Dark Peril (4 page)

He moved the vegetation on the ground to cover all signs of the grave. The jaguar-men would come back to remove all traces of their species, but they wouldn’t find her. She would rest far from their reach. It was all he could give her. With a small sigh, Dominic checked one last time, making certain his chosen spot looked pristine, and then he shifted once more, taking the shape of the eagle. He needed to find where the victorious jaguar had gone.

It didn’t take long for the sharp eyes of the eagle to spot his quarry several miles from the site of the battle. He simply followed the sounds of the forest, the creatures warning one another of a predator close by. The eagle slid noiselessly through the tree branches and settled on a broad limb high above the forest floor. The monkeys howled and shrieked warnings, calling to one another, occasionally throwing twigs down at the large spotted cat weaving its way through the brush toward some unknown destination.

The jaguar was female, her thick fur spotted with dark rosettes and, in spite of the rain, blood. She limped, slightly dragging her back leg where the worst of the lacerations seemed to be. Her head was down, but she looked lethal, a flow of spots sliding in and out of the foliage so stealthily that at times, even with the eagle’s extraordinary eyesight, it was difficult to spot her against the vegetation of the forest floor.

She moved in complete silence, ignoring the monkeys and birds, padding along at a steady pace, her muscles flowing beneath the thick fur. So intrigued was Dominic by her dogged persistence in traveling in spite of her severe injuries, it took several minutes before he realized the hideous whispers in his mind had eased significantly. All the times he had drained off the parasites to give himself some relief, he had never had them cease their continual assault on his brain; yet now, they were nearly silent.

Curious, he took to the skies, circling overhead, staying within the canopy to keep out the last rays of the sun. He noted that the farther he was from the jaguar, the louder the whispers became. The parasites ceased activity the closer he got to her, so that the stabbing shards of glass cutting his insides remained still, and for a short time he had a respite from the brutal pain.

The jaguar continued to move steadily into deeper forest, away from the river and into the interior. Night fell and still she traveled. He found that he couldn’t leave her, that he had no wish to leave her. He began to equate the strange calming of the parasites with her, as well as the even stranger emotions. The rage had subsided into an unrelenting sorrow and anguish. His heart was so heavy of a burden he could barely function as he moved overhead.

Below, large limestone blocks appeared, half buried in the soil. The remnants of a great Mayan temple lay cracked and broken, trees and vines nearly obliterating what was left of the once-impressive structure. Scattered over the next few miles were the remains of an ancient civilization. The Mayans had been farmers, growing their golden corn in the middle of the rain forest, whispering with reverence of the jaguar and building temples to bring sky, earth and the underworld together.

He spotted the sinkhole, and beneath it the cool waters of the underground river he’d noted earlier in the evening. The jaguar continued without pause until she came to another Mayan site, although this one had been used more recently. The thick growth of tangled vines and trees put the date nearly twenty years earlier, but clearly there had been more modern houses here. A generator, long since rusted and wrapped with thick lianas and shoots of green, lay on its side. The ground wept with the memories of battle and the slaughters that had taken place here. The sorrow was so heavy now, Dominic needed to ease the burden. The harpy eagle flew through the canopy a distance away from the jaguar and remained motionless, just watching, as the jaguar made her way through the long-ago battlefield, as if she were connected to the dead who wailed there.

2

My life was an anguish, my family ripped from me.
My rage had sustained me. I’d given up hope.
Tears fell in rain forest, heart bled in the blood-ground.
My father betrayed me. I barely could cope.

SOLANGE TO DOMINIC

T
he rain fell steadily, making the miserable heat worse, a relentless downpour, no light drizzle, but sheets of blinding, endless rain. Birds hid among the thick, twisted branches, high up in the canopy in hopes of relief. Tree frogs dotted the trunks and branches while lizards used leaves for umbrellas. The air remained still and stifling on the forest floor but up above in the canopy, the rain seemed bent on drenching the many creatures living there.

