Hunters of Chaos (2 page)

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you saying I'm a trust-fund kid? You mean to tell me that I've been washing dishes and taking out the trash to earn an allowance when all this time I've had a bunch of money stashed somewhere with my name on it?”

“Well, no,” Uncle Mec broke in. “Technically, it doesn't have
your
name on it. It's been earmarked specifically for Temple Academy.”

“Oh,” I said, not sure how to feel about that. I'd always thought I'd go to school with the rest of my friends. None of us were poor, but we were not exactly rich, either. Only, it turned out I was a little less not-rich than I'd thought—even if I could only use those riches for one thing. “But why didn't you guys tell me sooner?”

The two of them shared a guilty glance before Aunt Teppy said, “I think we were in denial. If it were up to me, you'd live with us until you were old and gray.” She picked up the letter again and read it over. It might have just been the angle of her head in the sunlight, but I think she was tearing up. Uncle Mec just kept gazing out the window and sighing.

“And what if I refuse to go?” I asked. “What then?”

“Well, then your aunt and I would take the money and buy that yacht we've had our eye on at last!” said Uncle Mec.

My aunt rolled her eyes without even looking his way. “What he means to say is, we'd have to ask the lawyer about that. But really, this is what your mom and dad wanted for you,
niña
.”

“But if this place is so great,” I said, “why do the two of you look like I was just drafted into the army or something?”

They shared another long glance and my uncle shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Listen, Ana,” Uncle Mec said, his voice not quite as confident as he probably hoped it sounded. “We didn't mean to give you the wrong impression. We're just two selfish old people who want to keep you close to us. But this”—he held up the letter—“is good news, not bad. Temple Academy can offer you opportunities you'd never get at the local school. That is, if . . .” This time he trailed off and looked helplessly at my aunt. He seemed worried. If I hadn't been staring at them so hard, I would have missed the almost imperceptible shake of Aunt Teppy's head.

“If? ”
I demanded. “If
what
?”

But Aunt Teppy had plastered on a smile and brushed past my question. “There's nothing to worry about, Ana. You are going to do wonderfully at Temple. It's in your genes! Now—I'm sure you had an exciting day planned of lying around in your pajamas and watching game shows, but instead let's go shopping to buy you all the things you'll need. According to this letter, you have to be there in two weeks, so we don't have much time.”

“But, but what about—?” I tried.

Aunt Teppy clapped her hands. “Chop chop, Ana. Hurry up and finish your breakfast. Big day ahead.” She rushed out of the kitchen then, and my uncle quietly rose from his chair to follow her, giving my arm a squeeze before he left.

I took a seat in front of my now cold pancakes to try to finish my breakfast. I had eaten the bottom half of the circle, so the blueberry smile was gone. All that remained were two blue eyes staring back at me, looking just as lost as I felt.

Two weeks passed in a blur and suddenly it was the night before I had to leave for Temple Academy. The weather seemed to feel as uneasy as I did. A storm had raged outside the house all day, rattling our windows and lighting up the darkness with occasional bursts of lightning. And there was so much rain, I started to wonder if I'd have to swim to the airport the next day.

I looked around my room for the millionth time. Was it possible that in just a few hours, I wouldn't be sleeping here anymore? I'd be somewhere in New Mexico surrounded by strangers and, if every movie I'd ever seen about boarding schools was to be believed, sharing a room with a clique of girls who would spend their time plotting my demise.

I opened my suitcase again and took out the ratty stuffed cat I'd had since I was little. It was kind of my security blanket. But if I was going to be surrounded by snobby mean girls who'd make fun of me over every little thing, I didn't want to give them any ammunition.
Sorry, Whiskers.
I put him back on my bookshelf. I picked up the small photo album I'd placed in the side compartment of the suitcase and sat on the edge of my bed, flipping through it until I came across a picture of my parents.

In the picture they were in a park, knee-deep in snow. They had one long red-and-black scarf wrapped around both their necks. Mom, her long black hair tucked into a pink wool cap with a white pom-pom on top, was kissing Dad's cheek. His eyes were closed, snowflakes settling into his lashes, and he had this silly grin on his face. It was a little blurry and off center, maybe because snowflakes were landing on the lens. But I could see that they had been young in the photo, early twenties, maybe. It was weird that I knew so little about my own parents. I knew that I looked like my mom, and Uncle Mec always said that I laughed just like my dad. But other than that, I didn't know the first thing about them—except that for some reason, they'd wanted me to go to Temple Academy. Was that really where they met? I wondered.

Just then I heard three soft knocks. My door creaked open slowly and Aunt Teppy peeked around the edge. “Mind if I come in?” she said.

I waved her in and kept looking down at the photo. She came and sat next to me on the bed and looked down too. “Aw, that's a great one,” she said, taking the album from my hands and laying it across her lap. “I think I actually took this picture. I remember we had so much fun that day.” Her voice broke a little on the last word and tears filled her eyes and slid down her cheek. This, exactly this, was why I never asked about my parents.

“I'm sorry, Aunt Teppy,” I said, getting up to grab a box of tissues from my nightstand. I handed her one. “I know you miss them. I'll put the album away.”

But she waved me off like I was being silly. “No, no, it's not that,” she said, dabbing at her nose with the tissue. “I mean, it
is.
But it isn't only that. We're just going to miss you
so much
.” She offered me a weak smile. “You've made us so happy, Ana.”

“Jeez, Aunt Teppy, I'm not dying,” I said. “Just going to school. You'll see me again in, like, two months, you know.” I tried for a light tone to cheer her up. But the truth is, I was just as sad. I'd miss them like crazy.

