The ripples grew wild, splitting the ground and tearing up trees unmoved for decades, even centuries. Incan walls that had stood for hundreds of years crumbled like Lego, their massive size and weight irrelevant to Pachamama’s wrath.

  Sonco feared the worst for Kane, so close to the unstable cliff edge. Unseen, he struggled closer to the boy, edging behind them and ready to grab them if they fell. It was more when than if.

  And then it happened.

  The enemies faced each other, the big Incan calm, his control of the situation total, and the older, weakened Catholic a spent force. He had tried his best to kill the heathen. He had tried, and he had failed.

  Breathing deep, with his body beaten and all energy gone, Angelo De La Cruz glared at his rival. He knew there were only two choices left open to him: allow himself to be sacrificed, or jump to a sinful death. Either way, his mentor Ferdinand would never learn of his valiant attempt to kill the Incan. The world would forget him. History did not remember nobodies. The shame was agonising.

  There was only one thing for it…

  Yupanqui took a step forward, eyes focused only on the Spaniard. This was his moment. He would sacrifice the leader of the enemy, and the ancient prophecy would be fulfilled. He, Yupanqui Atoc, would become Sapa Inca, and all the world would come to know it.

  Yupanqui grabbed a nearby paddle and raised it above his head. Eyes closed, he muttered a prayer to Pachamama.

  And then she did her thing.

  The ground shook with such complete violence that another six feet of cliff edge crumbled away, and the last thing Yupanqui and De la Cruz saw as they fell to their deaths were the glaring eyes of the enemy.

  Out of sheer shock and total panic, the kid shoved Kane forwards with all his strength, inches from death himself, and it was impossible to keep their balance with the ground shifting in such aggressive spasms. Kane teetered, the boy shoving and grabbing at the same time, and in the instant Kane thought he might make it, and a quarter of a second before Sonco grabbed his arm, they tumbled over the edge.

  Hiram Kane was gone.

  Fallen

  Sonco fell to his knees.

  Hiram Kane was dead, and it was his fault. He had let his friend down again, and now Hiram was gone. Forever gone. In those first few seconds it took all of Sonco’s effort of will not to throw himself over the edge too, such was the weight of his despair. But thoughts of his family pulled him away from the edge, and he laid on his back, oblivious to the bucking ground.

  The poor young Quechuan kid had died too, too young and brainwashed to know what he was dying for. He was barely sixteen, and now he was dead. Sonco had failed him, and he had failed his people. The magnitude of his failures broke Sonco Amaru’s heart.

  Several minutes passed, and at last the power of the quake lessened, until, after a few more shallow, shimmering ripples, it ceased altogether.

  Ridley, Craft, and Haines stood and checked themselves over, amazed to learn they were more or less unhurt. Banged up, maybe, and covered in cuts and bruises. But considering what they had just experienced they were in good shape. Small wonders, thought the old professor who had a distinctively ominous feeling about things. He wasn’t quite sure what it was he felt, but the odious thoughts wouldn’t leave him.

  They had all seen Kane and Sonco head off after Yupanqui and De La Cruz, and began their own search for their friends. The tremendously altered landscape now meant a somewhat easier passage through the devastated city, and in just a few minutes they emerged out onto the new cliff edge. As one they gasped, because the view that greeted them was stunning. The valley spread out before them, and the sun shimmered across the distant peaks. It was beautiful, and for just a few seconds the three of them basked in that beauty.

  And then they saw Sonco, and Professor Haine’s heart skipped several beats.

  Sonco sat near the edge of the newly formed cliff, a little too near, thought Ridley, and they hurried over to him. The usually stoic Quechuan clutched his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped tight around his legs. It was almost inexplicable to Alex, but Sonco was crying. She knelt beside him, a knot tightening her guts.

  “Sonco? What is it? Are you hurt?”

  There was no response from the sturdy guide, and his tears continued, painfully unabashed. Sonco could not look her in the eye, and a hollow feeling settled in her stomach. John Haines stepped forward, followed by Craft. They looked from one to another, and all three feared the worst.

