My sister was molested in that slum, my father and mother beaten and robbed. The robbers even broke my father's fingers, so that he could no longer fashion stone. He was left to beg—to beg for scraps to feed his family. I have no grudge against my own punishment, no grudge at all, but then I also have no loyalty whatsoever to the society that punished my family for a crime that was mine and mine alone.'
'I am sorry' said Renco softly. “I did not know of these incidents. But please, Bassario, the idol, the Spirit of the People '
'It is your quest, Renco. Not mine. I have done enough for you, more than enough. I think I have earned my freedom.
Follow your own destiny and allow me to follow mine.'
And with those sharp words, Bassario shouldered his longbow and climbed down into the quenko and disappeared into the darkness.
Renco did not attempt to stop him. He just looked after him, his face awash with sadness.
Now it was that the rest of us were all prepared for our con frontation with the rapas. All that remained was one final touch.
I picked up the small bladder of monkey urine that the toothless old man had given to me earlier that night and opened its cap.
At once, an utterly vile odour assaulted my olfactory pas sages. I winced at the odour and despaired at the prospect of pouring the foul-smelling liquid over my body.
But I did so nonetheless. And oh, how putrid it was! It was no wonder the rapas detested it.
Renco chuckled at my discomfiture. Then he took the small bladder from me and began dousing himself in the stinking yellow liquid. The bladder was passed to the other warriors who would be venturing up into the mountains and the too, began bathing themselves in the foul, reeking liquid.
As all was approaching readiness, Lena returned with a much larger animal bladder—a llama's bladder, I guessed— also filled with liquid.
'The rainwater you requested,' said she to Renco.
'Good,' Renco said, taking the llama's bladder from her.
'Then we are ready to go.”
Renco poured a trickle of rainwater from the llama's bladder over the real idol.
It hummed to life instantly, singing its melodious song.
The interior of the citadel was empty. Lena had already sent the women, children and old folk of the village down into the quenko to commence their journey into its labyrinthine tunnels, a journey that would ultimately take them to the waterfall at the edge of the tableland. Lena herself had stayed behind in the citadel, ready to shut the doorstone after us.
'All right,' said Renco, nodding to the pair of Incan warriors manning the doorstone. 'Now.'
At that moment, the two Incan warriors rolled the big stone aside, revealing the dark night outside.
The rapas were right there!
Waiting for us.
Gathered in a wide circle immediately outside the citadel's stone doorframe.
I counted twelve of them—twelve enormous black cats, each possessed of demonic yellow eyes, high pointed ears and powerful muscular shoulders.
Renco held the singing idol out in front of him and the rapas stared at it, transfixed.
Then, abruptly, the idol stopped its singing and equally suddenly, the rapas broke out of their trances and started a low growling.
Renco quickly doused the idol with more water from the llama's bladder and the idol's song resumed and the rapas lapsed into their hypnosis once again.
My heart also started beating again.
Then, with the idol in his hands and the seven Incan war riors and myself in tow behind him, Renco stepped through the citadel's doorway and out into the cold night air.
The rain had stopped—at long last—and the clouds had parted somewhat, revealing the starry night sky and a brilliant full moon.
With flaming torches held high above our heads, we made our way through the village and onto a narrow path that ran alongside the river.
The rapas were all around us, moving with slow, deliberate steps, keeping their bodies low to the ground while at the same time keeping their eyes fixed on the singing idol in Renco's hands.
My fear was extreme. Nay, it must be said that I have never been more terrified in my life.
To be surrounded by a pack of such enormous, dangerous creatures, creatures totally devoid of pity or mercy, creatures that killed without the slightest hesitation.
They were so big! In the flickering firelight of our torches the muscles on their shoulders and flanks rippled orange.
Their breathing was loud too—a kind of deep-chested braying sound not unlike that of a horse.
As we walked along the riverside path, I looked behind me and saw Lena standing at the edge of the village holding a torch, watching after us.
