As she stomped past Anlon on her way to the van, Anlon called to her. “Hold up.”
Pebbles stopped and turned as Anlon ran up beside her and asked, “What’s going on?”
Looking past him, she focused on Jennifer. “Is your tablet up front?”
“Uh, yeah. Driver’s door. Why?”
Without answering, Pebbles walked around to the driver’s door and pulled the tablet from the door pocket. She immediately realized it was too bright outside to see the screen and so Pebbles ducked her head inside the vehicle and laid the tablet on the driver’s seat. She called out. “Password, please.”
Jennifer rattled it off as she and the others gathered around Pebbles. They pelted her with questions, but Pebbles ignored them. She opened the map app, typed in Paracas and waited for the screen to fill in the map. It was slow going, as the map populated the screen in chunks, as if the tablet was completing a jigsaw puzzle. Pebbles turned and looked at the bewildered group around her.
“The city was here. Well, a bit down the slope from here. But this angle,” Pebbles spun toward the cove and spread out her arms to form an alley, “was Citali’s view from her window in the temple tower.” Turning back to her audience, she continued. “I don’t want to waste time explaining the vision, I’ll tell you on the way.”
“Way where?” Anlon asked.
“The river.” Pebbles looked down at the tablet. The map had finished loading. Her eyes scanned the area surrounding Paracas. She spotted the river. “Good. There’s a road that runs alongside of it. Come on, let’s get going.”
“Wait a minute.” Anlon’s hand rested on her shoulder. “Why?”
A pique of annoyance flowed through Pebbles. “To follow the river.” She looked to Cesar and the necropolis curator. “Are there any archaeological sites in caves along the river?”
While the two men conferred in Spanish, Anlon appealed to Pebbles. “Hey, can we take a deep breath here? Before we go anywhere, I’d like to hear what you saw in the vision. I’m sure everyone else wants to hear it as well.”
“Look. Do you want to find out what Citali was protecting or not?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then we follow the river and find the cave. It’s that simple.”
Cesar cleared his throat. Pebbles turned toward him. “There are many cave and cavern sites in Peru, but the closest of any historical significance is the Temple of the Moon. However, it is over eight hundred kilometers from here, at Huayna Picchu, next to the famous Machu Picchu site.”
Pebbles picked up the tablet and typed in Temple of the Moon in the search box of the map app. When the pin marking its location appeared on the screen, Pebbles zoomed out and studied its position relative to Paracas. It was just a bit north of due east from the mouth of the Pisco River, and the squiggly road that abutted the river as it snaked into the Andes, Route 28A, linked up with another squiggly road, Route 28B, that led to Huayna Picchu. Pebbles pointed at the two roads and asked the curator, “These roads are through mountain passes, correct?”
“Si, senorita.”
“They both look like they run along rivers for long stretches.”
“The rios are mostly dry now, but, si, you are correct. It was easier to build roads along the contours of the rios rather than go over the mountains.”
“All right. Then the Temple of the Moon is where we’re headed.”
“Pardon me, Pebbles, but I must point out — the Temple of the Moon is an Incan site,” Cesar said. “It was almost assuredly built a thousand years after the end of the Paracas civilization.”
“Aren’t a lot of ruins built on top of older ruins?” Pebbles asked.
“Yes, that is often the case.”
“So, couldn’t that be true of the Temple of the Moon?”
“Yes, but there is no physical evidence to suggest—”
“No physical evidence, yet, you mean,” Pebbles interjected.
“I don’t mean to be combative, Pebbles, but there are likely tens of thousands of caves in the Andes between here and the Temple of the Moon,” said Cesar. “Do you really believe Citali bypassed all of these and walked eight hundred kilometers through the mountains to hide her relics at Huayna Picchu?”
“I don’t know, but weren’t you the one who told us Muran’s manifesto said she hunted the last of the oracles for three months? If she kept close to the river, she could have covered eight hundred kilometers in ninety days. That’s less than ten K per day. That should have been manageable, even with elevation changes, don’t you think?”
