Evil Star

ago, had cut a staircase. The steps were almost invisi-ble, uneven and covered in lichen, but they wove between the trees, twisting up the face of the hill.
    "If you need rest, you say," Atoc said.
    Matt gritted his teeth. He had walked only a few steps and already he needed to rest. It wasn't the steepness of the slope. The air was even thinner than it had been in Cuzco. If he walked too fast, his head would begin to thump and he would feel the burning in his lungs. The secret was to mea-sure out a careful pace, one step at a time, and not to look up. That would only remind him how far he had to go. He turned the llibta over in his mouth. Now he understood why he needed it. He just hoped it would actually work.
    The sun climbed higher and so did the heat. Matt could feel the sweat trickling down his back. Everything was wet. Once, he reached out to steady himself against a tree, and his hand sank into it like a sponge. Beads of moisture hung in the air. Water dripped through his hair and ran down the sides of his face. Pedro stopped and took off his pon-cho. Matt did the same. One of the Indians took them, his face making it clear that he would accept no argument.
    Matt didn't mind. He was using all his strength just to keep going.
    He must have already climbed five hundred steps. And the staircase showed no sign of ending.

    Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star Something bit him. Matt cried out and slapped his arm. A second later, he was bitten again, this time on the side of his neck. He almost wanted to cry... or swear... or scream. How much worse could this journey get? Atoc caught up with him and handed him a cloth filled with some evil-smelling ointment.
    "Midges," he explained. "We call them puma waqachis. It means . . . 'insects who make the puma cry.'"
    "I know how the puma feels," Matt groaned. He scooped up some of the ointment and rubbed it into his skin. It mixed instantly with his sweat. Matt felt it trickle down his stomach and around his hips. His clothes were sticking to him like a second skin. Another midge bit him on the ankle. Matt closed his eyes for a moment, then set off again.
    They stopped twice for water. The Indian guides had plastic bottles in their backpacks. Matt forced himself to drink only a little, aware that all five of them had to share the same supply. The sun was high above them now and he began to wonder if there was something wrong with his vision. The forest seemed hazy and out of focus.
    Then he realized that in the heat, all the moisture was turning to steam. Soon he was completely wrapped in a dense white fog, barely able to see the man in front of him.
    "Stay close!" Atoc called out. His voice came from nowhere. He could have been on another planet. "Not far now..."
    They emerged from the cloud forest suddenly and unex-pectedly.
    One moment, Matt was fighting his way through the undergrowth, the next he had emerged on the edge of a huge canyon. The sky was clear. A vast mountain range stretched out in front of him, many of the peaks covered in snow. Matt was close to exhaustion. He was Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star soaking wet and had a vicious headache. But even so, he felt a sense of elation. He had never thought mountains could be so huge. Some of them seemed to be touching the edge of space. Looking down, he saw that it was raining in the can-yon. But the rain was below him.
    He had climbed above cloud level.
    “You see .. . ?" Atoc pointed to one of the mountains. From where they were standing, it looked a little like a human head.
    "Mandango," he explained. "The Sleep-ing God."
    Pedro had caught up with Matt. He stood panting on the edge of the abyss. He rasped out a few words in Spanish. Atoc smiled for the first time since he and Matt had spo-ken. "He says he feels terrible,"
    he translated for Matt. "But you look worse."
    "Where now?" Matt gasped. He couldn't believe they had climbed all this way up just to go down again.
    "It is not so far," Atoc said. "But take care. It is very far if you fall "
    Atoc wasn't exaggerating. A single, well-defined path led down the side of the canyon. Somehow Matt knew that it must have been cut into the rock face by hand. There was something completely unnatural about it. The path was flat and the surface was almost as polished as the streets of Cuzco. The one thing it wasn't, though, was wide. In places there was barely a meter between the wall and the hideous drop over the side. If Matt had taken