Anthony Horowitz - Evil Star

“We have entered more than a new millennium. We are on the threshold of a new world and we believe that one day we will be able to regain our rightful place. The Incas will live again with our own laws, our own justice, our own peace. But we will have to fight for it – and our enemies are more deadly than the conquistadors ever were. The Old Ones. We know about them. We’ve always known about them. They mean to destroy the new world before it is even born. And they are here in Peru.”

Again, the Inca raised his hand. At once another man entered the throne room, walking with the help of a stick. He was wearing a poncho that was as grey as himself. His entire body was hunched over. His arms and legs were all bone. Richard nudged Matt. This was the amauta he’d been talking about.

“Tell them,” Huascar commanded.

“Before the sun has risen and set three times, the Old Ones will break through the gate that was created in Peru before the world began,” the amauta said. He spoke in English. His voice was surprisingly strong. “I have read the signs in the sky and on the land. The birds fly where they should not fly. There are too many stars in the heavens at night. A terrible disaster is a heartbeat away and perhaps all our hopes will come to nothing. One boy will stand against the Old Ones and alone he will fall. Maybe he will die. This I do not know.

“But not all will be lost. Five defeated them at the dawn of time and five will defeat them again. That is the prophecy. This boy is one of the Five. This boy also.” He pointed first at Matt, then at Pedro. “The others will follow and when the Five come together they will have the strength to defeat the Old Ones. Then the last great war will take place and the new world will begin.”

He fell silent.

“You say the gate will open three days from now,” Richard muttered. “Do you know where it is?”

The Inca prince shook his head. “We have searched for it. We have never found it.”

“Then where do you suggest we go next?” Richard hadn’t meant to sound rude, but he was aware that he had been even as he spoke the words and he flinched, wondering if he was about to find out what it felt like to have two metres of golden spear in his back.

But the Inca did not seem offended. His face hadn’t changed. He gestured at Atoc, who took out a sheet of paper and laid it in front of them. Matt recognized it at once. It was the page that Pedro had taken from the photocopier. It had been in the back pocket of his jeans. He wondered when Atoc had taken it.

“This the only clue,” Atoc said.

“What does it say?” Matt asked. He had been wondering about the strange verse ever since Pedro had found it.

On the night when the white bird flies Before the place of Qolqa There will the light be seen The light that is the end of all light.

And below that, the two words – INTI RAYMI – and the blazing sun.

As Atoc translated, Matt felt his heart sink. The paper had obviously been important enough for Salamanda to want to copy it. But why did its message have to be so complicated? He had thought the lines would tell him what he needed to know about the gate. They told him nothing at all.

The old amauta shook his head. “Inti Raymi…” he said.

“Inti Raymi is the most important day in the Inca calendar,” the prince explained. “It is the time of the summer solstice when the sun is at its furthest point south of the equator. June the twenty-fourth. Today is the twenty-first.”

There were three days left. Just as the amauta had said.

“What about the place of Qolqa?” Richard asked. “Do you know where that is?”

The amauta glanced at the Inca ruler but he knew the answer already. “Qolqa is a Nazcan word,” he said.

“They were talking about Nazca -” Matt said excitedly – “Salamanda and the others. They said they were looking for a platform in the Nazca Desert.”

“The pictures on this paper would very much indicate the desert,” the Inca agreed. “But that is on the other side of Peru, back where you’ve come from. We must give serious thought to what we do next. If this page told Salamanda what he needed to know, it can tell us too. There is a professor who lives in Nazca who has made many studies of the area. If there is anyone in the country who can make sense of this, she can.

I will speak with her tonight.”

“Are you on the phone here?” Richard asked.

Huascar smiled for the first time. “This is an ancient city,” he said. “We are very remote. But this is still the twenty-first century. We have mobile phones and we even have a satellite connection to the Internet. Please, try not to think of us as primitive.”

He stood up.

“My people wish to see you,” he said. “The fact that two of the Five are with us is a cause for celebration, no matter what the future may bring.” He raised his hands. “Let the feast begin.”

Night had fallen and the stars had come out in their millions. The entire city of Vilcabamba was filled with lights and music, the thin wail of the panpipes echoing above the deeper beating of the drums. Several bonfires had been lit and there were pigs turning on spits, chicken and lamb baking in clay pots, great chunks of pork on skewers and bubbling cauldrons of stew. The air carried the smell of roasting fat and the sparks leapt up and crackled.

There were at least five hundred people – men, women and children – in the sacred plaza. This was the rectangle of grass around which everything else had been built. More people looked down from the platforms and terraces above. Many of the Incas had put on their ceremonial clothes. There were headdresses made of feathers and gold, brilliantly coloured robes, gold collars and bracelets, golden shields and swords and gold jewellery, fabulously wrought in the shape of pumas, crouching warriors and gods. People were dancing. Many were eating and drinking. All of them wanted to see Matt, to greet him and to shake his hand.

Matt was sitting with Richard and Pedro. He had introduced the two of them before the feast began.

“I’m really glad to meet you, Pedro,” Richard said. “Thank you for looking after Matt.”

Pedro nodded, although Matt wondered if he had really understood.

The night drew on. The music became louder and the wine and beer flowed faster. Matt noticed Richard emptying yet another goblet – but he himself had probably drunk more beer than was good for him too. And why not? he thought. For just one night he was safe, among friends. He remembered what the amauta has said. The gate would open in three days. One boy would stand against the Old Ones and one boy would fall. Would it be he or Pedro? Or had the amauta been talking about someone else? Whatever the answer, Matt knew that this might be his only chance to relax and enjoy himself before he was plunged back into the dangers that lay outside. Richard had already told him: they were going to leave the next day.

And then the music stopped, the crowd grew silent and the prince of the Incas stepped out onto a terrace in front of his palace. Once again he spoke in English, and although he didn’t raise his voice, the words rang out for all to hear.

“This is how the Inca world began,” he exclaimed. “This is the story that has been passed down through the generations…”

He paused. Somewhere a baby cried until its mother shushed it.

“According to our ancestors, a long time ago there was only darkness. The land was bare and the people lived like animals. Then the father of all things – we call him Viracocha, the Sun – decided to send his son down to teach the people how to live properly, how to cultivate the fields and build houses for themselves.

“And that is how Manco Capac came into the world. He rose out of the waters of Lake Titicaca, son of the Sun, the first of the Incas. Manco travelled across South America until at last he came to a valley near Cuzco. Here he plunged a gold rod into the earth, for this was the place where he had decided to found the Inca Empire.