them in range of the Zanga archers, so that they wouldn't have to fire a gun in these enclosed halls. Not only would the blasts endanger their hearing; the noise would attract additional Tecamaya.

When all of their party had been briefed, Challenger, Finn, Marguerite, and five Zanga bowmen walked bravely around the corner and began closing the distance to the Tecamaya guards. Everyone else hid where they were; ready to rush forward when needed.

Before she left, Marguerite kissed John and they held hands briefly, wishing one another luck. And then, it was on, for good or for worse.

As they advanced down the hall, the Tecamaya sentries stopped talking and moved toward them, lifting their weapons.

"Stop!" shouted Marguerite. "I shall now reveal my true identity, and if you would live, you must listen! I am the reincarnation of La Malinche, she who was called originally by the Aztec, Mallinali, meaning One Reed. I have been sent from the spirit world into this new body, because the gods are angry with the Tecamaya. You have not heeded Quetzalcoatl's admonition to cease human sacrifice! This very dawn, more hearts were ripped from their bodies, and condemnation will be upon Cuauhtémoc and all his people who do not flee!

"Look carefully at the white man with me. See his reddish hair and beard? It is Senor Pedro, who drove you from Guatemala! Behold, the golden-haired girl behind him: she is Woman Who Kills, sent to avenge the souls of the sacrificed!

"I have been sent to warn all who will repent and flee! Even now, Spanish cannon are being trained on Xochilenque! You will hear their voices soon. Their cavalry and their terrible war dogs are even now within a mile of this place, and they will wash their lances and their swords in Tecamaya blood! Flee while yet you can!"

"Fool woman!" snarled the lead warrior. "I know well who you are. You are the new slave slut of the First Speaker. Who has freed you, and this man who fought in the ball court? Let us see if your supernatural hide will repel a javelin!" And he fitted a shaft into his atlatl.

As the guard raised his weapon, Marguerite, Finn, and Challenger aimed their revolvers in unison, and the savage fell, pierced through the heart, the sternum, and the base of his throat, the latter being Challenger's .45 bullet that blew out a chunk of his spine. He dropped like the proverbial rock.

"Hold! "cried Challenger, taking the crystal skull from beneath his coat and lifting it. He holstered his Colt, and rotated the skull before the Tecamaya, displaying it to them.

They glanced at it curiously, and then started in shock as the skull's eyes lit up and the glowing sockets looked upon them as Challenger told them through Marguerite that the skull was that of Cortes, and that his spirit was angry and had come to claim the souls of those who had escaped his Conquest of Mexico. This was accompanied by Challenger turning the skull slightly, making it appear to look upon each guard.

One cast his spear, which Finn deflected with a borrowed Zanga shield, and then the Zanga archers shot, from some 15 yards range. The one Tecamaya who was still standing screamed, looked at the skull, and fled.

"That blighter will bring the lot of them down on us," Challenger complained. "Well, it can't be helped. Lets get this door open and see where your things are." He set the skull down, and Marguerite ducked in front of him, working on the brass lock with a slim metal pick. She had not been a jewel thief for nothing...

As the lock gave, Challenger and Malone (who had now come forward wth the group from around the hall corner) swung the doors wide, and Challenger used the flashlight that he had just employed to light the eyes of the skull to peer within.

"Well, "pleaded Marguerite, "are our clothes here, or not?"

"Oh, "said Malone, "yes, the clothes are here. Veronica, come here, and get dressed. Pass these other things to Roxton and Marguerite. But just LOOK at what else is in here."

Xma'Klee lit a torch, and pressed forward. But he had not been prepared for what he saw, and was stunned at what the flames showed in that vast limestone chamber.

"What is it?" called Roxton, pulling on his trousers, supported by Veronica, who decided that his need for clothing was more immediate than her own, thanks to Ned's shirt.

"John...Oh, John! There are wonderful things here, beyond our wildest dreams," exclaimed Marguerite. She stood, transfixed, forgetting to dress as she stared at the contents of that vault.

"What's so special?" demanded Roxton, now buttoning his shirt, leaning against the opposite wall for steadiness. "Is my rifle there?"

"Yes, John, it is," said Challenger, and passed it to Finn, who handed the Lee-Enfield to Veronica to hold for Roxton. Marguerite's clothes and sporting .303 came next, and then Challenger let the verbal hammer drop.

"What I think we may have here is the bulk of the Aztec treasure that mysteriously disappeared after the fall of Tenotichtitlan! There is more gold and jewelry here than I imagined that we would begin to see. Quickly, Xma'Klee: have the men bring those leather bags and start filling them, before the Tecamaya arrive."

Even as he spoke, there was a loud boom and a hollow echo, and the top of a cliff at the far end of the city fell off the towering rock face and onto the Tecamaya below. A second, louder BOOM came in seconds, and Challenger drily remarked that the First Speaker and his family had just "gotten a bang out of life", as this was probably the charge hidden beneath the royal dais at the ball court.

This had become an explosive day in more ways than one...

"Hurry", exclaimed Marguerite, pulling on her skirt, her boots already on. ""Grab what we can of this stuff! It is fabulous! Beyond words! Apart from the gold and jewel values alone, these are priceless historical artifacts! The value is unfathomable!"

"Yes," agreed Challenger, "But the value and the right to them is largely for the entire human race. Culturally, this lot is of inestimable importance to science. Don't just think of money, Marguerite! This is part of humanity! I want enough to give some to museums. We shall, of course, have to steer clear of the Mexican government, who will try to claim it if they can."

"Stuff the bleeding Mexican government!", she retorted. "They haven't done a blasted thing to recover this treasure, and they're all corrupt cretins, anyway. We're stealing this fair and square, as legitimately as Cortes would have."

"Hold still, Marguerite," said Finn. "Let me hang this around your neck." And she offered a medallion of the famed Aztec calendar on a chain of gold links. It was priceless not only in value, but in friendship, the younger girl told her. She passed a similar chain (detailing the grotesque squatting figure of the Aztec earth mother giving birth) to Veronica.

"Wow! This is ...different." said Veronica, looking at it. "Nicole, thank you. That was sweet of you, Quick; get something for yourself and George. Those rascals will be back here in no time."

Roxton limped forward, leaning on his rifle, holding open a tough canvas bag. Marguerite hastily packed it with various gold and silver sculptures and a selection of the better jewels, as Roxton told Xma'Klee what they would need to do if the Tecamaya appeared in force as they left. The medicine man nodded his understanding and passed the information to his men as they filled their bags. Quite a lot of this largess would wind up in Jacoba's possession, no doubt, but some would be allowed the individual Indians, and they were not slow to take what they could, although they had little need of it in daily life, as gold and jewels were not their normal means of trade and barter. Their interest was more in the realm of war souvenirs, proving their participation and courage on this expedition.

Roxton, now dressed, stuffed some loot in his pockets and vest, then helped Marguerite paw through the vast selection for the better pieces that were still light enough to transport.

All too soon, the expected alarm came, a sentry yelling that a Tecamaya war party was advancing on the palace.

