Tapping her hands on the wood frame of the cot, Pebbles said, “Exactly. Where did she get the Sound Stone, A.C.? The one she used to open the Maerlif? It wasn’t in her bag when she left Wari. I saw what she put in the bag. And how did she know how to use the Sound Stone? Same with the Flash Stone. They’re not the kinds of weapons you can just pick up and use the way she used them.”
Anlon shrugged. “Maybe it was like you said earlier — the Tyls were what was given. Maybe the Tyls were passed from Keeper to Keeper or shared among the Seers.”
“But why not show me that? Why hide it?”
“Maybe she didn’t trust you earlier, but now she does. Remember how you said she called you a sorceress at the oasis? And didn’t she say she thought you were Muran’s agent?”
“She did, but I don’t think it is as innocent as that.”
Pebbles stood and walked toward the tent flap.
“Hey, where are you going?” asked Anlon.
“To find Sanjay. I want to talk to him about amnesia.”
Outside the tent, Pebbles saw a large group of people at the far end of the campsite. Among the mix of Tuka’s tribespeople and Pablo’s men, she spotted Mereau gesturing to Tuka with Pablo acting as interpreter. Off to the side, Jennifer, Sanjay and Cesar watched the proceedings.
As Pebbles headed toward Sanjay, Anlon came up beside her. “Amnesia? You think Citali hid the stones from you because she had amnesia?”
Picking up the pace of her strides, Pebbles kept her eyes on Sanjay. “No.”
“Then, I don’t understand.”
When Pebbles and Anlon were within ten feet of the group, heads began to turn their way. The tribespeople began to chatter, several of them bowed toward Pebbles. Jennifer intercepted Pebbles and pulled her aside.
“Good timing,” Jennifer said. “They’re just about ready to start.”
“Start what?” Pebbles asked as Anlon joined them.
“Tuka’s come to show you the way to the hiding place.”
“What? Tonight?” Anlon said. “I thought Mereau told Tuka we were going to visit the waterfall first and then come see him later. Later as in tomorrow.”
Jennifer shrugged. “I guess Tuka misinterpreted what Pablo relayed from Mereau.”
“But I’m not ready. I don’t know what emblems to wear,” Pebbles said.
“Apparently, that won’t be a problem,” Jennifer said.
Pebbles frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jennifer reached out her hand. “You’ll see. Come on, let’s go chat with Mereau. He’ll fill you in.”
“No. Not right now. I have to chat with Sanjay first. I’ll catch up with you guys in a few minutes.” Pebbles pushed past Jennifer and walked up to Sanjay. Taking him by the hand, she said, “Come with me. We need to talk.”
Moments later, Pebbles and Sanjay were standing alone by the river. In the distance, she could see torchlights illuminating a path up the dark slope of the mountain beyond the campsite.
“Sanjay, do you remember our conversation back on Sol Seaker, about amnesia?”
“Yes.”
“You said my visions could be memories I don’t recall because the original pathways to the memories might have been disrupted due to my coma. You gave the example about forgetting a birthday party because the pathway to the memory of a favorite gift was lost. Do you remember that?”
“Yes. Why?”
“The visions I had earlier today were a lot like the one I had in Churcampa about Citali destroying the lake. They weren’t replays of my recurring visions. They were new visions that contradicted things Citali had shown me before.” Pebbles described the scene with the gold-painted man about the messenger and the scene that appeared to be a prelude to the bonfire vision, then said, “If Citali’s memories found their way to a damaged part of my brain, I’m wondering if the reason I’m seeing contradictions now is because my brain is making new connections to Citali’s memories.”
“Sort of like your example about the birthday party. You said a damaged brain might eventually connect new pathways to the birthday party memory by using different cues related to the memory other than the favorite gift — kids singing happy birthday, tasting a birthday cake. Well, I’ve had a whole bunch of new cues since Jen made the connection between my flicker sketch and the bird carving.”
Head lowered, Sanjay massaged his neck. “You are thinking Citali’s original visions were influenced by your amnesia.”
