The Ugly One Read online

  No, the Sacred Rock whispered. There is no mistake, Marked One. You will become a most powerful priestess.

  I crawled to its base through the mud and rain and placed my hand against its rough body once more. You are worthy, most worthy, it reassured me. I bowed my head, trying to accept its message with grace and gratitude. I was worthy.

  23

  Kachitu

  Beauty

  YOU might not think I could sleep upon finding out I was the Marked Girl. But I had stayed awake the night before, and speaking with the rock and then the Villac Uma had left me exhausted. True, nagging worries filled my head. What if I drank the sacred drink and didn’t go to Beyond? Would Inti refuse to rise? Would the Villac Uma decide not to train me? I had sought Beyond and had failed time and again. How could I find it on command during the Inti Raymi festival? I told these worries to hush, that it was my sacred duty to be well rested and refreshed when the evening’s festivities began. I walked back to the wasi in an exhausted trance. Sumac was nowhere to be seen. I lay upon the floor and fell into a deep sleep.

  Mother Jaguar came to me in my dreams and spoke tenderly. “Come. Play with my children.” The two cubs were frolicking in the corner of the cave. I crept to them slowly, wanting to surprise them. With a fast pounce, I caught the tail of one and the hind leg of the other. They spun and nipped at me playfully. The larger of the two nudged my forehead with his own, a tender cat caress of friendship. In this way, I was finally able to play with the cubs that I had approached when I was four.

  “Thank you,” I said to Mother Jaguar. “Your children are lovely.”

  I awoke from this dream abruptly. Two Sun Maidens were kneeling over me, gently shaking my arms to rouse me. Their faces were so beautiful, the cloth of their dresses so fine, the scent of their perfume so delicate, I was unsure what to do or say. I jolted upward, swinging my head to cover my cheek with my hair. Too late I remembered I had cut off my long, flowing strands and couldn’t shield my scar from their gaze. I would like to say that I was at peace with this shorter hair, but I felt horribly exposed and uncomfortable.

  “Marked Girl,” one of them said in a hushed voice. “We have come to prepare you.”

  The other Maiden smiled warmly, and I realized it was my very own sister, Chasca! We beamed at each other and embraced. To have her with me, to see her again, was a gift from the gods. I said nothing as each of them took one of my hands. I hoped Chasca and I would have the chance to be alone together, but now was not the time to talk.

  The rains had stopped while I slept. The three of us walked as one to the Acllahuasi, the Sun Maidens’ convent, and the air was full of the fresh, earthy smell that a strong rain leaves. The Acllahuasi was a blur of beautiful faces and fine scents and giggling voices. A group of Maidens gathered around me in a room filled with cloth and jewelry. They studied me intently, discussing how best to present me. Chasca stayed by my side the entire time.

  An older Maiden stepped forward with an air of authority. “I am Ocllo.”

  I nodded to her, not sure what name to offer. Finally, I said, “I am the Marked Girl.”

  She accepted the name. “The hair”—she pointed to my head—“must be evened. And I think braided would be best. Let us cleanse her first.”

  They led me to a fountain. I stripped off my dirty travel wrap and stepped in. The water was soothing and abundant. In a year of no rains, this was the most luxurious of baths.

  One of the Maidens said, “This water flows from the direction of your home llaqta. It will make your skin soft and glowing.”

  Hands rubbed me with pumice and scented cleansers. Oils were rubbed into my hair and skin. The Maidens used a small knife with an ornately embellished golden handle to cut and smooth my hair, and many hands began twining small strands into a series of formal hanging braids.

  I could see from her demeanor that Chasca was still adjusting to her new life. This Sun Maiden world of baths and fine jewelry and formal hair weaving was foreign to her, and she was no longer the prettiest girl whose beauty demanded the attention of everyone around her. Was she happy here? And how had she felt when she heard that I was the Marked Girl? Again I hoped we would have time together without the others hovering about.

  “Now the clothing,” Ocllo said. Several dresses of finely woven cloth were brought out. Some had beautiful patterns of red and yellow lines crisscrossing the fabric. Some had feathers or shells woven into the designs. “Which do you like?” she asked me.