Finn saw a ring that she thought would look lovely on Veronica, and passed it to Ned, who looked baffled. "Put that on Vee's finger later tonight, you dope," she explained. Ned, now understanding, thanked her, and pulled Veronica away from the gold and gems.

"Hold out your finger, honey," he instructed, "I'm not waiting until tonight. I'm marking you as mine here and now!"

"Why, Mr. Malone," she said sweetly, "what an authoritarian thought! The heck of it is, I'll second your motion. I want to be yours, and there's no time like the present to start. With this ring, I/we wed. Something like that, huh?"

"You bet, Baby," Ned answered, "Wed now, bed tonight. We'll have a better ceremony later. Put some clothes on now and lets' get out of here!"

She blushed. "Uh, Ned? Cuauhtémoc kind of kept our panties. And he had my top cut off of me! Maybe I should keep the gee string on now and change later when I get my pack and some spare undies? And some privacy?"

He nodded, actually rather excited at the thought of her in just the ocelot loincloth and his shirt.

She kissed him and they went out with the Zanga responding to the alarm call, Veronica stuffing her damaged top and brief skirt into a bag with some treasure. She rapidly pulled her boots on, and was ready to go. Ned also had a bag full, but knew that his real treasure was the blonde girl beside him, and swelled with pride and with joy that she had declared herself his, at last.

Challenger and Finn took what they could, but were more conservative than the others, mindful that they had to carry their gains while on the run. Roxton pulled Marguerite away and she grudgingly conceded that she had all they could hope to carry.

The Tecamaya were arrayed four deep and twenty across, some three hundred yards distant. Their war chief yelled something and they beat their spears and macquahuitls on their shields, shouted battle cries and charged.

Xma'Klee had arranged his riflemen and archers as Roxton had indicated, in staggered ranks, no man with a rifle too close to his neighbor for the muzzle blast to threaten his ears.

Roxton had three alternate ranks kneel and others stand, to fire over the others' heads.

"Front rank, fire!" he shouted. And the crash of rifles shattered the afternoon, punctuated by the louder BOOM! of another explosive charge detonating.

"Rear rank, fire! Reload! Five paces forward, advance! Second rank, fire! Reload. Five paces forward, advance!"

And so he moved his defenders toward the astounded Tecamaya, who were falling to the bullets and arrows like animals in a charnel house. The carnage was awful, the 7mm bullets easily piercing enemy shields not designed to repel such projectiles. Nor had the always-before-triumphant Tecamaya experienced such a determined, grisly advance from people whom they had thought would flee. Roxton's forces lacked the precision and style of the South Wales Borderers at Rorke's Drift, but their tactics worked. (NOTE: For the true story of the 24th's stand at Rorke's Drift in Natal, South Africa against hordes of Zulu warriors in Jan., 1879, see history books or view the 1964 movie, Zulu!, starring Stanley Baker, Jack Hawkins, and Michael Caine. It is an imposing film, about an event which resulted in no less than 11 Victoria Crosses being awarded to men of a unit of fewer than 200 soldiers and three officers. It remains the most highly decorated engagement of the British Army. One character, Pvt. Hook, VC, was misrepresented by the movie's producers and his descendents sued, successfully. But overall, the film was largely accurate, and it shows authentic Zulu hordes as they will probably never be depicted again, due to changing social conditions in South Africa and in the UK as well.)

Finn saw who was in charge of the enemy, unslung her Mannlicher and put a 6.5mm bullet between his eyes. Roxton swung his .303 on two men who tried to rally the others after the war chief fell, and then, the Tecamaya lines broke, and they ran, leaving at least thirty dead on the field, others wounded, jerking in the dust.

"On to the sacrificial cages," shouted Sa'eera. "Husband will be shamed if we do not save our own from these barbarians! I will not stand in disgrace before Jacoba because we took treasure before we saved our brethren." She looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing green and gold colors, a knurled gold band on her head, pride and determination on her face. Finn looked on her with surprise and a little awe.

"Cool!" said the black-clad blonde. "Sa'eera, you are so wonderful, and so right. Come on, everyone, let's save our captives!" And she took Sa'eera by the hand and led the formation toward the cages behind the zoo, which they had already discovered through their previous scouting.

Xma'Klee and his senior warriors raised their eyebrows at this display from the young queen. Such ardor was unseemly for a woman, but they could not deny her valor or her premise. Xma'Klee nodded, and the Zanga and their white friends moved rapidly toward their next goal. Marguerite paused to appropriate a wheeled vehicle much like a wheelbarrow. She was surprised to find that these people had wheels now, but happily pulled Roxton over and they put their share of the treasure in it.

At the sacrificial cells, Challenger held aloft the lighted skull, proclaiming again through Marguerite that he was Pedro de Alvarado, come to punish the Tecamaya for sacrificial crimes. A hail of bullets and the roar of another dynamite charge in the cliffs overhead sent the guards scurrying and the cages were soon open.

"What about the Xingu captives and these others?" asked Finn. "If we let them go, they'll just be another threat."

"I know my people," screamed Naira. "They mean you no harm. Please free them. "And this was done. The three freed survivors of her village agreed to join the Zanga.

As for the Xingu, Xma'Klee told the whites that they were too savage to comprehend the idea of going their way and not becoming a problem. Here we will draw a curtain, for dark things were done, out of necessity, Roxton and Challenger agreeing that the Xingu were no more than mad dogs. Still, it is better for a rabid dog to die quickly from bullet or arrow than to have his heart ripped out to appease heathen gods.

Now, they moved to the pier, knowing that if they could not seize enough canoes and small ships, their lives and their fresh riches would be forfeit, for the Tecamaya were rallying.

Moving swiftly to the dock, they overwhelmed the token guard there, and boarded a small fleet of canoes and several of the ships, which resembled a children's' version of a Spanish caravel of centuries before. Nonetheless, the small sailing ships were faster than canoes, and carried more men, although they had no cannon.

They pushed off, Naira telling them that the lake was fed by a large river which flowed through it, and that if they stood out from shore a couple of hundred yards, the current would move them along faster than they could row. They moved toward the current, at the same time raising the sails in the small ships.

Cuauhtémoc now appeared on shore, followed by hundreds of Tecamaya. He shouted across the water, "Roxton! Ma-greet! Hear me! When we catch you, you will be skinned alive and be fed piece by piece to the animals in my zoo! Your explosions have killed my family! Your golden-haired friend will lie with me until she produces children to replace those I have lost! Your followers will know what it is to be sacrificed on our pyramids!" And he joined his people on craft being floated down from a second dock further along the beach.

Finn pressed fresh cartridges into the rotary magazine of the Mannlicher-Schoenauer. "I'm taking bets on where Big C.'s soul is going as soon as the SOB gets in range," she announced. "Anyone want to bet on anyplace but straight to Hell?"

Marguerite and Veronica looked at one another and exploded into laughter. "Finn, Darling, you are simply priceless!" Marguerite snickered. "But if you will give me the pleasure of seeing that bastard off, I think I've earned it. John is too unsteady to shoot at any distance. Ned, will you help him lie down? There are some blankets or mats in the bow."

