The next day was even warmer than the one before, and perspiration trickled down Cassie's back, soaking into her tanktop as she wandered through the Alcântara district of Lisbon, sticking close to the riverfront. Taking a bite of the apple she had bought from a market that morning with the leftover money from yesterday's volunteer work, she savored the taste while reflecting that she had better find some more work soon, or she was going to be getting hungry.
The last year had been quite the journey, certainly far different from anything she had done before. After finding Avalon along with Ian Foster, Cassie had been in a bit of a swirl about where to go in life, her swashbuckling race against Amelia Adler to find the Sampo having turned her expectations for her life upside down more than she had imagined. Though she was aware, ever since that day when she was thirteen and sneaked a peek in her parents' closet, that she was related to, and friends with, treasure hunters, the possibility of her becoming one herself had remained comfortably abstract until that day in Prague when she got that note and met Charlie Cutter. And even since then, she grappled with uncertainty as to whether she wanted to be a treasure hunter- at least yet.
Finishing her apple, she tossed the core into some bushes, wiped her hands on her shorts, and stuffed them into her pockets as she passed under the shadow of the 25 de Abril bridge. A couple pedestrians hurried by, and Cass murmured a polite "Bom dia" to them before turning off down to the docks.
In the aftermath of that adventure she had briefly considered college, before deciding that it wasn't for her. Some people she knew had said she was lazy, or maybe lacked ambition, but she chalked it up to bad influences. After all, the only people in her "family" (which was a term that was used loosely by her parents and herself to describe everyone from Sam, to Sully, to Chloe, to Cutter) that had properly finished college was her mom, and possibly Charlie. Instead, she spent most of the two years immediately following her adventure really digging in to helping with her parents' business: lending a hand on digs, staying up late hours with her dad doing research, and even occasionally helping out with the filming, photography, and editing on her mother's end. Then, at the end of last summer, she had popped the news to her parents that she wanted to do some traveling on her own.
She had been surprised at how nervous she was about telling them, as if they would try to stop her. When she did, they had both looked at her with raised eyebrows across the table from her.
"You wanna do the 'travel across Europe with nothing but a backpack and the clothes on your back' thing?" her dad had asked. "I thought that was mostly for hipsters in hemp pants that play guitar on the streets for money. Ow!" Her dad jumped as her mom elbowed him in the ribs.
As he rubbed his side with a wounded look, Cassie had answered with a smile, "Well, I can always buy some hemp clothes if you want. And I may not play guitar, but I can probably do drawings for money- maybe caricatures or something."
Her dad had chuckled, then leaned across the table with a more serious look. "You're not doing this because it's how I started out my life in treasure hunting, right? Cause I'll be the first to say that I might not be the best example in everything. There are better ways to-"
"No, this isn't about that, dad," she had insisted. "This is for me. I think I need this, in order to know what to do from here."
Even then, she hadn't been entirely sure what she meant by that. But now, standing on the docks in Lisbon nearly a year later and looking out over the river, she might be even less sure what her answer would look like when it came. One thing she was still certain of, though, was that she was on the right path to find it.
Squinting against the glare coming off the water and watching a small fishing trawler pass, she suddenly became sure of something else as well: it was time to move on from Lisbon. She hooked a thumb through the strap of her messenger bag and started making plans.
With a leap, a grunt, and a little extra boost from her arms to clear the parapet, Cassie vaulted the gap from one rooftop to the slightly higher one next to it. Landing in a crouch, she sprung lightly to her feet and trotted over to a little nook by the ventilation duct, reached into the narrow space there, and pulled out her battered old army surplus backpack. Slipping one arm through the strap, she began to walk back toward the edge of the roof.
As she swung one leg over in preparation to climb down, she was suddenly stopped by the sound of her phone ringing. While straddling the parapet, she slipped the phone from her pocket and glanced at the caller ID, her eyes widening when she saw the name on the screen. "Foster?" she murmured. That was a shock- contact with Ian since the Avalon adventure had been infrequent at best. Sure, they talked every now and then, but the times they had actually spoken in the last two years she could easily count on one hand. More often, they might exchange a couple text messages. A couple times, immediately following the last adventure, Foster had phoned up asking if she wanted to help with another job he had, but Cassie had always turned him down, explaining that she was pretty caught up with her parents' ventures. After a few times of that, he had quit offering.
