Continuing rapidly down the slippery trail, Ana passed the tourists, who said hello to her in German. She gave a wan smile in return, and wished Mace was with her. Just thinking about him brought her fear under control. And yet she couldn’t stop replaying the events of last night. What about the jaguar she’d seen in that flash of lightning? The rifle shot and the bullet whizzing by her head had been as real as the cat itself.
The most brutal truth was that Victor wanted her dead. Ana wrestled mightily with that knowledge. Parents and children often had disagreements. But to kill her because she refused to be taught by him? Refused the power, fame and wealth he promised, in favor of life as a wildlife biologist? It seemed an extreme and sick reaction. Loco.
Reaching a fork in the path, Ana saw a small, hand-carved sign that said Lunar Temple. An arrow pointed down through the shadowy jungle below. Ana tried to remain alert as she made her way along the narrow, steep path, which was riddled with tree roots ready to trip her. The jungle walls closed in quickly, the path a narrow corridor between them. Howler monkeys screeched. Startled birds shrieked in alarm and flew off into the impenetrable interior.
Grandmother Alaria had told Ana she must find a cave with seven niches dug into the walls. She was to sit in each hollow in turn, where she would be given information by the Incan goddess or nusta assigned to it. At the end of the seventh session and her communication with the final nusta, Ana would know what to do, Alaria had told her. Ana would receive a gift for her next initiation.
Arriving at the river an hour later, she easily found the cave, even though vines and trees grew around the entrance. About two hundred feet away stood the partially destroyed lunar temple. Ana could see that the roof of the structure had rotted away over time, though the standing stone walls seemed strong. Each window ledge held a stone of a different size, shape and color. The roar of the Urubamba indicated the mighty river was very near, but the thick jungle wall hid it from view.
Ana ate a second protein bar, drank a pint of bottled water and then climbed the steep, rocky slope to the entrance of the cave. It was easy to spot the seven niches, for they were decorated with despachos, sacred gift offerings to the nustas left by Incan priests and priestesses of today. The Inca religion was thriving in South America, she was discovering, despite the heavy hand of the Spaniards who had brought Catholicism to the continent four centuries ago.
Ana had nothing to give to the nustas and she felt badly about that. Setting her knapsack on the floor of the cave, she stepped into the first small alcove and sat down, cross-legged. She grounded herself, took several deep, steadying breaths and closed her eyes.
Within seconds, she began to feel a spinning sensation, like a whirlpool, drawing her down into the earth. After last night’s escapade with the triangular rock on Huaynu Picchu, Ana relaxed. She knew this signified her traveling in spirit to some other dimension.
But as she sank even deeper, she could still feel Victor nearby, closing in on her once again. She was torn between opening her eyes or surrendering to the energy that gently pulled her on into a white-gold light.
Victor Carancho Guerra smiled briefly. He stood just within the darkness of the jungle, less than ten feet from the lunar temple, which had been built by the Incas hundreds of years earlier. His rifle rested in the crook of his arm.
Cloaked and therefore undetectable, he saw his daughter coming out of the nusta’s cave. Victor’s heart grew sad. He didn’t want it to end this way. Why couldn’t Ana see the positive side of working with him? Having power, fame, riches and control wasn’t bad. Everyone wanted those things. Why didn’t she?
Victor shook his head. He knew he had to kill Ana if she didn’t side with him and his goals for the world. Regardless of the guilt he felt, he had to do this. He had to fulfill the legend. Ana had made a foolish and deadly error in saying no to him.
The sudden appearance of that jaguar still bothered Victor, especially when he’d realized it was a hunter-assassin from the Warriors for the Light and not a true jungle animal. The shape-shifter—whoever he was—had torn through Victor’s cloak, ripping five long gashes in the fabric. The unexpected attack had caught him off guard. He’d been too focused on stalking his daughter to be aware of anything else. As he’d become unveiled, Victor had been exposed, vulnerable. The hunter-assassin had located him precisely because of that fact. But Victor had had to release his energy in order to get to Ana. There was no other choice.
