Chapter 22: Pitahaya Basin

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            Qasikay marched down the cold stone road with some nineteen other Inti warriors. Ten standard soldiers brought up the rear, watching the horizon behind them for any signs that they had been discovered. Ahead of them stepped the five illusionists who had snuck them out of the city. Between them and Qasikay was a trio of skilled Inti trailblazers, one of whom held the map and directed the group. At the front, next to Qasikay, marched a priestess named Pachacutec.

            Unlike Qasikay, Pachacutec seemed to have no training for combat. She was full-figured but not rugged, and she wore a dress even less suited to combat than the traditional one Qasikay wore. Despite this, a constant, ready smile rested on her face, and she carried her head high.

            "You're Qasikay, right?" introduced Pachacutec, in a deep voice. "You're the one who brought all of those mercenaries back here."

            "That I am," Qasikay murmured.

            "Good job."

            "Thanks."

            "Not much of a talker, are you?"

            "I am, usually. But I'm going through some... troubles... I... I just don't know what to do anymore."

            "Anything I can help with?" offered Pachacutec, putting a hand on Qasikay's shoulder.

            Qasikay thought for a moment.

            "Actually... maybe you can. Although I'd like to talk about this where the others can't hear us."

            "Alright. Tonight, then."

            "Thank you."

            Pachacutec did not forget her promise. That night, at an unstaffed safehouse, after the soldiers, rangers and illusionists were all asleep, she sat down opposite Qasikay in the quietest corner of the room.

            "Easy on the chicha," cautioned Pachacutec, with a good-natured chuckle. "You can't save the empire unless you're sober."

            "That's not what I wanted to talk about," Qasikay rerouted, lowering the jar. "This plan... I fear it won't work."

            "I fear that, too, but that's no reason to give up. I have faith that the gods will come through for us."

            "You don't understand. I don't believe in gods anymore."

            Pachacutec stared blankly at her for a moment. Qasikay avoided her gaze with another swig of chicha.

            "Do you think I'm joking?" challenged Qasikay.

            "No, I believe you... okay, what's the story?"

            "I could have been a weaver, or a crafter, or a soldier, or a baker or... or..."

            "A brewer?" added Pachacutec.

            "I could have been anything. That's what the officer said to me while he was visiting my village. And he meant it. I wasn't just choosing between the temple and the field; I had a world full of options, and I chose to spend it in service to the gods. Not just as a priestess- I could have stopped there, but I didn't. I became a Virgin of the Sun. I spent years there, in nothing but worship. Once I thought I had a connection to the gods, I spent even longer training to fight for them. Then, when the invaders came, I snuck across the entire ocean to protect the people of my gods. And how did they repay me? My emperor threatened to kill my family if I failed my mission. I was successful, and they died anyway. The gods didn't lift a finger."

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