  “Sonco, dammit, where’s Hiram?” demanded Haines.

  Still no response.

  “Where the hell’s my friend?” cried Evan as he grabbed Sonco’s shoulder.

  And then, in a moment that simultaneously shattered three hearts, Sonco pointed over the edge.

  It was as if the air was forced from his lungs. “No!” was all Evan could manage. He flung himself to the ground and looked over the side, nausea threatening to take over. His eyes darted right and left, searching for any sign of his friend, but he saw nothing. Not a trace. It was at least a thousand foot vertical drop to where the cliff sloped, and another thousand to the valley floor. No one could survive it.

  When Evan’s forehead dropped to the ground, Ridley’s legs buckled. She knew the truth, felt it in her bones. Kane was gone. Her soulmate, the only man she'd ever loved, was dead. Ridley didn’t cry. She was in shock, and had lost loved ones before. She sat on the floor, and like Sonco wrapped herself in her arms. John Haines took a seat beside her and draped an arm around her shoulder. There was nothing he could say, to Ridley or to any of them.

  The man they all loved was dead.

  Suddenly Evan’s head jerked up again. It was so silent around them now that the sudden movement startled Ridley. Evan shuffled along the cliff a few yards, arching his neck out over the void. Some sound, a noise from beyond the reach of his view, had caught his attention, and through tears he scanned the cliff face. When, after a minute’s silence, he looked back over his shoulder at the others, their eyes widened in shock. Evan was smiling. But the smile lasted only a second, and when he spoke, it was with authority. “We need to move. Now.”

  Fifty feet below the edge of the cliff, Hiram Kane clung on to the exposed roots of a fallen tree as if his life depended on it. It did, and not only his. Clinging to his legs was the young Quechuan, just a few strands of cloth from certain death. It mattered nothing to Kane that the kid had held a gun on him moments before. He would save the boy, or he would die trying. But his strength had sapped, and he couldn’t hold on much longer

  Kane looked up, trying to locate something more sturdy to grab. He saw a thick, gnarled root five feet above his head, but beyond that, he saw something altogether more shocking; the face of his oldest friend.

  “Hold on,” Evan shouted, “We’re finding rope.”

  Relief flooded through him, but it was short lived. The terrified kid struggled, each movement weakening Kane’s grip on the roots. “Mana wichay.” No climb. “Manaraq!” Not yet! The boy seemed to calm a little but clung tighter still to Kane.

  “It will be okay,” he said to the youngster. “Just a little more time. We can do it. Kay sinchi.” Be strong.

  The boy’s shame was evident in his falling tears. Sixteen years old at most, yet the kid had experienced more drama in a few days than many would in several lifetimes. His grip was strong, so strong in fact that he was endangering them both. Suddenly the tree roots slipped a few inches, jerking them down the cliff another foot. They barely held on. Kane had lost his kid brother many years ago. He had made mistakes that day, but he wasn’t making one now. He would not let this kid fall to his death.

  Kane looked up and shouted to his friend. “I can’t hold on much longer. Five minutes tops. Hurry.”

  “You do like to make things difficult,” came the sarcastic reply, but if there was one person Kane wanted coming to his rescue it was Evan. The two had been best mates for almost three decades and would do anything to save each other. Not in their wildest dreams, though, had they ever imagined a scenario like this.

  With extreme caution, Evan lowered himself over the edge, and slowly, one hand after another, he lowered himself down the rope. Evan wanted an adventure. But this was further out of his comfort zone than he ever wanted. They secured the rope above through a combination of Sonco and Ridley, and the sturdy trunk of a polyepis tree, one of the last still standing. Hoping with all his heart that the earthquake had finished, Evan descended, inch by inch, foot by foot, until he closed in on Kane and the kid.

  “Almost there,” he shouted, and his confidence grew.

  The boy was flagging, and so was Kane, their exhaustion threatening to send them to their deaths. Kane glanced about, frantic to find anything that could help, and he saw a thicker root, tantalisingly close but a yard out of reach. If he could just grab hold of that, then he knew they could survive, but if he let go with one hand he would not have the strength to hold both their weights with the other. He gripped with every last ounce of his energy and waited for Evan.

