Elixir of Life

By Trycia Lino

Go on an adventure to Machu Picchu at the center of Incan Civilization in 16th Century Peru... In the distance, two bodies lie on the ground, their hands clasped together in death. Ocideron's body shakes with rage and grief. Never again would he hear his father's voice call his name or see his mother's smile. From the cave's entr

• Language: English
• Publisher: Guardiansofmachupicchu
• Release date: Dec 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9780982799284

Book preview

ELIXIR OF LIFE

Guardians of Machu Picchu Book One

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By Trycia Lino

Forest City Publications

Rockford, IL

Copyright © 2020 Trycia Lino

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2020

ISBN 978-0-9827992-8-4

Forest City Publications

P.O. Box 2127

Loves Park, IL 61111

www.forestcitypublications.com

For Mama Rosa

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I want to first thank my awesome husband, Daniel. You have supported my dream since the beginning. Thank you, my love, for this life and eternity.

Secondly, I’d like to thank my mom, Anna Borup. You are the best mom a daughter could have. And I couldn’t ask for a better writing partner. You’re my hero, and you’re my friend.

Third, Dad. You have been my rock throughout my life. I’m so grateful for your wisdom, your candor, and your willingness to support Mom’s and my dreams.

Fourth, my boys, Levi and Alex. Someday you will read this, and you’ll realize that while Mom was listening to you tell your stories and play with your cars and action figures, she was also writing stories for you and for the whole world, to honor our Peruvian heritage and inspire other children like you to love reading and exploring their imaginations.

Fifth, my writing mentor Angie Fenimore. Thank you for always believing in me, and for pushing me to be my best.

Finally, Lara Helmling, my editor and my publisher. I am so grateful to have found you. You took a good manuscript and made it an extraordinary book. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.

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PROLOGUE

Inca Territory

I can feel the pounding of my heart as the adrenaline pushes my body faster. There is an explosion of pain in my calves that almost makes me tumble to the earth, but I catch myself. I stop for a moment to take a sip of air, but it burns my lungs. I want to give up, but must go on. I surrender to the pain and focus on my goal. I must get far away.

The thick dark vegetation around the river’s edge will hide me well so I dive into the depth of it. I put my head to the ground to listen, seeking any sign of my pursuers, but the roar of the river and my pulse are too loud. I take deep breaths and quiet my body. Still I am not able to hear anything. If I follow the river upstream, I will be blocked in the willows that surround the banks. I hunch down low and scuttle. The damp ground makes my feet slip. I try to stay upright, but the force topples me down. I land face first in the mud. I struggle to rise but sink to the ground, my strength sapped. I begin to wonder if it is all in vain. My position in the mud doesn’t escape me. Well, at least I am the one with the surroundings, I tell myself.

Scenes flash through my mind of the last few weeks. I was lucky to escape; the brutality of the captors was severe. Anger rises at the memories, and it fuels me. I get to my feet just as I hear the thundering of their beasts. The white warriors mount upon them to run faster. A fire stick sounds an alert to the other men that something is happening. I don’t know if they have seen me, but I think they might have because of the trigger. My heart leaps into my throat, but my rage is stronger than my fear. They will not have me. I make it to the place where the earth starts to ascend. Hope rises in my chest as I know the beasts will struggle to keep their balance on the uneven ground and rocks. I finally have the advantage.

I come to a point where I must cross the river. As I step in the cold liquid my feet are swept out from under me by the swift current. I take a breath in; water and air enter. I spew it from my lungs and cough, trying to breath as I soar further down the rapids. I grab hold of a large rock and cling to it, but my arms simply won’t hold. My strength is drained from me. After a moment I let go, drifting, letting the cool waters release the pain from my body. I’m visible to the eyes of the white warriors, but in this moment, I don’t care.

While I drift, memories flood my mind of my brothers and my betrothed. They are marching single file, and their captors are beside them. Those barbarians are whipping them to move faster. The thought makes my anger flow, pumping red energy into my system while liquid from my eyes blends in with the waters around me.

I start to move again. I am their only hope. I must make it. I whisper a prayer to Inti. I must find the army of Gods that can destroy these men, these white warriors who cover their bodies with cloth and speak different words. If they are still searching for me, then I must get out of the river and move.

I crawl from rock to rock towards the shore. The water sloshes around me, pulling me back into the current, but I get to the side and haul myself out. My body shimmers as the sun light reflects off the droplets of water. I gauge the light and know I will dry before the sun falls and the air becomes frigid. I kneel and put my hand to the ground. There is a pulsation. The vibrations tell me the warriors are nearby. I keep progressing through the flora. Moving away from the river towards the higher mountains.

I have achieved a good distance up the mountainside. As I continue to ascend, water drops start to fall from the heavens. As much as I welcome their nourishment, they make the ground slippery. I glance at the steep slope beside my trail. My lack of attention causes me to misstep. I stumble on uneven ground, and I slide downward. My body tumbles over the side of the cliff. Death is certain if I do not find something to break my fall. My arms flail, trying to reach out and grab on to anything that will stop the fall.

