And if no-one saw it disappear.
Did it exist?
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Valley of the Faces
The condor angled its great wings to swoop towards the dark bird below, tracing its path through the air with such precision that it felt as if it was tethered to the bird’s flight. Screeching, the condor drew closer, thrusting out its claws for the imminent impact. It was almost upon its prey when the bird suddenly dropped like a stone, and the condor was left scrabbling at nothingness.
Cristóbal lay awake for a long time in the dark, his thoughts in turmoil, until he became aware of a figure standing at the cave entrance, silhouetted against the pre-dawn sky.
‘Tagón, what are you doing here so early?’
‘I want to show you something today, but we need to leave now.’
Sarpay was still sleeping next to him, breathing softly. Cristóbal kissed her lightly so she wouldn’t awaken, got dressed and stepped outside.
None of the others had yet emerged from the caves. The sky was a deep purple, and the only sound was the soft babble of the stream below.
‘This way,’ said Tagón as they made their way to the other side of the valley, where he led Cristóbal through a hidden gap in the mountain-side.
‘How many more secrets do you have?’
‘I told you from the start we were a secretive people.’
‘I remember. Now, are you going to tell me where we’re going?’
‘No.’
‘I thought so. It’s fortunate I trust you.’
Tagón held up his hand. ‘Wait. We’re being followed.’
Cristóbal reached for his sword. ‘Who’s there? Step forward.’
His tension eased when a familiar figure rounded the corner behind them. ‘It’s only me,’ said Tiso sheepishly.
‘Why are you following us?’ asked Cristóbal.
‘Because you looked like you were going somewhere important.’ He couldn’t meet Cristóbal’s gaze.
‘If we are, then the last thing we want is someone following us,’ said Tagón.
‘Please go back and leave us,’ said Cristóbal.
Tiso shuffled awkwardly. ‘My people… we know nothing. Great things happen around us, but we’re herded like alpacas.’
‘We’re keeping you safe,’ said Tagón.
‘The wind-whisperers are also keeping my people in the High Palaces safe. I don’t want us to be safe like an alpaca waiting to be shorn. I want us to be able to fight for ourselves. There are so few ñakaqs left. You need us.’
‘I’ve shown you how to shoot a crossbow,’ said Cristóbal.
‘I know, and I’m grateful.’
‘But?’
‘But I would like Tagón to make me my own crossbow. Maybe even two, so I can teach some of the others.’
‘Two?’ said Tagón, raising his eyebrows. ‘Would two be enough?’
Tiso looked up and nodded. ‘For now.’
‘I see.’ Tagón glanced at Cristóbal then across to Tiso. ‘Don’t follow me again. Now return to the valley.’
‘Will you make me the crossbows?’
‘I haven’t said no, have I?’
Tiso hesitated, half-smiled and then turned to go.
* * *
Tagón took Cristóbal through a series of narrow crevices and rock splinters until they finally came to a crater ringed by mountain slopes etched with bizarre formations. He led him to the middle of the crater and then sat down, inviting Cristóbal to do the same.
‘What are we doing here, Tagón?’
‘This has always been one of my favourite places in the heartlands.’
The ground was hard and there was no vegetation, making it difficult for Cristóbal to share Tagón’s enthusiasm.
‘Why is this place special to you?’
‘Look around Cristóbal.’
Cristóbal turned, staring at the surrounding rocks against the pale-red mid-morning sky. ‘I’m sorry, Tagón. I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Give it time. You might need to wait until the sun is higher and there’s more light.’
‘What am I looking for?’
‘The faces. I call this place the Valley of the Faces.’
‘Where are they?’
‘In the rocks all around us.’
Cristóbal squinted at the western slope. ‘Can you see them there, Tagón?’
‘Yes, and there, and there, and there,’ he said pointing. ‘We’re surrounded by faces.’
Cristóbal blinked, trying to force them into the forms that Tagón said were there.
‘You need to calm yourself,’ said Tagón. ‘They don’t appear if you’re tense or your mind is agitated.’