  I was to choose? They were all so lovely! Shyly, I pointed to one with red feathers woven across the chest, in honor of Sumac.

  The Maidens nodded in approval and slipped it onto my body. Never had I felt material so soft. Someone secured a necklace of large red oyster shells around my neck, and a broad bracelet of silver was pushed onto my wrist. One of the Maidens draped a shimmering shawl about my shoulders and secured it with a shining golden campu. Someone else placed a headdress of pure white feathers atop my head. In the center, a lone golden feather, the mark of a new shaman, stood tall and bright. Soft sandals were placed in front of my feet, and I stepped into them.

  “Here, attach this at your side,” Ocllo said, handing me a koka bag made entirely of red feathers. “The Villac Uma will give you the dried leaves that all shamans carry, and you can place them inside.”

  I nodded and secured the bag at my hip.

  The Maidens stepped back to look at me. I was self-conscious under their scrutiny. The clothes and scents and jewelry were lovely and special, but I was the same girl underneath all this finery. I still felt like the Ugly One. My scar was completely exposed, and it took all my will not to cover my cheek with my hand.

  Ocllo came toward me. “May I?” she said with her arm extended. She was asking to touch my scar. Of course I didn’t want her to, but how could I refuse?

  With all the Maidens watching and my sister holding my hand protectively, Ocllo reached a tentative finger to my face and rested it on the corner of my eyebrow. Her touch was soft and curious as she followed the mark down my face to the corner of my mouth. “It looks like the Apurimac River,” she said with awe in her voice, and the others nodded their heads in agreement. “You are lucky the spirits have touched you so. Every girl here wishes she were the one to have been marked in such a sacred manner.”

  This was too much to accept. I bowed my head.

  “Are you ready?” Ocllo asked me.

  “Yes,” I said. I was nervous, but I was also eager to begin the night’s festivities. I tried not to think of what was required of me just before dawn.

  24

  Inti Raymi

  Festival of the Sun

  IN a rush of fluttering hands and laughter, the Maidens and I went outside to the central area of the city. It was a large field near the temples in which the people could gather.

  Inti had set, and dozens of fires rose up into the night sky, burning so powerfully that they lit the field almost as if it were daytime. They reminded me of the mighty fire that had bitten its keeper at the Gathering. Each of these fires had a keeper as well. The huge blazes were meant to light the way during this longest night of the year, so Inti would see the path to come back to us. They were a flaming invitation to the Sun God not to abandon his children forever.

  Drums beat insistently, and wooden flutes cast their haunting spells on the many people gathering in the field. They were all dressed in their finest clothing and jewelry, strutting about and feeling joyful on this celebratory night. Aromas of freshly cooked food wafted about, intermingling with the scent of the sweet woods burning in the fires.

  In a year of such drought, taking a bath as I had done was a luxury, but it was nothing compared with the feast that evening. There were foods I had never seen or smelled or tasted—a strange creature called a shrimp and some sort of rare fish. Platters of duck and partridge, rabbit and bird eggs, and seasoned venison passed by in dizzying numbers. Kidney beans, peanuts, green and red chili peppers, sorrel, cress, and quinoa, yu
cca and cucumbers, and of course potatoes and corn were piled, steaming, into the people’s bowls. There was honey, fat, and vinegar to spice each dish. Sweet plums and bananas and rough-skinned cherimoyas spilled over the edges of rush mats, ready for the taking. Not a single morsel would be dropped to the ground or go wasted, for it was said that if the food were able, it would weep tears at being misused in any manner.

  The people did not misuse the food. Such a grand feast was appreciated by all as they sat in groups about the fires, scooping large helpings and licking their fingers. Aca flowed in abundance, adding more laughter and happiness.

  I thought of the meager Inti Raymi meal the people back home would be scrambling to put together. They would smile and pretend that all was fine, but it would be no feast. How lovely it would be if Mama and Papa and Hatun could be here with us. I wished all the Incan people could rejoice on this sacred night with such a bountiful celebration.

