Curse of the Condor (17 page)

“Forgive me,” he said, blessing himself with his cross. “But for some reason I just can’t help myself.” He pushed aside a rock and saw the hole leading into the cave. He looked back over his shoulder once more before entering.

He emerged shortly with a small flat emblem of a crystal condor clutched in his hand. He replaced the stone across the entrance, and looking over his shoulder once more, he hurried back to camp.

A shadow in the trees followed him quietly. Stalking him like a predator and its prey. But it wasn’t a animal. It was a man.

Ryder quickly scribbled a note and stuffed the crystal condor and the letter into an envelope and then into his pack. Then he shut off the flashlight and lay down.

A twig snapped in the forest, and Ryder sat upright.

“Who’s there?” he whispered, but there was no answer. Conrado snored as he slept, his hat pulled low over his eyes. The other two missionaries joined in sleep from their small tent a ways away.

Another snap, and this time Ryder stood up and grabbed his flashlight, shining it up into the trees. A Jivaro man with a blowgun stood facing him, his face unclear.

He lifted the gun to his mouth and shot a dart into Ryder’s neck. Ryder fell to the ground, shouting out for help, but his words did not come. Then the tribesman swung down on a vine, bare feet padding over to Conrado. He picked up Conrado’s blowgun and a poisoned dart. He made his way to Ryder, pulling his own dart out of the man’s neck. Ryder clutched  his hand to his chest, moving backwards, eyes opened in fear. Then the Jivaro loaded the poisoned dart into Conrado’s gun. He brought it to his mouth and in one sharp blow, the dart lodged itself in the exact same spot as before. Ryder’s body went limp instantly, his dead form falling back to the ground.

Then the Jivaro quickly replaced Conrado’s blowgun on his sleeping form, but put it in his hand.

Conrado, in his spirit form shouted out and he tried to move. The Jivaro man looked up to the rocky ledge which held Conrado’s condor body and their eyes met. He knew now who had killed Ryder, and it wasn’t him!

“No!” shouted Conrado, jerking out of his vision, finding himself once again sitting on the hut floor with Toco.

"You saw the one who killed your friend?" asked the shaman softly.

"Yes!" said Conrado, willing his lungs to breathe and his heart to slow down a beat. “The condor showed me. I was one with the condor. He is truly my spirit guide.”

Toco smiled and nodded his head. “So you now believe, my son. But tell me. Who was it who killed Ryder?”

“It can’t be,” said Conrado shaking his head. “The condor must be wrong.”

“The condor is never wrong. The spirit tells the truth. Tell me the name of the murderer.”

“The man who killed my best friend is also my tribal brother,” he said.

The chief’s brow furrowed. “I should have suspected it was Motmot. He was always so jealous of you.”

“No. It wasn’t Motmot who killed Ryder.”

“Then who was it,
El Condor
?”

“It was another of my brothers. Someone whom I’ve trusted and befriended more than anyone else. It was Hoatzin.”

Chapter 23

Jetta followed the missionaries through the jungle, checking the trees occasionally, hoping for Conrado to come to her rescue. Even though she hated the man for killing her brother, she had the feeling he would never do anything to hurt her. More than she could say for these goons who kept poking their guns in her back and yanking her roughly to her feet every time she fell.

“So where’s the cave?” asked the man named Fermin, huffing and puffing, obviously not used to treks in the jungle.

“It’s here somewhere,” snarled Prospero. “Look around. It’s partially hidden.”

Just then the condor descended from the sky, landing atop a rock high above the ground. Prospero looked up and smiled.

“That’s it!” he cried, pointing toward it.

“What’s it?” asked Arlo, looking at Fermin who only shrugged his shoulders.

“The condor always protects the cave. If he landed there, than the cave is hidden below.”

“I don’t see a cave,” surveyed Arlo. Jetta didn’t see one either. But Prospero was certain. He grabbed Jetta with his good hand and pulled her toward the condor.

Jetta didn’t like the way his fingers pushed into her arm, nor did she like the way the condor stared at them. It sent a shiver through her. She was certain this was the same condor she’d seen sitting on top of Ryder’s grave. Didn’t Conrado say the condor appearing always meant trouble?

Prospero released her arm. Jetta tried to make a run for it, but Fermin caught her and brought her back.

“I should just shoot the bitch for all the trouble she’s causing.”

“You do that and I’ll send you into the cave yourself to collect the treasure,” Prospero warned. Prospero pulled aside some vines, and Jetta could see the etchings. The condor watched them, scrutinizing from above.