All that said, she was certainly not expecting to see his name show up on the screen that day. Realizing that she had better answer before the call went to voicemail, she finally hit the accept call button. "Hello?" she said tentatively.
"Cassie... it's been a while."His voice seemed to exude a cool, collected air, and Cassie felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Sure has!" she replied, keeping her voice friendly but not overly enthusiastic. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Not wasting any time, it seemed, Ian cut right to business. "Where are you?"
"Hmmm..." A playful smirk spread across Cassie's face as she considered how to answer. Foster's approach to life was quite a bit more stoic and businesslike than Cassie's more devil-may-care attitude (no doubt inherited from her dad), and on the occasion she did talk to him, she liked to find ways to poke fun at him for it. "You mean, where am I at physically, mentally, emotionally... is this a trick question?"
She could almost hear Ian rolling his eyes on the other end. "Like: 'where are you currently located, on this planet, in relation to political states' where are you. I know you're traveling these days."
"I'm in Portugal still," Cassie answered. "Lisbon specifically, but I was just thinking about heading out." Her eyes wandered down to the alley below her and she suddenly realized that there was a random pedestrian standing on the ground and gawking up at her. Not keen on getting reported to local authorities for trespassing, she hopped off the parapet back onto the roof and began pacing away from the edge and from prying eyes. "Why, what's up?"
"I just wondered if you'd like to come for a visit," Ian said.
"You're in Lisbon?"
"Yeah," he answered, his tone suddenly more breezy than usual. "I'm in town and thought I'd extend the offer."
Cassie frowned, skeptical of his sudden brightness. "You've got a job," she posited.
He chuckled. "Was it that obvious?"
Smirking at her instincts being proven right, Cass turned on her heel and began walking back across the roof. "For someone who can clean up a poker table, you sure are capable of some bad acting."
Another chuckle, then Foster elaborated, "Just a little thing, but it'll pay well. Just thought you might need the cash, and since you can't use the excuse that you're helping with your parents' show anymore..."
It was Cassie's turn to laugh now. "Low blow, Foster." She swiveled around again, basking for a moment in the pleasantry of friendly conversation and looking out toward the sea as she considered. Maybe this was it- her chance to move on. After all, she had just been thinking she needed a change. She made her decision.
"Where do you want to meet?" she asked with a smile.
"I'll send an address. Come on over and we'll talk."
Cassie gazed up at the impressive home in front of her, with its creamy white stucco walls embellished with dozens of architectural sculptures, several wrought iron balconies, and azulejos with geometric designs on either side of a main entrance that was flanked by two Corinthian columns. These columns, in turn, had statues of what appeared to be Neptune and Tellus, one on each side, the bronze of the figures oxidized to a deep teal and streaked with age. She checked the text from Ian again, then swallowed involuntarily.
"Here goes nothing," she muttered, then ascended the stone steps and rapped on the door. Fidgeting nervously while she waited for what seemed like an eternity, she finally heard what sounded like footsteps coming hurriedly down a set of stairs, and a moment later the door was flung open. Ian Foster's smiling face met her, his eager brown eyes sparkling as he gave her a visual once over.
"Cassie!" he said warmly, extending a hand which she dutifully shook. "About time we met again!"
She smiled back, a genuine warmth coming over her at seeing her one-time partner and friend. "Well- I guess you know who's been the holdup on that, so I don't need to remind you," she joked, and he laughed with her. Suddenly feeling self-conscious next to Ian's smart-but-casual navy blue polo and khaki pants, she gestured to herself and added, "Sorry I'm not any more presentable. I guess I've been trying out the vagrancy thing for a bit, so my wardrobe is a bit limited." For laughs, she gave an exaggerated sniff and then screwed up her face in distaste. "Hopefully I don't smell too bad, either."
Foster shrugged and ran a hand through his curly brown locks. "You look like a treasure hunter- and still smell better than a good half of them- so I wouldn't worry about it. Come on in."