"Sure," Malone responded, and he and Challenger helped the exhausted Roxton further forward and spread a mat for him to lie on. Veronica sat by him, and helped him to drink from a canteen. Challenger assured Roxton that his guns were loaded and were by him, in case the enemy attempted to board their ship.

There was a great howl, and the Tecamaya fleet set out in pursuit of the explorers, who were now almost half a mile out into the lake. Their rowers were at least as strong as the average Zanga, and they had more of the small sailing ships, the sails of which now unfurled in the growing afternoon breeze.

"We must de-mast those ships as they close," reflected Challenger. "John, can we shoot through those wooden masts with just our rifles?"

"I think so," guessed the wan Earl. "We must certainly try. But it'll take repeated shots, from accurate marksmen."

As the fleets closed, the explorers held their fire until the enemy was some 150 yards out. Then, Finn set the forward trigger on her rifle for hair-trigger mode and followed the motion of the waves as she drew sight on a large Tecamaya cacique who stood in the lead canoe, bow ready for use as soon as the distance closed. When she touched the set trigger, the little Austrian rifle cracked, and the cacique lurched, spun half around, and fell into the lake. Marguerite fired at Cuauhtémoc and saw a chunk of wood fly off the mast on which he was leaning. He reacted with alarm, and stepped behind the mast.

Challenger aimed his .375 H&H Magnum, chosen for this trip over the .450 double rifle that he usually favored, in case of larger dinosaurs. The .375, with its higher muzzle velocity, shot much flatter and penetrated enough for almost any reasonable purpose, and recoiled less than the .450, making marksmanship easier. It also held several cartridges that could be fired before needing to reload.

"Get ready, Marguerite, "he instructed. "I am going to shoot at that mast and see if any wood chips or bullet fragments make that devil step out and expose himself to your shot."

She nodded, worked the bolt of her .303 and breathed slowly and carefully, holding the gold bead foresight where she hoped the First Speaker might expose himself. When he did, Challenger's shot stinging and startling him, Marguerite squeezed the trrigger and saw the angry monarch flinch heavily and stagger toward the gunwale of his craft. He seemed to have been struck in the left side or shoulder, and before any could reach him to help, Cuauhtémoc stumbled, hit his head on the ship as he fell, and went overboard as he tried to rise. The captain of the ship called out, and the rudder man swung the bow around, circling to save their emperor.

Veronica was watching through Ned's binocular and called out that there was blood in the water around the First Speaker. He tried to reach the ship, swimming clumsily, his arm definitely impaired. There was a swirl in the water near him and he rose up suddenly, shaking violently. He screamed, and beat at the water with his hands. His body was agitated. and Naira said in a low voice, obviously impressed, that the lake had sharks to at least ten feet, and that they sometimes attacked swimmers or fishing craft. Today, they attacked Cuauhtémoc and his floating, bleeding cacique shot by Finn. Naira held a hand to her mouth, whimpering, and Ned put an arm around her and told her that they would be safe. (NOTE: Such freshwater sharks do exist, the bull shark (C. leucas being the species.)

Challenger called out to Xma'Klee, "Go, bid the soldiers shoot!" And on the shaman's order, a volley of shots rang out, the bullets striking various boats or men in the pursuing fleet.

"Go, bid the soldiers shoot!?" queried Marguerite, an eyebrow cocked in amusement and disbelief.

"It's a line from toward the last of, 'Hamlet', Marguerite," explained Finn, who had recently been reading considerable Shakespeare with Challenger. "It's in there not far from where one guy says to the other about how Hamlet would like to have proved most Royal, had he been put on, meaning put on the throne."

"I realize that, Nicole," drawled Marguerite, amused that this urchin from the future would take it on herself to explain, "Hamlet" to her, the graduate of an exclusive English women's' university. "George...really?"

Challenger chuckled. "I've been wanting to say that all day," he admitted, and Finn, grinning, blew him a kiss.

Several more volleys rang out, and the Tecamaya fleet turned and made its way back toward Xochilenque.

There was a cheer from the Zanga and their white allies, and they settled down to navigating a course back to where they had left their own canoes and supplies.

That evening, ashore again further downriver from where they had launched their own craft, they sat in camp above a sandy beach, on a slate and grass field shrouded from the lake by stands of trees and tall ferns. They had decided to risk lighting small fires, and Marguerite had gotten a cup of tea and some soup down Roxton's throat before he had lapsed into a fevered torpor, occasionally mumbling disconnected thoughts.

They ate, some fish from the lake and rice which they had brought, with greens that Veronica had recognized as being both safe to eat and delicious, with salt and boiled biltong to add flavor.

They examined their treasure and packed it more safely, less liable to be damaged in transit. Ned and Veronica admired her new ring, which was of two intertwined snakes, and soon withdrew to a more private area, where they no doubt discussed much the same things that other couples do on what amounted to their engagement night. Veronica had changed behind some bushes, and again had her own clothes with fresh lingerie. How long this stayed on her, we can only speculate, but when Finn took them some just-boiled water to fill their canteens an hour later, Veronica's clothes were piled beside the couple, who were wrapped in a large blanket. And Ned's attire was right next to hers. Finn apologized, left the water, and retreated.

Marguerite stayed awake beside the stricken Roxton after the fires were extinguished, and lay, staring at the stars, as Finn and Challenger and Sa'eera sat with her. Finn held Marguerite's hand and she held Roxton's hand with her other, a tear rolling down her solemn cheek. They had dressed his wounds anew, but the fever had climbed, and they were concerned. Xma'Klee came and went, smearing on a paste of herbs that he said might cure the gashes left by Xu'ac's macquahuitl.

In time, Roxton murmured incoherent thoughts, and then said things clearly related to events in the late war in France and Belgium.

Challenger, concern written deeply on his face, quoted," In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd, And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars."

"Henry IV?" asked Finn, holding his hand, and he nodded. Marguerite recognized his reverent attitude and concerned countenance, and said nothing, but reached out to squeeze his arm, before bathing Roxton's hot brow with a wet cloth.

She lifted the medallion of the calendar that she wore now around her neck, feeling the inscribed, intricate carvings in the raw, heavy gold, and thanked Finn for this splendid gift. "I want John to admire it, too, if he feels well enough in the morning," she said, and in time, she piled bedding by her man and slept, rousing periodically to take his pulse and mop his forehead.

Challenger and Finn spread a bedroll nearby and lay in one another's arms, staring into the sky, naming constellations. and recalling the adventures of the day, then, they, too, slept, their guns next to their heads.

In the night, a raptor scrabbled down the trail, smelled the humans, and hesitated. There was meat here, but a subtle aura, too, of danger, and he turned and went on, seeking less menacing prey. The moon rose higher, and the camp slept, aside from a few sentries.

Roxton groaned, and Marguerite woke, bathed his brow, kissed his cheek, and snuggled against him. And the clouds passed over, skimming over the distant lake, past the devastation that was a dynamited Xochilenque, where the wails of new widows filled the tepid air.

