She sat up slowly and gaped in awe. The cliff had a plato on top, invisible from the valley below because of its height. The plain sloped gently to the opposite side of the mountain, creating an almost-even landscape of bright green grass and stone structures neatly organized in a circular pattern. At the backend, the mountain was hugged by two cliffs, both higher than the one they have just climbed, sheltering the buildings in a three-breasted embrace. A pyramid, not as high as it was wide, dominated the far side of what seemed like a village. It stood on the edge of the abyss, the back of it in line with the vertical drop. There were no plants except for the grass and a lonely tree that stood next to the biggest manmade structure. If it wasn’t for her situation, Fraya would have kissed the ground she sat on. Her father would have been so proud, she thought. The lost Peruvian city. Her predictions had been accurate. The missing link in the ancient sites had been found.
It was magnificent. It was strangely intact, something Fraya had not expected. Ruins, yes. But buildings like these ... they should have long since vanished, leveled to the ground by rain and wind and erosion. The village was constructed as a kind of labyrinth, with steps leading from its far west side up to the pyramid. Half of the buildings were hidden in a thin smog of clouds, giving the place an eerie look. Then the clouds shifted, like the opening of a curtain, and Fraya drew in her breath. Smoke came from several of the buildings, which now seemed very much like houses. The village was inhabited. She almost choked on the knowledge. This was the last thing she ever suspected.
A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, shining like a spotlight on a llama that grazed a grass terrace. Fraya looked around more carefully, noticing for the first time the other signs of life–the animals, the neatly trimmed grass, the firewood stacked at the entrance of the labyrinth ... and the men coming toward them from that entrance.
If it wasn’t for the cliff behind her, she would have scurried back. Instead, Panagakos roughly pulled her to her feet and prodded her forward with his gun at her back. From the greeting Andrews offered, Fraya conduced that he was familiar with the three men who approached them in tribal wear, knee-length cloths decorated with burgundy and green painted seams. Gold rings adorned their noses, ears, necks, arms and fingers. A reclusive tribe. Fraya had read about them, but up to now the idea had seemed unreal, nothing more than a legend. The leader, judging by the feathers he wore in his long, black hair, paused a little way from the village entrance, and motioned Andrews and his party forward. Two guards, Fraya presumed, judging by their spears, flanked the stocky, short man.
Andrews and his group advanced until they stopped a few paces from the tribesmen. Upon closer inspection, Fraya saw that the chief was much older than what she had first guessed. His shoulders were straight and he exuded an air of authority and power, but his face was weathered and lined. The man on his left seemed to be a witchdoctor of some sorts. She had thought his skin was darker than that of the others, but now she noticed that he was smeared with dirt, his hair caked in mud, and around his neck he wore several bones and teeth stringed together. The younger man on the right stepped forward. The chief said something in a language that was unfamiliar, and immediately the young man said, “You have brought the sacrifice,” his eyes moving to her. In fact, all eyes now surveyed her. Panagakos pushed her forward. The chief scrunched up his face as his gaze moved over her, and then he said something again, his tone one of disdain.
“We thought she would come freely,” the young man said.
“We didn’t say how she would come,” Andrews replied, “but she’s the one. She bears the mark.” He pushed her shirt from her shoulder, revealing her birthmark. “Do you have our gold?”
Fraya suddenly realized the reason for her abduction and shivered.
“We’ve got your gold,” the man said, “but it will be given to you only when the sacrifice has been made.”
“We want it during the ceremony,” Andrews said.
The man translated to the chief, who regarded Andrews for a moment before he nodded. He conferred with the witchdoctor and when they fell silent, the man said, “Tomorrow at sunset.”
The chief stepped aside, and they were escorted to the village. Fraya saw men guarding the walls on the perimeter of the buildings, their heads and spears becoming visible through the clouds as she neared. They were taken to a house on the outskirts of the village. There was a commotion inside the labyrinth walls. People had come from their dwellings to stare at Fraya and the passing party. The men were showed inside the stone house, where a fire burned and a pot bubbled over it. Furs were thrown over two square rocks, large enough to be considered a bed, and Fraya was pushed onto one. She sat down reluctantly, watching as a woman entered and busied herself with setting out clay dishes and dishing up the broth.
Fraya turned to Andrews. “So this was the deal, me for their gold?”
Andrews chuckled. “Don’t sound so shocked. Your innocence is almost endearing.”
“You found the city, and their gold. You knew that it would be inhabited. Then you made a deal–a human sacrifice for their treasure.”
“You’re confused,” Andrews said, sounding amused. “You’re wondering why you, and why I’d steal their gold.”
“It’s crossed my mind,” she bit out.
“You’re familiar with their legends, aren’t you?”
In fact, Fraya wasn’t. She knew about the human sacrifice, and that it involved a virgin being tied to a cross in front of the pyramid, killed with the arrows from the warriors’ bows. She shuddered.
Andrews smiled. “That’s why astronomers shouldn’t try to play archeologist.” He took a bowl from the woman and dug into the maize porridge and stew with his hand. “The tribe hasn’t had a sacrifice for centuries. Their people are dying and their babies are stillborn. According to legend, the gods would send them a golden-haired sacrifice with the mark of the Corona Borealis that would end their suffering.”
