“What’s so funny?” Kane asked, but he guessed what had made Ridley laugh and tried hard to stifle his own. But the humour was soon lost among the ancient stones. Whether there was still gold somewhere nearby didn’t matter now. What mattered was the armed and dangerous criminals coming their way who believed there was.

  He took Ridley’s hands and led her behind the cover of a wall. “Look, Alex, we don’t know the truth about the gold, and if it’s here or not, or even if it ever was. But for now let’s assume that it is. Yupanqui, De La Cruz and the others, they are all coming here with only one thought: to get the gold. For now Yupanqui has control, but we don’t know where Hooper is and we have to be cautious. And there’s… there is something I haven’t mentioned yet.” Kane paused, choosing his words with care.

  “Well, what is it?” asked Ridley, concern lining her face.

  “I believe that not only do the terrorist groups want to claim the gold for themselves, but… but that they’re both planning to make an example to their enemy by way of a ceremonial event.”

  Ridley didn’t quite understand Kane’s somewhat cryptic words. “I’m sorry. A ceremony?”

  “I think there’s going to be… well, I believe there’ll be sacrifices.” Kane’s usually stoic face had a look of weariness and concern the likes of which Ridley had never seen on him before. This was heavy stuff. He continued. “And by sacrifices, I mean that if Yupanqui prevails then I’m sure the Catholics will be killed in some barbaric Incan sacrificial ritual. Likewise, if the Catholics somehow succeed we can be sure they won’t leave the mountains without their own form of justice. In a nutshell,” said Kane, his eyes full of despair, “there will be blood. Some might argue men prepared to kill for their faith deserve to die, but I don’t believe that. What they deserve is justice, and that justice should be administered by government, not some mountain court with no witnesses. We simply must stop them.”

  A Selfless Act

  With stealth, Kane and Ridley advanced deeper into the complex, ducking low and crawling alongside walls when possible. They knew that sooner or later Yupanqui and the others would arrive, but Kane also knew there were more entry points into Vilcabamba, so they couldn’t know from which direction Yupanqui would enter the old city. Thus, the need to stay vigilant was paramount, and with no real plan Kane had to keep them out of sight until they had one.

  He scanned the area for some kind of vantage point. See without being seen, that was the idea, but he soon realised it was almost impossible. He considered climbing a tree just beyond the central plaza, but that would just limit the range of his view to the immediate vicinity. They continued on, mixed emotions tugging at Kane’s heart. From a historical and archaeological point of view, to learn that Vilcabamba was more vast than he’d ever imagined was amazing. But with their lives in the balance, it was bad news.

  Ridley tugged at Kane’s shirt, and on a hunch motioned for them to angle towards the eastern side of the city. That was where the sun was brightest, thus, it was also where the shadows were darkest. If nothing else, they would be out of the more open central area and could stay more or less concealed.

  Without warning Ridley’s heart rate quickened. She hadn’t seen or heard anything, but had felt with cold certainty the pending inevitability of danger. It’s just adrenalin, she told herself, and that was good. It’ll keep me alert.

  Then a noise, like a snapping twig. Am I hearing things? Kane had not flinched. Probably nothing.

  Sonco’s senses piqued at the sharp crunch of a breaking twig, followed by silence. He listened with intent, his sensitive ears finely tuned to the subtle differences of the mountains and jungle, but he heard nothing more. With strong arms Sonco squeezed tight up against a stone wall and sat still and quiet as possible. He closed his eyes and listened. There it was, that crunchy sound again, though this time more muffled, as if it were someone edging away from him. Who or what is that?

  Sonco decided to follow, to trust in the skills he’d learned as a kid hunting rabbits to remain unheard by whoever was nearby. He stood and moved forward with the skill of a soldier, and despite his solidity and strength, was somehow graceful in his actions. A sudden soft noise made him pause. A voice?

  Si. Yes, he was certain. A knot of anxiety tightened in his gut. Something was wrong. He moved on now, sure that someone or something was just a little ahead of him. And then he heard the telltale sound of a cough, quiet though, as if deliberately stifled. Someone. And then, to his horror, Sonco heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. He gritted his teeth, blood hammering in his temples, and prepared to make his move.