Anlon joined the debate. “We don’t know how much of the three months she spent in the mountains, Pebbles. The manifesto said Muran followed the oracle through the desert, over the mountains and down rivers before she caught up to her in the jungle.”
The vision of Rashana dangling Nonali’s head flashed through Pebbles’ mind. She gritted her teeth and glared at Anlon. “Look. If you don’t trust me, just take me into town and I’ll get my own car. I’m going up that river. I’m going to the Temple of the Moon. If I spot something on the way that takes me in a different direction, I’ll call you and let you know where I’ve gone, but I’m done arguing about it. Jen, give me the keys.”
She pushed Anlon aside and held out her hand toward Jennifer. Anlon stepped in between the two women and glared back at Pebbles. “We go together, or we don’t go at all.”
“Fine, then everybody get in the van and let’s get going. We’re wasting daylight.”
“Not until we agree on the game plan.”
“I’ve told you the game plan. Follow the river, just like Citali did, and—”
“Think about it, Pebbles. Citali didn’t follow the river. At least not initially. She went into the desert first,” Anlon said.
“You don’t know that.”
“Actually, I think I do. Hear me out.” Anlon grabbed Jennifer’s tablet from the driver’s seat. Pebbles watched him reposition the center of the map app over Paracas and tap an icon that toggled the screen to show a satellite view of the area. Pointing at the screen, he said, “Mereau, I’ll defer to you on military tactics, so correct me if I’m wrong.” Anlon turned to Pebbles. “In your temple vision, the one where she fights off the intruders, you said the soldiers from the city went north to confront Muran’s forces, and that most of the people from the city fled south. Why would Citali have fled north to the Pisco River, right into Muran’s forces?
“Further, even though we don’t know the order of your visions, doesn’t it seem more likely the desert one precedes the mountain, river or jungle visions? I mean, look at the map. Once you get into the Andes, there’s no desert unless Citali backtracked out of the mountains and went due south. Doesn’t it make more sense she fled south into the desert from the get-go, and then curled back north toward the Pisco River later on? Like here, through this pass where Route 1S heads into the mountains. And look…” Anlon zoomed in on the road. “There’s a river right next to Route 1S too. Rio Ica. Who’s to say that’s not the river she followed? Am I wrong, Mereau? Isn’t that a more logical escape route?”
“In light of what we know, it does seem the more prudent route for Citali to have taken.”
“Excuse me for disagreeing,” Sanjay said, “but do we know how close Muran’s forces were? Maybe she had enough time to reach Rio Pisco before Muran’s army arrived.”
“You forget Citali was assaulted in her own temple,” Mereau said. “Muran’s spies were already in the city. Some, no doubt, stayed hidden outside the temple. It would have been an easy matter to follow her. In fact, from Pebbles’ visions, we know Citali was pursued at every turn throughout her escape. Better to not give away your intended destination, better to hope to lose your pursuers by taking an unexpected route.”
It was hard for Pebbles to quell the urge to fish the keys from Jen’s pocket, tell them all to go to hell and take off in the van. But the longer she listened to Anlon and Mereau, the more she realized she was wrong, and they were ri
ght, albeit for an entirely different reason. The message delivered by Rashana encouraged Citali to follow the river and lead Muran to the cave or end up like Nonali.
The visit had been a set up. Though the vision had not lasted long enough for Pebbles to see Citali reach the same conclusion, she obviously realized it at some point. It came down to this: if Nonali had fully revealed how to find the relics, why would Muran have needed Citali to lead her to them?
Muran must have hoped the content of the message, combined with the shock value of seeing Nonali’s severed head, would have caused Citali to panic and act to protect the relics, which meant Muran likely had spies in the city long before the failed kidnapping, waiting around so they could track Citali when she left the city.
“So, that’s why she stayed so long,” Pebbles whispered. “She felt trapped.”
