Now Hiram was going to miss Ollantaytambo, too.
Folklore had it that the stone fortress was built by a senior Incan general. He'd fallen in love with the
Emperor's daughter, a sacred maiden forbidden to mingle with the warrior caste. The couple eloped,
accompanied by the general's faithful soldiers. Knowing her father had a duty to the Sun God to
reclaim her, the couple built Ollantaytambo to hold the Emperor at bay.
The massive walls withstood siege for many years before there was a reconciliation. Everybody
lived happily ever after. That was then....
Hiram was enjoying a rare moment's intestinal
peace, his head back against the stone, eyes closed against the fierce sun, when he felt the earth
beneath him move. He gagged, his throat on fire, because everything solid had long since been
regurgitated.
There was a loud crack, and a chunk of the stone he'd been leaning against broke away. It hit Hiram in
the small of the back, knocking him forward. His body twisted as he fell so that he landed on his back,
looking up at the stronghold towering above him.
A bright blue light seemed to be emanating from the summit, two hundred feet above him. There was
the noise of thunder, but louder than any Hiram had ever heard. A retaining wall near the top gave
way, and car-sized boulders began to bounce and slide down the steep slopes.
Someone screamed, and Hiram realized it was he himself, as the entire fortress of Ollantaytambo
began to slip down the hillside toward him.