In the morning, the camp roused and Marguerite, smelling the aroma of coffee, forced herself awake, although her night had been fitful.

She breakfasted on turtle eggs and bread baked in a stone oven, with a strip of biltong. Challenger reminded her to drink plenty of water, and she nodded, mind half elsewhere.

Xma'Klee and Challenger examined Roxton, and were pleased to see less inflammation of his wounds and the fever seemed less. Finn remarked that the herbal compresses probably had some antibiotic effect, and then had to explain that to everyone but George.

She and Sa'eera finished eating, and then drifted into the jungle. They shared girl talk and friend talk and encouraged one another. Both were very happy to be going home, especially with so much treasure to impress Sa'eera's husband. They had lost four men in yesterday's fighting, and another six were injured, the worst being a man whose elbow had been shattered by a stone from an enemy sling.

Seeing that no one followed them, Sa'eera slipped her sling from beneath her sarong, took a stone and cast it at a nearby stump. Her aim was good, and Finn congratulated her.

Something stirred in the shadows beyond the stump, and Finn stepped to the right to get a better look, her right hand moving toward her holster.

A Xingu headhunter howled a yelp of triumph and threw his spear straight at Finn. The blonde girl ducked, the blade just grazing the shoulder strap of her black crop top in its passage, She drew the Smith & Wesson and snapped off a shot that hit the charging Xingu straight in the sternum. He dropped, but rose in a flash and was on her! She staggered back at his body slam, dropping the .38. The dying Indian landed on her, hands reaching for her throat.

"Thwock!" came a hollow sounding thud as Sa'eera whipped her sling in an arc and threw for the Xingu's head. The sound of the rounded lead ball, cast by Challenger, hitting his cranium at high speed had an eerie, fatal, tone, and the savage dropped instantly, his temple smashed by the blow.

Sa'eera rushed to Finn, handing her the gun, and trying to roll the heavy warrior off her friend.

"I will attend to this matter", came Xma'Klee's deep voice, and he lifted the young queen and set her aside. He rolled the dead Xingu away, and called for help.

He took the sling from Sa'eera, and told her to give Finn any copper or lead balls she had left. He dropped the sling on Finn's waist.

"You are well, Woman Who Kills?", he queried.

Finn shook her head, trying to clear away the cobwebs. "I think I'm okay," she stuttered. She felt her throat and rotated her head, noting that her neck ached, but she seemed otherwise unharmed.

"Sa'eera," intoned Xma'Klee, "I believe that I alone saw you cast the missile that killed this Xingu dog. You are the daughter of my favorite sister, and I love you dearly. If anyone else learns what you did, you know that Jacoba must discipline you. Even a queen and a favorite wife must obey our laws and customs."

"Uncle," Sa'eera stammered, "If I had not cast the ball, Finn would be killed. I was in terror for her. I beg mercy. Please, say nothing. Husband's heart would be heavy, but I would be banished, at least." She knew well that Zanga women did not handle or use weapons...

"Sa'eera, this is deeper than this one occasion," said Xma'Klee sadly. "You had much skill, and it was obvious that you have been practicing with a sling. That was not beginner's luck."

Sa'eera wrung her hands, almost in tears. "Great Shaman, report me if you must. I know you feel the call of duty, and I have been disobedient. Do you think Husband will be content to banish me, or will I be sold to another tribe?" Normally, the Zanga kept no slaves, but certain infractions might result in them selling a woman rather than killing her. Being banished into the jungle alone was almost tantamount to a death sentence, and some girls begged to be sold to a friendly tribe rather than be driven from their village to the mercy of beasts and hostile tribes. Sometimes, the girl would be offered the choice: banishment or slavery in the hands of those who traded peacefully with Jacoba.

"Hey!" stormed Finn, "Just a cottonpicking minute here! Xma'Klee, how could you report her for saving my life? I recall having saved your self-righteous hide several times. You want that to become public knowledge? For your tribe to know that a woman had to save you?!"

She calmed a little, and added, "Anyway, if you do turn her in, George and I will buy her if she is to be sold. We got quite a bit of that treasure, and I'd give every cent of it for Sa'eera. Could you arrange that with Jacoba? What does he care who buys her, if the price is right? "

Xma'Klee looked at Finn curiously. "You think Challenger will also help pay for her? Does he wish a second wife, or will you keep her in his collar, to do work that you wish to avoid? Laundry? To help slake his lusts? I thought that your kind were jealous of other women to help please your men?"

Finn snorted. "If we buy her, Sa'eera will not be a bond girl. She will come to us as my sister, in all but blood. I doubt that George will ask her to share our bed, and I would have to think very hard before agreeing to that. Women of my kind are jealous, even of girls whom we love, otherwise. But she will have an honored place in the Treehouse. My friend Veronica will see the justice in that, or I will see that George, Sa'eera and I build ourselves a new home nearby." She turned to the trembling Zanga girl. "Sa'eera, you risked your marriage and your citizenship and your freedom to protect me, and I will not let you come to harm. If Jacoba sees money in it for himself, he will sell you to us rather than banish you, I think. But, Xma'Klee, I ask you to please think very hard if you must report this. You told me once that you owed me, and that the favor of one such as you was not to be taken lightly. I beg you, overlook this and I will find a way ro repay you."

Xma'Klee put a hand on the shoulder of each . "Girls, hear me. I am a loving uncle and I am a man who remembers his debts to one who has saved his own life. If no one else comes forward, I have seen nothing. But Sa'eera must take great care that she not be caught practicing with weapons. Jacoba would be angry with you for teaching her, Finn, and with her for learning.

"When my men come to sweep the jungle for other Xingu, say nothing. I will tell them that Finn slew this man, after he menaced our young queen. They wll see no reason to doubt this if no one acts guilty. My debt to you will be paid, Finn. And Sa'eera will not face a terrible fate."

"Being my adopted sister isn't THAT bad a fate," chirped Finn.

He shook his head, smiling. "Fierce Girl, Jacoba might be forced to take firmer measures if some think selling her to you would be too easy, and that she would suffer little. He cannot afford to upset the people too badly and keep their respect. Let us hope that only I saw. Shhh. Here come the warriors."And he had them search for more headhunters. This was probably not the sole one to evade the Tecamaya and be prowling here.

No one mentioned seeing what had happened, and Sa'eera and Xma'Klee helped a still half dazed Finn back to camp.

There, Challenger examined her, and treated a slice in her shoulder where the spear blade had passed, just breaking the skin. Marguerite quickly sewed the rent in her top, and Veronica brought her a cup of coffee. Sa'eera hovered near, grateful o be near Finn, and glad that the Treehouse women nurtured her companion so well. No one spoke of anyone but Finn having killed the Xingu, and all was well when they began loading the canoes in an hour's time.

The next two days were fairly routine, and they made camp the final day relatively close to Zanga lands.

When a crimson dawn hemorrhaged across the sky, Finn had already completed her shift at guard duty. The other sentries were Zanga, but a white person with a rifle needed to be awake in case of urgent need. Marguerite had been excused duty, that she might be Roxton's personal nurse, a task from which she could not have been budged, had anyone even thought to do so.

