Dark Truth

by Lindsay McKenna

  Ana couldn’t see the jaguar herself, but she felt the comfort of the large cat’s fur against her left thigh. It wasn’t her imagination, after all.

  Relief funneled through her. Gulping, she searched Vidonia’s kindly face. “I really don’t know who I am.” She went on to explain what she had found out about being an orphan and adopted. As well, about Juan Sanchez’s story.

  Vidonia sat there, head cocked her narrowed eyes focused on Ana. When she had completed her story, the woman stroked her narrow chin. She took a long drink of her coffee and set it on the table between them.

  “Hmm. Well, if you really don’t know who you are, no wonder my mother gave me this message to tell you. She must have seen with her far sight and known that other choices would be invoked by the players involved. And she knew there would be changes to the legend we all know.”

  Barely able to contain herself, Ana asked, “What legend are you talking about, Vidonia?”

  “The legend about you….”

  Chapter 9

  Mace was wearily walking back into Aguas Calientes along the railroad tracks, rain drizzling around him, when, all of a sudden, a sensation he’d been waiting a lifetime to experience hit him. A wave of evil, of turmoil and savage hatred, rolled over him like an invisible tsunami. Seconds earlier, he’d been near exhaustion from working all day in the hot jungle with cranky drilling equipment. Jerking to a halt on the tracks, he snapped his head up as he digested the energy wave. Instantly, everything changed.

  It was the signature of the Dark Lord! Mace had been trained from youth to identify it. Looking up through the rain, he turned toward Machu Picchu, to find it swathed in mysterious clouds. The Dark Lord was here. He’d unveiled himself!

  Heart pounding, Mace knew he might have only one chance to find and kill him.

  His mind spun with questions. Where was Ana? Had she contacted her father today? Was this why he’d unveiled himself? Unsure, Mace hurried to his hotel, which wasn’t far away.

  “Mr. Ridfort?” the clerk sang out, waving at him. “There’s a message here for you. From a lovely young lady. She was in a hurry, breathless, and said to give this to you as soon as you came in, señor.”

  Scowling, Mace thanked the young clerk and rapidly read the message.

  Mace, I’m on a quest to Huaynu Picchu tonight. The jaguar priestess called Vidonia told me to go to the top. That I’d receive an important initiation there. I won’t be meeting you for dinner tonight. Take care. You’re in my heart…Ana.

  Mystified, Mace hurried up the stairs to his room. After shimmying out of his sweaty, muddy clothes, he dived into the shower, washed and hurried out of the stall, quickly pulling on clean clothes. The vibration of the Dark Lord continued unabated, like a five-alarm fire shrieking nonstop. And Mace knew where the bastard was at: on Machu Picchu.

  It was nearly dark when Mace trotted out of town and down the railroad tracks to the tourist bus center. Everything was quiet. No one was around. The tours had stopped running hours earlier. Spotting an older man sweeping the cobbled stones in front of the ticket office, Mace went over to him and pulled out a photo he’d taken of Ana in Cuzco.

  “Señor? Did you see this young woman with black hair and green jaguar eyes here earlier? Did she take a red bus up to the top of the mountain?” he demanded, pointing toward the temples wreathed in clouds and misting rain.

  “Oh, yes, she was here.” He pointed to Machu Picchu. “And she was in a hurry. She caught the last bus to the top.”

  “Did you see her come back down?” Mace felt a terrible urgency, and a great deal of fear for Ana.

  “No, I did not see her return.” He shrugged and started to sweep once more. “She could have, but I may have missed seeing her come off the bus with the last of the tourists.”

  Mace knew what had to be done. Jogging down the tracks, away from civilization, he turned and moved into the jungle. There was a secret way up to the temple area, one created by the Incas to get up and down the mountain in one hell of a hurry. Once hidden among the trees, where no one could see him, Mace halted.

  It was time to shape-shift into a jaguar. He closed his eyes and grounded himself. Breathing raggedly from the exertion, Mace geared his entire focus toward the transformation. Instantly, he felt the shift not only within himself, but outside. The male jaguar spirit guide came over him, slid over his head, shoulders, and enclosed the rest of his body. It was a long fifteen seconds for Mace. His teeth elongated, his neck thickened, his arms changed, hands and fingers disappearing, replaced by pads and long, curved claws.