  Chasca and I walked with the Sun Maidens. They were excitedly pointing here and there, calling out to one another to try this, sample that, look at this unusual color, see how that one steams in its dish just so. I chose some familiar foods and a few new items, but I was too nervous to eat much. The people kept glancing at me from the side, trying to view the Marked Girl who had brought them the rains. Many smiled at me if they managed to catch my eye. It was an odd sensation, to receive so much attention, to be so admired, after a lifetime of rejection and scorn.

  Chasca took my hand and we moved away from the others. We sat alone to eat and talk, to be sisters together.

  “You look beautiful!” she gushed as she settled herself next to me on a rush mat. “How do you feel?”

  “Wonderful,” I replied, but something in my tone caused my sister to pause and study me intently.

  “What’s troubling you?” she asked in concern.

  “Nothing. What could possibly be wrong?” I replied in what I thought was an innocent voice.

  Chasca laughed. “Don’t try to fool me, Micay. I was there when you were born!”

  I tried to smile at my older sister, but my face faltered. “Chasca, this all seems so impossible. What if everyone is wrong? What if I’m not the Marked Girl? What if I can’t travel to Beyond at the ceremony? What if I fail the people? What if all I have ever truly been and ever will be is the Ugly One?”

  “They chose right and true,” Chasca replied in a fierce tone. “Do you think the Villac Uma could make such a mistake?”

  I had reassured myself with the very same thought.

  “And,” Chasca added, “the rains came when you asked for them, didn’t they? I have always known that your path was special. Sacred. I’ve told you this before. You didn’t believe me, but I knew.”

  I thought back to the time Chasca had found me covering my face with mud, trying in vain to hide my scar. She had said, even then, that I was special. Perhaps she truly had known all along. I reached over and took her hand as I offered a simple smile of gratitude. She squeezed back, the strength in her touch telling me how deeply she believed in me. It was true that here in Sacred Sun City, Chasca was one of many lovely Sun Maidens, but in my eyes she had an inner beauty that shone the most brightly of all.

  “You’re glad it is I and not you who spoke to the gods,” I said.

  She laughed. “Yes. It’s enough for me to be the sister of the Marked Girl. I would prefer to catch the eye of a handsome nobleman.”

  “Have you seen any you like?” I asked.

  “A few,” she mused. “But the most handsome man I have seen so far is one of the llama herders!” She covered her mouth and giggled. “I don’t think Ocllo will allow me anywhere near him, though. She takes her position as our supervisor very seriously.”

  I laughed. Poor Ocllo. If my sister set her heart on someone, it would be difficult to keep her from what she wanted. I wondered what the outcome of my sister’s romantic adventures would be. Would she marry? Would she be happy?

  “Chasca, are you glad you are here?”

  She nodded her head slowly. “There have been some challenges, true. But there have been many, many good things. I know I will lead a happy life.”

  We stared at each other, each of us thinking about our future path.

  “I’m very proud of you,” I said.

  She held me to her. “I’m very, very proud of you.”

  We stayed this way for some time, two sisters clasped in a motionless embrace that spoke of love, of pride, of friendship.

  Storytellers began to gather at the fires. Some of the people flocked to them, attracted to their laughter and fun. They gestured broadly with their arms and made expressive faces, reminding me of Uncle Turu. Other people had begun dancing to the steady beat of the many drummers.

  “I want to dance! Will you join me?” Chasca asked with a gleam in her eyes.

  I smiled. If I couldn’t dance tonight, when could I? “Yes,” I said. “But you go now. I’ll join you soon.”

  “Micay!” she began to protest.

  “I will. I promise. I just want to sit and watch for a while.”

  My sister gave me a stern glance before she leapt up to join the dancers. I lingered behind and nibbled on my food, content to watch for now as the festivities continued.

  “May I join you?” It was Ucho, my longtime enemy, requesting permission to sit with me. He held a plate of food, and his face was uncertain.

  “Of course,” I said.