She had slept fitfully, rousing often as Roxton stirred, often dabbing at his fevered brow with a damp cloth, and then snuggling next to him as she returned to a fitful drowse. Now, as the sun rose over this primordial world, she felt his pulse and brow, and summoned Challenger, who was just rising, groggy from having taken the guard shift after Finn's.

He shuffled over, wiping sleep from bloodshot eyes, and asked what was wrong.

"Check John's temperature," she said. "It seems lower, and the redness and swelling of his wounds is less, I think. Oh, God, please let it be less. "

Challenger stuck a thermometer under Roxton's tongue, praying that the unconscious man wouldn't bite the glass tube in his slumber. He didn't, and when the scientist looked at the reading, he saw that it was down to just over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. He told Marguerite, and they rejoiced, for it had been higher at dusk. Roxton's forehead and limbs felt cooler to the touch, and his color was better.

Finn stumbled up, and the three talked about the day's plans.

"I'll go with a Zanga man and hunt," Finn said. "John needs red meat to get his blood count up, to build new blood. We can eat fish or birds and give him venison if I can get some. We need meat in camp, anyway. Marguerite, is he taking much water?

That lady confirmed that Roxton had drunk several times during the night, and had kept the liquid down, and all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Xma'Klee came over and cleaned Roxton's wounds, treating them again with his herbal compound, and told them that they could light small cooking fires. Asked to provide a hunting companion and guide for Finn, he said that he would help her, personally, and Finn thanked him. She actually felt rather thrilled that this man, second in power only to Jacoba among his tribe, would condescend to hunt with her, or with any woman, for that matter. She also knew that he had a formidable reputation as a hunter and warrior, as well as being a healer and the diviner of the will of the gods.

Later, after breakfasting on turtle eggs and fish with cornmeal cakes and fruit, the whites sat together, drinking tea, or in Marguerite's case, coffee. She loved tea as much as any other Briton, but in the morning, coffee was usually her soul mate and her solace.

They then loaded the canoes, Xma'Klee agreeing with Finn that hunting would be better further down the river. He knew a landing about an hour ahead where a deer and peccary trail ran. They would set an ambush on this trail in early afternoon, when the animals began to move following the noonday heat. Finn's rifle would make a kill far easier than Zanga bows or spears. Some of the Zanga now had Mauser military rifles, true, but their marksmanship left much to be desired, most thinking that the loud noise was what made a gunshot kill! They had been told about careful sight alignment, but the concept was beyond their ability to implement, in most cases.

Roxton roused, asked for water, and then succumbed to sleep again. That was best for him now, Challenger noted, to let his body use all its resources to fight infection and to heal the slashes on his side and leg. The injury to his heel was the most painful, he said.

He was lucid and was delighted to learn that they had escaped the Tecamaya and that their treasure was intact.

And so, the expedition moved on, Marguerite taking time from dozing next to Lord Roxton to admire the wonderful gold Aztec calendar pendant that Finn had presented to her, and to rummage among their other treasure. But the greatest wealth she possessed, she knew, slept beside her, his fever now lower still, as Xma'Klee's magic herbs and potions drove away the specter of doom that had loitered so closely the previous evening.

That afternoon, Finn went ashore with Sa'eera and Xma'Klee at the landing they'd discussed, to hunt.

As they moved inland, a six-foot caiman rushed from the riverine jungle and went into the water with a loud plop, and they were grateful that it had sought refuge, and not attacked.

Half a mile on, a green phase of the big constrictor snake called an anaconda slithered over a log, into a sluggish pool. Finn made a pun about it reminding her of a guy she'd once known: he was a "real reptile", she quipped.

Then, she had to explain the joke to her Zanga companions, although Sa'eera quickly caught on. They just don't have our sense of humor, Finn reflected.

Her thoughts turned to Marguerite and John Roxton. "They'll laugh at my reptile pun," she thought, "when John is well again." And she determined that she WOULD kill them a deer that day.

Xma'Klee motioned to a place off the trail, where they could lie in wait, and they took up a position there, Sa'eera wrapping a netting hammock around herself, that her light skin and golden bra and sarong not attract a prey animal's eye. (Sa'eera's mother was light-skinned for a Zanga and her father had been an American member of Veronica's parents' expedition. She looked almost entirely European, especially with the blonde hair dye.)

Xma'Klee whispered that he would take the shot with his heavy bow, if Finn missed with her rifle. "We need venison," he pointed out, needlessly, Finn thought.

About 4:00PM, a brocket deer ambled down the path, headed to a tributary of the river for a drink. It was alert already for big cats and for raptors, and when it got to the river, it would drink with great caution, lest a plesiosaur or a crocodile or caiman or an anaconda strike. The lives of the hunted are lived in a state of perpetual wariness...

The deer scanned the brush along the trail, but missed the motionless humans, and when it was within 60 feet, jungle ranges tending to be short, Finn raised the Mannlicher slowly and quietly, and put a 160 grain (weight) 6.5mm bullet behind its left foreleg.

Death was quick, and they dressed out the carcass, Finn trying a spare Bowie knife she'd borrowed from Roxton, who had promised to make her one of her own by Christmas.

They lugged the animal back to the landing, Sa'eera thrilled at having been allowed to join the hunt.

There, they found that Challenger and a Zanga warrior had slain a peccary near camp, and that meat and a tapir shot by Ned Malone were enough to feed them all. Leftover meat would be dried and eaten later.

They moved downriver a few miles, to camp in uplands above the river, where attack by water-dwelling creatures was less likely, and built small cooking fires.

Dinner was cheerful, for they were well fed, they had much treasure, and home was near. Roxton was better, too, although still drifting in and out of consciousness. Veronica had watched over him so that Marguerite could sleep for a few hours, then that lady had insisted on resuming her vigil next to her beloved.

As night grew deeper, all retired to their bedding, save for a few sentries. Tomorrow might bring them all the way to the Zanga royal enclosure, where a warm welcome would await them despite their losses, once Jacoba saw the amount of their treasure.

Finn laid down beside Challenger, and he had no more embraced her and offered a good night kiss than she was asleep, weary beyond description from their journey and the stress of their passage through this dangerous world beyond the Treehouse. After an hour, she mewed piteously in her sleep, waking Challenger, who pulled her to him and comforted her until she stretched and went fully back to sleep, now with a wonderful smile on her young, untroubled face.

After another day, they reached the main Zanga village, where the returning victorious warriors were welcomed, as was their loot from Xochilenque. Jacoba was glad to see both that and his Paramount Shaman and his youngest wife.

The explorers argued successfully that they should retain much of the treasure, and they had hidden some, too, in their gear. Jacoba grumbled, but pressed by his shaman, his wives, and his daughter, Assai, finally agreed to an equitable share of the gold and jewels. He had no way to evaluate the items from a cultural standpoint and gladly told Marguerite to take some clay and ceramic figurines to decorate the Treehouse. He would have been astounded to learn what these items would sell for in the civilized world.