  As he opened his eyes, Mace dropped to all fours. Now he was in his jaguar form. Looking around, he felt his guide’s primal side. The jungle now appeared much brighter with glowing colors around every plant, tree and vine. Sniffing the air, Mace picked up the scent of Ana. He’d recognize her feminine fragrance anywhere. And with it, he smelled something cadaverous on her trail. It was the Dark Lord’s signature scent. The sorcerer was stalking her.

  Turning on his hind legs, Mace galloped up the hand-carved stone steps that wound all the way to the top of the mountain. From there, he would be able to track Ana’s movements by scent alone. A brooding storm above opened up and thick drops began to pelt his fur. A slash of lightning blazed across the turgid sky.

  The only way to get to Huaynu Picchu was via Machu Picchu. A rocky, narrow trail led from one mountain to the other. Mace was familiar with it. As he ran, growling with each labored breath, taking the steps three or four at a time, he felt urgency as never before. Instinctively, he knew Ana was in danger. But this didn’t make any sense at all! Her father, the Dark Lord, would be happy to see her and meet with her.

  If only Mace could get there in time! Ana was leading him, just as the legend had said she would, to a final confrontation with the Dark Lord.

  Mace knew that to kill the most powerful sorcerer in the world, he’d have to rip out his heart. Without his black heart, Victor Carancho Guerra would be banished from the earth. He could never set up shop here or in the invisible dimensions surrounding it. Guerra could not create the chaos that would bring the world into a millennium of darkness.

  As Mace raced closer and closer to the top of the mountain, the rain continued. Lightning sizzled above him. Thunder rolled and pounded noisily. His coat was soaked, but he was impervious to the elements and the dropping temperature. His entire strength, his entire being, was focused on finally confronting the Lord of Darkness.

  Mace didn’t want to look at what else had to be done. He had to kill the father…and then the daughter. His pumping heart kept the blood pounding through his cat body. Mace didn’t want to kill Ana, but he had to.

  And somewhere in the darkness, he knew, he would either live or die this night….

  Ana gasped and nearly tripped on the narrow granite steps that led up to the Temple of the Moon. She was shivering, cold and wet—and terrified. The wind shrieked around her, pulling and tugging wildly at her clothing. The Temple of the Moon, Vidonia had told her, was where she needed to go. It stood on the west side of Apu Huaynu Picchu, the young mountain, which was sacred to the Incas.

  Around her neck, on a leather thong, swung a jaguar’s claw. Vidonia had told Ana that once she climbed the thousand hand-carved steps to the lunar temple, she must find a wide, triangular rock facing south. Once there, she should search for a small hole carved into it—and insert the claw into the hole. When she’d done so, the old woman had said, Ana’s path would be revealed to her. She would receive her initiation and more information about her parents.

  With the rain running off her face in rivulets, she found it almost impossible to see. Ana kept her small flashlight trained on the stairs ahead of her. If she slipped, she would fall off the side of the mountain—and likely plunge to her death. There was no guardrail, nothing to hold on to except the next slippery step. This was no time to lose focus. Carefully, she placed each boot tip, then slowly pushed herself upward, keeping the front of her body pressed close
to the steps. The stairs were so steep that mounting them upright was impossible.

  Despite the storm, the torrents of rain, Ana grimly persisted. She wanted to learn about her parents. She had to! And she understood that the elements were testing her.

  Ana suddenly froze on the steps. She could feel it. Taste it. Nostrils flaring, she detected the scent of dead, rotted meat, and she gasped again, with repugnance. Someone was following her.

  He was close. And evil.

  Rigid with fear, she blinked water from her eyes and twisted around to look down the steep steps she’d just climbed. She flashed her light, but the weak beam couldn’t penetrate the darkness or the rain. Ana saw no one, and yet she felt him coming after her.

  Mind churning, she turned back around and put the flashlight in her mouth, grasping the steps with both hands. Was it the hunter? The man in black? Ana didn’t know.