  The brave Quechuan ignored the chance the bullet could be for him, more concerned it was intended for his unseen friends. With a deep breath Sonco surged forward, just in time to see a porter pointing a gun at the oblivious Kane. Sonco didn’t hesitate and launched himself at the kid the exact moment he squeezed the trigger.

  At the shocking sound of the fired pistol, Kane and Ridley flung themselves behind the nearest wall, slamming into the unforgiving stone with a thud. “Are you hit?” Kane shouted.

  Ridley groaned. After a quick once over, she replied, “No… no, I’m good.”

  “Stay down.” Kane checked himself. He wasn’t hit, just scratches from the ragged ground. “That was a gunshot, right? Fuck. Fuck!”

  “No shit,” yelled Ridley. “Came from behind us, I think. Can’t be sure.”

  Crouched low against the wall, they heard the distinctive moan of a man in pain. It wasn’t far away. Someone was hit, and with horror Kane thought he recognised the deepness in that voice. No. It can’t be! After a cautious peek around the stones, he saw neither friend nor foe, and despite the risk of further shots he moved towards the sound. With cold certainty, Kane knew who he would find.

  Sonco sat with his back against a wall, legs drawn up and one arm folded against his chest. The pain was intense. At his feet was the crumpled body of the Quechuan boy, breathing but unconscious, a deep gash across his forehead where he’d smashed into the wall after Sonco pummelled him from the side. He was hurt, badly. But the kid would live.

  But Sonco was fading, the blood loss from the bullet wound a constant stream. The shot had entered his right arm on the inside of his bicep, passed clean through, and left a gaping exit wound. What seemed like minutes was only thirty seconds, but Sonco knew that if he didn’t get help soon he would be in trouble. He tried to call out, but only managed a dry moan because of the pain. He had somehow broken at least two ribs in the collision.

  Kane was close, the sounds coming from just behind the wall. He moved quicker now, the fear of being shot cast aside in a desperate bid to see if his worst fears were true.

  He turned the last corner, and those fears slammed home.

  “Sonco! What the—?”

  Sonco’s eyes cracked open, just enough to see his old friend, and he forced a smile. But the smile faded, and his face scrunched beneath a wave of pain. He tried to speak, but only managed a croaky “Hiram.”

  “Don’t speak,” whispered Kane, then looked down at the kid at his feet. He appeared to be no more than eighteen years old though his dirty face was worn of all innocence. He had been persuaded by Yupanqui, corrupted even, to carry out his violent orders, and now he himself was hurt. Kane unclamped the gun from the kid’s hands and placed it in Sonco’s. Glancing about it seemed they weren’t in further immediate danger, and Kane called out to Ridley. “Alex, come over here. It’s safe. It’s… Sonco’s shot. Bring the packs.”

  Kane hoped that the simple first aid kit in his bag would be enough to stem the profusion of blood streaming from his friend’s arm, as a shaken Ridley arrived and sprang into action. She ripped out the kit and found a bottle of iodine, then tore off Sonco’s sleeve and doused a generous splash over the wound. Sonco winced, but the brave Quechuan didn’t cry out. Too brave for your own good, thought Kane.

  Within a minute Ridley had cleaned the wound and tied a tight tourniquet just above the elbow. “I think you’ll live,” she said with a smile, though she wasn’t a nurse and feared that without professional treatment, Sonco was in serious trouble.

  Kane cursed. He had a professional medical kit with the main baggage, but in their haste to escape he had left it behind. It contained pain medication and shots of antibiotics, just what Sonco needed now. He kept his annoyance and concern to himself. “Looking good, old friend.”

  After a few gulps of water Sonco seemed to relax, the worst of the pain eased to an uncomfortable ache. “Gracias, Alex,” he said, “Thanks.” He looked at Kane for long seconds, his emotion clear, and a single tear slipped down his ochre brown cheek. With obvious shame, he whispered, “Lo siento, Hiram. I am sorry.”

  Kane placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Sorry for what?” he said, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Sonco, you just saved our lives. You shouldn’t be sorry for anything, you hear me?”

