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his servants.
“The Cahuachi hold sacrificial ceremonies on certain holy nights during winter and summer—nights when the gods descend from the heavens to our world. On one of these nights, we were bound by rope, taken to the Site of Offerings, and then lined up next to the animals. Then, another group arrived—the Kapras, and your father was amongst them. That’s how I know about your father’s death. I witnessed it. Fortunately… well, fortunately for me at the time, I was able to cut through the ropes with a sharp stone I picked up with my dainty toes on the way to the site. They were concentrated with their rituals and luckily I wasn’t spotted immediately. I was able to sprint towards the cliffs and make my way into the jungle before they noticed my absence. I had escaped the Cahuachi. However, being a prominent member of the Council made it easy for the witches to realize exactly who was missing.
“I stayed in the jungle, knowing that the servants of Supay would be searching for me in Nazca. After exactly thirty days of living in the thick of the jungle, I returned to Nazca, only to find that my family was missing. I assume they figured I had died in the jungle but they needed to cover all of their bases. They probably had guessed that I had spoken about my theories to my family before I left on my journey. They feared my family would speak out and, in turn, ignite a revolution from the angry citizens. They simply went in and took them! I never saw them again. It’s been over fourteen years, you know. My wife and children were innocent. They didn’t have anything to do with this, but the Cahuachi demons didn’t care. They then defiled my reputation by making up an outrageous story of how I had gone mad and killed my family. The people of Nazca were told to capture me and imprison me. That is why I lived on the streets. I let my beard grow long in order to disguise my youthful, chiseled face. What a pity! However, I was foolish to think that I could hide my prominent, beautiful features with facial hair. It only worked for a while, until some keen-eyed peasant recognized my heavenly eyes and sent out a message to Cahuachi.” The old man ran his sly fingers through his silver crown of hair and continued, “They came searching for me and I escaped back into the jungle. I built myself this fine little-cottage. Not too bad-eh? I moved the boulders and heavy stones with the help of my bad llama, my only companion ever since, and used that cart on wheels over there… and that my dear friends, was the chronicle of my crusade.”
There was a long silence between them. The three sat there in deep thought. Apaec was the first to get up. He walked to the door, looked back at them, and exited the living room without saying a word. Everything he had just heard had been overwhelming. Micay then looked over to Kusco in shock. She had just realized something extremely significant. She gasped, “My goodness… Khuno!”
“Excuse me, child, what was that?”
“Khuno…! He’s my friend. My goodness, he, he was chosen, just like Apaec’s father! What’s gonna happen to him? Kusco! What are they gonna do to him?! Apaec! Apaec!” She shrieked. “Come back!” She was hysterically and breathing heavily.
Kusco looked at her concentrated. He said, “He was chosen you say…? How long ago…?”
“It-It was two days ago, well, I mean… two days ago when he told us. I think he said it was during the rainy season… yes, the rainy season. Yesterday morning, before we came here looking for you, I went to see him, but he wasn’t home. His mom told me he was out with the Kapras on an expedition. That’s why he didn’t come with us.”
Kusco sat concentrated and deeply sighed. He said, “Hmmm… I’m sorry to inform you of this, my dear, but I believe your friend is with the witches. These are the rainy days when they practice the rituals at the site. How old is your friend?”
“Seventeen,” Micay quickly answered.
“Of course! Oh no… I’m terribly sorry my child, but I fear he will be sacrificed. They want his blood,” he said as he looked at her fixedly.
“No… NO, they can’t! He… he’s…” She began to sob uncontrollably into her lap. She murmured, “I love him.” She then looked up at the old man and said, “We have to save him! We have to… This is wrong. They can’t kill him. We have to do something!”
“I’m afraid it might be too late. They need his blood before the gods arrive at the site. They usually sacrifice during the first week. They start off with the young ones.”
“Well then, we must leave immediately,” Apaec said firmly from the door. He had been standing by the door the whole time listening in on their conversation. “How far away is this place Kusco?”
“It’s about three days. It’s beyond our territories—the desert flats behind these mountains.”
“Then you must lead the way, old friend. Please, we cannot do this without you.”
“Children, I’m sorry, it’s much too dangerous. We can’t just go in there and take him away. It’s not that simple. They’ll kill us all!”
“I don’t care. We can’t just sit here and let him die! We have to at least try,” Apaec insisted.
Micay, still sobbing in her lap, then spoke, “He’s right. We can’t just stay here. We have to do something. It’s the very first step to end all of this. We have to go. Look Mr. Kusco, with all due respect, we‘re going to rescue him with or without you, but without you, it will be nearly impossible. I assure you, we will only get ourselves lost.”
Kusco shook his head and said, “Look, you can go down to the city tomorrow and inform the Kapra about this—”
Micay loudly interrupted, “No! We can’t do that! We’ll be wasting precious time! He could be killed during that time. We have to do this alone, there’s no other way. We need you, Mr. Kusco… please help us!”
Kusco stood up from his stool and walked over to look out his window—as to catch a breeze to aid his nuisance. He flicked the remnants of the devoured fruit outside, and hesitantly agreed with a thick mumble, “Very well then… what have I to lose anyway?”

