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Prologue

Sunrise

Andean Mountains

Peru, 1538

There was no escape

Crashing through the iven up all prayer of ever outrunning the hunters who dogged his trail Panting, he crouched along the thin path and caught his breath He wiped the sweat from his broith his sleeve He still wore his Dominican robe, black wool and silk, but it was stained and torn His Incan captors had stripped him of all possessions, except for his robe and cross The tribal shaman had warned the others not to touch these taliser’s deity

Though the heavy robes ill suited his flight through the dense, cloud-draped jungle of the upper Andes, the young friar still refused to shed his raiment They had been blessed by Pope Clement when Francisco had first been ordained, and he would not part with them But that did not mean he couldn’t alter them to suit his situation better

He grabbed the hehs

Once his legs were free, Francisco listened to the sounds of pursuit Already the call of the Incan hunters grew louder, echoing along thecries of the disturbed le canopy overhead could notclamor of his captors They would be upon him soon

The young friar had only one hope left—a chance at salvation—not for himself, but for the world

He kissed the torn edge of his robe and let it drop froers He must hurry

When he straightened too quickly, his vision darkened for a heartbeat Francisco grabbed the bole of a jungle sapling, struggling not to fall He gasped in the thin air Sh up in the s adequately, forcing him to rest frequently, but he could not let shortness of breath stop him

Shoving off the tree, Francisco set off once again down the trail, stuait was not all due to the altitude Before his scheduled execution at dawn, he had suffered a ritualistic bloodletting and been forced to consuht of a bitter elixir—chicha, a ferround under his feet wobble The sudden exertion of running fro’s effect

As he ran, the li to trap him The path seemed to tilt first one way, then the other His heart ha roar, washing away even the calls of his pursuers Francisco stue Far below, he discovered the source of the thunderous ru over black rocks

A part of his mind knew this hty Urabaraphy Despair filled his chest, squeezing his heart The chas, Francisco leaned his hands on his scraped knees Only then did he notice the thin, woven-grass bridge It spanned the chasht