“Roll away the stone,” he shouted to Arlo, and when he did, Jetta could see the dark, small opening.

“We’ve found it!” shouted Arlo, moving closer.

“Careful,” Prospero warned him with a motion of his hand. “I’m not sure how close we can get before we’re cursed.” He motioned to Fermin. “Bring the girl.”

“No!” Jetta said, struggling with him, as the big man dragged her to the cave entrance. The condor lowered its head, and Jetta felt it was bringing her a message of doom.

“Get inside,” Prospero growled, holding out a flashlight.

“I’ll not go in and be cursed to die.” Jetta swiped at the flashlight and it fell against a rock and broke.

“You bitch.” Fermin raised his hand to hit her, but Prospero stopped him.

“It doesn’t matter. She can go in without a flashlight. That way it’ll be harder to see the snakes.”

“Snakes?” she said, already trembling.

“Poisonous,” added Arlo.

Prospero handed her some empty burlap bags, held together with a long rope.

“Here. Fill up the bags with the treasure and make sure you close them tightly.”

Jetta had no choice but to take them. “Why are they connected by a long rope?”

“I’ll be holding one end,” he told her. “That way, if you die before you come out, I’ll still be able to pull the treasure out of the cave.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” she screamed as Fermin pushed her inside the small opening.

“And who’s going to stop me?” he chuckled. “The man who killed your brother? I hardly think he’ll be coming to your rescue.”

As Jetta lowered herself into the cave, she looked back to see the native man she’d met earlier, standing high and unnoticed by Prospero in a tree. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but in a split second he’d disappeared. The last thing she saw before she entered the frightening darkness, was the condor taking off into the sky.

* * *

Conrado stormed from the dark hut, out into the bright sunlight. Fury welled inside him as he thought of what his tribal brother had done to him. His eyes took a moment to adapt to the bright light, and when they did, Hoatzin was standing there.

“You son of a bitch!” screamed Conrado, throwing his tribal brother to the ground. The blowgun on his shoulder fell in the process, as well as Conrado’s blowgun which he carried in his hand.

Conrado punched him furiously, Hoatzin fighting expertly with just his hands. They’d been trained the same by their father, but Hoatzin had polished his fighting skills, while Conrado hadn’t used them at all in the last five years.

Conrado managed to flip Hoatzin, landing the man on his back. He outweighed his brother by a good fifty pounds, and had no trouble holding him on the ground by straddling him and pinning him at his pressure points. But Hoatzin was always more agile than Conrado. When Conrado went for his throat, Hoatzin managed to slip out of his grip, bringing Conrado to his back, pointing his knife at his throat instead.

“Go ahead you bastard,” snarled Conrado. “Kill me the way you killed my best friend.”

The warriors ran to join them, and the women and children rushed over to see what all the commotion was about. Hoatzin gripped the knife tighter, but then pulled away.

Conrado jumped to his feet, and when he lunged for him, by the command of Toco, Motmot and two others came between them, holding them apart.

“Why did you do it?” asked Conrado. The veins in his neck bulged.

“I did it for you, brother,” came Hoatzin’s reply.

“For me?” Conrado screamed. “How the hell do you get away thinking you’re doing me a favor by not only killing my best friend, but blaming me for the murder?”

When Hoatzin didn’t answer, Toco intervened.

“Release them,” he told Motmot and the others. “And the first of you to try to attack again will be killed by my own hand.”

His words reminded Conrado the Jivaro thought nothing of killing. It was a way of life for them. And though Conrado had convinced them to stop head hunting, they still killed their enemies, or those who did them wrong.

“You were my favorite brother, Hoatzin,” said Conrado. “I can’t believe you betrayed me.”

“I didn’t betray you,
El Condor
,” Hoatzin said meekly. “I only wanted you to become a true Jivaro. I did for you what you needed to do to become a Jivaro warrior.”

Suddenly, it was all too clear. Conrado had told only Hoatzin why he’d left. He wouldn’t kill to gain his right of passage into manhood and become a Jivaro warrior. Hoatzin had begged him not to go, but he’d left to save Toco from the shame he’d bring him by his decision.

This was Hoatzin’s way of telling him he wanted him back. To him, this had solved all Conrado’s problems. If only he’d understand that he cared nothing about being a Jivaro warrior. Instead of solving his problems, he’d only created more.