She followed him as he led the way through the mission-style residence, with plastered walls and minimalist decor, and decided to catch up with him as they ascended the dark oak staircase.
"Sooo... find any lost cities since I saw you last?" Cassie asked, inspecting a decorative wrought iron panel on the wall as she passed it.
He scoffed. "No such luck. Been mostly doing small stuff- here a little, there a little." He reached the top of the stairs and glanced over his shoulder as he started down the hall. "Just enough income to save me from having to throw in the towel and get an honest job."
"What's this one about?" she inquired.
"My client has been on the trail of a piece from the Spanish conquest of Central America in the early sixteenth century, but has hit a bit of a roadblock. She's hoping we can help."
Cassie's brow furrowed at the word "she". She hadn't pictured this person being a woman. Hopefully it wasn't the Amelia Adler type. Deciding not to voice that thought, she settled on a joke instead. "Central America? Gosh, I was hoping for someplace cool to beat the heat. You know- Russia, Sweden, Canada... Something like that."
Ian stopped
in front of a door and turned to her with a smirk. "We hit the cool countries last time, remember? I was thinking we'd switch it up- keep things fresh." He pushed the door open for her and gestured for Cassie to enter.
Cassie stepped inside a study that was cased floor to ceiling in wood. It was small enough to be cozy, but had high enough ceilings to remind you that this was a wealthy person's house, and despite the potentially overwhelming amount of oak present it still felt bright inside due to the sunlight that streamed through a large casement window that overlooked the street and the golden-colored stain that had been used on the wood. A simple, boxy layout of the room helped add to its homey feel. The wall to Cassie's right housed towering cases filled with books as well as a portrait that she recognized as being of Hernan Cortes, the left was dominated by a brick fireplace which currently sat cold and idle in the summer heat. The wall straight ahead with the window in it had a large wooden desk with a young woman bent over it, her back to Cassie as she wrote on something. The door shut behind Ian with a thud, and the girl straightened up, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder with what seemed to be a well-practiced flick of her wrist. She turned to face them, dressed in a white button-down shirt that contrasted with her tanned skin visible through the broad collar, which was opened wide, and paired with casual black pants, and her pleasant features arranged themselves into a alluring smile as she saw the new arrival. "Hello, Cassie."
Cassie's eyes went wide at seeing the same girl who had chased her across the rooftops just a couple days earlier. "What the-" she started to say. She remembered the girl asking her what her name was and her insistence that she get away just before the creepy tattooed guy showed up, and suddenly the pieces fell into place. She looked at Foster with disbelief. "That's how you knew I was here! What's going on- who the hell are you?" Cassie stammered, looking accusingly at the young woman.
"My name is Solange Rodriguez," the young woman said, stepping forward and offering a well-manicured hand to shake. Cassie shot another skeptical glance at Ian but shook her hand in spite of it. "Foster and I have been working together for a few months now, and when you and I bumped into each other the other day he suggested that we invite you to join us. I hear you have quite the head for history, as well as some experience in the field." She stepped back and crossed her arms. "We could use some help with certain aspects of our search."
Cassie still looked uncertain. "O-kay." She looked haltingly between the two other people in the room and frowned. Something was eating at her, but she hadn't figured out what yet. All she knew was that her initial good mood about seeing her old friend Foster again had been spoiled, and she was pretty sure it was this girl's fault. But, this is for Ian, she reminded herself. That, and it's also probably my ticket out of here.
Finally she sighed and said, "I can do my best... I'm not as good as my dad or anything, but I'll give it a try."
Solange's Prussian blue eyes sparkled as she stood immediately straighter and exclaimed in her rich accent, "Fantastic! Foster, dear, how much did you tell her so far?"
Cassie quirked an eyebrow at the girl's affectionate manner of relating to Ian, but didn't say anything. "Nothing yet," Foster replied, crossing his arms as he half-sat on the arm of a leather sofa. "Just start from the beginning."
