THE LAST AZTEC

“The Mexican sun humbles us all, my friend,” said the driver, “Everyday the sun rises we are reminded who truly rules the land… and the sun must rise, muchacho! Don’t you forget it!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t forget anytime soon.”

The sun’s embrace certainly was harsh, even beneath the layers of SPF50. Daniel Abbott had never been south of the border before, he had never been anywhere before, so he wasn’t going to let the sun stop him from participating in his first archaeological dig.

He had just finished applying the latest coat of SPF on his face when the open-top jeep came to an abrupt stop.

“Why are we stopping?” He asked, looking through the dirt-caked windshield to see nothing in their way. They were stopped at the edge of the jungle, and the road clearly led onward under the canopy of trees.

“You walk now,” said the driver, matter-of-factly.

“You can’t be serious, we must be miles from the site.”

The driver’s face revealed no sympathy, he simply leaned over and opened the glove box allowing a dusty water bottle to tumble out onto the young archeologist’s lap.

“…Thanks,” said Daniel.

“Just follow the road.”

The Jeep created a dusty plume in its wake as it shrunk into the distance, leaving Daniel alone at the jungle’s edge. The inside of which was dark and ominous.

“Well,” he said to himself, “at least there will be some shade.”

He pulled the heavy strap of his toolkit over his shoulder and walked slowly into the jungle. The air immediately closed in around him, the moisture clinging to him like a shower curtain. Somehow it was hotter beneath the trees, so he made quick use of the water bottle. He cracked the seal and let the stale water coat his burning throat.

The jungle road was straight but treacherous. Fallen tree trunks and undergrowth had taken over most of what had been cleared for traffic and many times he found himself flat on his face after catching a root… until at long last, he came upon a clearing.

“Finally.”

Blinded by the afternoon sun, not to mention the dirt and sweat covering his lenses, he peeled his glasses off and wiped them with the bottom of his shirt. Once his eyes had adjusted, he saw a vast field stretching onward, its lush green grasses flecked with thousands of golden flowers. He knelt down and plucked a flower from the ground. Marigolds. A strange sight this deep into the jungle. He let the delicate flower fall from his hand and let his eye follow the golden-yellow trail towards a massive stone pyramid at the end of the clearing.

The temple.

The Marigold trail climbed up from the field and covered the entire stone surface, the yellow flowers glimmering in the sunlight. From afar it made the pyramid look like it was made of solid gold.

Could this be El Dorado? he thought with a smile.

Upon the golden temple, he could spot moving figures darting this way and that; his fellow archeologists busy at work. The temple had been discovered months earlier after a wildfire ravaged the area and the Mexican government had only now given approval for a single foreign archeologist to join the effort. To his delight, and amazement, Daniel’s name was chosen. 

A burst of excitement spurred him onward and soon he found himself at the base of the temple. The pyramid was topped with a large flat platform, no doubt an altar where ritual sacrifice had taken place centuries earlier. Beneath the platform housed a sealed chamber which was met by four stairways running down each side of the pyramid.

“Incredible,” Daniel heard himself say aloud.

“Dr. Abbott!” cried a voice from the steps above, “We’ve been wondering when you’d arrive!”

The voice came from a woman descending the stairway with an excited hop in her step. She reached the bottom with a smile painted from ear to ear, her hand stretched out eagerly to meet him. She was beautiful in every sense of the word and Daniel shook her hand gratefully.

“I’m sorry,” said Daniel, “but I think you have me at a disadvantage.”

“We spoke on the phone, remember? I’m Sofia Toxtle.”

“Oh Dr. Toxtle! I’m sorry! This memory of mine. Y’know, I can remember thousands of years of history but couldn’t tell you what I had for breakfast this morning.”

She let out a hearty laugh, “Come with me. My father is waiting for you.”

She led him up the steps to the temple chamber. There was an threshold carved into the stone and a room inside. The hum of a generator could be heard and a small lamp cast stark shadows from the centre of the room. Inside there stooped an older man, his nose and moustache were almost pressed against the wall examining markings left in the stone, tracing them with his fingers. He turned from his work when they passed in front of the lamplight.

“Sofia, my light!”

“Father, Dr. Abbott has arrived.”

“Abbott!” He exclaimed, clasping his hands together, “Dr. Abbott, I’m so pleased you could make it.”

“I’m sorry I’m late, Professor,” Daniel indicated the condition of his outfit, “I hadn’t expected the hike.”

“Ho!” chuckled the professor, “Yes, the locals are a very superstitious bunch.”

“Scared of Aztec curses,” said Sofia, smiling at Dan.

 “And their own shadows, if you ask me! Ho! Now come take a look at this, my boy!”

He waved Daniel over beside him, then pressed his finger against the wall. Daniel followed the finger to a small symbol he had never seen in all of his study. Aztec hieroglyphs bore a striking similarity to those of Ancient Egyptian but this symbol was neither. This symbol looked to be two men mirrored against each other, one weak and one strong. Beside the two men was a symbol of a tree with deep roots, and beside that a storm cloud and more symbols he’d never seen before.