4
The Sacrifice of the White Panther

Three bitter nights later, on the infamous desert flats, and after a long journey through the jungly mountains, the night was gloomy and overcast, supplemented with a cool stormy-breeze that chilled the teens to their bones. They were capped by the eminent humidity (that was a rare treat in such arid desert) that fed to the eeriness of the atmosphere. Yet, there they were, two beloved friends, observing the peculiar ritual on what would become the most interesting night of their lives—a night they would never forget. They were laying face down on the ground and leaning over on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the bizarre ceremony that they had only heard of; but there it was, it was real, as real as the risen hairs on their skin. They could hear the heavy beat of leather drums that pulsated with the faint chant of the magic people. They could see them dancing aberrantly on the carved paths. Small fires had been placed strategically alongside these paths, and a few more superior fires culminated the illumination of the site. The chanting soon developed into screeching and howling, and the dancing became that of something else—something much more of eccentric. The eeriness that congested the atmosphere could have been slashed with a blade. Kusco was already down at the site, hiding between the tall rocks searching for Khuno. He was equipped with a sharp-stone blade, a long wooden spear, and most significantly, his tenacious courage. His plan was simple: once spotting the young boy, he was to scamper in and cut the ropes that bound him. Afterwards, they would make a run for it. It was a simple plan, but it was also a hazardous and lunatic plan. It was definitely the only plan they could improvise in such a short notice. What else could they do? The old man had firmly instructed the teenagers to stay hidden on the cliffs while he went down to carry out the mission. He would meet up with them afterwards back on the cliffs and they would all run away into the massive maze of the untamed jungle.

Meanwhile, on the high cliffs…

Apaec and Micay laid face down trying to distinguish what was happening down below. They saw the people herded like cattle into a straight line for sacrifice, just as Kusco had described. The ceremony had begun and Micay squinted harder as she strained her eyes to see who was first to be sacrificed. “Gods!” screeched Micay as she grasped Apaec’s left arm, “The sacrifice, Apaec…! Look: It’s Khuno! It’s him! Look: They’re gonna sacrifice him!” she gasped. “He, he, he… aaah, it‘s Khuno! I know it‘s him!” Her voice trembled.
“Are you sure?” Apaec asked.
“Look: he’s laying face down and they’re going to sacrifice him!” she yelled again “Apaec, it’s just like Kusco said…” And then, abruptly, the motion they witnessed was as obvious as the daunting expression that animated their young faces. A Cahuachi witch who wore a bizarre horny-mask dripping with blood (an uncanny amalgam of creatures of the jungle) held a long, heavy blade high above his head that too, was dripping in blood, gripping it with both hands. He violently swung the long blade downward and decapitated the boy. Blood splattered upon the mask. The head rolled off the flat stone and bounced on the desert floor, stopping supine. Micay could’ve sworn it was looking right up at her. There was a long pause and Apaec and Micay stood in shock. They couldn’t believe what they had just witnessed: the horrendous assassination of their friend: a mere, innocent juvenile. Micay shrieked and gasped for air. They felt the warmth of their blood rushing through their veins and the adrenaline that throbbed by their knotted stomachs. A few minutes passed and they could still see the headless body of the boy who had, only a few days ago, prepared them an exquisite breakfast. “We have to go Apaec!” she told him as she broke down crying.
“No, wait,” he stressed, “wait… we have to wait for Kusco.”
“Pleease! I’m scared!” she replied and began to scream. “I want to go home! They killed him! [Heavy gasping] Oh-god, Apaec… they k-k-killed him!” She stuttered in hyperventilation.
She forcefully grabbed his arm, threw herself into his grasp, and drained her tears into his arms. He held her tightly and told her firmly, “Be quiet, Micay, they’ll hear us! Now, are you completely sure it was him?”
“Yeesss!” she screamed. Her face expressed utter fear. “How could you not see? Look: it’s that damn white-panther! You can make it out even from up here!” she yelled.
“I… I’m not all that sure, Micay. We have to make sure.”
“No… please! It’s too dangerous.” She panted and whimpered continuously, barely making any sense. “What if they see you? What if they sacrifice you too?”
“They can’t! I am Apaec. I am royalty. I am too important. Can’t you see? They wouldn’t dare. I have to go, Micay.”
Micay looked up at him, still in his arms, and said: “They don’t know who you are. What makes you believe they know who you are?”
He looked down
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