pour out its contents.
'What is it?' I inquired.
'It is monkey urine,' said the old man keenly.
'Monkey urine,“ said I and flatly.
'It will protect you against the rapa,' said the old man.
'Remember, the rapa is a cat, and like all cats, it is a most vain creature. According to the tribes of this region, there are some liquids that the rapa despises with a fury. Liquids which, if smeared all over one's body, will frighten off the rapa.'
I smiled weakly at the old man. It was, after all, the first time I had ever been given the excrement of a jungle animal as a token of appreciation.
“Thank you,” said I. 'Such a… wonderful... gift.“
The old man seemed terribly pleased by my response and so he said, 'Then I should like to provide you with another.'
I endeavoured to beg off his generosity—lest he give me another variety of animal discharge. But his second gift was not of the physical kind.
'I would like to share with you a secret,' said he.
'And what secret is that?'
'If ever you need to escape from this village, enter the quenko and take the third tunnel on the right-hand side.
From there, alternate left then right, taking the fist tunnel you see every time, but make sure you go to the left first.
The quenko will take you to the waterfall overlooking the vast wetland forests. The secret to the labyrinth is simple, one only has to know where to begin. Trust me, young gold- eater, and mark these gifts. They could save your life.'
Refreshed by my slumber, I wandered up onto the roof of the citadel once again.
There I found Renco, nobly keeping his vigil. He must have been supremely fatigued, but he did not betray any such weariness. He just stared vigilantly out over the main street of the town, oblivious to the veil of rain that landed lightly on the crown of his head. I arrived at his side wordlessly and followed his gaze out over the village.
Aside from the rain, nothing moved.
Nay, nothing made a sound.
The eerie stillness of the village was haunting.
When he spoke, Renco didn't turn to face me. 'Vilcafor says he opened the temple in daylight. Then he sent five of his finest warriors into it to find Solon's treasure. They never returned. It was only with the onset of night that the rapas emerged from within the temple.'
'Are they out there now?' I inquired fearfully.
'I they are, then I have been unable to see them.'
I looked at Renco. His eyes were red and he had large bags beneath both of them.
'My friend,' I said gently, 'you must sleep. You have to retain your strength, especially if my countrymen find this town. Sleep now, I shall keep the vigil, and I shall wake you if I see anything.'
Renco nodded slowly. 'As usual, you are right, Alberto. Thank you.'
And with that he went inside and I found myself stand ing alone on the roof of the citadel, alone in the night.
Nothing stirred in the village below me.
It happened about an hour into my watch.
I had been watching the tiny wavelets of the river, glistening silver in the moonlight, when suddenly a small raft floated into view. I spied three figures standing on the deck of the small vessel, dark shadows in the night.
My blood ran cold.
Hernando's men…
I was about to run to get Renco when the raft pulled alongside the village's small wooden jetty and its passengers stepped up onto the wharf and I garnered a better look at them.
My shoulders sank with relief.
They were not conquistadors.
They were Incans.
A man—dressed in the traditional attire of an Incan warrior—and a woman with a small child, all of them covered against the rain by hoods and cloaks.
The three figures walked slowly up the main street, staring in awe at the carnage that littered the muddy road around them.
And then I saw it.
At first I thought it was just the shadow of a swaying branch cast onto the side of one of the huts that lined