Fraya declined the bowl held to her and stared at Andrews in disbelief. “Their babies are probably dying from inbreeding, and all they need is medicine.”
“But that won’t achieve my goal,” he said, wiping fat from his chin.
“I’m no virgin,” she said, “and they’ll know. They’ll know I’m not the one–”
“It’s such a pity you don’t know the history. The virgin was only a virgin until she had intercourse with the chosen men for the sacrificing ceremony.”
Fraya felt her blood run cold. “You can’t be serious.”
“The girl fornicates with several of the tribesmen before the sacrifice, therefore it doesn’t matter if she’s a virgin or not. It’s quite a show, I believe. And then she’ll be tied to a cross positioned against the pyramid, and killed with arrows shot at her breasts and genitals.”
Fraya felt sick now. “You’re a cold-hearted murderer.”
Andrews shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I’ll tell them,” Fraya said, “I’ll tell them you’re robbing them.”
“When I told them I had found their sacrifice, the chief threw a banquet for the whole village. If he changes his mind, he’ll be killed by the mob, and he knows that. No, Fraya.” Andrews wiped his fingers over her cheek. She recoiled. “They will sacrifice you, and I’ll have my treasure.”
“You’ll be arrested the minute you set foot back in Cusco,” she said. “Welser is my ally. He won’t let this go without justice being done.”
Andrews pouted and clicked his tongue. “Welser is the one who thought up the plan.”
Fraya shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“We knew from the start what you were working on, Dr. Riber. Why do you think you got such a fat job so fast?”
“That’s impossible. I never told anyone about my research, not until I had already been employed.”
“There are ways of knowing the things you won’t tell. Welser had followed you closely for many years. He has powerful backup, and people who knows how to hac
k computers.”
She couldn’t digest it. “So he employed me, hoping I would find this place?”
“He played you like a puppet. We both did. The tricky part was getting around Saunders, but you handled him so well, you saved us the hassle. I was hoping for a more harmonious working relationship with you, Doctor,” he looked her up and down, “but well, you can’t have it all. Welser was pretty sure you’d succeed. I believe congratulations are in order.”
Before Fraya could stop herself, her hand shot out and landed hard on his cheek. Andrews sat quiet for a few seconds before his fingers slowly moved to caress the red imprint of her fingers on his face.
“I’ll make sure you die as slow as possible for that,” he said softly, as he got to his feet. At the entrance to the house he turned. “The exit is guarded by the chief’s men, so don’t make a run for it. Anyway, there’s nowhere to go.”
Fraya jumped up. “What about Olivia? What will happen to my daughter?”
The look Andrews gave her made her blood churn. “I think we’ll raise a future sacrifice. She fits the description, wouldn’t you say?”
Fraya ran to the hole that formed the door, murder running through her veins, but the young man who had acted as the chief’s translator appeared in the entrance and blocked it. She witnessed the victorious look Andrews threw at her over his shoulder with a feeling of helplessness. The man stepped into the house, forcing her backward.
“My name is Jonas,” he said in perfect English. He pointed at the woman who stood silently in a corner of the room. “This is Mia. She will help you take a bath and give you clothes to wear. You should eat and drink.”
“Why?” Fraya gave a cold laugh. “You’re going to kill me anyway.”
His eyes seemed compassionate. “When we slaughter a lamb, we first feed it fat on cream and soft pastures. That way, the lamb is happy, and the gods are satisfied with a worthy sacrifice.”
She could only stare at his back when he turned and left. Fraya sat down on the slab of rock. Fear ripped her apart, and worry for Olivia ate at her heart. How could she have been so dumb? She should have trusted her instincts. It all made sense now. The meeting in the plane, the first time she saw Andrews, had been no coincidence. She wiped a hand over her face. A sob broke free. Unwelcome tears fell onto her hands and her legs. She had to escape, but how? The woman approached her again with a bowl of cooling stew, but Fraya pushed her away and lay down on the fur, curling herself into a fetus position with her back to the woman. She heard Mia say something to the men guarding the door, but she couldn’t be bothered to see what they were up to. She needed Olivia. And Emilio. She needed to get away.
Exhaustion won over her determination not to fall asleep. Fraya was woken with a light shake. She shot up, reality coming back to her in a flash, and wiped her eyes. It was Jonas who knelt next to her.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said in a gentle voice, his hand resting on her shoulder.
Fraya almost laughed hysterically at that. ‘Don’t be afraid’, he said, when she was to be killed tomorrow at sunset.
“What do you want?” she asked, shaking off his touch.
“Mia said you refused to eat or bath.”
Fraya did laugh this time. “What are you going to do about it? Kill me?”
He clicked his tongue. “This is no way to go. You should eat a good meal, and clean yourself. The walk was long. There is blood on your face. Your body should be tired. Mia has prepared hot water. It will relax you.”
Fraya felt like clawing at him, screaming, raging, but she knew that none of that would help. An idea crossed her mind. Smit couldn’t be moved, but Jonas seemed kind and sympathetic. Would she be able to convince him to let her escape?
