Treasure Hunters: Book of Secrets

Eleven: Legend of Cibola

"Why is this a security camera photo?"

The Gates siblings, Riley, and Abigail were back home in America, and had promptly taken the photo of the plank to Patrick in hope of at least some translation. Alex kept fussing over her father, asking him if he was okay after Wilkinson broke in and attacked him, and he assured her that he was just fine.

Brother and sister exchanged a glance. "We'll explain later," Ben quickly brushed the question aside. "Can you read any of this, Dad?"

Patrick looked as though he wanted to question his children further, but turned back to the plank. "I can't make out the whole thing, but I can tell you that these are definitely pre-colonial Native American markings," he said, examining the security photo closely.

"Easily five-hundred years old," added Ben.

"Easily. I can identify one symbol though: look at this - do you know what this is?" Patrick pointed. "That symbol is Cibola."

"The City of Gold," gasped Alex.

"Gold?" Riley perked up.

Ben nodded. "The City of Gold."

"Let me guess: it's a city full of gold."

"Yes, Riley. And made of it." Ben went over to the bookshelf and produced one of the many books. "'In 1527 a Spanish ship wrecked on the Florida coast. There were only four survivors. One was a slave named Estebán who saved a local tribe's dying chief. As a reward he was taken to their sacred city, a city built from solid gold. Later, when Estebán tried to find the city again, he never could. But the legend grew, and every explorer came to the New World in search of it. When General Custer's search for gold ended with his last stand at Little Bighorn, it became clear that none would ever find it." He closed the book and everyone sat in silence, absorbing this.

"Can you imagine if the Confederates got their hands on the City of Gold," said Patrick. "My God."

"Yeah," said Riley, trying to include himself and make it look like he knew what they were talking about. "Terrible."

"So we're looking for the City of Gold," exclaimed Abigail.

"We're going to go talk to her," said Ben suddenly. Patrick understood immediately and now stared at his son, almost horrified. "And you're coming with us."

"No!" Patrick tried to scoot around the couch but Ben caught him. When he turned to try and flee again, his daughter blocked his path.

"Hey, no one else can translate it," Ben cried.

"Sure there's others! Lots of others!"

"For Ancient Native American? There's no one better," Alex reminded him, also agreeing with her brother's next plan of action.

"Look Ben, Alex, I can't go with you. It's been what, twenty-five years? There's a reason we haven't spoken in twenty-five years."

"Who?" asked Riley, completely oblivious. Abigail only giggled.

"Thirty-two," Alex corrected. "Thirty-two years, Dad."

Now Patrick looked surprised. "That long? Look, there's a reason we haven't spoken in thirty-two years: we have nothing in common."

"Me," said Ben.

"Me," said Alex.

"Oh well, yes, yes of course. And I'm sure she's just as proud of you both as I am."

"Who?" asked Riley again, still confused.

"Their mom," answered Abigail.

"Ohhhh..."

(Haha love that scene! ;) I'm back now from my summer course so (hopefully) there will be more regular updates now! Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed! :))