‘If that’s true maybe I’ll never be able to see them.’
Cristóbal let his mind wander, to a time with Diego when two boys were lying on their backs on the banks of the Guadalquivir river staring at the clouds and watching giant galleons with billowing sails being chased across the sky by fantastic many-fanged beasts.
Then the transformation came, unheralded. One moment he saw only rocky slopes and the next they sprang to life. He was unaware of how much time passed, but suddenly hundreds of giant faces peered out at him from the mountain. Some leered, some laughed. Some looked frightened, some triumphant. Some joyous. Some despondent. Some had the wide eyes of shock or surprise and others had the closed eyes of sleep—or death. Some appeared deep in contemplation, while others were frozen in mid-shout. Some of them appeared to be arguing, while others looked as if they had just found a loved one.
‘I can see them,’ he said.
‘I know.’
‘How did you know, Tagón?’
‘I can see it in your face.’
‘What an amazing place. Are these ñakaq carvings?’
‘If they were carved by our ancestors, we have no record of it. I always thought they were natural formations and it was our minds that were creating the faces.’
Cristóbal smiled. ‘You’re so very different from when I first saw you.’
‘As are you Cristóbal.’ Tagón put his hand on Cristóbal’s elbow. ‘I’m going to take you somewhere else today.’
A chill went through Cristóbal despite the increasing heat of the day. He knew what Tagón was about to say. From now on there would be no going back. ‘You’re going to take me to the Great Halls, aren’t you?’
Tagón looked at him and nodded in silence.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
The Words of the Wind-Whisperer
‘Why don’t you make love to me?’ asked Eleria as Héctor brought her breakfast, placing the plate next to her. The morning sun slanted through the cave entrance.
‘I’ve told you why. If I made love to you, you would no longer be a prisoner. I would have to release you.’
‘But you could still keep my hands and wings tied.’
‘Then I wouldn’t be making love to you. It would be something else.’
‘I’m offering it to you freely. Cristóbal must be thinking you are anyway. We’ve been sharing the same cave for weeks.’
‘Eat your breakfast.’
She held out her bound hands.
‘I’m sorry I can’t free your hands more often,’ he said as he untied her.
‘I know you think I’ll unbind my wings the first chance I get and fly away.’
‘Of course.’
‘The truth is with the fire damage to my wings and being bound for so long, I’m not sure if they work anymore.’
‘I hate it when you say the truth is. It means everything else you’ve said isn’t the truth.’
‘You’re being unfair.’
‘Maybe. Just don’t ask me to stroke your wings again. I know what that does to you.’
Eleria began spooning the corn into her mouth. ‘You still haven’t told me what your plans are for me. How long do I have to stay in this cave?’
‘Cristóbal is the one who has plans for you. It’s up to him.’
/> ‘But you know what they are, don’t you? Am I ever going to be released?’
‘I’ll bring you some tea.’
When he returned with a steaming cup from the fire on the ledge outside their cave, she said, ‘You’re always so guarded when you speak to me.’
‘I have to be.’
‘No, you don’t.’
‘I think I do, Eleria. Too often with you I find myself saying things, sometimes thinking things, that I shouldn’t.’
‘And that disturbs you?’
‘Of course, it does. The one thing I’ve always held onto in my life is that I remain in control of myself.’
‘But you do want to make love to me, don’t you Héctor?’
‘I’m going for a walk. Hurry up and finish your tea so that I can tie your hands again.’
Eleria took a sip. ‘You know what I think. I think you need to stop serving Cristóbal. You don’t need to serve anybody.’
Héctor glared at her. ‘Stop it. I know what you’re doing.’
‘What am I doing? Trying to make you value yourself more highly. You’re at least as good as Cristóbal in anything. I just don’t understand why you serve him like you’re not as good as he is.’
He grabbed the cup from her and emptied it onto the ground. ‘Enough,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to hear your words any more. No wonder the ñakaqs call your people wind-whisperers.’
