Treasure Hunters--Quest for the City of Gold Read online

  “Well, duh,” said Storm. “It’s what I do.”

  While Storm gazed at the map through the Sacred Stone, Beck dashed off a quick sketch of what she had seen on the wall.

  “Well done, you two,” said Storm, after she’d soaked up the visuals and committed them to memory. “I believe you have just discovered the final key to locating Paititi.”

  “This is so awesome!” said Tommy. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and let loose the family whistle. “We need to show Dad.”

  “But not Chet Collier,” I said.

  “I agree with Bick,” said Beck. “And not just because we’re twins. That Collier kid is sketchy.”

  “He doesn’t need to know about the map,” said Storm. “His purpose on this expedition is to document rain-forest devastation.”

  “And make us TV stars,” added Tommy, practicing his head tilt and toothy smile. “But he doesn’t need the map for that either.”

  He whistled again.

  Dad didn’t whistle back.

  But somebody else did. Somebody who’d just stepped into that rectangular window of bright sunlight. Even though he was in silhouette, I recognized his ridiculous French Foreign Legion cap.

  It was that jerk Guy Dubonnet Merck!

  CHAPTER 48

  Merck whistled again, and three armed thugs appeared.

  They had their weapons trained on Dad and Chet Collier, both of whom had their hands up over their heads.

  Storm, still holding the Sacred Stone, tried to hide it behind her back. It didn’t work. The sunlight streaming through that rectangular opening hit the faceted rock, and it shot a dozen bright yellow dots, like a cluster of laser beams, against the walls. If we were cats, we would’ve chased them immediately.

  “Aha!” exclaimed Merck in his thick French accent. “Voilà! You have done our job for us. You have found la pierre sacrée—the Sacred Stone!” He holstered his pistol and turned to one of his goons, a guy carrying a very long duffel bag, like you’d use for skis. “Jacques?”

  “Oui?”

  “It is the moment of truth. We must see if the stone fits!” Merck held out his hand to Storm. “Kindly give me the jewel, petite fille.”

  “Whoa,” said Tommy, bristling. “What’d you just call my sister?”

  “A little girl,” said Merck.

  “Oh. Okay, then. I think.”

  Storm looked to Dad. The goon guarding him cocked back the hammer on his rifle.

  “Do as Monsieur Merck instructs,” said Dad.

  “And please hurry,” begged Chet Collier, whose captor had just jammed a pistol into the small of his back. “These guys’ trigger fingers look extremely twitchy.”

  Storm lobbed the Sacred Stone across the cave to Merck. He caught it one-handed, which was a good thing, because he always posed with his other hand tucked into his safari jacket, as if he were Napoleon with an eye patch.

  “Now then, Jacques,” he said to the heavy toting the duffel. “The staff!”

  “Oui, Monsieur Merck!”

  Jacques unzipped the bag and pulled out the golden Incan rod that Mom, Dad, and Tommy had found back on Cocos Island—the one that went with the high priest’s headdress.

  Merck fondled the yellow sapphire with his fingers for a few seconds and then, barely able to contain his delight, fitted it into that empty hole in the corncob at the tip of the golden staff.

  “The corncob is complete!” shouted Merck. “Our friends will now be able to perform the sacred ritual and enter the Lost City of Gold.”

  “With a corncob?” muttered Tommy. “That’s, like, so totally random.”

  “You’re forgetting,” said Storm, shifting into teacher mode, “that corn is what made the Incan Empire possible. Corn and, of course, llama poop.”

  “What?” said just about everybody in the cavern.

  “Llama droppings were the fertilizer that allowed maize to take root high up in the Andes Mountains where it otherwise couldn’t have survived,” Storm explained.

  We all just nodded.

  And then Merck got back to business.

  “The high priest will be most happy when we present him with the restored Incan rod. For this, we thank you.” He kissed the air twice. “Mwah! Mwah! Merci beaucoup! Thank you so very much.”

  “Now do we get to kill them?” asked the eager goon with his gun aimed at Dad.