Staring down at the damp, leaf-strewn floor of the jungle, Victor knew that after killing her, he would then take her soul captive. Shooting her body came first. As she lay dying, he would entrap her spirit and transport her to the Land of the Dead. Once imprisoned there, Ana could never escape. She would never cause problems for him again.
Well, he wouldn’t make any mistakes today. True, he had to unveil once more, but Victor was paying attention to everything around him this time, instead of just focusing on Ana.
He narrowed his eyes as he watched his tall, lean daughter carefully pick her way through the temple entrance. She looked like her mother, Magdalena, without a doubt. Victor saw no trace of his own face in his daughter’s features.
And then cold rage overwhelmed him. That bitch, his first wife, had completely deceived him. Him! Of all the sorcerers, Magdalena had tricked him! He had never dreamed anyone could outmaneuver him like that. He was, after all, the vaunted Lord of Darkness, come to life to fulfill a thousand-year-old legend.
Savagely, Victor squelched his rage. He had to pay attention. Had to keep his awareness open to all possibilities. He knew the jaguar shape-shifter was alive and would stalk him once more.
Time to act. Wiping his mouth impatiently, Victor saw Ana hesitantly step inside the ancient temple. She might be his daughter, but she wouldn’t be much longer.
Looking around, the sorcerer sensed something else, but couldn’t quite define the feeling. One second an energy was there; the next, it was gone. It had to be the hunter-assassin, searching for him. Victor quickly cloaked himself.
All he had to do now was wait until his daughter located the Emerald Key—a sphere-shaped emerald said to be buried here, at the temple. Victor had never managed to find it, but sensed it was present. The sphere had been hidden energetically, so that a Tupay could never locate its imprint or whereabouts.
The sphere was part of a powerful necklace created by the great Incan emperor Pachacuti. And Victor was going to get that ceremonial necklace, one way or another.
Shifting impatiently from foot to foot, he watched intently as Ana peered about in the murky depths of the temple. The Inca had sent seven jaguar warriors around the world, to bury the seven emeralds of the sacred necklace in seven countries. One of the spheres was here in Peru, where it had all begun. But even with his considerable powers and psychic ability, Victor hadn’t been able to locate it. The spheres would only reveal themselves to a Taqe person.
Snorting softly, he watched as Ana carefully moved deeper into the roofless temple, continuing her search. She might be his daughter, carrying his blood within her, but she sure as hell wasn’t choosing the right side.
But once she found the sphere, that wouldn’t matter anymore.
Ana brushed aside cobwebs as she stepped into the northern corner of the stone structure. The dirt floor was dry here because a section of thick, rotting roof timbers remained intact. The nustas in the cave had given Ana a visual map of the temple floor. They had revealed the presence of a beautiful emerald sphere buried in a wooden box in a far corner.
Curiosity, excitement and dread warred within Ana as she sank to her knees. Digging with the knife she carried, she began to remove the packed top layer of red clay dirt. Grandmother Alaria had said that this initiation would bring her a gift, something she would need…. Ana wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand, then continued digging.
Alaria had said Ana must use her heart during the upcoming test, she recalled. If she was able to pass all the initiations, her life
would change. She didn’t know how it would change; she just wanted to know who her mother was.
Abruptly, the sounds of the jungle quieted, and Ana felt that terrifying stalking presence once more. Her father was so close that the hair stood up on the back of Ana’s neck, screaming a warning.
Frightened and wary, Ana kept glancing toward the dim shaft of light coming through the doorway, half expecting Victor to be standing there, his rifle aimed at her once more. Mouth dry, heart pounding with fear, she saw nothing. She got back to work.
The point of her knife struck something with a thunk. It must be the wooden box! The last nusta had said Ana would find the emerald sphere inside it, in the north corner. Quickly, she continued to dig. A small, carved mahogany receptacle, about five inches long and wide, was gradually revealed. Gently prying it out of the ground, she felt her hands tingle wildly as she lifted the treasure from its resting place and set it on the floor. Her heart pounding, she wiped her dirty hands on her pant legs and then pried open the box with her fingernails.
