The 13th Cycle by Sabrina Ricci (historical books to read .txt) 📖

done, called Cracking the Maya Code. “Move over, I want to see.” Cayden took Amara’s seat and started trying to read the stela.

“Hey, I was doing something,” Amara said.

“Sorry, the linguistics major in me is taking over.” He turned briefly and grinned at Amara. “You’ll just have to wait.” He looked around the site some more. “Can I help you with your research? This stuff is actually pretty interesting.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Amara said. Then she saw the clock on her laptop. “Shoot, I’m late for my history midterm. Gotta go!”


Amara ducked into the room and started her test right away. Class was already more than halfway over, so she had to rush. She scribbled as fast as she could, but in her haste she ended up making up some of her answers. Embarrassed that she had been so late, she turned in her paper without looking at her professor and ran out the door.

She decided to walk home instead of taking her bike, so that she would have time to think of ways to make up her grade for the midterm she had probably just failed. Her phone vibrated, alerting her to two new emails. She swiped her screen, and saw the first one was from Makenna, giving her the go-ahead for her feature and setting a deadline for it. She had two weeks. Amara had to resist jumping up and down; she was so excited.

The second email was from Professor Brown. He said he’d be happy to meet with Amara, but that he’d have to meet her right away in his office before he left for home. Amara checked the email’s time stamp—it had been sent ten minutes ago. In her adrenaline rush, Amara called Cayden.

“Cay, guess what!”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Got my first interview for my story! It’s with Professor Brown—he’s a history teacher here who knows about the Maya Calendar. But I have to go to his office right now, before he leaves for the day.”

“Where is it? I’ll meet you.”


They met in front of the library. On the way to Professor Brown’s office, Amara’s phone vibrated again.

“What’s that?” Cayden said.

Amara checked her phone and rolled her eyes. “Just a stupid text from Ace. He’s the features editor, so technically I have to report to him. He’s being a douche and demanding updates on my story, even though Makenna just emailed me saying they won’t run it for two weeks. I’ll tell him I’ll email him later.”

Amara typed as quickly as she could before they got to Professor Brown’s door. “Ok done,” she said. “Ready?”

Cayden nodded, and Amara knocked.

“Yes?” Professor Brown said when he answered. He was a large, wheezy man, and his office was cramped and full of books and loose stacks of paper. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Amara—the reporter who emailed you earlier? And this is my colleague, Cayden. We came as soon as I got your email—I didn’t want to risk missing you.”

Professor Brown furrowed his brow. “Hm, I wasn’t expecting you. I thought I just read an email from you that said you wouldn’t be able to make it? That’s odd.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Amara felt a knot in her stomach. She wondered if the hackers had gotten into her email account too. Wanting to be professional, she tried to forget her paranoia and concentrate on the task at hand. “Sorry if there’s any confusion, but I’d definitely like to interview you today.”

Professor Brown gestured them in. “All right then, let’s get started.”


An hour later, Amara had ten pages of notes and a little better idea of the Maya Calendar. Unfortunately, Professor Brown had been overzealous in sharing his knowledge of Mayan rituals and habits and culture, so she didn’t have much new information on the Calendar. Amara comforted herself with the thought that she had at least gotten a recipe for balchė, an ancient alcoholic drink made from bark and sweetened with honey. She made a mental note to try it later.

“Well that was kind of a waste,” Amara said to Cayden as they walked home. “Sorry.”

“What are you talking about?” Cayden said. “That was cool. We learned all kinds of stuff, and now maybe I can make more sense of their language.”

Amara finished locking up her bike before Cayden, so she was first to the door. Taped to the doorknob was a strange note, on aging yellow paper with barely legible scribbling. Amara squinted to read it.

“These secrets aren't yours to tell," it said. “Stop now or we will be forced to harm Cayden.” The rest of the note contained a series of strange symbols:


“What’s that?” Cayden asked, coming up behind her.

“Oh, nothing.” Amara crumpled up the paper and shoved it in her jacket pocket.
CHAPTER 4 - Around 900 A.D.