She sat up slowly and saw the look of appraisal that came over his face. “I didn’t come here willingly. I don’t want to be a sacrifice. Surely your gods cannot accept that?”
His eyes were watchful and intelligent. “I know what you’re trying to do,” he said softly, “but you’re wasting your energy. Our gods have accepted much less willing sacrifices over the last few hundred years.”
“You can’t seriously believe in all that, in this day and age?”
“You understand so little,” he said sadly. “This is why my people prefer to remain here, unspoiled, and untouched by your destructiveness.”
“But if Andrews takes your gold, you’ll be powerless.”
“The gods will favor us, thanks to you. We’ll find treasures again.”
Fraya realized with dwindling hope that her efforts were fruitless. Jonas reached out slowly and touched her hair. Fraya moved back, causing the strand to slip from his fingers.
“Let Mia help you take a bath, and then eat. She will give you something to drink that will help you sleep.”
Fraya looked around Jonas to see that this time there were two women in the stone hut, one of them Mia. Mia waited patiently until Jonas turned and said something to her in their language, and when he had left, the guards back in place, she took Fraya’s arm and led her around a corner into another small room that held a square rock, carved out deep, holding steaming water.
Chapter Forty-Two
Gene sounded neither happy, nor displeased when he answered Emilio’s call. His tone was cautious when he said, “To what do I owe this call?”
“Gene, Fraya’s in trouble. I need your help.”
The reply came fast. “What kind of trouble?”
“She’s been kidnapped.”
“What the fuck?”
“I’m at the zone station, waiting for the next flight to Cusco.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Both the police and Fraya’s office are clueless as to the motive for her abduction. I’m afraid they’re not going to find her in time...” His voice trailed off. “I’m going in under the pretense of fetching our child–”
“Your child!”
“Fraya had our baby. I got clearance to collect her. They’ve given me four days.”
“Tell me you’re not going to interfere with police business.”
“If I don’t, it may be too late. We don’t know who’s got her or why.”
“How do I fit into all of this?”
“I know where to start looking, and I have an idea. But to pull it off I need someone on the ground.”
“Last time I checked we hated each other.”
“Gene, this is not the time for frivolous arguments or festering blame. I’m asking you, because you once said you cared for Fraya, and you once were my friend.”
There was a pause while precious seconds ticked by. Finally Gene said, “What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to get into Zone 78 and meet me in Cusco. Tonight. You’re the only one I know who can do zone hopping on short notice.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Fuck, Gene. Would I be joking at a time like this?”
“And how am I supposed to pull that one off?”
“You’re a travel journalist. Fake a story. Anything. It’s the only occupation I know that can get clearance for changing zones on such short notice.”
“It’s going to cost a hell of a lot of arm twisting to get that one sorted.”
“I don’t care whose arms you have to break. I’ll pay if anyone can be bought.”
“Where do I meet you?”
“Good man,” Emilio said, feeling relieved. “I’ll wait for you at the Zone 78 station.”
* * * *
Emilio had arranged for Mrs. López to meet him at Fraya’s address with Olivia, and she had agreed that it was a good plan. It would upset Olivia less to be in a familiar environment. It was now with much impatience that Emilio waited their arrival. With the papers he had received from a government official who had met him at the zone station, the doorman to her stack dorm had handed over Fraya’s spare set of keys without a question. His gut had clenched when he had first walked into the dinghy, dark hole she called a flat. It was clear that
Fraya and his daughter lived in poverty. They shared a bedroom. A cot stood next to a single bed. An armoire was the only other furniture in the room. Emilio’s hand moved over the bed where his mate had slept for the past twenty-four months, and then emotions overwhelmed him when he touched the stuffed toys in his baby’s bed. Paint peeled from the grey walls. The floor was in bad shape too. Despite its exterior decay, it was spotless inside. Signs of making it an agreeable home were visible everywhere, from the bright yellow flowers in a small vase on the kitchen table to the colorful pictures on the living room wall that formed a side of a play den. Next to the den was a tree planted in a pot with Al Shain perched on a branch.
“Hello Al,” Emilio said, glad that Fraya had kept him.
Al watched him intently but didn’t make a sound.
Circumstances had given Emilio immediate access to all of Fraya’s accounts, records and medical reports. He palmed through them on his ePad while he waited for Mrs. López’s arrival. Soon he started to form an idea of how Fraya’s life had progressed after the day she had left him for the second time. She hadn’t used a single one of the points he had provided, but deposited them all into a trust fund for Olivia. Fraya had always been proud, but he had never believed she would deny herself a home of comfort or a life of ease.
There were plenty of photos of Olivia in the flat, and one of Fraya with their baby. She looked even lovelier than what he remembered. Her figure looked fuller, her face radiant, her hips rounder. Motherhood agreed with her. There was a faint smile on her lips, but it seemed like a shy smile, an inhibited one, or perhaps a sad one. His heart stood still when he looked at the photos of Olivia. There were some from birth, and some from more recent months, he guessed. She was the splitting image of her mother, except that her eyes were blue like his, and her hair wavy like his own, instead of the silky, and straight strands of her mother’s.
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