As he retied her hands, she leant over and kissed him. For a moment when he felt her soft lips on his, he returned the kiss, but then he pulled away and walked outside.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
The Great Halls
Cristóbal gasped as he looked around the giant cavern. Huge ñakaq likenesses in full battle garb glared at him from the stone walls, their faces frozen in a frenzy with intricately carved beards cascading to the ground to form the floor under his feet. High above their heads burnt enormous helmet fires that filled the cave with light and warmth, while smaller lights studded the ceiling and walls, flickering like underground stars. In the distance was a stone bridge connecting to a staircase that descended into the depths.
‘So this is one of your Great Halls,’ said Cristóbal, his eyes wide open as he tried to grasp what he was seeing.
‘No,’ said Tagón, ‘This is just an antechamber. Come, this way.’
Cristóbal followed Tagón over the bridge. Below, a series of staircases, arched bridges and vaults led further and further into the bowels of the mountain. ‘It looks like we have a long journey ahead of us.’
‘We do,’ said Tagón, ‘but you’re looking the wrong way. Down there are our workshops and forges. We’re going the other way.’
Cristóbal followed the line of Tagón’s sight, and he saw a series of staircases leading up well past the giant helmet fires into the upper reaches of the mountain.
‘Our Great Halls are hidden well above the ground,’ said Tagón. ‘The duendes may live on a mountain, but we live in a mountain. Who knows how many times they’ve unknowingly flown past our home?’
‘I’m honoured you’ve brought me here, Tagón.’
‘Malín made his promise to you that you could have whatever you wanted. And this is what you chose.’
‘It wasn’t your promise, Tagón.’
‘No, but I’m now king, and Malín made his pledge on the behalf of all ñakaqs, so I decided I couldn’t escape the burden of the oath.’
When they commenced their ascent into the mountain, the dark walls changed to ones that glistened with gold. Cristóbal ran his fingers across the surface as he climbed. This was no natural phenomenon. The ñakaqs must have poured molten gold over the natural rock. Shafts of sunlight streamed in through small holes in the mountain-side, merging with the glow of countless oil lamps to create a delicate dance reflecting from gilded wall to gilded wall.
‘This isn’t what I expected,’ said Cristóbal as they climbed another staircase.
‘Like the wind-whisperers, you think that we’re not capable of such things?’
‘No, no, of course not, but how can anyone know what you’re capable of if you keep so much hidden? What you’ve built here is something I could never have imagined.’
They stepped into a vast cavern whose walls were dotted with gemstones of intense indigo, scarlet and crimson. In front of them were a series of steps leading up to a large ornate chair carved into the rock. At the base of the steps stood two ñakaq guards.
‘This is the throne chamber,’ said Tagón.
Cristóbal was shocked when he recognised one of the guards was Malín.
‘I’m sorry that I was the cause of you losing your kingship,’ he said after an awkward silence.
‘I lost the kingship through my own foolishness,’ said Malín. ‘You aren’t to blame.’
Cristóbal strained his neck to see the stone crown that hung from the ceiling above the chair. ‘So now you guard the throne you once sat on?’
‘The kingship of the ñakaqs is a burden, not a privilege. It would never be given to one who seeks it. I don’t think it’s ever good to desire command.’
‘Maybe that’s the mistake I made,’ said Cristóbal.
‘I, too, am sorry that I was the reason you lost your command, Cristóbal.’
‘No, Malín, I also take responsibility for my foolish decisions. Most of them were made long before I saw my first ñakaq.’
‘Come,’ said Tagón, ‘I want you to see our Greatest Hall.’
Cristóbal and Malín nodded silent farewells, and Cristóbal followed Tagón across a gem-encrusted bridge. They entered an even bigger cavern with an impossibly high vaulted ceiling, coloured crimson so that it looked like the Nueva Tierran sky. Cristóbal turned a full circle, mesmerised. The rock wall was dotted with dozens of openings, each one veiled by a shimmering curtain.
‘You seem to always be looking in the wrong direction,’ said Tagón.
