Excavation

Kamapak witnessed the reunion with clear pleasure. Maggie repeated her question with Denal’s help. “I don’t understand. Sapa Inca?” Maggie had never thought this small village had any distinct leader, let alone one of the revered god-kings of the Incas. “Who is your Sapa Inca?”

The shaman frowned when Denal translated her words, then spoke slowly. Denal turned to her. “He say he gave you the name of the Sapa Inca before. It be Inkarri. He live at the Temple of the Sun.”

“Inkarri…?” Maggie remembered the mention last night of the beheaded warrior king. Her brows bunched together.

Any further inquiry was interrupted by Sam’s reappearance with Norman. “You are not going to believe this,” Sam said as introduction. He nodded to Norman. “Show her.”

Norman reached to his robe and parted it enough to reveal his bare knee. For a single heartbeat, Maggie frowned, leaning a bit forward but saw nothing out of the ordinary. “I don’t see -” Then it struck her like a dive into a cold lake on a hot day. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!”

Norman’s knee was healed. No, not healed. There was absolutely no sign of the bullet damage. No puckered entry wound, no scar. It was as if Norman had never been injured.

“But that’s not the most amazing thing,” Norman said, drawing both Maggie’s and Sam’s attention.

“What?” the Texan asked.

Norman raised his palms to his face. “My eyes.”

“What about them?” She noticed the photographer’s thick eyeglasses were missing.

The photographer glanced around the plaza, his voice awed. “I can see. My vision is a perfect twenty-twenty.”

Before either student could react, Kamapak raised his arms and voice. His words, booming off the stone walls and stretching across the square, were meant not just for them, but for the entire gathered Incan tribe.

“What’s he saying?” Sam asked Denal as he shouldered his rifle.

Before the boy could answer, Norman spoke dully. “He says this night, when the moon rises to its zenith, the Sapa Inca will come. After many centuries, he will descend from his gold throne and walk among his people.”

Kamapak pointed to the group of students.

Norman finished, wearing a surprised look on his face, “ ‘Here stands the future of our tribe. They will take Inkarri back to cay pacha, the middle world. The reign of the Incas will begin again.’ ”

A roaring cheer rose from the gathered Incas.

Only their group remained silent. Sam stared with his mouth hanging open. Maggie found no words either, so awed was she. How could Norman have known what the shaman had said? Denal moved closer to Maggie, his eyes fearfully locked on Norman.

Shrugging, Norman said, “Hey, don’t look at me for an explanation, guys. I failed first-year Spanish.”

As the celebration continued, Sam sat with Norman on the steps of the plaza. He wanted answers. “So tell us what happened. What is this Temple of the Sun?”

Norman shook his head. He ran a finger over his knee. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” Maggie asked. She sat on Norman’s far side, while Denal rested on a lower step, his eyes on the continuing celebration. The boy was smoking one of the last of his precious cigarettes. Its tip flared like a torch with each long inhalation. After the terrors of the day, Sam could not begrudge Denal this one vice. “What did the temple look like?” Maggie persisted.

Norman turned to her, his eyes both worried and angry. “That’s just it… I don’t know.”

“Then what do you know?” Sam asked.

Norman turned away, his face aglow in the reflected firelight. “I remember being snatched from my bed in our room. I tried to struggle, but I was too weak to offer more than a couple of good kicks at my kidnappers. Soon I was being carried, none too gently, I might add, between two warriors along a path heading south. After about three-quarters of an hour, we hit the south wall of the cone, with that other big black volcano hanging over us. There was a steep climb, and then I saw a sudden dark cut in the rock. A tunnel opening, right through the side of the volcano.”

“Where did it go?” Sam asked, drawing Norman’s gaze.

“I don’t know. But I saw daylight at the end of the tunnel. I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe it connects to the other volcano,” Maggie said. “A path to the Incas’janan pacha.”

“What else?” Sam asked the photographer.

Norman slowly shook his head. “I remember being carried a good way down the shaft until a side cavern appeared ahead. Torchlight was coming from it. As we neared, someone stepped out, greeting my kidnappers with a raised staff.” The photographer glanced away and frowned.

“And?”

“And after that, my mind’s a blank. The next thing I recall is being led back out of the tunnel, the last rays of the setting sun blinding me.” Norman picked at the robe he wore. “And I was wearing this.”