Into the Yucatan - a new lead

Friday, 17th January 1936

Dear Father,

We landed in Mexico City as the sun began to sank behind the horizon. We checked into what we hoped was a discreet hotel (Hotel Regis). The architecture is mostly of the Spanish colonial era, and distracts from the historical origins of the city (which as we know was built on an old lake, a haven for Aztecs). The city is growing and cosmopolitan, and not unfamiliar from my trip a few years past.

We spend the evening acquainting ourselves with our surroundings, including poring over a local map. We manage to locate the address for the post office box, several libraries, and even find the location of Luz Discos in a nearby district.

Today we divided up to delve into our research. The museum turned up naught but the usual antiquities. Otto, however, came across a curious book titled Into the Yucatan Peninsula. Written by Dr Arthur Cartwright, whose work I have read before, the explorer claims to have stumbled on some sizable and remarkable ruins in 1846 which he named Chichen Xoxul (Xoxul meaning outcast or pariah).

The use of Chichen, however, strikes me in particular - commonly translated "at the mouth of the world", usually signifying a well, or a drop of some sort. Even in its contemporary era, the area would have been secretive and remote. In the pages of his book, he speaks of black stones, and a temple dedicated to sorcery. We very definitely need to explore this place further. We know there is a cult here in Mexico City, but in Chichen Xoxul we may find a source of their power.

The parallel to my original trip here many years ago are eerie. You may recall, before Foster's unfortunate accident, we were exploring the area near to the Pyramid of the Magician in Uxmal. It makes me wonder what we might have discovered there. I try not to wonder whether his accident was truly an attack of nature....

My companions are equally intrigued by the possibilities of what we might discover were we to suddenly change direction. We have been very fortunate in our early research here in Mexico City, and find the idea of confronting the local cult less appealing than a trek into the jungle to learn more at what might be a source, and actually set eyes on one of these Black Stones.

So, tomorrow, I begin the task of outfitting our journey. We have given ourselves two days to acquire what supplies we need, and to read the book in its entirety, in the hopes that we might learn landmarks to seek, or warnings we might heed.

Wish us luck. I shall write to you during our venture, but they shall not be posted until our return to Mexico City.

Wilma Jane