  “No. You are wrong. I am sorry for leaving, and I am sorry for my weakness. I should not have deserted you.”

  “You didn’t desert us. You left to protect your family. And it was the right thing to do. But you came back, and you saved our lives. We should thank you, Sonco. From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you.”

  At Sonco’s feet the young kid stirred, and sat up, unsure of where or even who he was. He had suffered significant concussion and looked weak and vulnerable. Feeling better himself, Sonco saw his chance.

  “¿Iman sutiyki?” he asked in their native Quechuan. What is your name?

  The boy looked at Sonco, confused and scared. “Julio-n sutiy?” My name is Julio.

  “Why do you have a gun? Who do you want to hurt?” Now the boy looked bewildered, shocked to see the gun in Sonco’s hands. “This was yours.”

  “I do not want to hurt anyone.” His lip trembled, distraught to learn he might have hurt or killed someone. “Did I… Is anyone hurt?” It was clear he remembered nothing of what he had done.

  In reality, one of Yupanqui’s scouts had spotted Kane and Ridley from afar, and this boy–Julio–was ordered to sneak up and hold them at gunpoint. He wasn’t supposed to shoot them unless he had to, but when Sonco charged him the gun fired by accident and almost killed Sonco. Lucky for both of them the bullet only struck his arm.

  Sonco wasn’t angry with the boy and seized the moment to bring him back on side. “Julio, you hurt no one. It was an accident. You are a good boy, and you will help us now. Can you do that? Can you help us? I will tell your family what a brave man you are.”

  The boy’s face brightened. He nodded, and the flicker of a smile widened his eyes.

  Kane took over, and spoke to the boy in broken Quechuan. “Where is Yupanqui now? Where did they go?” he asked.

  The boy tried to explain with Sonco’s help, but still rattled and confused he couldn’t tell them much. One thing they all knew was that everyone on that mountain and across the valley must have heard the gunshot and were headed towards them at that very moment.

  It was clear they had little time and needed to act fast, but Sonco was weakened by injury, and though his life was not in immediate danger his wounds restricted his movement.

  “I think you should stay here with the kid,” urged Kane. “Stay hidden, and we will get you when this is all over.”

  The resilient Quechuan smiled and struggled to his feet. “No. Do not even think about it, Hiram. This is my fight too, maybe more than yours. Yupanqui is my countryman, and though I believe in some of his words, I will not allow him to kill people in the name of the Incas. He must be stopped. I will stop him.”

  Kane had known Sonco long enough to know any objection was futile. If he had decided, it would be done, no matter what anyone else thought. He also knew Sonco was hurting from more than just his injury. He suffered emotional torment for what he thought was a betrayal of his friend’s trust. Kane himself thought it was ridiculous, but Sonco was a proud man and if he felt that way, then nothing Kane could say would change his mind. Besides, a determined Sonco Amaru was a formidable ally, and Kane was one hundred times more confident about the outcome of this drama with his old friend by his side.

  Scanning the surrounding area, they set off for a better location, but had only taken a few steps when a wild scream reverberated around the old stone walls of Vilcabamba, stopping them in their tracks. The awful, piercing howl was shocking enough, but the following unearthly silence rose the hairs on the back of their necks.

  “What the hell just happened?” whispered a panicked Ridley.

  “That was Kate Edgewood, no doubt about it,” said Kane, as Ridley clutched her arms around her chest.

  Sonco looked Kane hard in the eyes with a fierce determination narrowing his own. “I am sorry I left you, Hiram. I promise it will not happen again.”

  Kane was about to protest again but Sonco’s raised hand silenced him. “Two things will happen today. First, we will find Yupanqui and we will take him out. He is a disgrace to the Inca. We must stop him spilling blood in the name of the Gods. After that, we will control the Catholics and take them to the city. There they will face their justice.”

  Kane nodded, emboldened by Sonco’s emphatic assertions. However, he noticed Sonco made no mention of the gold. Curious, he asked.

  “How about the gold, old friend? Don’t you want to make sure it ends up with your people?”