  He sat. The pounding of the drums filled the empty silence of Ucho’s discomfort. “You, ahhh, you look very nice,” he said at last.

  If someone had told me Ucho would be saying such words to me, I would have called this person a liar.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. We both looked down in embarrassment.

  “When I return to the village, I’ll tell the people you’re the Marked Girl, that you’re to become a shaman.”

  If I travel to Beyond, I thought to myself, but I didn’t share my fears with Ucho. I imagined him arriving home with the news. How would he tell the people? How would they receive the announcement? Would they believe him? Would they cheer for me?

  “Thank you,” I repeated.

  A sudden breeze announced Sumac’s approach. I smiled and held out my arm for my friend, who landed with grace. Ucho flinched at his presence, but Sumac chose to ignore him. Instead, the bird squawked happily at me, as if to say, Hello, here I am, how are you, and what have you been doing this fine evening?

  The yunka man followed Sumac to us. He sat down next to me. Ignoring Ucho much as the bird had, he said, “The Handsome Rainbow and I have enjoyed each other’s company today.”

  “I wondered where my feathered friend had been.”

  “He found me early this morning. It has been a good day we have had together.”

  Sumac bobbed his head and squawked his general happiness, then fluttered to the ground and began eating the food from my dish. Of course he began with the steaming pile of corn. I slid back slightly, not wanting his usual messes to land on my beautiful dress.

  I could hear the drums pounding more loudly, speaking quite clearly to me. Dance! They screamed. Dance! Dance!

  “I told my sister I would join her,” I said, and Ucho, Sumac, and the yunka man all nodded as I rose to find Chasca.

  I sighted her easily enough, dancing next to one of the many drummers. The drummer’s hair was a black blur as he beat on the instrument. His entire being moved with the intricate rhythms he pounded with his hands. I watched, entranced, and my body began to bob up and down in time with his movements. I started to sway, and soon enough I was turning round and round, just as I had seen Chasca do so many times, just as she was doing right now, her smile a beautiful offering to the sky above. I used to watch my sister with deep envy as she danced with such abandon. Now I would join her.

  I held my hands up to the sky. The stars blurred as I twirled faster and faster, gazing upward as I spun, and they smiled back down at me in happiness. Such freedom, to dance! Why had I neve
r done this before? My braids lightly slapped my cheeks each time I slowed or sped up. My heart beat wildly, as if it were the only thing that existed. It drowned out the sound of the drums. It became the drums as it pounded its own pulsing rhythms into the night.

  Time ceased to have meaning. I could have danced forever. It felt as if I had. But then Ocllo was before me, holding a golden bowl.

  “The Villac Uma has sent this sacred drink for you, Marked Girl,” she said. “It is to prepare you for the ceremony and your journey to Beyond.”

  Already it was time for the sacred drink? My stomach flipped and flopped in fear.

  She handed the bowl to me. It was filled to the brim with a strong-smelling liquid. She said, “It is a mixture of aca and koka and other sacred plants. Drinking it will begin your journey as a shaman priestess.”

  I held the bowl to my lips and tasted a small drop. It was not pleasant, but I could feel its sacred power. I took several gulps.

  “Slowly,” Ocllo said.

  I nodded. I would drink it with reverence.

  Ocllo watched as I took sip after sip of the mixture. I didn’t grimace, though it was increasingly strong in its flavor. But a curious thing began to happen as I neared the bottom of the bowl. The taste was not so objectionable. My senses switched, and the sound of the drums became the taste of the drink. The light of the fires jumped and danced, and the people sitting around the storytellers were boulders rising from the earth. The stars giggled in the sky, and I joined them. Oh, we had such a good laugh!

  I vaguely felt Ocllo pushing the bowl to my lips, and I finished the rest of the drink.

  The Villac Uma appeared as if from nowhere. “Marked Girl,” he whispered in a voice that seemed almost too slow and deep for me to understand, “it is time for the ceremony.”

  I walked carefully, concentrating on each step so as not to fall, the head priest guiding me with his steady hands. The people looked at me, but their faces were a blur. I smiled, hoping they could see how happy I was, how honored.