  Merck grinned, stroked his chin, and thought about it long and hard.

  Which was a good thing.

  I really wasn’t in a hurry to die.

  CHAPTER 49

  “Non!” Merck finally announced.

  I’m pretty sure that non is French for “no” because the instant he said it, his grumbling goon squad lowered their weapons.

  “But we have not killed anyone all day,” complained Jacques.

  “I know, mon ami,” said Merck. “So, if you see a jaguar, you have my permission to shoot it. No questions asked. Just point and click. But these Kidds and their young friend, Monsieur Collier? We will let them live. For, as you see, they are always stumbling upon things that I can sell to the highest bidder. First the high priest’s rod and headdress. Now the Sacred Stone. Who knows when I might need something else and so will need them to find it for me? We let them live. But only if you promise not to follow after us. Do we have a deal, Professor Dr. Kidd?”

  “Oui,” said Dad, who can say “yes” in French with the best of ’em. “We will not follow you. For, as you just said, you seldom know where it is you are going unless we have been there first.”

  “This is so very true. And so, we bid you au revoir. Thank you once again for finding the sacred sapphire, because I had no clue where to look. Seriously, that map?” He made an explosion noise as he flicked his fingers away from his head. “Blew my mind. Had no idea what all those dots and squiggles were all about. But thanks to you Kidds, I am becoming filthy rich. Come, my minions. We must take our treasure to the high priest who awaits us at the gates to Paititi!”

  We stood there and watched them leave.

  Finally, when we were sure they were long gone, Storm spoke up.

  “Too bad they have no idea where they are going,” she said.

  “Unfortunately,” Dad said with a sigh, “they might. I suspect they are working with whoever it was that stole the treasure map off the Lost. It would explain why Merck was on the island robbing us while the pirates were on the ship burgling us. And why he just referenced seeing the map even though he wasn’t the one who stole it.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Beck, gesturing to the painted wall that the four of us had blocked the instant Merck and his French henchmen stepped into our cave. “They still don’t know how to find Paititi.”

  “My goodness,” said Dad. “It’s the map.”

  “Totally,” said Tommy. “But check this out—it’s like that map you left for us on the Lost that one time.”

  “There’s another map painted on top of it with ancient invisible ink!” I blurted out, because I get super-excited whenever I have a huge secret.

  “What do you mean?” asked Collier.

  “There was a detailed rendering of the precise path to Paititi painted on top of the much more generalized treasure map!” said Beck. “That’s why Father Toledo’s letter made such a big deal about finding the Sacred Stone that would, and I quote, ‘reveal all’!”

  “Beck could see the secret map only when she looked at the wall through the Sacred Stone,” I explained.

  “I drew the map,” said Beck.

  “Did Storm see it as well?” asked Dad.

  “Yes, sir,” said Storm.

  “Beck?”

  “Yes, Dad?”

  “Destroy your drawing.”

  “No problem.” She ripped the sketch out of her sketchbook, tore it in half, and gave one scrap of paper to me. Then we both popped the paper into our mouths and chewed.

  “Um, that was dumb,” said Collier. “You guys gave the stone that allowed you to read the real map
to Merck! Then you destroyed your only copy. Now you don’t know how to get to Paititi either.”

  “Oh, yes, we do,” said Tommy, turning to Storm. “Right, sis?”

  Storm just smiled and tapped her temple.

  Dad roared with laughter.

  “That’s my girl!” He said it so proudly and loudly, it echoed off the cavern walls. He marched across the dusty chamber and gave Storm a huge bear hug!

  Then he motioned for the rest of us to join in.

  Well, everybody except Chet Collier. He could do group hugs with his own family on their next televised reunion.

  CHAPTER 50

  We decided to make camp at the necropolis and spend the night.

  It’d been a long day—complete with a three-story rock-slide ride that had left Beck and me feeling a little banged up. But thanks to the secret invisible-ink map, we were the only ones who knew the final path to Paititi, so we weren’t in as huge a hurry as before.

