"They're stickin' him in with his daughter. Look at the poor wee thing. D' yer reckon we should speed all this through lad so we can find out what 'appens?"
"What if we miss something important Uncle Paddy?"
"You just come right back 'ere again and foller it through."
Davey moved closer to the mirror, nothing seemed to alter.
" No. It's still dark in there."
"Yeah but two weeks could 'ave passed an' in the dark we wouldn't know it. Eh up lad the chief's waking up."
Within moments of regaining consciousness Lord Axa was fully aware of his situation, his heart soared when he heard a child's voice.
"Father, father, is it you?"
"I am here my child," he replied, "do not fear all will be well."
Chacuti moved across the floor and lay against him, he put his great arms around her. "How long have you been here child?" he asked.
"I am not sure, it is a long time," she replied, "they have said I am to be sacrificed father, I am to walk the walk of death," she cried, "Now the Shaman will kill you also."
"Calm yourself daughter, take control, no child of mine can be beaten by these scum. We shall survive this place, we shall live!"
He sat with her, cuddling her, letting her feel the strength in his arms and the reassurance that his strength gave her. His anger was immense. He would kill the Shaman and all these dogs, they would suffer for what they had done to his child.
"'ave another go lad, these poor sods ain't goin' anywhere."
Again Davey moved closer to the mirror.
When a guard pushed a watery mixture of vegetables through a gap beneath the door, Axa's spirit was beginning to bend, he could feel it giving way but knew deep within him that it would never break.
"What is going to happen to us?" he asked the guard.
"Oh so the noble lord begins to feel afraid," laughed the guard, he closed the door.
Axa decided he would never show any weakness again. They would suffer in silence and if needs be go to their deaths in silence. He knew that he would never allow Chacuti to feel the terror of the sacrifice - he would end her life swiftly when the time came. She was such a beautiful child, her long hair was in his face as she remained on his lap for hours on end. They talked of things they had done together as a family, how Panqui had jumped when he had caught a fish and thrown it to her, how beautiful her mother was. He told her tales of warriors of old and of the legend of the gods.
"Did they really live and work with our ancestors father?" asked the child.
"Many of the things you see in this city could not have been built by men, many of the things we know could not otherwise be known to us."
"The people said they saw a light in the sky, was it the gods returning?" she asked.
"A long time ago our ancestors travelled with the gods through the skies, they visited the stars, it is said that their ships were as bright as the stars they travelled to."
"The Shaman," she shuddered when she said his name, "says the gods are returned. Are they father?"
"Strange men have come to the land of the Inca but they are not gods," he stated, angered by the memories of murder and destruction. His voice betrayed his thoughts, Chacuti became agitated and fearful, "Hush now, it must be night-time, sleep, sleep," he soothed her and stroked her hair then felt her slight body go limp against his own. He sat still and silent staring into the darkness.
"Leave them here lad, they're not goin' anywhere. Get us back to the Shyman, he's the reason everything 'appens around 'ere."
"Uncle Paddy, if he manages to... you know, get hold of me or something, will you pull the helmet off for me."
"Go on with yer, yer daft. 'e's not getting out of that mirror."
Within the chamber of the snake stood the Shaman and the old man. The Shaman knelt before the polished stone, gazing into its depths, seeking the future. The old man was astonished as the mists cleared and a landscape of stunted, blasted trees was revealed. The trees were smashed and splintered, no leaves remained on their broken branches.
"What is this?" inquired the old man. The Shaman was silent. This was new to him.
"That's Hill 17 over there lad! That's where me an' yer old feller were carted off!"
The picture grew clearer, deep cuts, holes and trenches scarred the landscape. A massive explosion which blew the already deformed ground high into the air burst through the mist. Men were running wildly over the battered ground, above their heads bursts of smoke and flame splattered the sky. They saw the men drop like wheat mown with a scythe.
"I ask you, what is this!" shouted the old man.
The Shaman could not answer. He did not know.
An image of a man's face crept into the stone, his head was shaven but it was his eyes which shocked the old man. The eyes were furious, they looked round, frantically searching. The man was screaming, he was trapped in stone. The Shaman hurriedly put down the mirror and crawled along the body of the snake away from the chamber.
The old man continued to stare at the stone but the image was fading, he witnessed carvings of strange animals upon the man's body and glimpsed the symbols upon the man's palms as he disappeared. As the old man turned to follow the Shaman the mirror was filled with the face of a boy, the eyes of the boy were clearly upon him. The old man and boy studied each other, staring into each other's eyes.
"Who are you?" asked the old man.
"I'm Davey," answered the boy.
"Come!" shouted the Shaman.
The old man moved away still staring into the depths of the mirror, he heard Paddy's voice, "There's a young lassie trapped in that hell-hole, help..."
"He heard us!"
"'e' heard us!"
"He knows we're here!"
"Foller 'im lad!"