Through the gray rain and the humid heat, the jaguar padded silently over the rotting vegetation and the fallen trees and through the varieties of lacy giant ferns sprouting from every conceivable crack or crevice. The small stream she followed led from the wide, fast-moving river on the outer edges of the rain forest into the deep interior. She had trod this path twice a year for the last twenty years, making her way back to where it had all begun, a pilgrimage when she was weary and needed to remember why she did what she did. No matter how the forest changed, no matter how much new growth had emerged, she knew the way unerringly.

Flowers burst into bright color, winding up the great trunks, curling around limbs, petals drenched and dripping, alive with vivid beauty through the various shades of green that made up the rain forest. Buttress roots of the emergents—giant trees that pierced the canopy—dominated the forest floor. The twisted, elaborate shapes provided sustenance as well as support to the largest trees in the rain forest. The root systems were massive and came in all shapes, fins and cages and dark, twisted labyrinths providing shelter for creatures desperate enough to brave the insects carpeting the layers of leaves and decay, sharing the space with the small dawn bats that made homes in the huge network of roots of the impressive Kapok tree.

High above the jaguar, following her progress, flew a great harpy eagle, much larger than normal, the dark wings spread wide, a good seven feet. He moved in silence, keeping pace in the sky, winding through the labyrinth of branches with ease. With two predators on the prowl, the animals hunkered down, shivering miserably. The eagle peered down, ignoring the tempting sight of a sloth and band of monkeys to examine the jaguar’s progress through the tangle of vegetation on the forest floor far below.

Roots snaked across the floor, seeking nutrients and causing the ground to be a mass of sometimes impenetrable obstacles. Coiled around the massive trunks were thousands of climbing plants of various nature, using the trees as ladders to the sun. Woody lianas, stems and even roots of climbing plants hung like massive ropes or twisted together, tree to tree, providing an aerial highway for animals. Lianas, looped and twisted into tangles, were full of crevices and grooves, ideal hiding places for the animals taking shelter up and down the trunks and in the branches.

The jaguar hesitated, aware of the large raptor traveling with her. Night was falling fast and yet the great bird continued to trail her progress, sometimes gliding in lazy circles overhead and other times diving through the trees, stirring up the wildlife until the din was frenzied and so loud the jaguar considered roaring a warning. She decided to ignore the bird and follow her instincts, moving on toward her goal.

Hills and slopes were riddled with freshwater streams and creeks flowing over rocks and vegetation as they rushed toward the larger rivers. White-water rivers, heavy with sediment, appeared the color of creamy coffee. Rich with life, the waters were home to the rare river dolphins. The black-water rivers looked clear and perhaps more inviting, as they were sediment free, but were almost lifeless, unnaturally clear, tinted reddish-brown and poisoned by the tannins seeping into the ground from the rotting vegetation. The jaguar knew to hunt in the rich waters of the white-water rivers, easily flipping the fish onto the banks when she was hungry.

Ticks and leeches swarmed up, meeting the heat and rain with a frenzy and in need of blood, searching for any warm-blooded prey. The jaguar ignored the tiresome bloodsuckers, which were attracted by her warmth and the open wound on her left flank. Thunder boomed, shaking the trees, an ominous portent of trouble. A sloth moved with infinite slowness, its algae-covered fur green, helping it to blend into the leaves of the tree it was currently dining in. But the jaguar was very aware of it above her head, as she was aware of all things in the forest—aware the harpy eagle continued to dog her every move, high in the sky, in spite of night stirring. Instead of bothering her, the unusual presence soothed her, quieted the growing dread and the utter weariness as the jaguar plodded steadily through the maze of vegetation.

The tangle of lianas grew thicker as the jaguar padded silently through the growth, over fallen logs and through umbrella-like leaves dripping with water. She moved with complete assurance, a sea of spots flowing through heavy brush in spite of her obvious limp. The sound of water was deafening as she approached the slopes where water burst through the bank and tumbled to the river below.

As the great cat moved through the forest and the raptor floated in the sky, monkeys and birds called a warning to the peccaries, deer, tapir and paca that either predator might consider a meal. The howlers shrieked fearfully, calling to one another. A jaguar’s bite could crack their skulls like a nut. Able to climb trees or swim with equal ability, she could hunt on land, in trees or in the water. The harpy eagle could easily rip prey from a branch, dropping silently from a lookout perch to snatch an unwary victim.