“You killed a man because of that?” he asked, not believing what he was hearing.

“He killed not only for you,” Motmot grumbled. “It is his duty. We are Jivaro and must protect the secret of the cave. You showed this man the cave. Hoatzin couldn’t let him live.”

“Yes,” said Hoatzin. “I guarded the cave the night you brought Ryder to it. I couldn’t let him leave with the secret knowledge of where it was.”

Conrado felt a stab to his heart. He knew the Jivaro guarded the cave ever since the day his own family had stumbled upon it. But what he didn’t know was that they would kill a friend of his to keep the cave’s location a secret. In reality, it truly was Conrado’s fault Ryder died after all.

“I can’t forgive you for what you’ve done, Hoatzin. Even if you did it with your own good intentions.”

“Then I will prove myself to you,
El Cond
or. I will save the woman you love from the Curse of the Condor.”

“What?” he asked, suddenly realizing he had no idea if Hoatzin brought Jetta to the Yagua as instructed. “Hoatzin, what do you mean? Where is Jetta?”

“I tried to do as you instructed,
El Condor
, but the men with guns chased me off.”

“Men with guns?” He’d almost forgotten about the men he’d seen earlier. Why hadn’t he seen to them as he’d meant to before this happened?

“Damn.” Conrado released Hoatzin’s neck and walked over and picked up his blowgun. He saw the crystal condor necklace sticking out of Jetta’s purse. He put it around his neck. “I’m going to find her.”

“Then I’ll come too,” said Hoatzin, following him.

“No!” shouted Conrado. “I don’t want anything from you. Ever again. Now get away from me. Forever.”

As Conrado headed out to look for Jetta, he whispered, "Please let her be alive."

Chapter 24

Jetta stood frozen in the darkness, fear ripping through her body at what she was about to do. She looked back toward the opening and could see Fermin aiming his gun at her, hurrying her along. He’d been told not to shoot her, but she could see he was a man of little brains, and wouldn’t put it past him to do just that.

“Hurry it up,” shouted Arlo, kicking a rock at her. She sidestepped the rock and decided it was best to get out of sight. Curse or no curse, she didn’t want to be anywhere near these men.

She clutched the burlap bags in her hands, holding them to her chest. Why had she ever come to the jungle? Why couldn’t she have just stayed at home?

Because of Ryder, she told herself, crawling over the rocky floor, her knees already scratched and bleeding. She’d come to save him, but it was too late. She longed for the comforting arms of Conrado, then cursed him silently, and moved ahead. She bumped her head on a rock and stopped. This was going to be virtually impossible without a light.

She heard some commotion from the entrance of the cave, and then the men shouting at something. Their voices echoed off the stone walls, and to her surprise she heard a familiar chatter.

Scurrying noises over the rocks and a chattering little voice had her heart jumping for joy.

“Chatter?” she asked, trying desperately to see something. Anything. Then she jerked backward as fur brushed her hand and scurried up her shoulder.

“You scared the daylights out of me again,” she said, reaching up blindly to touch him. That’s when she felt something cold and hard in his hands. She fingered it, realizing the darling little monkey had brought her Conrado’s lighter.

With a soft flick she lit it, feeling better already. Chatter played with her hair, and she pushed his hand away.

“Not now,” she said. “I’m supposed to be gathering treasure.”

The monkey squealed and hopped off her shoulder, scurrying across the ground, picking up things and clanging objects together. She brought the lighter closer and gasped in surprise. Chatter held two golden plates, etched with ancient symbols.

“There really is treasure,” she said.

“Hurry up!” shouted Prospero from the entrance, and a slight tug on the rope told her of their anxiousness. She grabbed the plates from the monkey and shoved them into one of the bags with a trembling hand.

“They’re going to kill me,” she told the monkey. “No matter what I do, they’re going to kill me before this is through.”

She grabbed for some jewelry, covered with ash, noticing the slight burned smell inside the cave. Conrado had told her there’d been a fire. She shoved jewelry into the bag without taking the time to look at it. All she wanted was to be out of this creepy old cave.

Chatter scurried across the ground, and she followed. Picking up several more pieces, she reached out for what she thought was a bowl, but when her fingers slipped inside two holes, she’d suddenly remembered the rest of Conrado’s story. Slowly, silently, she moved the lighter closer. She brushed away the ash with her free hand and the bowl rolled over. The empty eye sockets of a skull stared up at her, and she pulled her hand away and screamed louder than she’d ever screamed in her entire life.