The explorers accepted an offer to eat with the Zanga Royal family and to pitch their tents within the village, for it was near dusk by then.

The following morning, the Treehouse group ate breakfast and took leave of their native hosts. In about two hours, they had reached their arboreal home and shut off the electric fence. They staggered into the elevator, weary but happy. They had dragged the treasure and much of their supplies on travois sticks, and were delighted to have them to ease the burden of lugging the heavy treasure on their backs. Xma'Klee had loaned them a dozen warriors to help carry treasure and to bring John Roxton on a stretcher, his body not having healed enough for him to exert much. His rib wound, in particular, still botherd him and was bruised. Fortunately, Challenger had dosed him with antibiotic pills of his making, and the swelling and inflammation were down. His fever was almost gone.

The shower was very busy for a time, as the various Treehouse dwellers cleaned up. Marguerite and Roxton boldly shared it, and no one said anything, although some looked at one another and grinned. The general feeling was that it would be naive to pretend that the Roxtons weren't a couple, or that they didn't share every part of their anatomy, and now that this applied to the others as well, it just seemed superfluous, even hypocritical, to make an issue of two lovers bathing together. It wasn't as if the vicar was coming to Sunday dinner, to see and broadcast the sin to the whole parish!

Everyone unpacked and stowed his or her equipment, and Malone and Finn began to make dinner. Veronica soon joined them, sorting out spinach, squash, beans, and the meat of a brocket deer they'd shot after leaving the Zanga village.

Following dinner, the couples had coffee and berries together, and then they broke up and drifted off to their rooms.

Challenger and Finn were in the lab, trying to decide where to stow the Crystal Skull, when Veronica walked in on them.

"Oh", she said, staring at the Skull, resting on a granite table before the couple. "That's what I was coming to discuss. I wanted to know what became of that dreadful thing. George, I don't want it in my home. That damned reminder of all that was horrible on our trip makes my skin crawl. Can't Xma'Klee keep it? Doesn't Jacoba want it, to make himself feel more powerful?"

"Actually, no," said Challenger, and told her how they had concealed the Skull from the native monarch and conspired with Xma'Klee to keep it, in the name of science. "Had Jacoba swung the other way, and wanted it, I would be even more fearful, for he already has an enormous ego, and if he thought the skull gave him added powers..."

"Vee, I think you're overreacting, but this is your home, and if you're serious, George and I can build a place of our own, off your property, if necessary," said Finn, who was tired and rather irritable. "I bet Ned and John would help us."

Veronica, shocked at Finn's anger, was about to reply when another female voice entered the fray.

"Calm down, both of you," ordered Marguerite. "Nicole, you're not allowed to have tantrums; that's my province. Seriously, girls, this isn't something that should come between any of us. What we have, our special bond, should be inviolate. If anyone has to move out, it should be after children come, when that couple needs more space. When that happens, I'm sure every one of us will pitch in and help to build a new home, in a safe area, protected by another fence.

"Now, listen, both of you. You, too, George. Finn will follow you anywhere, but you have no business taking her away from the rest of us over a scientific item, even one as important as this. And it isn't necessary: all we have to do is to build a brick enclosure for it, far enough from the Treehouse that Veronica and, goodness knows, I, feel safe. Or, as safe as can be expected, with that skull loose in the world, and I have to admit that it has been here for some time, and the Plateau hasn't changed much over it. We need to unlock what we can of its secrets; even I know that, as much as I fear it. Veronica, Finn, George: will that satisfy everyone? Building that...entity...its own cheerful little house? Whatever becomes of it, it shouldn't be given the power to disrupt our friendships and our home here. Nicole and I, especially, have made friendships here that we never dreamed we would, and I cannot begin to tell you what that means to us. If it will ruin what we have, I'll steal that flaming little skull and drop it into the fiery fissure that John and I discovered when we finally located the missing half of the Ourobouros. Then, no one will have it, but maybe we'll still have one another, and that's what's really valuable in this world, not a quartz skull, not diamonds. Is that clear, even to you blondes?" Her face looked flushed, for Marguerite, despite her attempt to be humorous, was genuinely concerned that the Challengers would move out, driving a wedge into what she had come to treasure most in the world: her sense of family, of finally "belonging."

"That was quite a speech, Marguerite," drawled Veronica, amused as well as rattled, when she realized how easily her pronouncement about not tolerating the Skull in her home had escalated into something ugly. "You're right. I can't let that thing break up what we have, and I won't. Finn, honey, sisters fight, but we're sisters, still, so as far as I'm concerned. Will you and George accept the Sorceress's idea of a new little brick home for your skull? That'd suit me. Even Marguerite has a good idea, now and again..." She looked imploringly at Finn and George.

The Challengers looked at one another, seemed to transmit telepathic thoughts, and then, both stepped away for a brief conference. When they returned, hand-in-hand, they agreed, thanking Marguerite for her tactful idea and Veronica for being willing to accept it.

"Vee, I'm sorry; I'm just so danged tired that I lost my temper. I understand why you feel as you do. Sure, if you'll let us stash that thing in a sturdy box tonight here in the lab, we'll build it a new home tomorrow." Finn was drained, but delighted that what had begun to get nasty had ended well.

She lifted the skull and looked at the base, the area just beyond the foramen magnum, noticing a mark incised into the quartz. "What the hell is this?" she queried. "Has anyone noticed this before?" She showed the others what she meant.

They looked with a flashlight, to bring out the mark more clearly. Marguerite shivered.

"I don't know just what that says," she managed, "but it's partly in a language that I don't know, and I sense that it isn't of this Earth. The symbol beside that one is very ancient, before the Aztec formed a nation. I think it's from Teohuatican, and the idea seems to be that whoever made this skull gave it to the Indians there. The Teohuatican symbol is a glyph for "powerful gift". This may have been left with priests in central Mexico at least 800 years ago. My guess is that the Aztecs found and used it, and that's how it got into the hands of the Tecamaya. What we still don't know is how Xu'ac got it from them! This adventure may not be finished. We have to seek what meaning we can of this thing."

All agreed to leave the skull in a strong wooden box on a high shelf in the lab, facing toward the wall, and go to bed. Tomorrow. it would find a new home.

As they left the lab, Veronica pulled Finn aside and asked, "Were you bluffing, or would you really leave here over that skull, if Marguerite hadn't defused the situation with her commonsense suggestion?"

Finn shrugged, uncomfortable. "I spoke in haste, Vee. I said that I'm sorry. I don't want to leave, and I'm glad that we settled that. I'm just feeling stupid that I didn't suggest what M. did, in the first place. I guess that if it had come to that, I'd do whatever George decided. But I'm becoming a scientist, myself, and not just because the man I love is one. This stuff gets fascinating when it gets under your skin. I genuinely think we need to study that skull. But I value you, too. I'm loyal to my man, and he's smarter than both of us put together. I'm pretty sure that he'd have come up with the same idea that Marguerite did. Sometimes, I let my temper run ahead of my mind. Am I forgiven?" She looked pleadingly at her friend.