“Not just my amnesia. Citali’s too.”
Sanjay frowned. “I am not sure what you mean. I can see how amnesia on your part might have influenced the visions. It may, in fact, explain why the visions started out as nightmares. Your mind could not make sense of the bits and pieces of Citali’s memories it encountered as it rewired around the damaged areas of your brain and modified the memories into dreams that made sense to your unconscious mind. But I have a harder time imagining how amnesia in Citali is—”
Pebbles interrupted. “Sanjay, the details in the visions I’m tapping into now are outright contradictions to details in the original visions, and all of the contradictions seem to be about things Citali said or did, and they all seem to show an ugly side of Citali.”
For a short stretch, Sanjay did not answer. He just stared into the blackness across the river. Finally, he said, “You think Citali’s original visions were selective memories.”
“That’s what it seems like to me,” Pebbles said. “She was covering her tracks, mentally, to hide unseemly details she didn’t want to think about, things she didn’t want to remember. But in the process of my brain rewiring around damaged areas, it’s found new pathways to Citali’s real memories.”
“Because your mind has encountered new memory cues.”
“Exactly.”
Sanjay turned to look at Pebbles. “Very interesting…You may be right. What you describe about Citali is analogous to pathological lying behavior. It does happen in some PTSD sufferers. They cannot cope with memories of their trauma, so they literally concoct fake memories out of whole cloth.
“I recall a patient of mine who crashed his car in a moment of road rage. His family was in the car with him and they all died in the accident. He refused to accept what had happened. He told everyone his family was alive and well, just away on vacation. He made up grand stories of where they were, the activities they were enjoying. He would pull out family albums showing pictures of old vacations to prove his stories. For years and years, the lies went on, growing more and more elaborate over time.”
Sanjay paused and looked away from Pebbles. She watched his eyes move back and forth as if searching for answers in the night sky. While maintaining his gaze into the heavens, he said, “You know, it may explain why the visions diminished for a period of time, and why you see only flashes of others. Citali realized at some point she could not control what you saw in the visions. It may be why you have had difficulty summoning her to a sanctuary like the oasis since we left Sol Seaker.”
Pebbles had not considered that possibility, but now Sanjay had mentioned it, there did seem to be a correlation to Citali’s withdrawal and the spate of recent contradictory memories. Pebbles mumbled, “She’s afraid I might discover the truth.”
Moments later, Anlon walked up. “Hey, Tuka and his people are getting restless. I think you need to come over and pay your respects.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry. We’re pretty much finished anyway,” Pebbles said. She turned to Sanjay. “Thank you. That was super helpful.”
When the three of them rejoined the group, Tuka and Mereau were standing in front of the contingent of torch-bearing tribesmen and tribeswomen. Both the men and women were bare-chested, wearing only ceremonial skirts around their waists. Tuka was painted with gold symbols.
Pebbles felt Anlon’s hand on her shoulder, then his whispered voice in her ear. “Looks like Tuka’s the Keeper.”
“Kinda figured that from the paint,” she whispered back. “What do we do? Just pain
t the same designs on me?”
“No. You don’t wear any paint,” Mereau said.
“But the legend says the new one has to wear the emblems and speak the words,” said Pebbles.
“Mistranslation,” Mereau said. “The new one has to bear emblems…present them…which apparently you and I did during our Sound Stone demonstrations…though you have to do it again for real during the ritual.”
“Ritual? You mean when I speak the words?”
“It’s a bit more elaborate than that,” Jennifer said. “I don’t think you’re going to be fired up about it.”
Jennifer leaned closer and began to whisper the details of the ritual in her ear. Pebbles’ eyes widened. She pulled away and turned to face her. “I have to do what?”
CHAPTER 25: RAGING SOUL
Cataratas las Tres Hermanas (Three Sisters Falls)
Otishi National Park, Peru
September 30
The tribespeople lining the way chanted in unison, repeating the same mantra over and over again as Tuka escorted Pebbles up the mountain beside the Three Sisters Falls. During the first leg of the hike, Anlon and the others had been allowed to walk with her, and it was then that Pablo had translated the pledge for them:
New ones will come by water. They will bear the emblems. Say the words to them. If they answer true, light their way to the place of hiding. Return to them what is theirs and they will honor the people, filling their bowls, protecting them from evil and teaching them anew.