  With every crawling, crucial step she took, she drew closer to the temple. The next time lightning flashed, Ana could see she had only about ten more steps to the top. One thousand steps. It felt like an eternity.

  The wind screamed and tore at her. Ana groaned and flattened her belly against the stones to keep from being blown off the mountain by one especially violent gust. Bowing her head, she dug her fingers into the muddy, soaked ground and pulled herself up the last steps as the wind roared like a banshee around her.

  The rain fell nonstop, pelting her. It was cold up here, much colder than Ana had expected. She hadn’t dressed for such a climb.

  Staggering forward on hands and knees, she threw herself into the temple and lay there, panting. As soon as she could she gripped one of the hand-hewn stone columns and dragged herself upright, bracing against the furious blast of wind. Gripping the column with one hand, her flashlight in the other, Ana wiped her face with her sleeve and tried to clear her eyes. The hat she’d worn had long ago had been ripped off by the storm.

  Again she felt that strange, paralyzing terror. Breathing hard, she peered around, to no avail. It was impossible to see anything. Her skin crawled and the back of her neck, where her Tupay symbol lay, felt as if it were on fire. Ana couldn’t understand where the threat came from. Yes, she was scared, but it was only a storm. The front would pass and then she could find the slab of stone where she had to insert the claw. So why was she feeling as if she was going to die?

  Shaking her head, she cringed as yet another bolt of lightning ripped across the sky just above her.

  In those split seconds, she saw him.

  A scream tore from her lips.

  There, just thirty feet below her on the narrow steps, was the man in black. He had a rifle in his hand—aimed at her.

  Frozen in place, Ana gripped the column with desperation.

  The wind roared around her.

  The thunder banged and pummeled her. The ground shook beneath her feet.

  The hunter! He was here!

  Daughter, do not be fearful. I am here to help you….

  Ana couldn’t think, couldn’t move. She heard the hunter’s words clearly in her mind. He was hooded, his face hidden, yet, she knew him from her dream last night.

  Be at ease, Daughter. It is slippery. I have come to help you make the last steps easier.

  Something screamed no in her mind. Ana hesitated, torn between allowing the man in black to come up to where she stood, wavering at the temple entrance, or running away from him.

  A sudden dizziness struck her. Instantly, Ana recognized the sensation. Oh, no! She was turning into a jaguar again! As much as she tried to fight the feeling, she couldn’t concentrate enough to stop it; the energy came over her.

  In the next flash of lightning, she saw the hunter lift his rifle and fix it on her. How could this man, who claimed to be her father, want to help her? He was going to shoot her!

  Everything slowed down to single frame, as if Ana were watching stills of a movie. She saw a jaguar come out of the darkness and land on the man’s back, knocking him forward. The gun roared. Ana felt a bullet whiz dangerously close to her head. She cringed and watched the rifle fly out of the hunter’s hand. The weapon spun into the night, lost in the chasm far below.

  Mace lunged forward, the stinging rain slashing at his face. Luckily, the thick lashes around his eyes protected them somewhat from the deluge. As he raced up the steep, slippery stone steps, his night vision kept the Tupay sorcerer in sight. The fear of arriving too late sizzled through him as lightning danced overhead. The wind slapped his powerful feline body. And then Mace saw the sorcerer lift his rifle and aim it directly at Ana. How could that be?

  His primitive jaguar mind warred with his human mind as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Why would this man kill his daughter? Hadn’t the Lord of Darkness waited all this time to find her?

  None of Mace’s questions could be answered as he slipped and slid on the narrow steps. With claws fully extended, his large, padded feet barely fit on each one. Mace was in a precarious situation. These steps were enough to test anyone, man or animal. He wondered how Ana had gotten this far in such a terrible storm.

  Automatically, his body arced and tensed as he approached his quarry. Shifting all the power to his hind legs, he lifted his front paws upward. As he did so, a gust of wind slammed into him. Slipping sideways, Mace felt himself hurtling toward the Lord of Darkness in a twisted position. He tried to straighten out, but it was impossible. Mace heard the sorcerer shriek as his claws landed powerfully in the folds of the man’s cloak.

  The rifle went off. Mace felt the blast very close to his face. The sorcerer shouted a curse and dropped the weapon as he tried to evade the attack.