Ropes of muscle rippled beneath the jaguar’s sleek, spotted fur. Her rosettes held more spots than those of a leopard, and her pelt was the color of both night and day shadows, allowing her to move like a silent phantom through the forest. Golden sable marked with rosettes, some considered her fur a map of the night sky and hunted her for the treasure.

She moved with nobility in spite of her obvious injury, prowling her domain, commanding respect from all the other occupants of the forest. Built for stealth and ambush, she had retractable claws and vision six times better than a human’s. The animals shivered as she passed, called warnings and watched with wary eyes, but she kept climbing, skirting the thin strip of land that barely covered the top of the waterfall, knowing from past trips that the plant-covered slim bridge was a treacherous hazard waiting for the unwary to place a wrong step. She went the more circuitous route, pushing her way through the dark ropy tangle of vines and roots, into the darker interior.

Slate black feathers covered the wings and back of the harpy eagle. The white mantle was striped with the same black, and a black band collared the powerful raptor so that the gray head stood out with the double plume cresting it. The black and white striped leggings led to enormous talons nearly the size of a grizzly bear’s claws. With his wings spread wide, it seemed impossible for the powerful predator to maneuver the tight passageways of the canopy, with the knotted and twisted branches and the hanging lianas, but the eagle did so with majestic ease, keeping pace with the predator on the ground.

The jaguar continued through the forest, and her limp became more pronounced as she tried easing the weight from the wounds on her left flank. Caked blood began to run with the infusion of water on her pelt, down her leg, to drip onto the forest floor. The jaguar kept the same steady pace, head down, her sides heaving as she moved with growing pain through the twisted web of roots and vines, determined to reach her goal. The sky above the canopy turned dark and the rain eventually lessened.

Bats took to the air and the forest floor came alive with millions of insects. She kept moving, weaving her way through the trees. Twice she had to take to the aerial highway, using the branches to pass over fast-moving water. She could swim, but she was exhausted and the rain had swollen the banks of even the smallest streams, so the entire forest floor seemed bursting with water. All the while, the eagle kept her company, giving her the strength to continue her journey.

She walked most of the night until she came to the first marker she recognized, a broken remnant of an ancient temple, an impressive structure in spite of the ruins joining sky, earth and the underworld together. The jaguar statue guarding the remains, made of limestone, snarled at her, eyes wide open and staring, judging her worth. Right now, exhausted and far too weary, she didn’t feel very worthy.

She put her head down and slunk past the statue, for the first time dropping her chin, avoiding the staring eyes as she padded silently over the ancient stones and pushed deeper into the overgrown brush. A few more miles and the night seemed darker, the trees closer together. Vegetation coiled along every trunk and took up every available space, crowding so close it took effort to push through to the broken limestone blocks that were strewn about and half buried in the thick vegetation covering what once had been a clearing.

Trees had long since overtaken the spot where the land had been cleared to make way for a small village and farm. The corn was long gone, but the jaguar remembered it, the rows of bright green stalks lifting their heads to the sun and the rain in the midst of the surrounding forest. Squash and beans lined the rows, as her people had returned to the old ways, using the same mixture of maize, limestone powder and water for their flour as their ancestors once had done here, in this very same place.

She could feel the blood, running like the great underwater river beneath her feet, flowing, soaked permanently into the ground. Her ancestors had died here—and then, twenty years ago, her family and friends. She would forever hear the sounds of their screams, would know the terror and fear of true evil.

Overhead, the cry of the harpy eagle sent the sleeping monkeys into a wave of howling, the sound swelling through the forest, yet the noise reassured her. The eagle, lord of the sky, landed in the canopy, folded its wings and peered down at the jaguar. She acknowledged its presence with a lift of her head, peering upward into the thick canopy. It was unusual for the great predator to hunt at night, and should have been unsettling. Anything out of the ordinary in this forest where legends and nightmares came to life and walked the night made her uneasy, yet she felt a strange companionship with the bird.