But once they reached the spot where the last of the three falls splashed into the stream that fed into the Cutivireni, only Pebbles was allowed to go forward with Tuka.
The trail was steep and slippery, and Pebbles had to stop several times to catch her breath. The spry Tuka, he of the generous belly, showed no sign of weariness. Each time she stopped, he patiently waited and joined in with the chanting.
Pebbles longed to ask how much farther they had to hike, but she doubted Tuka would have understood her question. In any event, she could now tell for herself. Up above, call it a hundred yards away, the torchlit trail ended. Pebbles girded herself for the baptism-like ritual and wondered if seeing the pool up close would trigger new visions.
Would Citali finally come clean or would there be more deceptions? Pebbles thought of the vision where Citali discovered the wreckage of the boat that had carried her children. The limp, mud-caked boy the man brought to Citali had not looked alive to Pebbles. Was the sudden revelation the child was alive an instance of wishful thinking on Citali’s part? A white lie to lessen her sense of guilt? Or had Citali planted the idea of the surviving child to justify to Pebbles her plot to trap and kill Muran? As Pebbles trudged up the mountain, she became convinced it was the latter.
Citali had wanted Pebbles to believe she had a noble motive to sacrifice the villagers — to protect her son, the last of the Munuorian blood line — so she fabricated his survival. But her real motives were about vengeance and desperation more than anything noble.
This realization helped Pebbles to finally arrange the jungle visions in an order that made sense. And the laced-together visions gave Pebbles a clear picture of Citali’s plan after discovering the boat wreckage.
Once she knew for sure her children were dead, Citali sent a messenger to Muran. While Pebbles did not know the content of the message, she inferred from the conversation between Citali and the gold-painted man that it told Muran all the children were dead, and that the distraught Citali was hiding in the jungle village.
There, Citali had laid a trap. She selected a girl from the village who, in the glow of the bonfire, she hoped Muran would believe was Citali. Sobbing, on her knees, the girl had played her part beautifully.
Pebbles imagined Muran must have been stunned to see the burly man spear the girl and chuck her into the fire. Pebbles also imagined Muran must have realized at that moment she had been hoodwinked. Enter Citali with her shout from the edge of the forest.
“I will eat your heart out.”
Oh, that must have really popped some veins in Muran’s neck, Pebbles thought. Seething at Citali’s deception, Muran and her soldiers charged after Citali, chasing her through the woods until they caught up with Citali at the riverbank. Pebbles did not know how much of the vision of the attack on Citali at the riverbank was real or fabricated, but somehow Citali escaped and made it across the river and into a clearing…the same clearing, Pebbles suspected, where Mereau had confronted the tribesmen earlier in the day…the same clearing where Muran took Citali’s life.
Someone lit the forest surrounding the clearing, trapping Muran, her soldiers, Citali and some of the villagers inside. Pebbles assumed it must have been part of Citali’s trap, given the flaming arrows that pierced Muran later in the vision. Citali had known going in that she was going to die; she had said so in the vision after sending off the message to Muran. But Citali had expected Muran to die with her. Only the trap had not played out as she planned. And Citali never knew what happened to Muran after the evil bitch stabbed her in the back and swiped her necklace. She never knew what happened to the relics she had been charged to protect…
Before Pebbles knew it, she and Tuka crested the small plateau where the water from the second falls collected in a pool. Torches had been set around the perimeter of the small pond, making it easy for Pebbles to spot the notch where water emptied and formed the third section of the waterfall. She reminded herself to stay clear of that area so as not to go over the edge.
Looking up at the falls above and then back down at the pool by her feet, Pebbles thought of the mountaintop waterfall near Churcampa and the waterless crater below it. Pebbles closed her eyes and tried to summon Citali.
I’m here. I’ve come all this way.