  After what seemed like endless minutes, Evan was at last within reach. “Listen. I’m going to rest my feet on this small ledge, and attach myself to this large root. Once secure, I’ll hand you the rope. Can you let go with one hand to grab it?”

  “I don’t know,” Kane sputtered through laboured breaths, the veins on his forehead bulging from the strain. His arms shook, exhaustion winning the battle. He was seconds from falling. “The kid’s finished,” he gasped. “But I will... not... watch another die. The rope. Now!”

  Secured to the tree root Evan lowered the rope for Kane. He took a few deep breaths, focused his mind, and mustering the very last reserves of his strength he took a glance down at the terrified face of the kid below.

  But it wasn’t the Quechuan boy that looked back at Hiram, but his missing brother Danny. The complete shock of it almost cost Kane his life. He blinked, the tears immediate, and blinked again. Save me, the face pleaded, please save me. Kane shook his head. He knew that shock and altitude and stress and a million other things had caused him to see his brother rather than the boy.

  Kane had never accepted the disappearance of his brother, and despite the protestations of his family, excluding his father, Hiram had always blamed himself. But seeing the image of Danny now changed something. It galvanised him, gave him strength.

  He would not let this kid die.

  Kane braced himself hard against the cliff face, and summoning all his will and strength, he let go of the root with his right hand and reached for the life-saving rope.

  He missed.

  The momentum of the swing forced them away from the cliff, and they almost fell. But gravity somehow forced them back to the cliff in time to clasp the first root. Kane gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He swung again, this time with a desperate lunge, and he snagged the rope. Okay, he thought. Almost. “Hold on, Danny,” he shouted.

  Just a few feet above, Evan froze. Did he say Danny? But it took him only two seconds to understand Kane’s inspiration.

  Kane lowered himself and ordered the boy to scramble up over his body. Now side by side, with supreme effort Kane fixed the rope around the boy’s waist. A minute later, with the help of the combined efforts above, Evan clambered up the cliff, the tearful frightened boy right behind. Five minutes later Sonco was hauling Evan and the kid over the edge. To safety.

  Kane breathed in deep, the effects of such physical exertion in the thin air almost beating him. But the image of his brother’s face was still fresh. The illusion had seemed so real, so painfully real. But as he perched there, high above a valley in the ancient Andes Mountains, his imminent death still a possibility, Kane understood why his brother had appeared. Not, as he’d first thought, to inspire him to save the kid.

  There was another reason. Danny was there to save Hiram’s life.

  His appearance in Kane’s sub-conscience was to inspire Hiram to save himself, and in doing so, Danny had lifted thirty years of guilt from his brother’s shoulders.

  With this revelation came tears, tears that he had dammed for most of his life, and he gazed through those tears into the beautiful valley before him and knew he had to survive.

  So this was it. Two innocent young Quechuans boys were dead, and Kane knew he would mourn their unnecessary deaths forever. He would visit their families, and with Sonco’s help, do what he could to make amends.

  The Pachacuti, the self-proclaimed Inca leader Yupanqui, was dead, and with him gone, Kane hoped the misguided Inca Uprising would die too. There was no doubt Peru needed to see changes, social reforms long overdue, but a violent movement was not the way to do it.

  Also dead were Angelo De La Cruz and Howie Hooper. They were terrorists… they would not be missed. Maybe the Eagle Alliance would die too, though he doubted it. There would always be radical fundamentalists in all religions.

  So many others had almost lost their lives too. Muddy Waters had not one but two narrow escapes. Kate Edgewood was seconds from becoming an Incan sacrifice. Umaq Huamani, the brave young kid who had saved her life. Evan had been shot, and risked his own life to save Hiram. The young Quechuan kid they had just saved. So many close to death. Too many.

  And Hiram himself. It was the closest he had ever been to dying, and there had been many near misses over the years. He knew he had been lucky.

  “Thank you,” he whispered out into the void. “Thank you.” He thanked Evan and the others for saving his life. He thanked Sonco for coming back, and for stopping a bullet meant for him. “Sulpaikee,” he said, thanking Pachamama for her rage, though he would keep that thought to himself.