"My father was a historian," Solange began, her eyes alive and passionate. "He spent his life searching for an artifact which he believed was once in the possession of Hernan Cortes." Cassie's eyes flicked over to the portrait on the wall and then back. Solange continued, "Cortes is well known as one of the great conquistadors who were responsible for the Spanish settlement of the New World. He aided with the conquest of Cuba, as well as being largely responsible for conquering Mexico- but I'm sure you know all that." She paused and inhaled deeply. "Famously, he captured Moctezuma II at Tenochtitlán, and it was from him that Cortes obtained a flawless obsidian mirror with extraordinary power."
Cassie's cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "A smoking mirror," she stated.
Solange smiled at her. "Very good. Yes, a smoking mirror used in divination and in the worship of Tezcatlipoca- god of death, jaguars, and the night. He was..." the girl paused as if searching for words. "...the dark counterpart of his brother, the feathered serpent-god Quetzalcoatl, who ruled over the golden city of Tollan in peace until he was deceived by his brother Tezcatlipoca, and forced into exile. Do you know the legend of the fifth sun?"
Shrugging, Cassie said, "I think so, but humor me."
"Each 'sun', or world, was inaugurated by one of the Aztec gods sacrificing themselves. In the legend, Tezcatlipoca started the first sun. He was succeeded by Quetzalcoatl, only to later overthrow the serpent god himself and bring an end to the second sun. Quetzalcoatl, in turn, would later also destroy another world to make way for a new sun. Altogether, the two rival gods were responsible for the rebirth of multiple worlds." Solange brushed the bangs from her face and continued, "It is a well documented fact that the Aztecs thought Cortes was an embodiment of Quetzalcoatl, and it was my father's belief that they led him to the city of Tollan, where he gained tremendous power from the smoking mirror."
Cassie's mind was racing ahead to connect the dots as she listened."So Cortes found the lost city of the Toltecs, and wanted this 'smoking mirror' to aid in his conquest of Mexico because it had the power to..." she trailed off, unsure of what she was about to say.
Solange locked eyes with Cassie, her blue eyes intensifying in their gaze. "The power to destroy and remake the world. To summon the power of the gods themselves."
Cassie looked skeptical. She scoffed, then laughed outright. "You don't actually believe that, right? That this is some sort of apocalypse-inducing relic?"
"I'm surprised that the woman who discovered Avalon doesn't."
Bobbing her head thoughtfully, Cassie relinquished. "Touche'." She gestured for Solange to continue. "Go on, I'm listening."
Ian left his seat on the arm of the couch just long enough to pour himself a glass of whiskey, then sat down again and began drinking it.
"Cortes would go on to become quite powerful in New Spain," Solange continued, "but over time he fell under the suspicion of the Crown and developed a bitter rivalry with Diego Velazquez, the governor of Cuba. Fearing that Velazquez and King Charles were jealous of his discovery and wanted to use the power for their own ends, Cortes would destroy all evidence of his path to Tollan and the mirror, save for a map which he divided into twelve pieces and gave to his ambassadors- the Twelve Apostles of Mexico- for safekeeping. It is this map that my father spent his life trying to locate, and the reason why I needed this coin." She held up the bronze coin she had chased Cassie down for. "Tell me," she said carefully, "what made you go after this coin? Is it just that thieving is how you survive?"
In other circles, that question would probably have been offensive, but given her current company Cass didn't even bat an eye. "No. I've actually been staying pretty clean. Here and there I make an exception, at least to practice my skills- if you want to call them that- but for the most part..." She trailed off and studied the coin in Solange's hands, considering what it was that made her feel like that particular item merited a little extralegal activity. It was a fairly average looking Spanish real, but looking at it now she realized that the coat of arms it bore was that of Cortes himself, though she hadn't had the time to notice that when she grabbed it from the market. Shrugging, she responded, "I dunno, honestly. It just struck me as significant, somehow." Her expression changing to scorn, she added, "But it's clearly a fake. I mean you see how light it is- it's not even solid."
Nodding, the young brunette across from her said, "Your instincts are good, if your follow-through lacking. Would you like to see what makes it so lightweight?"