As she opened the lid, bright, green-gold light shot out of the box, surrounding her and lighting up the entire interior of the shadowy temple. Wide-eyed, Ana stared down at the round sphere, about the size of a golf ball, nestled in a bed of tattered golden fabric. Green light blazed from its depths.
The energy bathed Ana. She felt infused with such love and peace that she closed her eyes and simply absorbed the incredible, healing vibrations exuding like a mighty beacon. Kneeling there, her hands resting on her thighs, she felt the energy encircle her thudding heart. Miraculously, all of her fear dissolved. In its place, Ana felt such sweet hope and harmony. Opening her eyes, she heard the spirit in the sphere whisper that she should pick it up in her left hand.
The moment her fingers curved around the object, Ana gasped again. That energy entered her palm, raced up her arm and flowed like a mighty river throughout her being, drenching every cell with a radiance that lifted and transformed her. The voices of women singing filled her mind as she clung to the sphere.
However long the beautiful, otherworldly experience lasted, Ana had no idea. As she continued kneeling there, the sphere seemed to throb with a cool and soothing energy. She couldn’t explain what had happened to her or why. All she knew was that she felt reborn. The anxiety and acidic fear were gone. A sense of centering deep within made her feel connected to something incredibly healing and wonderful. Ana savored the moment, until a voice within finally told her it was time to move on.
After tucking the sphere carefully back into the box, Ana slipped the hook through its wire loop and closed the lid once more. She shakily got to her feet, reached for her pack and shrugged it on. Leaning down, she picked up the box and walked out of the temple.
Ana halted abruptly. Less than ten feet away was her father. Dressed all in black, he had his rifle in his hands—aimed at her.
“So, you found it,” Victor rasped as he eyed the box.
Ana stared at him in alarm. This was the first time she’d come face-to-face with her father in broad daylight, in the flesh. Victor stared back at her, a sickening grin on his face. His canine teeth were like those of a feral animal. But it was his eyes that filled her with dread. Ana felt as if she were looking into a black hole.
Fear jagged through her like a bolt of lightning. Automatically, her grip tightened on the box she carried.
“Why are you here?” she demanded, her voice hoarse and unsteady. Her world was dissolving, she realized. The jungle sounds died away and the river went silent.
Victor lowered the rifle slightly. “I’m here to give you one more chance, Daughter. Come of your own free will and let me teach you what I know.” He held his hand toward her, his voice hoarse and pleading. “Please, Ana. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to be my daughter once again. We can be such a good team, you and I.” His voice dropped lower. “You are of my blood. My body. I’d rather work with you than harm you.”
Breathing raggedly, Ana whispered, “I’ll never work with you.” She saw the hope disappear from his flat, dark eyes, felt him preparing to shoot her. There would be no escape this time. Absently, Ana wondered if her jaguar guide was near. She hadn’t felt her around her since she’d entered the temple. Wasn’t she supposed to protect her? As she cast a furtive glance at her surroundings, Ana knew they were alone. This was an out-of-the-way place where few tourists ever came, because it was such a long, dangerous, steep trek down to the ancient ceremonial site. Alone. And she was going to die.
Again, Ana realized how much she wanted to live. She felt the sphere inside the box she carried sending waves of tingles through her. There was a reason for her to live now. From what the nustas had told her, the sphere could only be given to someone of the light. Ana could never give it to the Tupay.
Suddenly, she saw a way to make up for the evil she carried inside herself. The sphere symbolized something good and clean and honorable—a positive gift to humanity.
She was not like her father, who stood before her like a thin, black scarecrow with a deadly smile. Compressing her lips, she snarled, “Get out of here! Leave me alone!”
“I can’t. Not until you give me that box.”
Ana’s arms automatically tightened around it. She understood from the nustas that if this sphere fell into Tupay hands, it would be used for evil, not good. At all costs, she had to protect it. She would die trying.
“Give it to me and I’ll let you live.”
“You’re going to kill me either way.” Her voice was low, like the growl of a jaguar.
Victor said, “You could work at my side, as my consort. Together, you and I can rule this world.” He gestured with the rifle. “I’m the most powerful sorcerer in the world. It is my destiny to rule the earth. And you could be at my side.”