  “We’ll leave at first light,” Dad announced. “Your mother just advised me via a satellite-phone text that she and Chaupi have successfully stalled for time in Lima. The president and interior minister know we are very close to finding the Peruvian people’s long-lost treasure. In fact, they may even want to help us. Señor Rojas is, as you might imagine, upset. He is used to getting his way and buying whatever he wants. Too bad he’s never been up against a negotiator as tough as Sue Kidd or a leader as determined as Chaupi.”

  “Awesome,” said Tommy. “I could definitely sleep. I’m totally wiped out.”

  “Us, too,” said Beck and me.

  “I am also feeling somewhat somnolent,” said Storm, because it would’ve been way too easy for her to simply say she was drowsy.

  “I’m tired, too,” admitted Chet Collier with a yawn. “Exciting stuff today. Bad guys with guns. Big yellow sapphires. Golden corncobs. Secret maps painted on walls. Group hugs. I also shot some great footage of a pile of dry bones. I might be able to sell that video to the Pets Channel. They do programs that dogs like to watch.”

  “One last thing,” said Dad, reaching into his pocket. “Before we all retire for the evening, I’d like to make a special presentation to honor you, Storm, and your big, beautiful brain. Your mother and I would like to give you a small token of our love and esteem.”

  He popped open the lid on a small jewelry box.

  “These are your mother’s favorite earrings. And she insisted that, tonight, I pass them on to you.”

  Dad helped Storm slip on the earrings.

  Then we all crawled into our sleeping bags.

  This may seem weird but, as tired as I was, I had trouble falling asleep. I guess because my brain realized that, the very next day, we would be walking into the ancient Incas’ Lost City of Gold—a treasure that had eluded explorers for centuries. Thinking about that got my heart beating fast and my adrenaline pumping.

  I was so stoked, I figured I’d just lie there all night staring up at the stars.

  But then a mosquito bit me on the neck and I completely conked out.

  At least I thought it was a mosquito.

  CHAPTER 51

  When we woke up the next morning (thanks to an extremely bright sun), we all had swollen welts on our necks.

  Well, actually, Tommy had one on his butt.

  “We were blowgunned!” I said.

  “Stung by darts dipped in some kind of sleeping potion!” added Beck.

  “Most likely a tropical tranquilizer,” said Dad, rubbing the back of his head.

  “Chya!” said Tommy, rubbing his butt. “My cheek’s still numb.”

  And then we all waited for Storm to chime in with a more scientific, nerdy analysis of what type of knockout potion our attackers had used.

  But she didn’t say a word.

  Because her sleeping bag was empty! Chet Collier’s, too!

  “They took Storm!” I shouted. “And Collier!”

  “Because they figured out that Storm memorized the secret map,” said Beck.

  “But, um, why would they kidnap Collier?” asked Tommy. “He didn’t know anything. Seriously. When it comes to knowing stuff, the guy is, like, even dumber than me.”

  “You’re not dumb, Thomas,” said Dad calmly. “And our nocturnal attackers did not kidnap Mr. Collier. In fact, I suspect that Chet Collier is the one who alerted our nefarious visitors to Storm’s knowledge of the map!”

  Feeling furious and frustrated, Beck and I launched into Twin Tirade number 1,105.

  “I knew we shouldn’t’ve invited Collier on this treasure hunt!” I shouted.

  “Yeah?” said Beck. “Well, I knew it before you, Bickford.”

  “Oh, really, Rebecca? Since when?”

  “Since the first time he popped up out of nowhere!”

  “Well, I knew it before that!”

  “What?”

  “I knew anybody named Collier had to be our enemy. It’s, like, a rule.”

  “Well, it’s a stupid rule. You can’t jump to conclusions about people like that.”

  “Of course you can’t,” I told her. “Everybody knows that.”

  “So what are we arguing about?”

  “I forget.”

  “Me, too. So we’re good?” asked Beck.

  “Definitely,” I told her. “Except, of course, Storm is still missing. That’s not good.”

  Dad shook his head. “All is not lost, twins. Why do you think I teamed up with young Chet yesterday?”