  Satisfaction thrummed through Mace as his claws sank into flesh. The sorcerer was real, after all. He was in a physical body, and that meant he was vulnerable. Opening his jaws, Mace lunged for the terrified man’s face.

  The sorcerer lashed out as he fell. Mace grunted and felt himself falling, falling, falling…and then, amazingly, he landed on all fours on a rocky ledge next to the narrow stairs. Whirling around, he heard the sorcerer land behind him.

  Before he could react, Mace felt a huge rock strike his left shoulder. Pain shattered through him and he fell sideways onto the slippery stones.

  “I’ll kill you!” Guerra screamed, picking up another rock and throwing it at the cat. To his surprise, the jaguar did not run away. Instead, the animal gave a deep growl, scrambled to his feet and evaded the second boulder. Then he turned and gazed at Guerra with huge green eyes. He hurled yet another heavy rock, but the jaguar just stared at him.

  The sorcerer breathed harshly and backed up. Only when lightning flashed could he see the massive, threatening male cat. Reaching down for another hefty stone, Guerra wished he hadn’t lost his rifle. Or had he? Desperately, during the next lightning flash he looked around. His weapon lay no more than five feet away from him, near the steps!

  But as he lunged for it, Guerra heard movement. He knew the jaguar was coming for him. Fingers stretched outward, he clawed for his rifle before it was too late. There! Jerking the weapon up, he settled his finger around the trigger.

  With all his might, Mace hurtled toward the sorcerer, not needing the flash of lightning to sight his quarry. The man had found the dropped weapon, and was going to aim it and shoot—shoot to kill. It couldn’t be! Mace’s left shoulder ached. It slowed him slightly, but not enough to prevent him leaping again at the Lord of Darkness.

  Guerra screamed and automatically raised the rifle in self-defense. The jaguar came out of the night, claws extended, mouth open and those glistening fangs aimed right at his throat. Because he couldn’t pull off a shot fast enough, Guerra swung the rifle and hit the cat in the head as hard as he could. The animal groaned and slammed into the stone staircase.

  As Guerra scrambled to his feet, rifle in hand, he understood very clearly this was not a normal jaguar. Without a doubt, this was a shape-shifter—a Warrior for the Light. And Guerra knew the risks of one of the hunter-warriors find
ing him. They were raised from infancy to track him down and kill him. This was the first one to find him.

  Grimly, the sorcerer pointed the rifle toward where the cat lay. Though stunned, he knew he had only seconds to train his weapon and shoot. But the night was black. He needed lightning to flash, but the weather wouldn’t cooperate.

  Rain flooded his eyes and the winds dragged at his cloak. Frightened, Guerra cursed the heavens. Where was that jaguar? Knowing of the cat’s excellent night vision, he understood he was at a disadvantage. As he heard the jaguar scrambling to his feet, the sorcerer made a decision.

  Throwing the rifle down, Guerra leaped upon the stone steps. He had to gather his wits, his focus around him in order to do this—fly like a bird and escape this unstoppable jaguar. He grabbed the edges of his cloak and gripped them tightly. He willed the black raven over him, and as he waited, dizziness assailed him. Would he be able to shape-shift soon enough?

  Mace shook himself, his head ringing. Pain flashed through his skull and he panted. As he drew himself upright, he heard the sorcerer above him on the steps. Mace scrambled to all fours and hurled himself up the wet stairs once more. The pain in his left shoulder was tremendous, but the will to kill the evil one was greater.

  Guerra spread his cloak, the wind catching it and ballooning each side outward like wedge-shaped wings. No! The Dark Lord was in the middle of a shape-shift. Without thought to his own safety, Mace pounced once more. This time, his hind feet found purchase and he sprang directly at the sorcerer. As Mace closed in, he saw his prey change into a black raven. Within seconds, the big bird flew off the steps and into the night.

  Mace landed on the stairs with a thud. He found himself suddenly alone in the middle of the frightful, furious storm. The Dark Lord had escaped. Disappointment, sharp and keen, sizzled through Mace as he stood looking into the night, tail twitching. He had failed, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Guerra had created this storm in the first place to hide his ominous presence from Ana.