I grip the nearby vines with my scraped hands. With a jolt, the vines stop me as I hang off the side of a cliff.

I look around and spot a ledge not far from me. I swing myself toward it, then push off the side of the rock-hard surface. I see that it is the opening of a cave. There is hope. Just a few more feet. I take another swing. I can hear the vine breaking away from the cliff’s side. I take one more leap into the air with the vine as my anchor and slide to the dirt floor of the cave. My lungs are heavy. My body lies limp on the ground as darkness envelops me.

The water drips from a long cylinder that protrudes from the top of the cavern. The splash creates an echo-sound. Droooooop, droooooop droooooop, rippling and bouncing off the stone walls.

The sun’s rays slowly illuminate the walls of the cave as it comes up in the sky. The cave is large and goes deep into the side of the mountain. I decide to explore the cavern and see if there is a connected tunnel. I pick up a stick and put some dried vines around it, then hit two stones together for a fire. I will use this to give me sight in the dark. It will also dry my body and bring warmth.

The City of the Gods is supposed to have many tunnels leading upwards above the clouds. If I can get there through the tunnels this would conceal me from the warriors and keep the king safe. It might also reduce the time it takes to reach the Gods. I follow the tunnel walls only to find it ends at a pool of water. I am disappointed, but the water is fresh and I am thirsty. I fill up my bladder and then drink from the cold waters. It is refreshing. I return to the mouth of the cave and look for something to aid me. I decide to take some vines that are scattered around the cave and make them into a rope. I will use them to climb down from the high cliff.

I will rest for now and build a fire for my sleep. This will keep me safe from the animals. I close my eyes and sleep. Dreams keep my mind active all night. There is a shaman who is putting symbols on my body. I wake again to the brilliance of the sun. Confused by my dream, but grateful for life, I pray to Inti for breath and the chance to save my people.

Now it is time to go. I have already stayed too long in the cave, but at least my strength has returned. I feel full of the sun’s existence. I am ready to continue.

Hand over hand I make my way down. I look up to make sure the vines are holding. I notice some of the vines starting to unravel. I move more quickly before they give way, but I am tired. My hands start to slip just as the last of the vine is released from the weave. I fall landing on my feet, then propel backwards. I hit my head on a rock and black out.

When I wake up, I am not sure how much time has lapsed. The sun is in the sky and I feel the heat on my body. My throat is dry, and I can barely breathe without burning my lungs. I get up from the grounds. My vision is blurred and my world spins. I sit back down and put my head between my legs. Soon the world uprights and I can walk. I start to move again. I must get to the Gods and plead for my people.

I come to a place where there is a stream. I did not take time to survey the area and as I bend down to get water, I am caught off guard as hands grab me. They force my hands behind me and tie them with twine. My eyes are covered with a piece of wool. It happens so fast I could not tell what the men looked like. The men are silent as we walk, and I try to ask questions, but I am pushed forward, and my mouth is then covered with some type of material. I walk holding on to the man next to me, but we move too quickly, and I fall from lack of sight. They pick me up and take me over to a rock. I am pushed down, and the gag is taken off my mouth. They put something to my lips. I smell. It does not have a scent, but I can feel the cool liquid against my chin. I start to gulp the refreshing fluid then choke. I cough then spew up the contents of my stomach. They again lift the water to my mouth.

The refreshing life enters, and I can stand up and move. We walk until the sun is strong. I am pulled to a stop as the men halt. I listen to anything that would give me clues to who these men are. The language is not one I have come across before. The voices ring in a bass tone, and the smell that enters my nose is of musk and green undergrowth. They sit me down and my eyes are uncovered. As my eyes adjust, the leader asks in my tongue, Who are you? What tribe are you from? What are you doing wandering alone?

I am assaulted with questions. I am too weak to answer. They give me substance and I eat. My stomach rumbles as it takes in the nutrients. After I swallow, I start to answer the questions.

The man who speaks with authority smiles. He is different than the other warriors. He comes close to me while the others keep a distance from me except to lead me forward. I look closely at the man. He is large in stature, broad chest, and muscular. He has no scars from war, yet you can tell he is a seasoned warrior by the way he holds himself, and how he commands the respect of the others.

He also can speak the dialect used by my people when the other men just look at him with questions on their faces. I wonder what language is his native tongue. He could be a traveler selling merchandise with a caravan. I think I would have remembered his face if he would have come through my village. My mind hurts as I try to figure out how this man can speak my language. I will simply call him Sargent.

The leader asks me the questions again; who are you? what tribe are you from? what are you doing wandering alone?"

"My name is Ocideron. I am running from the men who have invaded my village and killed my parents and all the Elders of the village. They took us and bound us together, forcing us to march. They did not tell us where they