  “Um, because he needed adult supervision?” said Tommy.

  “Good point,” said Dad. “But in truth, I was shadowing Chet because your mother and I have been suspicious of young Mr. Collier ever since he mysteriously showed up in the Port of Pisco right after we spotted the pirates’ submarine.”

  Tommy snapped his fingers. “Nathan Collier has a submarine!” he said. “He used it against us in our very first treasure-hunting adventure without you and Mom.”

  “Collier has a whole fleet of submarines, Tommy,” said Dad. “Different sizes for different purposes.”

  “So, um, why did you guys invite Chet along if you knew he was a spy?” I asked.

  “Quite simple, Bick: Your mother and I used to be spies. One of the best tricks in the spy-craft toolbox is to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

  “Plus he had that awesome video camera to document all the rain-forest destruction and make us TV stars,” said Tommy. “Guess that’s not going to happen. Bummer.”

  “We’ll worry about that later,” said Dad. “Now we need to track Storm and make sure no harm comes her way.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Beck. “And how, exactly, are we going to do that?”

  Dad pulled a flat gadget out of his pocket.

  It was beeping. On its screen, I could see a blinking red dot. It was moving slowly across a map grid.

  “With this,” he said.

  CHAPTER 52

  Those earrings Dad gave Storm?

  There was a reason they were Mom’s favorites. They were actually another set of CIA-style spy gear—a pair of high-tech GPS devices that sent up a signal to a satellite, which bounced the wearer’s location back down to Dad’s palm-size tracking device!

  “As I said, your mother and I had our suspicions about Mr. Collier all along,” Dad told us as we hiked off into the jungle along the route Storm was taking, according to the steadily beeping tracker. “After I, somewhat foolishly in retrospect, congratulated Storm for memorizing the hidden map, I knew I needed to find a way to ensure her safety.”

  “That was smart,” I said.

  “Perhaps,” said Dad. “But alerting Collier to Storm’s secret knowledge of the precise location of Paititi was extremely dumb on my part. Perhaps the dumbest thing I have ever done. If anything happens to Stephanie, I will never forgive myself.”

  “Well,” said Tommy, “they’re not going to, you know, kill her. They need her photographic memory if they want the map. If she’s dead, her big brain will prob
ably stop working!”

  It was an obvious point, of course, but a good one. The bad guys wouldn’t hurt Storm, not as long as she took them where they wanted to go.

  “Still,” said Dad, “I am very glad that your mother insisted that I take extra precautions to safeguard Storm. She’s the one who suggested I buy some insurance with the tracker earrings. If anything were to happen to Storm…”

  He did not finish that thought. It was too sad to consider.

  Beck looked at the flashing blip on Dad’s device. “She’s not going straight to Paititi,” she said. “She’s going to the temple first.”

  “The secret cave map said you had to go to the temple before going to Paititi,” I explained to Tommy and Dad. “Tomb to temple to pyramid of gold.”

  “Any reason why?” asked Dad.

  “Yes,” said Beck, who had seen the map’s secrets when she peered through the Sacred Stone at the painted cave wall. “But, um, it was kind of written in Incan, so I’m not exactly sure what that reason is.”

  “Storm will know,” I said.

  “Totally,” added Tommy. “She can probably even read Incan.”

  “Indeed,” said Dad. “When your sister was just a toddler, your mother and I gave her an ancient-languages alphabet book for her birthday. She liked it much better than the letter songs on Sesame Street.”

  According to Dad’s tracking device, Storm was only about a mile ahead of us. She and whoever was forcing her to march through the jungle were moving slowly. Very, very slowly.

  “She’s buying us time,” said Dad. “Good girl. We should catch up with Storm and her captors within the hour.”

  Things were looking good.

  Until we came to a clearing and had to quickly take cover behind the nearest stand of ferns.

  CHAPTER 53

  Remember those three angry old men dressed in traditional Quechuan costumes we’d bumped into back at Qurikancha, the Incan temple in Cuzco?