"Oh, Finn...what a stupid thing we almost did." Veronica pulled her pal to her, and hugged her warmly. "Maybe Marguerite is right: blondes need to consult with brunettes before making important decisions." Both laughed the tension fading.

They left the lab, heading back to their own rooms, Finn holding both Veronica's and Challenger's hands, trying to convey to each with her eyes that she loved both.

Marguerite followed, turning out the light.

"It's a bloody fine thing you two have me," she declared. "Now, I'm going upstairs and I'm telling Roxton how valuable I am to tranquility around this place, and what a wonderful time he owes me in bed tonight for my inspired intercession." And she did look rather smug, thought Challenger, who glanced back at her.

Veronica walked into her room to find Ned waiting.

"So, how did it go?" he asked. Did Challenger kick up a fuss?"

"We worked things out," she answered. "Finn, not George, jumped on me for a while, but before we got to the point that anyone said anything that would be hard to take back, Marguerite, of all people, walked in and got us to act like adults. I'm glad. I love Finn like she was my own blood, and I can't possibly forget that it was her who joined you in getting me out of Cuauhtémoc's clutches. I should have realized that she would come to George's defense if she felt he was being disrespected or threatened. She's his protector and guard bitch: those two worship one another. With her, he doesn't need a watchdog! Anyway," Veronica concluded, "we decided to build a little brick house for the Skull tomorrow, so that was that. For once, Marguerite poured water, not oil, on the fire."

"So, she continued, "what have you been doing?"

"Waiting for you, of course, "Ned answered. He held up the brief loincloth that he'd carefully salvaged when she'd changed out of it on the trail. "Why don't you slip into this and make me a very happy man tonight?"

"Oh, Ned! That damned thing! Why do men have to be so 'visual'? Can you imagine how I felt being forced to wear that little thing, being bound like some bimbo displayed in a slave market? What IS it with men and skimpy clothes for girls?! Is that all you think of when it comes to women?"

"Nope," Ned allowed. "But we are very 'visual'. Anyway, do you mean to tell me that you didn't select this to wear with me in mind? You must have known that I'd be along to rescue you. This outfit just made you all the more irresistible. Ask Finn: I wanted to run right down and grab you as soon as I saw you in it. Of course, I'd probably want that, anyway, but this was sure the icing on the cake."

"Actually, I did sort of select it, but only because Marguerite and the girls from the harem all agreed that it looked better on me than the other things they brought. By the way, she personally selected that thing that she wore. It did set her off well, and she was even a little vain about it. But you know Marguerite...Ned, would it really mean a lot to you if I model this, this, tiny little whatever-it-is?"

"You know it, Baby," he beamed. "You have no idea how hot you looked in that."

"Well, maybe, sometimes, if it thrills you that much...Let me change next door."

In a few minutes, the loincloth on, her hair brushed out and her face washed, she sauntered in, trying to saunter like Finn when she pretended that Challenger hadn't seen her, but when she knew very well that he had and was watching every move she made. Veronica had spied on them them once, when Finn had on only a black lace-trimmed thong, pretending to look for some papers in the lab while asking George casually what he wanted for dinner. Veronica had been transfixed, watching her best friend "work" her man until he shut down whatever he was doing, and led her to the big couch at the north end of the lab. Veronica had had the decency to slip away unnoticed at that point, but she knew from Finn's squeals what was going on, and she had blushed deeply, wondering if she could ever be so brash in seducing a man. Evidently I can, she thought, feeling a wave of pride and feminine satisfaction as she registered the way that Ned was looking at her. I could maybe get to like this. She blushed, making Ned grin even more widely.

He motioned to her to turn and to walk around the room, and she did, feeling ridiculous, but also feeling very desired. She felt a warm glow begin in her loins, and remembered how wearing the sexy panties that the girls made after Finn's arrival had made her feel when she'd begun wearing them under her brief leather skirt. When she had on a nice pair of those and was around Ned, something in her responded, and she wanted him to take her in his arms and tell her how desirable she was. No wonder Finn struts around like this when no one is home, she decided. This is sort of nice, knowing that Ned can't take his eyes off me. Good thing there isn't a baseball game going on downstairs right now, though. I'm not sure any woman, even naked, could hold his interest, in that case.

"So," she demanded, "Do I look 'hot' or just silly?" She grinned lustily at him, feeling a rising desire.

Ned crooked a finger and when she was near enough, he pulled her onto the bed and whispered into her ear just how she looked and how much it meant to him to see her this way, and then he told her what he meant to do to her to show her how aroused she had made him and how much he appreciated that.

Veronica blushed from the roots of her hair to her toenails, but didn't resist when he drew her into bed, examined the waistband of the loincloth so not to tear anything, and stripped her as naked as she'd been the instant of her birth. He began kissing her, moving from her lips and her eyelids to other, very personal areas, until Veronica felt herself flush scarlet (in her mind, anyway) and begin to respond as she had only dreamed that she could. Her self sufficiency was swept away and she became fully a woman in the hands of her man, surrendering herself totally to his ministrations, accompanied by what he whispered to her of his love and his pleasure in knowing her as his mate. Ned really had a way with words, she realized, glowing at some of what he said, and blushing at the rest.

So, this is what it means to be a woman in heat, she decided, as Ned's tongue tickled a particularly vulnerable portion of her neck, and she shuddered with a spasm of pure, raw, pleasure. Even Ducart didn't get to me like this, she realized, and remembered Finn's little lesson with the bananas. Well, she decided, no time like the present!

"Ned," she managed to murmur. "Remember when Finn was teaching us girls to do what she was, uh, teaching us, with those bananas? I told you, remember?"

"No," he said, "All I remember is how you looked walking out in that loincloth in Xochilenque and how it stopped my heart. Okay, hell, yes, I remember what she taught you. No man is going to forget that. Why? Want to show me how much attention you paid to her lessons?" He grinned, bold, male, no longer the shy Ned who'd blushed when he saw Finn perch on Challenger's lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world, or the way that Roxton kissed Marguerite when they thought no one was watching. Ned, Ned, shy little boy no longer...

"You'll have to help me," she murmured. "Tell me if I use too much pressure or lick the wrong way. Here goes..." And she slid off him, knelt between his legs, and applied herself to his needs. And Ned, although making minor suggestions from time to time, had nary a complaint until he pulled her back onto him and they joined, moving together in sensuous rhythm until she cried out, helpless to restrain herself. Oh, no! she screamed mentally. What if the others heard that? Then, she decided that she didn't care, and told Ned that he had just made her a very happy woman, and that if it took wearing that ocelot loincloth to get this from him, she would make another and wear those revealing outfits whenever he asked! Veronica realized that she had just stepped out of her old self, and she rather liked this new, wanton side of her persona. Me, jungle girl and passionate houri par excellence, she thought, as she snuggled next to her man and told him dreamily that she was probably the happiest woman on the Plateau that night.

"Just on the Plateau?" Ned leered. "Come here again, Honey. By the time I'm done with you tonight, you're going to be the happiest woman on the whole planet!" And, in time, she decided that he might just make good on that boast...

