Event

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"A quest for the riches of the earth brought them to the waters of legend and the greed of man came and destroyed the way of innocence, and the ancient one rose from the depths to consume them."

-- FATHER ESCOBAR CORINTH

CATHOLIC PRIEST TO THE

FRANCISCO PIZARRO EXPEDITIONS

The survivors of his once proud and now cursed expedition were holed up in a large green basin that was fed water by the large and very deep tributary of the Amazon, at least ten leagues from the site of last night's massacre. The large lagoon, which for all practical description was much more like a small lake, lay before them. They had waded along the shore of the tributary, following the treacherous rapids to gain entrance into this hidden Eden that had trees so tall they stretched away and over the dark waters.

It was something Captain Padilla had never thought to see in his lifetime. Beautiful as it was, it was not the kind of place one would choose to conduct a massacre of the small people if they chose to attack them here. It truly was a place God had sculpted when last upon this earth. Tree branches hung out over the water and soft grasses grew all the way to the slow-flowing lagoon. The walls of what had to be an ancient and extinct volcano rose on three sides, actually leaning out over the lagoon, creating three natural shelves.

Flowers of every variety bloomed and nourished honeybees that gently moved from species to species, never noticing or caring about the sudden invasion by the Spaniards. The strange flowers that grew with only small dapples of sunlight were large and the most fragrant Padilla had ever smelled.

The ancient volcanic bowl was not only fed by the Amazon tributary but also by a mammoth waterfall that fell from high above on the far end of the large lagoon. But that was not the outstanding feature of the small valley. There, flanking either side of the tumbling waters of the falls, were pillars. They were at least a hundred and twenty feet high and carved from the surrounding rock, and they supported an arch that vanished into the white waterfall of the river above. Vines coursed through the cracked and weatherworn pillars and in several places had separated the stone completely, making them look as if they would fall at any moment.

Now here he stood, trying to decide if he should make their last stand or continue the insanity of running deeper into the green hell beyond the lagoon. The men knew there might be something here because of those giant pillars, but they had lost all interest in riches and just wanted familiar sights, even Pizarro was preferable to this madness.

Maybe the villagers would take the decision out of his hands and just leave them be, allowing them to go back and skirt the village to the north or south on their trek back into Peru. He would then personally report to the fool Pizarro that the expedition had been for naught, there was nothing but death waiting for any man in the distant valleys of the Amazon.

While he wrote his thoughts down in his personal diary, the map he had made of their travels fell from the back pages where he had placed it. As he bent over to retrieve it, he hesitated momentarily as he was suddenly tempted to leave it to rot on the ground. Then he considered his men and picked it up and placed it back into his journal.

His thoughts of leaving the map so no one could follow were broken by the harsh laughing of the very man who had caused so much horror in the last twelve hours. Such laughter after the spilling of so much blood seemed wrong. The captain looked over at his men. Joaquin Suarez was kneeling by the water with his hair freshly wet after washing the blood from himself and his armor. The soldiers around him looked on and shook their heads, all knowing this man was a danger to them all with his recklessness.

Padilla reached down and retrieved his helmet and that was when he caught a glimpse of a strange visitor to their makeshift rest area. The huge eyes were there for the briefest of moments before whatever it was scurried off through the thick foliage, using it as cover as it slid silently into the waters of the lagoon. Captain Padilla looked around to see if his men had seen the strange little creature, but they were busy washing and lying on the thickly carpeted grass; some of the more experienced soldiers were even knelt in prayer. He once again peered into the thick undergrowth for some sign that the little creature had been there at all, but there was not a trace. He quickly came to the conclusion that it had been nothing but a trick of his overtaxed mind and the darkened jungle floor. Suddenly there was a rustling of bushes behind him and his hand went to his sword.

"My Captain." Ivan Rodrigo Torres, his friend and second-in-command, stepped from the dense growth of the forest. "The Indians have disappeared." He removed his helmet and his long black hair fell free as sweat poured from his face and beard. "One minute we were watching them from a clearing about half a league from here and the next minute they fell back into the jungle and were gone. Our trail into this valley was so obvious they must know where we are." He took a breath and looked around him as he loosened his armor. "I expect them to double back this way, so I placed the men in an excellent position for ambush, but thus far they haven't come."

Padilla patted his old friend on the shoulder. "That is just as well, I can't do this any longer." He lowered his hand and looked around at the darkened area under the thick canopy of trees. "I just feel like resting here for a month before returning and reporting this horrible thing we have done." He pulled the front collar of his armor away from his soaked tunic. "Maybe I'll swim out to the only spot here that has sunlight hitting it and remain there until the Lord pulls me under." He looked at the magnificent waterfall and then back toward the center of the large lagoon and the bright dapples of sunlight that lit the blue waters and made them sparkle.

"I, like most of the men, feel like cutting Suarez's throat for bringing this evil to our doorstep," Torrez said angrily.

"I can't think on that now, my old friend, I am weary to my very bones. Besides, in the end, it is I who will be judged for this debacle, not Suarez."