"'Follow through'?" Cassie said skeptically. "I mean, to be fair, you did have a gun on me, so 'lacking' is kind of a relative term," her mutterings trailed off as Solange turned the coin on edge on the top of her desk, pinning it with the edge of a chisel before abruptly bringing a hammer down on it. Cassie's eyes bugged out and she stared in shock as the coin split into two clean halves, revealing a scrap of folded paper that was yellowed with age. The brunette carefully unfolded the paper and held it up for her to see.
"Oh my god..." Cassie breathed, unable to take her eyes off the faded ink lines drawn on it. A section roughly six inches square, with one clean edge that was obviously part of the border of the full map and the other three edges jagged and uneven, the little snapshot of the map showed what looked to be a jungle of some type. She made a noise of disgust at herself. "I can't believe I was so stupid!"
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Solange said. "There's a reason this hasn't been found yet. Obviously no one else who's held this coin figured it out either. Besides, it stayed in good hands, whether you or I had it. The real problem would have been if it had fallen to them."
Them. Cassie's eyes narrowed. "The creepy guy with the tattoos- who was that anyway?"
"His name's Tristan," Ian spoke up, and drained the last of his whiskey. Setting the tumbler on an end table, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "He's the leader of a sort of militant cult group known alternately as the 'Ocelotl' -or jaguar- cult, or as 'Noche Triste', after the Aztec victory over the Spanish." He looked at Cassie meaningfully. "We haven't had too many run-ins with them yet, but these guys mean business."
"They murdered my father," Solange interjected, her eyes flashing with anger. "They want the mirror, and they knew that he was on the trail, so they stabbed him on the streets of Barcelona." She paced and clenched her fist in anger for a moment, and Cassie couldn't help feeling compassion for her. Relaxing her fingers back into an open palm, she continued, "They thought that he was dead, but after they left he had just enough strength to scribble a note, which was given to me along with his research, which was mine according to his will." Turning to the desk, she fished around in the pages of a notebook for a moment and then produced a scrap of paper, which she handed to Cassie. "We haven't been able to figure out what it means- it's one of the things we were hoping you'd help with."
Cassie took the note with something like reverence, feeling the weight of the last breath efforts of Solange's deceased father in her hands. Carefully unfolding it, she scanned the note. From the decorative border and a few fragments of printed Spanish in one corner, she guessed it was written on hotel stationery. It was torn at an angle across the middle of the sheet, and the words "H.M. tiene la moneda, 7 de junio, 11:43" scrawled across it. At the bottom, separate from the rest of the writing, was scratched- "Lucas 17:32".
"H.M. has the coin... 7th of June, 11:43... Luke 17:32," Cassie carefully translated. She glanced up at Ian, then Solange. "I'm sure you looked up the scripture verse already."
"'Remember Lot's wife'," Foster quoted offhandedly.
"We've looked up the initials H.M., paired them with the name Lot, Luke... We've tried to rearrange the numbers into an address- everything we can think of," Solange elaborated. "Clearly he was meeting up with someone, but we can't figure out who."
Deep in thought, Cassie moved in front of the portrait of Cortes and stared at it. The conquistador's face was stern, drawn, and austere, glowering off the canvas like a man cheated of his fortune. Cassie's brow crinkled. She had the feeling she was missing something important, but couldn't think what it was. "How many of those coins do you have?" she asked finally.
"My father located nine of them before he was killed," the brunette girl supplied. "Since then the trail has been cold until Ian turned up one that is going on display in a wealthy collector's mansion in Madrid in a week and a half. Then I spotted this one in the booth, which means that we now have the location of eleven of the twelve."
"All but the one 'H.M.' has," Cassie mused.
"Exactly."
Ian stood and crossed the room. "We've got to move fast though, Cassie. Our man Tristan is a real devil, and I think we're really on borrowed time here. It won't be long before they catch up to us, and they're determined to get the map from us any way possible."
"He won't," Cassie said confidently, turning from the portrait. "We'll figure this out- together." Looking at Solange, she asked, "Is this your house?"
Solange nodded.
"Mind if I stay the night?"
Solange shook her head quickly. "No no, stay- you're working with us now." She began bustling around, collecting a few things before heading for the door. "I'll get the spare room ready. Hang on to that note and see what you can make of it."
