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Poole. During the looted artifacts scandal that had shaken her family, Mercurio had logically decided that being mentored by Philip was no longer a fast road to academic recognition. It hadn’t been a difficult decision. Not only was Philip an exacting master on dig sites, he wasn’t going to make room for anyone other than himself at the top of the pyramid. The scandal made a hat trick on the side of Mercurio working alone.
    Lina had been there on the hot, steamy night when Mercurio and Philip had unloaded years of mutual tension. Mercurio had left at dawn and had never come back. He had kept in touch with Lina, though.
    Sometimes too much touch. Especially after the scandal had died down. Lina never had been sexually drawn to the handsome young Mexican, no matter how delicate or deliberate his pursuit. Yet they had retained an odd kind of remember-when friendship rooted in past digs and present interest in Yucatec Maya artifacts.
    Reluctantly she punched in the number Mercurio always made sure she had. The phone rang several times before a male voice answered in Spanish. Around his words she heard the sound of a sea breeze through open windows and the cry of birds. A cross between homesickness and nostalgia swept over her. There was no place on the earth like the Yucatan.
    “ Hola, Mercurio. It’s Lina Taylor,” she said, mouth dry.
    “Lina! It’s so good to hear your voice again,” he said. “It has been much too long.”
    “I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t get down to Tulum as often as I used to. And when I do it’s to see family or digs.”
    “Ah, but you never find time to see my digs,” he said, his voice teasing. “You know that you’re more than welcome anytime.”
    “Of course. You’re very gracious, Mercurio. You always have been.”
    Somehow Lina managed the long minutes of polite small talk—family and digs and weather, new friends and old—while she waited for the right moment to introduce the reason for her call.
    “Though truth to tell, I won’t be on the digs as much as I used to,” Mercurio said. “I’m in line for director of the department. Funny, no?”
    “A desk instead of a dig? You never seemed the type. Always happier out in the dirt, like me.”
    “Ah well, things change. Except for your father. His only change is to get more…”
    “Difficult?” Lina suggested dryly.
    She could almost hear Mercurio’s stifled laughter.
    “I should thank King Philip for teaching me the importance of being politic,” Mercurio said after a moment.
    “Are you kidding?” Lina asked. “Philip hates anything that doesn’t have him measuring a dig level, marking and mapping artifacts in situ, or gently brushing dirt away. He’s the least political academic I know.”
    “Exactly,” Mercurio said. “Which is why he’ll be out in the rough instead of on the fairway.”
    “When did you take up golf?”
    Mercurio laughed. She found herself smiling. Laughter was one of the reasons they had remained friends despite the professional and personal tensions.
    “But really, if not for Philip’s example of how not to do things,” Mercurio said, “I probably would have made a mess of my career.”
    Like Philip did.
    But neither of them said it aloud.
    “Philip is the best technical archaeologist I’ve ever known,” Mercurio continued. “Sites he’s named are referred to constantly. Yet he, himself, is almost never cited directly. It is excellent that he enjoys his digs. He will be working them until he dies, and then all he will have to show for his life is dirty fingernails.”
    Part of Lina wanted to disagree. The adult part told her to shut up and listen. Mercurio was her best sounding board for what was happening in the Maya artifact community outside the Reyes Balam family.
    “But I’m sure that you didn’t call to hear what I think of your father,” Mercurio said smoothly. “We’re adults, and that is behind us. So tell me the reason for this delightful break in my boring