The cleric seemed to read his thoughts, for he said, not unkindly, "The glory of a god does not need to be measured by the pile of bodies heaped in his honor. This is the error of the younger gods, and their bloodlust may well cause the disaster that will destroy the True World."

Kachin's tone suddenly grew harsh – "I meant what I told you in Ulatos. If you or that knife-wielding 'priest' has slain the girl, Erixitl, I will exact retribution… in blood."

"Then why do you offer me counsel now?" snarled the knight.

"We face a more urgent challenge than our own quarrel," replied the cleric, and Gultec could sense the deep sincerity in Kachin's voice. "I fear that the future of the world we know is at stake." Kachin's voice hushed slightly, betraying his profound concern.

Gultec growled inaudibly. He did not seek the counsel of clerics, did not like it when it was offered. Yet there was something ultimately believable in this cleric that forced Gultec to respect him. He was clearly very wise, and his bravery could not be questioned either. Never had a cleric dared to speak to Gultec as this one had – and twice in one day! And if this cleric was frightened by the strangers, Gultec thought that they must be very dangerous indeed.

"Do not let her get away!" Mixtal admonished the four apprentices, each of whom held one of Martine's limbs. "She shall not escape us again!" The priest did not see the puzzled looks on the young clerics' faces, and they had given up trying to point out that the captive was other than the girl, Erix.

"Bring the man, too!" Mixtal gestured at Hal, and several warriors prodded the pair up the steep steps to the top of the pyramid. They swayed dangerously on the narrow ledges that served as stairs. Halloran wondered briefly if a fast, fatal fall might be preferable to whatever awaited them above.

Mixtal finally reached the top, where he threw his head back and laughed, delighted at last. He faced the setting sun, letting its rays fall over him as it touched the treetops. She will not escape me now! The Ancient Ones will be pleased!

He looked back at the assemblage, again cursing the haze that seemed to float eternally across his eyes. He looked to the sea. The strange winged objects seemed to be very far away, their shapes becoming shadows in the sunset.

Closer, his apprentices and the warriors gathered around the top of the pyramid. Why are they so somber? Mixtal squinted, but he could not quite see their faces… that accursed haze!

The apprentices pulled the blindfold from the girl's eyes and severed her bonds, jerking her toward the altar. She twitched and kicked, her eyes widening in terror, but the young men easily held her. Mixtal stared at the girl, at her coppery skin, her inky black tresses, all the details he saw and knew.

Everything became perfectly clear. Halloran's blood chilled at the sight of the grisly altar. The stone block was the size of a small table, and the red-black stains smearing its sides clearly indicated its function. The squatting beast statue, with its gaping maw, crouched beside the altar. Martine screamed, the sound barely stifled by the gag, as the priests seized her.

"No!" Hal screamed, twisting desperately in the grip of the two warriors. "By Helm, no!"

The high priest, his face distorted madly, turned toward the legionnaire. The man's matted hair hung in a ragged mane around his head as he held his right hand forward and slowly clenched it into a fist.

Halloran gasped as he felt the magical thong around him tighten, threatening to crush his ribs with the pressing force of his breastplate. His head throbbed and his vision grew red. His mouth worked reflexively, gasping for air that could find no space in his lungs.

The last of his breath emerged in a ragged groan as Hal slumped to his knees, struggling to remain conscious. The pressure on his body was about to crush him, and then suddenly it eased.

Halloran collapsed facefirst, paralyzed as his lungs sucked desperately needed air. Slowly he lifted himself to his hands and knees, and then the two warriors lifted him to his feet. They easily held him as he tried to lunge toward the altar.

He could not prevent the priests from stretching Martine backward across the altar. Her eyes turned toward him, widely staring, shocked.

"No!" He roared his rage again as two more warriors restrained him. Martine lay absolutely helpless. Halloran twisted, but he was powerless to intervene, powerless to do anything.

The high priest raised his hand, raised the stone dagger. For a moment, the dark gloss of obsidian caught the last rays of the sun, a glowing reflection of the rage and murderous hate burning in Halloran's eyes.

Then the blade dropped as the priest performed the act he had performed so many times before. Martine released one shocked, final gasp, while the apprentices held her firmly, allowing no twitch of movement. Mixtal's hand moved quickly and steadily, his cut swift and deep and sure.

And then the high priest held her heart in the air. It seemed to pulse in dying cadence to the fading light of the sun.

Erixitl gasped in sympathetic pain. She watched the strange girl die, slain in her own place on the altar of Zaltec. Suppressing a moan, she rolled back into the concealment of her leafy shelter.

She had followed Mixtal and his prisoners toward the pyramid, to the very scene of her escape. Now sunset found her at the edge of the clearing surrounding the pyramid, with a clear view of the priests and the altar at the edge of the structure's upper platform.

She sneaked another look and saw the girl's body removed from the altar, thrown unceremoniously beside it. Mixtal placed the heart, now still and lifeless, into the mouth of Zaltec on the statue beside the altar.

Erix heard a rustle beside her and was not surprised when Chitikas slithered around the trunk of a low bush. The serpent glided to her side, remaining concealed from the pyramid.

"You caused her to die!" she accused. The downy snake gazed at her, his yellow eyes unblinking. "Why did you do that?"

"The man," whispered Chitikas in his soft voice. "You must go to him, save him."

"I told you, no!" Erix shook her head angrily, wondering again why she had followed the priests and prisoners to the pyramid when all she wanted was escape. "How could I help him, when he is in the hands of the Bloody One?"

"Pluma – feathermagic," suggested Chitikas, with the barest flicker of his tongue. "He is held by the priest. You can break the spell."

"No!" She turned away from the snake, and her eye involuntarily sought the spotted snakeskin thong that restrained Halloran's arms. She touched the feathered ring at her neck, remembering, when Mixtal tried to capture her in the temple courtyard, how its burst of magic had sent that same snakeskin bond tumbling to her feet.

Twilight began to settle in the clearing. Erix saw Mixtal regarding the silver-chested man. The priest started toward the stranger and then stopped, indecisive. A Jaguar Knight stepped in before the priest, and she saw the pair gesture angrily at each other.

"Why are you doing this?" Erix turned toward Chitikas again, accusing him with her voice. "Why did you save me? Why did you cost that girl her life?"

"You should understand," replied the serpent, his own tone vaguely accusing. "You have been sheltered and protected by the benign power of the Plumed One for all of your life. It is time you began repaying the debt!"

"Sheltered? Protected?" Erix's voice came out a low hiss. "I was captured as a small girl, sold into slavery! I was attacked by my owner's son, sold again, kidnapped, and very nearly sacrificed! What kind of shelter and protection are you talking about?"