"Surely Commander Pizarro will not blame you for the actions of this maniac?"

"Pizarro is not an ordinary man and he has little or no patience for incompetence. I can assure you I will be judged harshly for losing his nephew and a chance at finding the Sincaro gold source." He looked at Torrez and smiled. "For my failure the Sincaro will be extinct or enslaved by this time next year," he sighed. "I had the arrogance to believe I could do this another way, I am but a fool."

Loud laughter once again sprang up from the beach area. As both officers turned and walked toward their men, another round of loud and raucous howling came from the lagoon. Upon entering the small clearing, they saw Suarez holding something in the air as the other soldiers hooted loudly, several even patting each other on their backs. As they looked closer at the strange object the soldier was tossing into the air, they saw it resembled a small monkey. Then Padilla realized it was the same creature he; had spied looking at him from the bush only moments before. The captain could clearly see the small animal and its remarkable resemblance to their chattering companions that lived in the trees. In his diary Padilla had listed many different varieties of monkey and other strange animal life, but this was unlike anything he had ever witnessed before in his many travels. On this expedition he had become quite knowledgeable on the far-ranging species that inhabited this new continent; thus the animal that Suarez held in his hands so casually was something he knew to be very special.

"Captain, we have a captive, this little clown tried to steal my satchel with the last of our bread," Rondo Cordoba, the quartermaster, said while gesturing toward the small creature Suarez was toying with.

Padilla and Torrez joined the men, and both were amazed to see the small creature up close. It was a monkey, or what a monkey would look like without so much as a hair on its body. The facial features were close to that of a man, except for the lips. They framed many sharp teeth and were thick, with the upper lip much larger than the bottom and the ears were but small holes in the sides of its head. The tail was slick as a taskmaster's whip, and it swung back and forth quickly as, Padilla surmised, it was agitated at being thrown into the air by Suarez. He saw small protrusions of skin, like a spiny sail, as it flared outward down its back every time it was tossed upwards.

"Stop tormenting that creature, you ignorant fool!" Torrez commanded loudly.

Suarez stopped, looked angrily for a moment at his captain and then at Torrez, and without removing his eyes from the two men, arrogantly tossed the small animal in the air again. He caught it and then concentrated his look on the captain in a silent challenge. Padilla drew his sword and pointed it at the larger man's throat, pressing the blade enough so that blood was soon collecting on the steel blade. His eyes were locked on Suarez and a ghost of a smile touched his lips. He would enjoy sliding his sharp blade into the throat of the very reason for their current predicament, no matter if they needed all the men they could get at that moment.

"As you can see, you fatherless child, our captain is of ill humor today," Torrez said smiling, as he watched his captain and a seemingly unshaken Suarez.

Suarez only ignored the sword and the neck wound and was still holding the animal tightly. He quickly changed his grip, now holding the choking animal by its throat. Its tail was now jittering in small movements that were more of a spasm.

Padilla pressed the blade further into the man's throat, and the arrogance that had been there a moment ago was quickly replaced by a worried frown. Suarez just then noticed there was no laughter from the men around him. He saw there were only looks of anticipation at his seemingly imminent death.

All this time the animal's eyes never left Padilla. It was as if the small creature knew it was the subject of the standoff and was awaiting the captain's next move. Suarez slowly lowered the creature to the white sand that made up the small beach, and the monkey-like animal scurried not towards the jungle or the water, but behind the captain. The beast jumped up and down and spat at Suarez and jabbered as if cursing the large soldier. As Suarez straightened, Padilla pushed the gleaming sword forward, bringing a more satisfying flow of blood to the blade, where it rolled slowly down the shiny surface and dripped onto the few feet of pure white sand.

"We may need this fool, Captain," Ivan Torrez said loudly so all could hear. "We may still have him up on charges upon our return, but we need his strength to fight, or to flee from this place, and God willing, he may even redeem himself at some point in this nightmare." He placed his hand on the captain's arm, but gave Suarez a withering look.

Padilla, without dropping his gaze, slowly lowered the sword and just as slowly wiped the blood from its tip onto the red sleeve of the big man, then he slowly slid the weapon back into the ornate scabbard at his side.

The small creature was still holding onto the captain's leg and hissing at Suarez as if cursing its antagonist. Padilla reached down and, using both hands, gently picked the animal up and looked it over. It was breathing through its small nostrils and open mouth, but it also had what looked like the gills of a fish right where the small neck joined the head, three rows of soft skin arranged along its jawline, flaring and then closing, as they too sought life-sustaining air. There were fin-like features along its forearms and a small spiny dorsal fin, again like a fish, on its back traveling the length of the animal's spine. It had sharp clear claws arranged on its fingers, and the toes were like equipped. The tail wasn't as smooth as he had first thought. It had small fish-type scales all the way to its tip where it suddenly flared and tapered to a paddle-like feature resembling a shark's tailfin, and as Padilla watched, it swished through the air in what seemed a contented arc. The beast was as foul-smelling as a fish that had washed up on the shore.