Cassie watched her leave, the rich oak doors shutting heavily in her wake, and the study suddenly fell quiet. In the ensuing silence, her brain began working, churning, not over the enigmatic message or the wealth of information that had just been dumped on her, but on a subject that had not been broached yet. She was mulling over the one question she was dying to ask, the elephant in the room that had been bugging her since she arrived at the Rodriguez house. The corner of her mouth quirked up as she reasoned with herself that it really did need to be said- at least so they could all know where they stood.
"It looks better on leather."
Her head snapped around, caught off guard by Ian's sudden interjection and not even realizing how long the silence had drawn out for. "Hmm?"
With a jut of his chin and a wave of his hand, Ian gestured to the ouroboros ring around her neck. "The ring- it looks better on a leather cord than on a shoestring."
Ohhh. Cassie chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks for that." She let the thought hang for a moment, then inhaled deeply and took the plunge. She was never much for awkward conversations like these. "Sooo... you and Solange. How long you been together?"
Foster looked at her quizzically, then answered, "I've been working with her on this the last four months- give or take a couple weeks. But as far as together like that..." He shrugged. "We're not."
"Oh!" Cassie was surprised. "I see. She just seemed pretty friendly to you, and... you know."
He scoffed and turned to the desk, plucking some sort of pastry off a plate on the corner. "No, she's just a little overly-inclined toward affectionate names for people. I think it's a Latin thing. I don't get involved with people I work with- it's bad practice. Don't worry about that."
"Who said I was worried?"
Cassie's last statement came out sounding more defensive than she intended, and she inwardly chided herself for her immaturity. Weird, she thought. It wasn't this awkward working with him last time. She frowned. They probably would get in a groove once the job got going. If there was one thing she had learned from working on her parents' show, it was that anytime there was a new collaboration or person on the team, there was always a period of getting the kinks worked out. That must be what was going on now , she thought. I'm sure it will get better in a few days.
Ian turned with a mouthful of pastry and looked at her. He chewed and swallowed, then answered, "I just didn't want you to think it was going to get in the way of professionalism, that's all."
Professionalism. Right. That's what I'm going for. Cassie chewed her lip and looked at the floor.
He deposited the rest of the pastry in his mouth and sucked the tip of his thumb clean, then brushed his hands together. "You've been living on the streets?"
Cassie shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I have. Almost a year, now."
"How have you been making a living, if not by stealing?" he asked.
Tossing her head to put her sandy blond locks over her shoulder, Cassie answered, "Mostly by finding people who are willing to pay for a little help. Sometimes it's painting, sometimes maintenance, salvage and diving, you name it."
He looked at her with interest. "Why did you decide to do it?" he questioned. "A journey of self-discovery?"
Cassie scrunched her face up in distaste and even stuck her tongue out a little. "Ugh. That sounds so cliche."
He smirked and leaned one shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not surprised you don't like that. What would you call it, then?"
She had never really tried to put a label on what she was doing so far, and it felt funny to consider it now. "I'd call it a journey of... not of self-discovery, just discovery. A journey of discovery." She nodded in affirmation, satisfied with her description.
Ian smiled, his chocolate eyes resting on her as he slipped one hand into his pocket. Cassie lifted her chin ever so slightly and returned his gaze, feeling suddenly emboldened. "That's something I think you may be over-qualified for," he said, his voice low.
Cassie narrowed her eyes, feeling a sudden tension that she wasn't sure what to attribute to. She turned away to grab her backpack. "Is there a computer I can use?" she asked. "I'd like to do some research tonight, see if I can turn up anything."
The tension in the room dissipated with something to set their minds to, and Ian shoved himself off the wall. "I'll get you mine," he said. "I've done a bit of research myself, and you're welcome to use it as a jumping off point. Or you could just can it all and start over."
Cassie thanked him and headed for the door. Just before it closed, she heard him call out behind her. "Cass?"
She paused, hand on the edge of the door. "Yeah?"
Ian scratched the back of his neck and looked toward the corner, like he didn't actually have a plan for what he was going to say when he stopped her. "Thanks for coming to help."
She smiled back at him. "Sure thing- Partner."