“I don’t recognize these symbols. What are they?”

“I think you mean who are they,” said the Professor, “Sofia, show him.”

Sofia grabbed the lamp beside them and walked it back further away. As the lamp moved back, the angle of the light opened up against the wall and Daniel could see that the markings were actually part of a larger picture than spanned the length of the room. The symbol made what looked to be the face of a man, and judging by the headdress, royalty.

“Who is this?”

“Guatémoc,” said Sofia behind him.

“The last Aztec emperor?”

“Precisely. He is buried here,” said the Professor.

“Guatémoc? History says that he was buried in Guerrero... After he was executed by Cortés.”

“History is a funny thing, Dr. Abbott,” said the Professor, “It’s written by the victors and victors are rarely known for their honesty.”

Daniel looked back to Sofia whose smile was even bigger than before.

 “So… what are you saying?”

The professor stroked his moustache, “Well, you know Cortés took Guatémoc captive and tortured him for the secrets of the Aztec fortune.”

“Yes… but he gave him nothing, and Cortés hanged him for it.”

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s the story we’ve been told,” said Sofia, “Cortés’ version of history.”

“So what happened?” said Daniel.

“The remaining Aztec priesthood rescued the Emperor from Cortés and brought him North to this temple. Cortés continued south to Honduras.”

“This is unbelievable… I mean really, unbelievable.”

The professor pulled a pipe out from his pocket, stuffed it with a patch of tobacco and lit a match.

“When we chose your application, Dr. Abbott, I was hoping you’d be a little more open-minded.” He puffed the flame through the pipe and extinguished the match.

“This is all just so incredible. So… what happened to Guatémoc? Surely Cortés wouldn’t have left him alive.”

“Well,” said the Professor, “not all stories have happy endings.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, turning to see Sofia leaning against the opposite wall.

“Cortés won in the end,” she said, a sadness in her voice, “Guatémoc ultimately succumbed to the smallpox virus Cortés and his men brought with him from Europe. He was only 27.”

Daniel slumped where he stood, That’s the same age as I am, he thought to himself.

“So after all that, he still died? Geez, I have to say… that’s a little disappointing.”

“Don’t you get it?” said the professor, pulling the pipe from his lips, “Guatémoc never gave Cortés the location of the Aztec fortune… a fortune that has never been found.”

The two Toxtle’s faces turned from serious to excited, a twinkle shining in their eyes. Daniel looked around at the small room.

“You think the treasure is here?”

“We’re going to let the Emperor guide us,” said Sofia, turning to the mural, “He will show us the way.”

“Daniel,” said the Professor, “Will you help us?”

Daniel hesitated, taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose, then he smiled.

“Of course! Let’s do it!”

“Excelente!” The professor grabbed Daniel with both hands, “This is cause for celebration! Sofia! Get the tequila!”

Sofia went over to a satchel resting on a wooden stool in the corner of the room and dug out a bottle and some glasses. She poured a shot into each glass and handed one to her father and Daniel, leaving the last for herself. The professor held his glass high in the air.

“To history! As it was meant to be told!”

“To making history!” replied Daniel.

They clinked their glasses and Daniel downed his right away. The brown liquid burned his throat. It had a strange flavour, unlike any tequila he had ever tasted. He noticed that the two Toxtles set their drinks back down on the stool, untouched. His stomach then churned and the room began to bend around him.

Then all went black.

When he awoke, it was nighttime and a soft wind blew in his ears. The thin air informed him he was atop the pyramid. Marigolds encircled him, lit only by the flicker of torches. He tried to rub the focus back into his eyes when he realized his arms had been bound to a tall metal stake set into the stone.

“He’s awake,” came a voice.

Suddenly, he was surrounded by a group of hooded figures.

“What’s going on?” said Daniel, pulling against the ropes, “This isn’t funny!”

The figures dropped their hoods and the first face he recognized was Sofia’s. Her hair was tied back and what looked like red paint striped across her face.

“Sofia!” said Daniel.

Another robed figure appeared. It was Professor Toxtle and in his hands he held a large leather bound book. He started chanting.

“Se Uikpa Se!”

Daniel’s knowledge of the Aztec language translated the words.

"One for One!"

The others joined him in the chant and the wind started to blow harder.

CRACK!

Lightning broke from the black rolling clouds above. The chants grew louder.

Then with one brilliant flash, Daniel felt a jolt of electricity burn through him and when he next opened his eyes, he was no longer surrounded by the hooded figures. He was now surrounded by men and women in loincloths, chanting loudly, the same red paint on their faces. The jungle had suddenly grown wild around them.

A sickness coursed through him. He looked down to see that he was no longer in his own body. The body he saw was thin and weak, covered in thousands of small welts. He looked up to see a tall menacing man, feathers in his hair and a knife in one hand. The man spoke softly.

“You will live again my king,” He then stuck the blade deep in Daniel’s chest, and with his free hand he reached inside the cavity and pulled out the still beating heart. Finally, he turned back to his tribe.

“…But the sun must rise!”

THE END