Challenger and Finn walked into their room, stashed their remaining gear not brought up earlier, and got ready to settle in for the night.

Finn sat on the bed and stuck out her legs for George to pull off her boots, an endearing tradition for the couple. Finn thought it was sweet.

Her boots off, she unbuckled her gun belt, reached for George's, and took the guns to the nightstands on each side of their bed. Her Smith & Wesson went on the left nightstand, her side of the bed, his Colt on the right. If they had to roll out of bed during an emergency, each would get out on opposite sides, ready to engage targets from any angle, working smoothly together as they'd planned. At least one would hopefully have the bed as cover. The rub is that Finn often crawled over to be in front of George, so they could fit together with his front to her back. She loved getting as close as she could, then squirming against him until she was comfortable before going to sleep.

George pulled off his boots, scratched an itching foot, and groaned. "This has been SOME day," he opined. "I am deliciously glad to be home. How sweet it is. And I must say, I am glad that Xma'Klee let us have that skull without argument. I feel that we are the logical custodians of such an item, and I think I am being objective, although certainly self-interested. By the way, Darling, thank you for standing up to Veronica, although I must say that I am delighted that Marguerite showed up when she did. I would have made the same suggestion that she did, but perhaps it was best to let that discussion remain among you ladies. There are times when it is best that a man not intrude on tender territory." He chuckled.

"Wise guy," said Finn, but she was grinning, knowing full well how self conscious he had been in that setting. "Thank God all's well now, though. What about putting the skull's new house behind that old stump just southwest of the generator? It would still be protected by the fence, and we wouldn't have to walk far for it when we bring it into the lab." A thought struck her. "Oh, hell, George! Do you think Vee will make a scene when we bring it in for research, just for a few hours?"

He reflected, obviously surprised and troubled. "An excellent question, Nicole. I suppose we had better catch Veronica in a good mood tomorrow and ask. If she has time to think about it, she may be less inclined to panic and say no. We should be hard put to study it in detail unless we can bring it in when needed. Damn! Well, tonight was not the time to have addressed that issue, when words were heated. I'll speak with Ned tomorrow, and see what he thinks. Perhaps he can make her see reason."

"Don't worry, Lover," Finn said. "If she freaks out, we'll think of something. At least, we have the thing. Uh, George? How much energy do you have? I'm beat. If you want to fool around, I hope you're into necrophilia, because I'm about as lively now as a corpse. "

He laughed, greatly amused by the analogy and her use of the word "necrophilia". Finn's vocabulary had broadened considerably since her arrival in the Treehouse, and she had a wicked way of using new words in a manner that left him surprised to find that she knew them and laughing at her application. It was one of her charms that she knew just how to make him laugh when deploying a new word or term, and he suspected that she deliberately looked for ways to show off her knowledge when it would surprise and please him. He had several times caught her blushing and smiling when doing this, and he loved her all the more for this waggish quality. She had also become quite skilled with puns; often choosing to make a particularly good one just as Marguerite sipped her coffee, making her laugh while her mouth was full. Even Roxton had noticed, although he was careful to conceal his smirks from his beloved...

Finn stripped and hung up her black shorts and cropped top. She had showered and changed after returning, so they were fresh for tomorrow. She gave Challenger a coy smile, looked directly into his eyes, bent her right leg and stood straight on the left. She licked her lips lasciviously, and unclipped her bra, using both hands behind her. With the bra off, she held it at arm's length and walked over and dropped it on a chair near their bed. Challenger had watched this performance, smiling and shaking his head in amusement.

Now wearing only black bikini panties, she walked over and helped her mate undress, hanging up his clothes and setting his boots by hers.

A few minutes later, the light off, they cuddled and discussed the trip and all that had happened. They returned to the subject of the crystal skull, debating what it could be, and how the mark had been incised into the base.

"My guess is they used a strong laser," Finn ventured, then had to explain what a laser was. This greatly intrigued Challenger, who began speculating on whether they could make a synthetic ruby and find a suitable power source. The possibilities of a laser for Treehouse defense alone were immense, and he was fascinated with the surgical implications.

Tired, he said that he'd file this in his list of things to devise, and they decided to call it a night.

Finn agreed, hardly able to keep her eyes open. "Do you think I upset Vee too much when I mouthed off to her?" she worried. "I just blew my cool when she took that attitude, without even being tactful and discussing alternatives to us keeping the skull here."

Challenger pulled her to him, kissing her forehead. "No, Finn, I think she was sincere when she hugged you and made up. You girls have an enormous affection for one another, and I'm sure that she's cooled off by now. As she said, sisters fight. She realized that. I don't think it had occurred to her that we might move out. Frankly, my dear, it had not occurred to ME that we might! Next time, let's excuse ourselves and hold a quick conference if anything that important arises. With our friends here, we can nearly always reach a suitable compromise, I think. We are very fortunate to have the group that we do. Set the alarm for seven, please. I do want to get an early start on the skull's new home, and still accomplish other goals during the day. How does it feel to be rich, by the way? Our share of that treasure will finance us for years, in luxury, if we ever get off this Plateau!"

"It means a lot to have that security," she admitted, "especially to me. I showed up here penniless. I haven't even graduated from high school, although I think I have at least that level of education, thanks to you. Maybe the best news about that treasure for you, though, is that I have enough not to need you financially anymore, but I feel closer to you than ever. Must be love, George. I guess that you're stuck with me for as long as you'll have me." She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Let me reflect on how long I'll keep you," he joked. "Does eternity seem too long?"

"That sounds about right," she conceded. "You're from the past; I'm from the future. We should make a swell couple for all time. Shake, partner?" She offered her hand, which he gravely shook, then kissed. Finn snickered. "I love you, Genius."

"That seems perfectly logical," he acknowledged." A woman of superior beauty and intellect, like you, would seemingly be attracted to a fellow of my admitted brilliance and genetic superiority."

In the dark, she sensed, rather than saw, his smile, and teased, "You forgot to mention your unparalled modesty, Lover."

"Ummm. So I did," he admitted. "Good night, Darling. Sweet dreams. If it helps you to sleep better, please know that I adore you beyond even Ned's ability to describe the sensation. I am a lucky man, Finn. With you, I experience paradise while yet on Earth."

Then, being exhausted from their perils, exertions, and travails of the trail, the eternal couple embraced and drifted off to sleep in one another's arms.

In the lab below, within the sturdy wooden box in which it was encased, the Crystal Skull sat passively, a solid block of quartz. Then, silently, the eyes flared, incandescent, green, blue, and orange. Then, had anyone been there to see, the image of Xu'ac burning in golden flames briefly appeared within the sockets, and the carefully incised teeth appeared to grin obscenely in a transient grimace of satisfaction. The glow faded, and the Skull, too, slept, its secrets secure against the day when it might influence events beyond all expectations of its new guardians. Whether its influence would be for good or evil, only time could tell.

In the Challengers' room, the clock softly ticked, measuring the passing hours ...

The End