“I’ll die first!” Ana answered. “I’m not evil. I want this world filled with peace, not war. The nustas told me that Tupay represent nothing but violence, war and death.”
Stepping back, Victor scowled. His heart sank as he realized that the nustas were treating Ana as if she were Taqe. Well, she wasn’t! She had his genes, the Tupay heritage, within her! Rebuffed and hurt, he snarled, “You stupid girl. You could have everything—wealth, fame and power. You’re just like your mother—a hopeless idealist. Well, idealists don’t make it in this world.” He waved a finger in Ana’s direction. “And I’m not going to be lured again by your mother or her genetics. You look like her. You act like her.” Victor snorted violently. “Do you know what happened to her? I’m going to tell you before I kill you.”
Tears rushed to Ana’s eyes. Her chest heaved with such violent emotions—grief, rage and despair—that it was all she could do to stand there. Her voice cracking, she cried, “What did you do to her?”
Victor smiled savagely. “I discovered that she wasn’t Tupay, but Taqe. Magdalena was within a week of birthing you. Bitch that she was, she hid from me the fact she was a Warrior for the Light. I thought I had fulfilled the legend by marrying a Tupay woman who would bear my consort, a daughter as dark as I. Instead, a week before your birth, I saw the birthmark on the back of Magdalena’s neck had changed from Tupay to Taqe.” He pointed to his own neck. “I was holding her when I saw the symbol change. I had lifted her hair to kiss her there.”
Victor muttered, “The sun symbol disappeared, replaced by the Vesica Piscis! The double ring indicated she was a Warrior for the Light. Before, she would shape-shift into a parrot, a Tupay spirit guide. I think her hormones during pregnancy had accidentally reverted her birthmark back to the real one.” He took in a ragged breath and continued, “It showed me she was my enemy, not my wife.”
“How c-could someone you love suddenly become your enemy?” Ana stammered in anger.
With a one-shouldered shrug, Victor narrowed his eyes speculatively. “Warriors for the Light are my natural enemies, girl. They are of the light energy. I am of heavy Tupay energy. I believe Maria Magdalena Sanchez knew exactly what she was doing when s
he sought me out, lured me into marriage and mated with me. I believe she knowingly gave her own life to supposedly ‘save the world.’ Or so she thought. You see, there’s a legend that says when the Dark Lord mates with the Dark Mistress, a daughter will be born from that union. It will be she who becomes the consort of the Dark Lord, and they will go on to rule the world. Magdalena tricked me.”
“How did you kill my mother?” The words were hushed and strained. Ana choked back tears and waited, her gaze riveted on Victor.
“Simple enough. I persuaded her to take a walk with me just before nightfall. Oh, she was having a few labor pains, but I sweet-talked her into it. Once I had her on the edge of a five-hundred-foot cliff, I confronted her about the Taqe symbol on her neck. I told her I’d found out her sneaky plan to bear a daughter who wasn’t Tupay. Her last words to me were that I would never win the war against the light. I shoved her off the cliff for that.”
Ana glared at him. “And the fall killed her?”
“I heard her body hit the rocks below,” he answered calmly. “It was dark by then, so I couldn’t see where she’d landed. I thought the fall would kill you both. But I was wrong. When you were four years old, I felt you unveil for the first time. I was shocked you’d survived. Your signature is one of a kind, and I recognized it for what it was. Children of the Light unveil naturally at around age four or five. Tupay children unveil at age seven or eight.”
Victor smiled, as if congratulating himself. “I tracked you down by your energy signature. Somehow, your mother managed to give birth before she died. And from what I could make of it all, a mother jaguar came along and took you in as one of her cubs. For four years, you lived around here.” Victor waved his hand toward the jungle. “You lived with the female jaguar and her cubs. She cared for and protected you. And I have no doubt you can shape-shift into a jaguar. Can’t you?”
Shocked, Ana stared at him. “How could you know that?”
“Because Children of the Light begin to learn shape-shifting around age three or four. Your mother was of the jaguar clan, I discovered. You carry her genes.” Victor shrugged lazily. “And you’re just like her.”
Dark Truth Page 15