  Sonco smiled. It was the patient smile of a man who knew more than he was prepared to say. But Kane thought he understood. He believed that his recent hunch was probably right, his inkling that for many decades the legendary hoard of Atahualpa’s gold was already gone. He now believed it was something Sonco had always known.

  He smiled ruefully, knowing the moment that secret got out, if true, was the moment the livelihoods of many Quechuans, including Sonco, would die. With no gold to find, there would be nothing for greedy adventurers to look for, thus nobody going on expeditions that locals such as Sonco could guide. Based upon that, the secret simply had to remain.

  Then a thought came to Kane. Had my grandfather known this all along? He suddenly felt foolish. Of course he had. It was never about the gold for people like Patrick or the elder Hiram Kane. Shit, it was never about the gold for me, he muttered.

  For men like the Kane’s it was about the discovery of long lost places, the hunt for cities unseen for centuries and reclaimed by nature. He laughed to himself and drew curious looks from those around him.

  “Care to share?” asked Ridley.

  “Let’s just say,” replied Kane, “that there will be many, many disappointed people come the end of the day.”

  Sacrifice

  Yupanqui Atoc stood tall and proud as the young Quechuans dragged the broken body of Howie Hooper to the centre of the clearing. They forced Hooper to his knees and shoved him forward onto all fours. Yupanqui nodded. It was time.

  Yupanqui motioned to one boy, who hustled out of sight. He was gone no more than a minute, and when he returned he was carrying a large sack. The boy was struggling beneath the weight of it as he placed it at Yupanqui’s feet and backed away.

  If Haines wasn’t mistaken, something was moving inside it. What the hell?

  Yupanqui crouched down beside the sack and withdrew a knife from his pocket, carefully cutting through the twine that held the sack closed. He slowly reached inside, then stood up, his hand still inside the sack. With caution, he slid the sack away to reveal something so surprising it left everyone stunned.

  Perched on Yupanqui’s arm was a condor. An actual, living, breathing condor. And it was massive. Like Hooper, it too was bound, its enormous wings strapped to its body and its jaw clamped shut. And it looked neither happy nor healthy, as if captured against its will and suffering for many days. It struggled on Yupanqui’s arm, but because of its bonds it was futile, and eventually it settled down and fell still. Yupanqui addressed the small, shocked crowd.

  “You may or may not know that the condor has always played an important role in Inca customs and traditions. Professor Haines, I’m sure you know of the Yawar Fiesta?” Haines just stared back at Yupanqui, expressionless. Inside, he feared the worst.

  “Well, that festival dates back to the time when those heathen Spanish criminals decimated our lands and lifestyle. You are probably wondering what I will do with this magnificent bird, an iconic symbol of our empire, known as Tawantinsuyu, the four corners of the Inca empire. Let me show you.”

  He walked over to Hooper, whose eyes were wide with alarm. Yupanqui swung a vicious kick into his ribs, and through his gag Hooper growled in agony and slumped to the ground, his strength to resist depleted. Yupanqui pointed down at Hooper.

  “This animal here is the bull, and represents the disgusting Spaniards. The mighty condor, he represents the indigenous population, the Incan people. During the celebration we tie the condor to the bull’s back and watch as it attacks with its beak while the bull tries to escape. It is a wonderful moment when the condor triumphs over the bull. Shall we see?”

  Yupanqui placed the enormous bird on Hooper’s back, forcing its claws around a rope that encircled his body. With a couple of deft knots, the condor was attached. Next, Yupanqui grabbed the bird by its neck and yanked off the bond from its lethal looking beak. With his free hand he cut through the strapping that pinned its wings. Then Yupanqui leapt back, and what happened next was gruesome.

  The enormous bird, its wingspan close to eight feet, flapped those wings in a desperate attempt to flee, but with each flap became more and more enraged. His claws ripped into Hooper’s flesh and Hooper thrashed about, trying frantically to shake free of the bird. That only maddened the condor further and knowing it couldn’t escape it attacked Hooper’s body with its razor sharp beak. It jabbed and pecked and tore, and within seconds Hooper’s back was shredded.