Invisible City by M. G. Harris

of evidence. An ancient document—it’s not the kind of thing you destroy just in case things go wrong.”
    â€œYeah, but what about all the danger?”
    â€œGuess that’s why he said to destroy it. To save us from any danger.” She turns to me with a grin. “He didn’t know his own children, though. Both just as curious as their father.”
    â€œWell, yeah.”
    â€œYou see now why I couldn’t show this letter to the police?” Camila says. “At least until I’ve had a chance to find out what Dad was searching for. And that’s what they want. That’s what this is all about.”
    â€œWhoever killed Dad did it to get their hands on his secret.”
    â€œI hate secrets,” Camila says. “Don’t you?”
    Ollie leans over the wrought-iron garden table, pours herself and Tyler more iced tea.
    â€œHave you deciphered your half of the manuscript?” she asks.
    â€œSure,” replies Camila. In Spanish she asks, “You trust your buddies, do you?”
    â€œOf course! They helped me to crack my half of the inscription.”
    Camila looks thoughtful for a second, then gives a little shrug and disappears into the house. She returns a moment later holding a small lacquered box. She opens it, removes a piece of bark paper.
    There’s a tear along the left-hand side of the manuscript. I reach into my back pocket and take out my half. I spread it out on the table next to Camila’s half. No question about it—they match.
    Camila gives me a look that’s somewhere between sisterly love and pride. “Here it is,” she says. “The Calakmul letter. My father talked about how he was studying this letter written to a king of Calakmul. But in my half there’s no reference to Calakmul at all.”
    â€œIt’s to Yuknoom Ch’een, the ruler of Calakmul,” Ollie tells her.
    â€œFrom his servant,” adds Tyler.
    I want to fume quietly at this extra evidence of how much Dad preferred Camila—he’d even discussed his work with her. But even more than that—I want to look smart.
    â€œA letter,” I say, “telling how the Bakab was defeated. How the Bakab came from a place called Chechan Naab. And it mentions the Book of Ix.”
    Camila nods. “That’s it. The sacred Book of Ix. That makes sense. Well, look, let’s read it.”
    So we do. First we read out our translation, then Camila reads out hers.
    K’inich K’ane Ajk of Cancuén writes to Lord Yuknoom Ch’een of Calakmul
    I am your servant
    From Chechan Naab he emerged, from the Great Temple of the Cross
    The Bakab was defeated
    This sacred Book of Ix speaks of the end of days
    13.0.0.0.0 it is written in the Sacred Books of Itzamna
    The Black Road will open the Heart of Sky
    It will be destroyed
    Healer of Worlds will be born
    In the Moon it walks
    In their Holy City of Ek Naab they wait
    They are still. They wait
    In wonder I stare at the inscription. There it is—the final clue from Dad’s e-mails to Montoyo and the Peabody Museum guy.
    And the other city name, the city that no one seems to have heard of, the one that doesn’t exist.
    Ek Naab
.

Chapter 14
    â€œThe ‘Holy City of Ek Naab,’” I say, pointing to a glyph. “Dad e-mailed some Maya scholars, asked about that place. No one’s heard of it.”
    â€œ
Utom
,” murmurs Ollie. “So that sentence at the tear says
The Black Road will open the Heart of Sky
.”
    Camila’s section of the Calakmul letter is more baffling than ours.
    â€œIt’s all Mayan mythology,” she tells us. “And although it sounds pretty strange, I know, I think maybe it has a real meaning for us too. I’ve spent days studying what it means. You wanna know?”
    We nod.
    â€œThe Black Road—
Xibalba be
—is kind of the Mayan concept of the Road to Hell. But,” explains Camila, “there’s