“Mahaway, what are you doing? We need to get back to work.” Yochi frowned as he watched his partner lazily scratch circles in the dirt in front of the large rock they had been assigned. They were transcribing the latest tales of their new King, Jasaw Chan K'awiil II.
“Jasaw will be disappointed if this is not finished before the end of the month.”
“Relax Yochi, we’ll finish,” Mahaway murmured.
“We only have three more days.” Yochi took away Mahaway’s stick.
“Hey!” she said. “I was doing something.”
“Didn’t look like anything to me. Now come on, get back to work. I don’t want to face the consequences if we—”
“If you what, Yochi?” Nacon, one of the top soldiers of Jasaw’s army, stepped out from behind the uncarved boulder. He was tall with bulging muscles, and his uniform was almost too small for him. He had an air of self-assuredness.
Yochi stiffened. “Nothing. There’s nothing to be concerned with here.”
“Oh no?” Nacon strolled around the rock, touching his hand along the rough outlines they had begun to etch. “If I were you, I’d be concerned. You only have three days left to finish and it looks like you’ve barely started this stela. You know King Jasaw would hate that.”
“Come back in three days. You’ll see.” Mahaway had gotten up and brushed the dirt off her scribe’s robes. She looked Nacon in the eye.
“Mahaway, you look lovely as ever,” Nacon said. “I’d hate to see you have to be punished.” He walked over to her, brushing his hand down her waist and letting it linger on her thigh. “Maybe I’ll be the one to carry it out,” he whispered.
Mahaway took a step back. “Excuse us,” she said. “We have to get back to work.”
“Yes, by all means.” Nacon turned and started walking away. “I’ll be back in three days.”
Yochi waited for Nacon to be out of earshot, and then breathed a sigh of relief. “He can be intimidating.” He turned to Mahaway. “Are you ok?”
Mahaway looked as if she were far away. “Sure. At least we don’t have to make weapons.” She jerked her head towards the workshop down the road, where workers had to spend their days crafting arrowheads from obsidian—fatal objects that would someday be used to kill their own kin.
Yochi broke into a smile and slapped his best friend on the back. “Good. Now back to the rock.”
Rolling her eyes, Mahaway trudged back to the boulder. How could things go so wrong in such a short amount of time? Just a few weeks ago she and Yochi were happy, allowed to roam freely in the hills. Then Venus came to invade their sky, accompanied by war horns, and soon soldiers followed. Now every day was spent building something—pyramids, ceramics, stelae. All to show King Jasaw’s glory. His glory of bloodshed and murder, which he had started by decapitating their beloved queen.
“I need a minute,” Mahaway said. She stomped off, too lost in her thoughts to notice where she was headed. Before she realized it, she had walked out of the city. Amazed she had been allowed to leave, she took a hard look at her surroundings, trying to memorize every fern and vine that was living free. Not looking where she was walking, Mahaway lost her footing. She screamed, trying to catch herself, but it was too late. She had fallen through a hole, and now she was sliding down into a dark cavern.
Helpless, Mahaway let herself fall, and soon found herself flat on the floor of a strange room. What is this place? she thought, taking it all in. Bits of hieroglyphs were scratched onto the rough walls, and the room was mostly bare, except for a small chair in the corner. Before she had any time to look closely, Yochi called.
“Mahaway!” His voice echoed. “Are you all right?”
“I think so. How did you get past the guards?”
“I followed you. Well, first I threw a rock in the bushes, and told them I thought I saw a poisonous snake. When they weren’t looking at me, I snuck out. Not the brightest bunch.” Yochi chuckled. “Hold on. I’ll find some rope and get you out.”
A few moments later, Yochi grabbed Mahaway’s hand as she climbed out.
“So what was down there anyway?” Yochi asked.
Mahaway brushed dirt off her clothes. “I think it was some sort of secret room. Anyway, that’s enough for today. Let’s head home, and worry about the stela tomorrow.”


Together they walked back to their city, Ox Te- Tuun. Mahaway slid her arm through Yochi’s, making him blush. For a moment they could pretend they still lived their lives pre-war.
“Mahaway, I worry about you,” Yochi said.
“Mmm.”
“Someday your carelessness will get you into trouble. And what if I’m not around to save you?”
Mahaway sighed. She cared deeply for Yochi, but sometimes found his overprotectiveness irksome. “Oh Yochi, you know—”
Yochi jumped when he heard a loud crack. A man had just rammed his cart into the side of a building, trapping another man. They were screaming at each other, the trapped man trying to push the cart away while the other man slapped at the cart in anger. Stalks of maize fell from the cart, and several children rushed to pick them up. The man with the cart noticed, and he started chasing the children in circles. The trapped man freed himself, then caught up with the other man and punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground. A crowd started to gather, and it wasn’t long until other men joined in the fighting. The women stayed at the edges of the scuffle, yelling at the men to stop and calling their children to safety. Blood started to mix in