  And last, but most important, he thanked his brother Danny. Not only for giving him the strength to save the kid, but for freeing him from the burden of guilt he had carried alone for so long. For too long.

  Thank you.

  Kane prepared himself for the final climb to safety. The sun appeared from behind the clouds for the first time in that most dramatic of days, and as he thought of the Sun God, Inti, and felt grateful for its warmth, he noticed his golden sun disc glinting outside of the neck of his shirt.

  Hiram smiled. The gold.

  Perhaps they would never know the truth about the gold. Perhaps, he thought, that was for the best. He swivelled to face the cliff and made his first careful move up the ropes.

  Kane froze in his tracks.

  Something caught his eye. Hidden beneath the giant, twisted root of the tree he held onto was an opening in the cliff. Kane shifted his position a little, and after a short struggle leaned his head into the gap. What he saw made his heart flip several somersaults. Stretching back into the cliff was an enormous cave, so far that he could not see its end. And within that cave, illuminated by the strong afternoon sun, was the most amazing sight Hiram Kane had ever seen.

  Laid out before him, buried deep in a natural cave beneath the legendary Inca city of Vilcabamba, was the lost hoard of Atahualpa’s gold. It was revealed now only thanks to the will of the Earth Goddess, Pachamama. Kane perched in his precarious position, exhaustion forgotten, and stared at the fabled treasure for what seemed an eternity. There was no possible way into the cave from that position, but what he could see was beyond even his imagination.

  Several life-sized golden statues stood off to the left, and in front of those, three golden thrones. To the right, shimmering statues of animals sat surrounded by golden cast icons of birds and insects and jewellery of every kind; headdresses, bracelets, necklaces, and literally hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Inca Sun Discs, just like his.

  Thoughts of Danny flashed once more in his mind, as well as the faces of his beloved grandfather and great-grandfather Patrick.

  As he looked on in awe at the dazzling sight before him, the disappointed eyes of his predecessors faded into wide smiles, as decades of shame and regret transformed into happiness.

  But the last face he saw while gazing upon the gold with wonderment was that of the revered explorer, Hiram Bingham. It was Bingham who had bought the wonder and mystery of the Incas out of the Andes and to the world’s attention, and it was Hiram Bingham who had inspired in his family a lifetime of adventure and exploration.

  But Hiram Bingham had never found Vilcabamba. And it was clear now that no one had ever found Atahualpa’s lost gold.

  The long lost Inca gold.

  But Hiram Kane had.

  Kane secured his grip with his left hand, and with his right grabbed the Sun Disc. He lifted the leather necklace over his head and held it out in front of his eyes. Kane stared at the tiny yet beautiful object, his most prized possession, for many seconds. Finally, he placed it against his lips, then said, “For you, Danny. And forever.” He placed the disc into the cave’s narrow entrance, and at last turned his eyes from the magnificence before him.

  Looking back out at the equally spectacular valley it took him only a second to make a difficult but momentous decision…

  The location of the lost Inca gold was a secret Kane would keep to himself.

  Kane looked up to find Alex Ridley’s beautiful face looking down at him. Then he spotted Evan, grinning like the cat who’d just found the golden cream. Professor Haines waved, and one by one all the remaining people at Vilcabamba smiled down at Hiram from above. It was Ridley who broke the silence.

  “Everything okay down there, Mr Kane?” asked Ridley, who couldn’t hide the expectant look on her face. “What’s going on?” She knew Kane and recognised that look on his face. He’d seen something down there, she was sure of it.

  Kane grinned back but said nothing, lowering his face and focusing on his footing before beginning the difficult task of hauling himself to the top of the newly formed cliff.

  “Come on mate, almost there,” called down Evan, awash with relief that this was almost over. “Trust you to be last. Old habits die hard, eh?” Banter aside, Evan couldn’t hide his pride and relief at the way his best pal had handled what had been a traumatic and unimaginable series of events. A tear crept into the corner of his eye as he reached over the edge to help Kane scramble to safety.