CHAPTER 17: FOLLOW THE RIVER
Driving toward the Nazca Desert
South of Paracas, Peru
September 26
They returned to Paracas to eat lunch, gather provisions and gas up the van. During lunch, Pebbles had shared the full vision of Rashana’s visit. She was still being peppered with questions as they started out of Paracas on Route 1S. Concerned she would miss a clue as to the route Citali had followed, she cut off the conversation and kept her eyes peeled on the surrounding landscape.
There was desert, lots of desert, in every direction. As they angled away from the coast and drove inland, vineyards began to appear by the roadside. Pebbles looked past them, her eyes focused on the Andes drawing closer with each mile. It was probably why she did not see the road sign until Jennifer blurted, “Holy crap, look at that!”
When Pebbles turned to look where Jennifer was pointing, her mouth fell open. The two-line sign was printed in Spanish above and English below. It read: HUACACHINA 10km. Visit South America’s only desert oasis.
Pebbles felt dizzy. An image flashed into her mind. She was crawling up a dune like a lizard, her body inches above the sand. When she reached the top, she peeked over the edge. There, in the valley of sand below, was a glistening pond surrounded by lush bushes and palm trees. Citali’s thoughts echoed in Pebbles’ mind.
They think me a fool. Do they not notice their own footprints in the sand? Or are they too thirsty to care?
Citali backed down the dune and turned her gaze toward the mountains.
Others wait for me in the pass, I am sure of it.
Pulling the hood over her head, Citali looked around for the nearest dune casting a shadow. As she began to walk toward it, she devised her plan.
I will wait until nightfall and go deeper into the desert. They will not dare to follow. Then I will sneak into the mountains.
The vision faded. Pebbles looked up to see Anlon staring at her from the front passenger seat. “You want to go see it or head up into the mountains? Junction is coming up.”
He handed her Jennifer’s tablet showing their approach to the town of Ica. On the right, the Huacachina oasis was highlighted as a point of interest. On the left, she could see Route 1S leading into the mountains.
“Neither. Go through Ica. Keep going south.”
Anlon took back the tablet and gazed at the map. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Citali did come this way, but Muran’s goons were waiting for her. She went farther south, out into that big-ass desert.”
Sixty miles of desolate terrain later, Anlon queried Pebbles once again. “Are you sure about this? We’re coming up on a sizeable river, the Rio Grande, but the road that runs alongside it looks as if it dead-ends halfway into the Andes.”
“I’m sure. Just keep going.”
Inside, however, Pebbles was not sure at all. She closed her eyes and willed guidance from Citali. She replayed what she could recall of the scene of ascending the mountain trail. There had been a village below the mountain. She remembered that from the dots of light coming from torches and firepits. Thinking back, Citali had seemed neither tired, thirsty nor hungry. Had she stopped to rest, had someone given her aid?
A vision flickered into view in her mind. It was a banquet. There were others with heads elongated like Citali’s. The banquet was outside, under the stars, with cauldrons of fire surrounding the courtyard where they ate. It was not a festive occasion. The people who sat in a circle around Citali wore somber expressions.
Pebbles was aware of a hand clasping hers. She opened her eyes and looked down. Mereau was seated next to her but he was asleep, his hands folded across his chest, his head leaning against the window.
She felt a squeeze. A voice said, “Fear not, sister. We will stop them here.”
Even with her eyes open, Pebbles saw his face. The man smiled, his neck adorned with a necklace similar to Citali’s. Similar, but not exact. A wind pressed through the courtyard and nearly extinguished the cauldrons. Pebbles shivered. Something heavy covered her shoulders. She looked down and saw a fur. Lifting her eyes, she could see the outline of cacti beyond the walls of the courtyard. Beyond that, a large tree. She heard herself speak. “You cannot stop her, brother. She comes to take. She comes to kill.”
“She may come to kill, but she will never take. For twenty-eight of our fathers, we have protected what was hidden. Our family has survived droughts, famine, wars, the trembles of the Earth, the fires it belches from underneath. This tyrant from the north is but a flea compared to that which we’ve endured.”
“But she has killed our sister, she has burned my city.”