* * *

Conrado knew exactly where they’d taken Jetta. He heard her scream, and ran faster to the Cave of the Condor. He could only hope she wasn’t being tortured. He prayed she’d still be alive when he got there. He reached the top of the hill, and looked down to see two men kneeling, looking into the cave, holding the end of a rope.

“God be merciful,” he whispered, realizing they’d sent Jetta inside. He reached up, grabbed onto a vine and swung down, dropping to the ground just behind them. The men jumped to their feet, but Conrado knocked the guns from their hands. They swung at him, but Conrado ducked. Then he landed blows that put them both on their back ends.

“What did you do with her?” he growled, but the men only moaned and rubbed their jaws.

“Why don’t you ask me, Conrado?”

Conrado turned to see a man with a withered arm standing atop the cave. He held a gun in his good hand, pointed right for Conrado’s heart.

“Prospero?” Conrado surveyed the man’s features, so unlike the missionary he once knew. His face was cracked and wrinkled. Burn marks covered one side of his face, and his arm hung limp at his side.

“Didn’t expect to see me again, did you Conrado?”

“Prospero. You were a missionary with my father. A good man. What are you doing?”

“I’m a treasure hunter now,” he chuckled. He held up a ruby shard and the sun reflected off it. “Ever since the day we found this cave, I have been able to do nothing but think about the riches inside.”

“This cave is cursed,” he told him. “No one who enters lives to tell about it.”

“No one but you. That’s why I’ve been looking for you for the last fifteen years. When Ryder Fitzgerald died it was my ticket to glory.”

“What are you talking about?” Conrado kept his eyes on the other two men, but they were barely moving. Plus, he’d kicked their guns in the opposite direction.

“You slipped up when you showed him this cave. He was unable to stop himself from wanting treasure, just like me. He stole a crystal condor necklace. He’d meant to send it to his sister. He even wrote her a letter. But as you know, he never mailed that letter. He died before he could, thanks to you.”

“I didn’t kill my friend,” he said, but Prospero just ignored him.

“His missionary friends brought back his belongings. They brought them to me. That’s when I knew I no longer wanted to do mission work. I had another calling, much stronger. I mailed that letter to your precious Jetta. I had my men follow her, as I knew she’d come looking for her dear brother. I did my homework, you see. Jetta would do anything for the brother she loved. That’s why she came looking for him. And thanks to his letter raving about his friendship with you, she led me straight to you.”

“What do you want with me, Prospero?”

“I knew you’d bring that piece back to the cave as soon as you saw it. And when you did, I’d find the cave once again. Only I didn’t count on you taking so long to remove the bitch’s clothing.”

“You bastard!” Conrado pulled his blowgun from his back, but Prospero shot it from his hand. Conrado dove to the ground, but not before Prospero hit him in the shoulder with a bullet.

Conrado bit back the pain, his hand going to his wound, his fingers wiping the blood from the condor tattoo. He closed his eyes briefly, remembering what it felt like to join with his spirit guide, the condor. He reached out with his thoughts and became one with the bird. He felt the spirit of the condor flowing through him.

“I don’t need you anymore,” snarled Prospero. “I’ve got your girlfriend to do my dirty work instead.

Conrado saw Prospero raising his gun, and knew he had to move fast or this would be the shot that took his life. He rolled for his blowgun, grabbing it, but the darts he so desperately needed were gone.

“Looking for these?” asked Fermin, pulling one from the cloth, one that was laden with poison.

“Don’t!” warned Conrado, but it was too late. He’d carelessly pricked his finger on the dart, the poison already making its way through his system. The large man grasped his stiff arm, looked at Conrado with wide eyes, and dropped to the ground.

“You’ve poisoned me!” he shouted.

“No,” said Conrado. “You’ve poisoned yourself.”

Fermin fell back against a rock, already dead.

“Get the treasure,” Prospero told Arlo, still holding his gun aimed at Conrado.

Arlo rushed over and yanked on the rope. The bags clanked over the ground, but they heard nothing from Jetta. Two bags filled, Arlo ran his hands through the contents.

“I don’t see the prime piece,” he said. “The large crystal condor isn’t in here.”

“Then go in and get it,” snapped Prospero.

Arlo’s eyes opened wide. “This is my treasure,” he said, hoisting the bags to his shoulder. “If you want the crystal condor, get it yourself.” He started to move, but didn’t get two steps before Prospero shot him in the hand. The bags hit the ground and Arlo fell, blood gushing out of the wound.