But inside, she felt no dizziness, no tingling and no memories flickered in her mind. Pebbles knelt down and listened to the sound of the waterfall. She inhaled the aromas of the surrounding foliage and dipped her fingers into the icy pond.
No more hiding. No more trickery. No more lies. Show yourself.
Still nothing. So, Pebbles stood and faced Tuka. She took a deep breath and unslung her backpack. Placing it on the ground by the pond, she unzipped her jacket and then untied her boots. Next to come off was her shirt. Followed by her pants.
When she removed the last of her underclothes, she dipped her toe in the pond. The image of the napkin drawing filled her head. Was it as cold, she wondered, when you brought the children here?
Did you have them practice drawing the Candelabra in the dirt too? Were their squiggles better than the ones you added to my oasis drawing? Did they know what you were going to do, Citali? Or did you lie to them like you lied to me?
Pebbles slipped into the pond. Shivering, she disappeared under the surface, her hands sliding down the curved surface of the bowl-shaped wall. Images flashed through her mind.
…standing on the prow of a boat…a torchlit river…chanting…something heavy lifted above her head…looking up…the limp body of a mud-covered child…
Don’t try that with me, Citali. You’re not the victim. You caused it all to happen. You tried to lure the evil bitch into a confrontation. It was a fight you never had a chance of winning.
Other images raced by…Rashana holding Nonali’s head…smoke in the air near Wari…struggling for the knife…knocking Muran’s mask off…
All on you, Citali, and you know it.
Cold invaded deep into Pebbles’ bones. Her body began to spasm as she sank into darkness. She heard the water ripple. A warm hand wrapped around her wrist.
Is that you, Citali? Are you going to save me? Or hold me under?
The hand squeezed and then pulled. Pebbles, almost completely numb, felt her body rise. When she broke the surface, she looked up to see Tuka’s concerned face. He wrapped his arms underneath hers and pulled her from the pond — a symbolization of a new one arising from the water.
Tuka held her against his warm body. He spoke to her as if comforting a
child. He cleared water from her eyes and covered her in a cloth.
This is how it should have happened, Citali. But it didn’t happen this way, did it? Your son didn’t survive. You made it up. You killed them all. My friend, Sanjay, says I shouldn’t force you to own up to what you did, but I’m tired of you toying with my mind. So, own it, coward.
Pebbles tucked her body into a ball. Tuka squeezed her tight. Though her vision was blurry, she could make out the dark blob that was her backpack. Reaching her arm out from beneath the cloth cover, she tried to grab the bag. On her third try, with Tuka’s help, she succeeded.
Her hand shook so badly she could not find the open pocket. She felt fingers tenderly wrap around her wrist and guide her hand inside the pack. Her fingers brushed up against the scratchy surface of the bowl. Pebbles tried to pinch the Sound Stone in her hand, but it slipped free. She started to cry. Though her body was frozen, it burned like it was on fire.
A hand smoothed her hair. Tuka spoke softly in her ear. Pebbles tried to reply but her jaw wouldn’t move. She clenched her hand inside the pack and cursed Citali.
Coward! Murderer! Own it!
She opened her hand and grasped hold of the Tyl. Her arm cramped as she tried to pull the stone from the pack. With a muffled groan, she hoisted it free. It slipped from her grip and clattered on the edge of the pond. She saw Tuka’s hand catch hold of it before it fell into the water. He guided it to Pebbles’ chest and closed her arms around it.
Suddenly, the weight and warmth of his body was gone. Pebbles fell over, the Sound Stone clutched to her chest. She looked up to see Tuka raising his hands to the black sky, acting out his part of the spell.
May the stars light your way.
Crawling onto her knees, Pebbles held up the Sound Stone toward Tuka to perform her parts of the ceremony — presenting the emblem, the Sound Stone, and speaking her part of the spell. Without the strength to stand, she tried to speak the words. Nothing would come. Tuka smiled and pulled her up. He wrapped his arms around her and held her body against his, Tuka’s way of helping Pebbles act out the word she was supposed to speak.
Priestess of Paracas Page 30