Free Invisible City by M. G. Harris Page B

good shape,” she remarks to me as Tyler takes up his position against Mestre Ricardo.
    I sigh. “Yeah. I know. He’ll probably be selected for the British team.”
    â€œI should hope so,” she says. “He’s terrific!”
    It’s definitely time to change the subject. “So guess what,” I say. “I’ve found out something about the man in my dream.”
    Ollie swivels around, eyes wide. “Go on.”
    â€œHe’s my
grandfather
,” I tell her. “My secret grandfather. Turns out that Dad was illegitimate. His mother only confessedto Dad about a year ago. She sent him a photo of his father. And that’s how I know. Dad’s father—he’s the guy from my dream.”
    Well, that does it. I have Ollie’s undivided, even fascinated, attention.
    I glance at Tyler, who completes a series of intricate moves, a breathtaking sequence of handstand whirls, headspins, and a clock movement. He’s not improvising against Mestre Ricardo, I notice. Each time the players attack, they plant precisely aimed blows within inches of each other’s bodies. The crowd surrounds us even more densely. They murmur their appreciation.
    Ollie stands next to me, lost in thought. “So in your dream,” she says, speaking very slowly, “you’re seeing the death of your own grandfather?”
    I nod. That’s it exactly—like a premonition. Only it’s already happened.
    â€œAnd
he
is asking for the Bakab Ix?”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œWow.” Her voice drops to a breathless whisper. “So this Mayan thing—it’s been going on in your family for, like, years?”
    Again I nod. “My grandfather found the Calakmul letter—the one we deciphered. That’s how Dad started on his search for the Ix Codex.”
    â€œBut if your grandfather had the Calakmul letter, then maybe he was searching for the Ix Codex too.”
    â€œThat’s the whole point. Grandpa was hunting for the codex. Then Dad. Now me.”
    Ollie punches me lightly on the shoulder. “Way to keep your family legacy going!”
    â€œSome legacy,” I say. “They’re both dead. And still no codex.”
    â€œStill,” she replies, “I wonder why your grandpa was looking for it.”
    It seems pretty obvious to me. He was a museum curator, a seeker of rare Mayan objects.
    â€œWhat does his museum say?” Ollie asks.
    That was the odd thing. They’d denied all knowledge of him, right from the start.
    â€œAbuelita—my grandma—she tried. Years back. She doesn’t even know where he really came from.”
    Ollie’s eyes glisten. “Amazing! And you know what else is interesting—the missing half of the Calakmul letter? Your dad must have had it once.”
    â€œThat’s what I think,” I say. “Or else how could he think he’d found the trail of the Ix Codex?”
    Ollie goes quiet for a while, her eyes drifting off as she watches the capoeira players.
    â€œSo,” I tell her, “I’ve decided. I’ve got to find a way to go … to find Dad’s woman in Chetumal.”
    â€œâ€˜Dad’s woman’? I thought you were in denial about that …,” she says with a sly smile.
    â€œWe’ll see. Maybe she’s a contact, something to do with the codex hunt.”
    â€œFrom where? How many people do you think know about this?”
    There’s Carlos Montoyo, we know that. He still hasn’t replied to my e-mail, which has me more than a little spooked. Then there’s Ollie’s own theory—the CIA—or some U.S. agency looking to cover up UFO incidents and evidence of alien-Maya contact.
    â€œLet me get this straight. You think that your dad went to Mexico, met with Montoyo, and then disappeared?”
    â€œWent looking for the codex.
Then
disappeared. The missing days—remember?”
    I watch her as her mind