“It is true. But the people believe in us. They know what we have done for them, what our fathers did for their fathers back to the day of darkness. They will die to protect us until the new ones are of age.”
Pebbles’ eyes shot open. “Pull over! Stop the van!”
A series of images sped through her mind. A sprawling city on a mountaintop surrounded by wildflowers and cacti…creeping through the darkness underneath a ledge, the black maws of three caves ahead…entering the cave, a hand covering her mouth…standing at the prow of a boat, the riverbanks lined with torches…the teenaged girl crying as she knelt by the fire…
Pebbles became aware of the van slowing. Its brakes squeaked as it came to a stop. A semi coming from the opposite direction passed by, throwing up a cloud of sand that coated the windows. The sound of sand grains pelting the vehicle sounded like rain.
“What’s the matter?” Anlon asked.
“Not only does Citali have a sister, she has a brother. And there are children. Citali’s brother called them new ones. The girl who was speared and thrown into the fire. I think she was one of them.”
She turned around to look back at Cesar and Sanjay, who occupied the third row. Her first question was to Cesar. “There was a stone city on a mountaintop. It was big, but it wasn’t Machu Pichu. I know what that looks like, and this wasn’t it. It was more square, flatter terrain. The valley below was green, you know, not just a rocky landscape. And it was weird because there were lots of cactus around the…”
A shiver suddenly raced up her spine as another vision came into focus…cacti arranged around a tall tree with snaking roots…buildings painted red, gold and white…a wall with embedded seashells…people in white tunics trimmed with crimson and gold…
Pebbles turned to Mereau. “They had a replica of the Seybalrosa monument. No wonder Citali was so confused to see the ocean.” She gripped his arm. “And they had mosaics of seashells, just like the terrace on the cliff. It was just like a mini Munuoria. Only the buildings were not as ornate, more stone-block-looking than polished marble. And they were painted instead of their natural colors.”
“Painted, you say?” Cesar asked.
“Yes.” Pebbles redirected her attention to Cesar. “Does any of this ring any bells? Is there a site like this in the Andes?”
“Were the buildings red, by any chance?”
“Yes! Not all, but some. Others were white, a few gold. Do you know it? Do you know where it is?”
Cesar nodded. “You may ha
ve just solved a long-wondered mystery. The site is near a modern city called Ayacucho. The site is known as Wari, or Huari. It was a massive city, the largest settlement of ancient Peru. Some say as many as sixty thousand people lived there at its peak. As I recall, it flourished between 600 and 1000 CE, but the first buildings are believed to have been built earlier in the common era.”
Pebbles looked around at Anlon. He was tapping the screen of Jennifer’s tablet. “Have you found it?”
“Working on it.”
“What is the mystery surrounding the city?” Sanjay asked Cesar.
“It was home to a number of civilizations, each building onto the creations of earlier occupiers, but no one knows which culture was the first to build, or why they abandoned it. However, archaeologists do know one thing about them. They loved oysters. Oysters with colorful red and white shells.”
“Found it,” Anlon said. “Looks like the best way to get there is turn around, head back to Ica and start up into the Andes from there. It’s going to be a long drive, though. From where we are now, app says it’s an eight-hour drive to Ayacucho. Add a stop or two along the way and we probably won’t get there until close to midnight.”
Cesar laughed. “Don’t believe it, Anlon. If the app says eight hours, count on twelve. May I see the map?”
Pebbles relayed the tablet to Cesar, who studied the map for a few minutes, the frown on his face deepening with each passing second.
“What’s the matter, Cesar?” Pebbles asked.
“I’m afraid you will not like what I have to say.”
As a practical matter, he explained, the best route to Ayacucho started in Pisco, the original path into the Andes that Pebbles had wanted to take. The other nearby route options into the mountains, he told them, were treacherous. “While I have never been to the Wari ruins, I have traveled to many other sites in the Andes. Most of these roads on the map are not paved and they are very narrow. There are hairpin turns next to precipitous drops, few towns and one encounters wild vicuñas crossing the roads when least expected.”
Priestess of Paracas Page 20
