Read Online Addison Cooke and the Treasure of the Incas by Jonathan W. Stokes - Free Book Online Page A

very morose-looking Molly, Eddie, and Raj. Addison brushed a few chicken feathers off his blazer and offered his brightest smile. “Well, at least the rain has cleared.”
    Molly, Eddie, and Raj had the look of people who’ve been holding their breath for four hours.
    â€œWe’ve been holding our breath for four hours,” said Molly.
    â€œIt reeked in there,” Eddie agreed.
    â€œI found the ride rather pleasant.” Addison stretched his aching neck.
    â€œI heard Colombia is dangerous,” said Molly warily.
    Addison scanned his surroundings. The alleyway seethed with beggars, pickpockets, soothsayers, and knife fighters. Gypsies in brightly colored turbans sold fortunes for copper coins. Fire-eaters belched orange tongues of flame into the air. “It looks like the Bronx.” Addison shrugged.
    â€œBut what if we get kidnapped?”
    â€œWe can’t get kidnapped,” Addison said confidently.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œStick to me like a tick, Mo. What do kidnappers want?”
    â€œRansom.”
    â€œAnd where do they get it?”
    â€œFrom parents,” said Molly.
    â€œBut we don’t have parents,” said Addison. “And our aunt and uncle are
already
kidnapped, so we’re covered.”
    Molly nodded her head, seeing his logic.
    Addison pulled out his compass, gathering his bearings. “The clue said,
‘By the Río Olvidado, lie the bones of the underworld that guard the key to silver and gold.’
So our first order of business is finding this Olvidado River.”
    Addison led the group through the maze of Olvidados, following the local map from
Fiddleton’s Atlas
. Theywandered past a blind man with a snake coiled around his neck who sang tunes in a tribal tongue and shook his tin cup for change. They edged past local women with gold hoops in their noses who drank corn wine from gourds and gossiped in the ancient Quechuan languages of the Incan Empire.
    Like streams feeding a river, the alleys opened to streets that led to the bustling market square. There, dark-skinned women sold tapioca cakes and voodoo dolls. Road peddlers sold strings of glass beads and hawked water snake skins with medicinal qualities. But then Addison saw something truly remarkable: a girl with long black hair and bracelets all the way up her wrists. She was older than Addison, maybe fifteen. In her hand, she held a switchblade, and in her eyes, she held mischief.
    Addison found his feet leading him directly to her. “Addison Cooke,” he said, extending a hand. “You probably can’t understand English. But I had to introduce myself. I’m new to town and could use someone to show me the sights.”
    The girl ignored Addison’s offered hand. With her switchblade, she snapped the bottle cap off a soda and smacked it down on a cardboard box. She produced three conch shells and began shuffling them around on the cardboard.
    â€œMy name’s Guadalupe,” she said in perfect English. “Follow the bottle cap. It’s under one of the shells.”
    Addison watched Guadalupe slide the shells back and forth with dizzying speed.
    â€œIf you think you know where the shell is,
amigo
, put your money on the table.”
    Addison could not resist games of chance. His uncle Jasper loved everything from horse racing to roulette, and Addison had inherited the vice. He placed a few pesos on the cardboard box. “The bottle cap is hidden in your right hand. The one you’re holding behind your back.”
    Uncle Jasper had also taught Addison about confidence games.
    Guadalupe frowned. “I see you’ve played this game before.”
    â€œWe’re from New York,” Molly explained, taking her place next to Addison, who gathered up his money.
    Guadalupe nodded. “We don’t get many tourists. The only famous things to see in Olvidados are the cathedral, the llama farm, and the giant pile of rubber