‘What do you—’ Cristóbal lowered his gaze and saw someone standing next to Tagón.
‘This is my wife, Sala,’ he said.
‘I am sorry, but I speak the language of the beardless ones poorly.’ She smiled shyly. Masses of thick hair framed her large, open face. ‘I’m pleased to finally meet you.’
‘As am I.’ Cristóbal embraced her. ‘It’s an honour.’
‘Perhaps too much of an honour,’ said Sala, throwing a glance in Tagón’s direction. ‘It is difficult to throw our men from their paths of secrecy. With so few men now, I think we have agreed it is time for a change.’
Cristóbal raised his eyebrows. What else was going to be revealed?
‘Come sit with us.’ Tagón pointed to four stone benches forming a square.
After the three sat down, Tagón said, ‘You’ve freely chosen to aid us in our war against the wind-whisperers, so it’s important that you know the full nature of our enmity.’
‘The duendes are cold killers without honour,’ said Cristóbal. ‘I understand why you have to defend yourselves.’
‘It’s not as simple as it appears,’ said Tagón, dragging the words from the back of his throat. ‘Our people came from far beyond the mountains after being driven from our ancestral home by hordes of what we call light-eaters. Our ancient tales speak of a path of escape, which we also knew to be a path of no return.’
‘You entered Nueva Tierra through an entrada the same way we did?’
‘Yes.’
This was a surprise. How much more did the ñakaqs have in common with the Spaniards? ‘And the duendes?’
‘The wind-whisperers have always been in these lands.’
‘Did they see you as invaders?’
‘No, Cristóbal. The duendes had not known other beings before we came. They’d always been alone. They had no experiences that allowed them to feel threatened.’
‘So, you were the ones who attacked?’
‘That wasn’t our way in those distant times. We were looking for a new home and Nueva Tierra was vast. Since the wind-whisperers lived on the mo
untain peaks, we asked if we could settle the valleys. We would trade precious metals with them and help build great palaces. There would be peace.’
‘But there was no peace?’
‘At first there was, but it depended on us serving their needs. It was soon clear to our people that the wind-whisperers considered themselves so superior to us that our natural place was to grovel at their feet. There was no exchange as we had agreed, no trade. They treated us with disdain. They didn’t age or die while our people fell to illness and frailty. I see now that they saw themselves as gods. They made us feel weak and unworthy, forgetting we had once been a proud people.’
‘The way they’ve done with the Incas?’
‘Yes, we became their slaves. But then we discovered that it was possible to kill them and we revolted.’
‘Why are you telling me this tale with a sense of shame, Tagón? There’s no dishonour in a revolt against injustice.’
‘That may be true, but as you’ve seen, we do nothing by half-measures.’ Tagón shifted uncomfortably and took a deep breath. ‘It wasn’t just a revolt. It was a massacre. We butchered them in their sleep. We relentlessly pursued those that escaped through the High Palaces and slaughtered every single male wind-whisperer. Our ancestors believed it was the only way they could free themselves. Maybe they were right. The surviving females then branded us what you would call demons and have hunted us ever since. We were forced to find ways of hiding, of moving unseen. Over time we discovered more and more secret paths within our lands.’
‘Entradas? Huacas?’
Tagón shook his head slowly. ‘We give them a different name in our tongue. What the beardless ones call huacas lead into our lands. The hidden paths we found were ways to move quickly from one place to another within our lands. I’ve taken you through three of them—the last one today to our Great Halls. And in this, the Greatest Hall, we’ve uncovered more paths than anywhere else. From here we can travel to all the corners of our lands.’
‘So that’s why the duendes haven’t been able to defeat you?’
‘Yes, we can appear as if from nowhere. Our armies are able to move in ways that seem impossible, and we can swiftly carry the bodies of our fallen to a place where we can honour them.’ Tagón lowered his eyes. ‘But there’s a price to pay. You see, in fighting the duendes, it was almost as if we were becoming the demons they claimed we were.’
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