It was Richard Cole.
LAST OF THE INCAS
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you,” Richard said. “Ever since that screw-up in Lima, I’ve been worrying that I’d never see you again and I blamed myself. But everyone’s been very kind to me. These people are… well, you’ll find out for yourself.
“And this city, Vilcabamba -” Richard shook his head in wonder – “is one of the great legends of Peru, which is to say, it’s not even meant to exist! A bit like El Dorado. A whole lot of explorers have looked but never found it. And here we are right in the middle of it! Amazing!”
Richard had taken Matt to the small stone house where he had been staying, on one of the upper terraces of the city. They were sitting in the only room, a single living space with two beds, a sofa and a multicoloured rug spread over the stone floor. Two of the walls were lined with windows. These were strangely shaped, narrower at the top than at the bottom, like cut-off triangles. Matt had seen the same design all over Cuzco. They had no glass. Nor did the room have electricity or running water. At night it would be lit by candles. The toilets and bath houses were all located on the other side of the city, by a fast-flowing stream, a tributary of the River Chamba.
The two of them had been given lunch: a large bowl of locro, a mixture of meat and vegetables somewhere between a soup and a stew. They were on their own. Pedro had gone off with Atoc – presumably to rest in one of the other houses. Matt was glad to have a bit of time with Richard. Just being with him reminded him of the ordinary life he’d once led.
Matt told his story first, beginning with his meeting with Pedro, his time at Poison Town, the escape from Salamanda’s hacienda. Then there was the journey to Cuzco, the chase through the streets at night and finally his arrival here. The two of them had been given a jug of beer – the same stuff that Matt had had in Cuzco. Richard had drunk it all by the time Matt had finished speaking.
“So this boy, Pedro, is one of the Five,” Richard said.
“Yes.”
“And you talk to him in your dreams.”
“That’s right.”
Richard sighed. “You know what really worries me? I believe you! Six months ago, if anyone had told me all this, I’d have laughed in their face.” He thought for a moment. “Does Pedro have… you know… any special powers? Can he see into the future or anything like that?”
“No. He’s very ordinary. And he doesn’t want to be involved.”
Richard’s story was more straightforward.
After he had been seized on the way from the airport, he was taken to a room in Lima where he had come face to face with his kidnappers. Matt knew who they were by now. One was Atoc. The other had been his younger brother, Micos.
“I was feeling pretty pleased with myself because you’d got away,” Richard said. “I reckoned they wouldn’t be interested in me and they’d just let me go. But then they explained to me that they were on our side. They’d tried to intercept us before we walked into a trap. The police were at the hotel.”
Matt shivered at the memory.
“Atoc and the others always knew we’d come to Peru. They were waiting for us from the very start. The trouble was, so were Salamanda and his people. The Incas had to try the kidnap thing because that was the only way they could get hold of us. Of course, they weren’t too pleased that you’d got away. In fact, they’ve been looking for you ever since. They’ve had people out all over the country. As for me, they took me by car to a private airport, then by plane to Cuzco and finally by helicopter to the middle of nowhere. Just like you. I got bitten to death in the cloud forest and I nearly threw up coming down into the canyon. Did I ever tell you that I don’t have a head for heights?”
“No.”
“Well, I’ve been here ever since. They’ve looked after me and the food’s good. But like I said, I’ve been worrying about you. I couldn’t believe it when they told me they’d found you in Cuzco. I’d love to have seen that secret passage. One day maybe you can show me. Perhaps on the way out…”
“Who are they, Richard?” It was the one thing Matt still didn’t understand. “They say this is the lost city of the Incas. But there aren’t any Incas any more, are there?”
“There aren’t meant to be. Most of them died out.” Richard lifted the jug of beer, realized it was empty and put it down again. “These people are the only survivors: the descendants of the tens of thousands killed all those years ago. And this city is like their secret headquarters. Did you notice the path along the edge of the canyon? They have a way of making it disappear after you’ve walked down it. No planes can fly over here because there are weird air currents. Nobody knows about this place apart from the people who live here – and you, me and Pedro, now that we’re their guests.”
“And they want to help us.”
“That’s right. You’ve got the Incas on the one hand, and then there’s Diego Salamanda on the other. At least this time we know who the bad guy is.”
“Why can’t they stop him?” This was something Matt didn’t understand. “They know who he is. They know where to find him…”
“What do you want them to do, Matt? Murder him?”
Matt shrugged. “It doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”
“They’d have to get to him first and he’s well protected.”
“They could go to the police.”
“He owns the police. Diego Salamanda is one of the most powerful men in Peru. What does he call his company? Salamanda News International. He should call it Salamanda International News because that would spell SIN, which sounds right to me. Salamanda’s worth millions and if he went out of business, half the country would go down with him. News, telecommunications, software… only last week he sent a fifty-million-dollar satellite into space, paid for out of his own pocket. He plays chess with the president. They do it over the telephone and Salamanda is the one who put in the phone lines.”
“If Salamanda is so rich and so successful, why does he want to open the gate? What’s in it for him?”
“I don’t know, Matt. Maybe the Old Ones can shrink his head back for him. Maybe they can give him eternal life. Why did the last lot want to open Raven’s Gate? If you ask me, they’re all mad.”
Richard fell silent. Someone had begun to play the panpipes outside the house. The notes hovered eerily in the air. Matt looked out of the window, across the canyon. He had forgotten how high up they were. The ground fell away for ever.
“You said the Incas were waiting for us,” he said. “How did they know we were coming?”
“I asked Atoc about that. I wish I could tell you that they read about it in the newspapers, but it’s a bit more complicated. The Incas know more or less everything that’s happening in Peru. They’ve got people everywhere. But there’s something else. They use magic.”
“Magic…?”
“They have these people. They call them amautas. They’re like, sort of, sorcerers… a bit like dear old Miss Ashwood. They know about the Old Ones. And they know about you. You may meet one of them later. He’s an elderly chap. I’ve spent a bit of time with him. I think he’s about a hundred and twelve.”
It took Matt a moment to absorb all this. “They knew I was coming,” he said. “But so did Salamanda. Who do you think told him?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I’m afraid it looks as if it was someone in the Nexus.”
“That would make sense. I rang Mr Fabian but the police arrived before he did.”
“Well, I don’t have any real idea, but if it was anyone, Tarrant’s the one I’d most suspect. Do you remember him? He was the policeman who gave us the false passports. That’s what caused half the trouble. Having fake passports turned us into criminals… and they were his idea.”
“So what happens now?”
Richard thought for a moment. “We have to put our trust in these people. We can’t get in touch with the