Aunt Teppy laughed a little. “I know,” she said, then cleared her throat. “But until then, I have a present for you.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled something out. In her hand she held a leather necklace with a turquoise Mayan jaguar carving hanging from the end. It was a little bit smaller than my palm.

“This jaguar is very special to me and to our people,” she said. “I want you to promise to wear it all the time so that your uncle and I will always be close to your heart.”

I couldn't help cringing a little. Talk about giving any mean girls ammunition to make fun of me. Nothing says,
I fit in here,
like a Mayan jaguar carving hanging from my neck. But I could see how important it was to my aunt, so I took the necklace from her and pulled it over my head. The carving was lighter than it looked, and the surface felt oddly cool against my skin. But I still hoped it wouldn't be too hot in New Mexico for me to throw on a pretty scarf to hide my newest piece of jewelry.

I felt guilty for even having that thought. She and Uncle Mec were super into the whole Mayan thing, and they always tried to make it clear how important it was for me to know about my Mayan heritage and to take pride in it. And I did. I actually loved hearing about the ancient warriors and seeing all the art they left behind. Knowing that I was connected to this whole civilization that archaeologists spent a lifetime studying was kind of cool. But, honestly, that all seemed like such a long time ago. What did those dusty relics in the history museum have to do with my life now? Other than the fact that my last name—Cetzal—was Mayan, I just didn't feel the connection. But for my aunt's sake, I kept that to myself.

“Thanks,” I said. “It's awesome.”

“I'm glad you like it,” she answered. “There's one more thing.” She stood up and went out into the hall. When she came back into my room, she was carrying a large gift-wrapped box. She sat next to me on the bed again and handed me the present.

“What—what is this?” I asked as I took it from her.

“Something every student should have.” She smiled knowingly.

I ripped open the box to find a brand-new shiny silver laptop. For a moment I was speechless. “But—but are you sure?” I managed finally. “These cost so much—”

Aunt Teppy held up her hand to silence my protests. “You're worth every penny,” she said. “And we've already had someone install all the software you might need.”

I put the laptop aside and flung my arms around her. “Thank you,” I said, my voice a bit shaky. We held on to each other like that for a long time before she gently pulled away and stood up. She glanced around the room, the same way I had been for days. “Well, I suppose I should let you finish packing. We have to get an early start tomorrow, so don't stay up too late, okay?”

“I won't.”

She leaned down to kiss me on my forehead, then cupped my face in her hands. As I looked into her eyes, I thought I saw something more than run-of-the-mill sadness. There was unease there, a hint of fear that I could swear I'd seen in my uncle's eyes every time I said the words “Temple Academy.” “I'm worried about you guys,” I said. “What will you do without me?”

Aunt Teppy smiled. “We'll be just fine,” she replied. “Don't worry about us.”

But that night as I lay in my bed, listening to the sounds of the storm outside, I did nothing
but
worry.

W
HEN THE AIRPORT TAXI STOPPED
at the end of the Temple Academy driveway, I put one foot out of the car and paused, suddenly frozen in fear. For some reason I'd expected New Mexico to be just like Ohio—same cookie-cutter streets and houses, just different address numbers. But getting out of the taxi felt like stepping into a science-fiction movie. For one thing, it was hot in a way that Cleveland never was, not even in the summer. There wasn't a single house for miles in any direction, and the only roads I saw weren't even paved—they were just dirt, the dust from them rising up into the faint blue sky like puffs of gray cloud. All around me were towering mountain ranges and jagged rock cliffs that looked as if they were made of red clay. I might as well have been on the moon. “This is where you wanted to go, right?” a gruff voice said from the front seat.

“What?” I said, swinging my head around to see the driver staring at me with bored eyes.

“You don't seem too sure you're in the right place. Do you need to call somebody? Your mom, maybe?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm in the right place . . . I think. I'm just not sure I want to stay.”

The driver turned to peer out of the passenger-side window at the school. He took off his worn baseball hat to reveal a slightly sunburned bald scalp and wiped his forehead with his arm. “Doesn't look so bad to me,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

He was right, actually. Against the otherworldly backdrop of the mountains, the school itself looked like an oasis of normalcy. The cream-colored facade of the main building was nestled in a valley of lush greenery. Large French windows revealed a homey lobby area with overstuffed blue and brown sofas. The elegant columns on either side of the entrance seemed almost humble compared to the steep cliffs that hemmed in the campus. Even the sign out front with the Temple Academy crest on it was downright friendly—no large scary block letters or intimidating gold calligraphy, just simple lettering in an arc over a picture of an open book. Through the large windows I could see other students roaming around in groups of three and four. None of them looked particularly homicidal and they definitely weren't as alien as the rest of New Mexico. Taking it all in, I felt a wave of relief. Like me, Temple Academy didn't look like it belonged here. So at least we had that in common.

“Going or staying?” the driver prodded, tapping his meter, although the school had arranged for the car to pick me up and paid him in advance.

I took a deep breath. “Staying.” With that I brought my other foot out to join the first and stood up. My legs were shaky as I moved toward the trunk to get my luggage. But before the driver even had a chance to open it, the ground suddenly rumbled and shook beneath me, like
it
wasn't so sure about my decision to stay here. I yelped and clung to the side of the car. What was happening? The trees in front of the school swayed and brushed against the windowpanes, and the water in the fountain off to the side rippled as if someone had been skipping rocks across its surface.