“You shot me,” he said in disbelief.

“Yes, I did.” Prospero moved down the hill toward him. Conrado’s eyes scanned the surroundings, but the only cover was that of the cave.

“And if you’re not going to help me either,” he told Conrado. “I may as just kill you.”

This time when he raised the gun, Conrado dove for the cave. He rolled inside the small opening, climbing back into the dark.

“Jetta,” he called. “Jetta, are you all right?”

He heard a slight weeping from up ahead, and a little chatter which he was sure was his monkey. He crawled toward her, the weeping getting louder. His hand hit something hard, which he realized was his lighter. He flicked it on, almost jumping when he saw Chatter’s black ringed eyes inches from his face.

“This is one time I’m glad you’re a little thief,” he told him, and used the light to look for Jetta. She lay curled in a fetal position on the floor, whimpering softly.

“Jetta, it’s Conrado.”

She curled into a tighter ball at the sound of his voice.

Sweetheart,” he said, moving closer. “Are you hurt?”

“Get away from me,” she said, her head still hidden in her hands. “I never want to see you again, you murderer.”

He felt a pang in his heart at her rejection. He had to tell her the truth about her brother.

“Jetta, I didn’t kill your brother. I was drunk the night Ryder died, and when I woke my blowgun was in my hand and my dart in his neck.”

She cried harder.

“I was framed,” he told her. “My Jivaro brother Hoatzin killed him. Jetta, don’t you see? I didn’t kill him. Ryder was my best friend.”

She looked up with teary eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to gather her up in his arms, but was afraid to do it. Would she accept him now? Did he deserve her love?

“You mean . . . you really didn’t kill him?”

“Honest, Jetta. I told you at the gravesite I didn’t remember doing it, and now I know why. Hoatzin confessed. I’m in the clear.”

“Oh, Conrado!” She reached out for him, and he dropped the lighter in the process. He pulled her into his arms, and in the dark he smattered her with kisses.

“I love you, Jetta. I love you so much. How can you ever forgive me for putting you through all this?”

“I love you too, Conrado. I love you, and I am so scared.”

“I’m getting you out of here.” He reached for the lighter, but when he did, his hand brushed across something round and smooth. His heart stilled as taunting memories ripped through him of that day when he was ten years old.

His father, eyes opened wide with the look of death upon his face. His mother, frozen in cursed terror, and their bodies going up in flame. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, and he picked up the lighter.

“Don’t,” came Jetta’s voice, then the feel of her soft hand upon his. “Let’s leave in the dark, Conrado.”

He pushed her hand aside gently, and flicked open the lighter. “I have to do this, Jetta. I have to see.”

With another flick, the flame lit up his surroundings, and he gasped in terror at the skeletons that lay on the ground before him. Burned and charred, the bones of his parents lay exactly where he last remembered seeing them. Fifteen years of pent up emotions came pouring out of Conrado in a flood of tears. Jetta took the lighter from him, clicking it off, and pulled him into her arms in a comforting embrace.

Chatter chattered from inside the darkness, and clunked around pieces of the treasure.

“What a precious sight,” said Prospero. A lit flashlight was tucked under his arm, a gun in his hand.

Jetta cried out, and Conrado held her closer. God, but he wanted to protect her. His eyes swept over the bodies of his parents, and a shudder wracked his body.

Thunder boomed from overhead, and Conrado could smell the jungle rain on the breeze blowing into the cave. He got to his feet, his head scraping the ceiling of the low cave, and brought Jetta up behind him, shielding her with his body.

“You entered the cave,” Conrado said. “You are cursed now, Prospero.”

“I decided I don’t believe in curses,” he said, gun still pointed at Conrado’s heart. “After all, you’ve entered this cave once before and you’re still alive.” He chuckled. “Or at least for a few more minutes anyway.”

Prospero moved the light a little, and it illuminated the large crystal condor sitting upon the rock altar.

“I’ve found it!” he said. “The crystal condor.”

He took an empty bag from under his other arm and kicked it toward Conrado, since his other hand was disabled.

“Put the crystal condor in the bag,” he growled.

“No!” said Conrado. He lurched forward, but Prospero was too fast. He pulled the trigger and Conrado felt the burning pain in his leg. He fell to the ground, and Jetta ran over to him crying. She reached out to touch him, her hand grasping his bloody shoulder. He groaned and flinched.