"This is the most amazing animal I have ever seen in all of our travels," Padilla said softly, as the large black eyes of the creature blinked, not with eyelids like his own, but a set of clear membranes.

"I think it looks like my mother-in-law," Torrez shouted to the staring company as he slapped the captain on the back in an attempt to lighten the darkened mood.

The men laughed, even Padilla smiled as he chanced a wary eye toward Suarez.

"Captain, look!" one of the men shouted.

Padilla lowered the small creature and looked to where his men were pointing toward the calm waters of the lagoon, as another of the small animals stood holding a struggling fish in both its clawed hands. The first animal scurried up to the newcomer, waddling bowlegged on its paddle-like feet, and started jabbering loudly. The animal looked on and then tossed the fish underarm toward the group of Spaniards. It landed on the sand and flopped around, then lay still, the small claw marks evident on the smooth skin of the large catfish.

As they watched in amazement, another and then another of the animals exited the water, stepping up tentatively and tossing more flopping fish onto the small shoreline as the soldiers looked at each other and nervously laughed.

"Maybe it's an offering?" Rondo ventured to no one in particular.

"Gather the fish, men, we will not waste this gift brought by our new friends," Padilla ordered. "Collect them all so we can also feed the men who are guarding the perimeter."

As the men moved forward to collect the offered bounty, they failed to notice as large bubbles appeared in the middle of the lagoon and slowly circled under the sunlight, then vanished after a moment. Nor did they hear the sudden silence that filled the trees around them as the birds grew momentarily still in their high nests and roosts, but they did see the small creatures look at one another as they jabbered back and forth and then slowly headed back toward the water. The first one, the one Padilla had saved from the murderous Suarez, was looking back at the newcomers to its beautiful world. To the men who were watching the strange exodus, it looked as if the animal were saddened at leaving.

Padilla looked away from the lagoon and was amazed at the horde of fish as he counted over ten species of varying types. But just one caught his eye, and he bent over to examine it. He called Torrez over to see this wonder. The fish had huge scales and very strange fins on its lower belly toward the thick and powerful-looking tail. These most unusual fins looked as if they had small feet-like appendages on the very tips. The mouth was huge and filled with lethal-looking teeth, the jaw jutted far forward, unlike any fish he had ever seen, almost like a barracuda's, only far more pronounced. As the two officers examined the strange fish, its eye seemed to roll and look at them, and as it did, the mouth snapped open and closed. They quickly straightened up and looked at the men who were starting to build fires for cooking and to guard against the coming night. Padilla once again bent down toward the large fish. He was looking at something on its blackened scales; he reached down and lightly rubbed the strange, coarse scales. The fish moved momentarily and then lay still. Padilla held his fingers close to his face and rubbed them together; small gold flakes gently fell to the tips of his worn boots.

Padilla lay under one of the many ancient and beautiful trees that permeated the area with their massive roots projecting from the earth like a giant's arms ripping through the fabric of a blouse. He had his booted feet close to their small fire, drying the thick leather as best he could. His diary was in his hands, and he had just finished recording the observations of this eventful day. His last entry written before he closed the small book declared that the battle with the Sincaro was due to his own negligence.

He had considered not recording evidence of gold found lodged in the scales of the fish. But he had never omitted anything from his observations and would not start now. Pizarro would be startled to read about a source of gold so abundant that it was actually brought to the surface on the backs of fish. The captain shook his head at the thought as he placed the diary back into his tunic.

Torrez lay beside Padilla, playing with one of the strange monkey-like animals that had appeared after the sun had set behind the dense jungle. The other men played with the numerous animals that came and went with their strange jabbering and constant curiosity of the many fires the men had built up. They were a nuisance as they emptied rucksacks and even a few of their precious black-powder bags, actually spilling the contents dangerously close to the fires. Padilla had eight of the men out on watch making sure the Sincaro didn't make a return visit.

"What do you make of them, my Captain?" Torrez asked, holding a small piece of bacon out for the visitor who sat on his chest, its tail swinging back and forth like a happy puppy. Its little claws finally stabbed the small piece of meat and popped it into its mouth, smiling and jabbering softly at the man, the mouth working frantically along with the small gills.

"I think they are an offshoot or very close relative of the monkey, just one that happens to live in the water, surely not a design that God had intended." Then the captain laughed. "But who knows the mind of God, but God himself?" Padilla watched Torrez and the animal a moment. "What is truly amazing is the fact that you can see their small gills working, moving like those of a fish, but then you notice that the rise and fall of its breathing is light, almost as if it is taking air through both systems. It must be so for them to live out of the water for such long periods of time."

"We need such devices, my captain, for breathing on board those stinking vessels of ours."

"Yes, if our friend Rondo over there gets a bellyful of beans and pork fat, the whole ship is in danger of choking to death or exploding like a musket," Padilla joked.

The two men were silent a moment as they listened to the comforting sound of the men as they spoke and talked of things other than death and this accursed mission. Then Padilla placed his diary in his belt pouch and looked over at his friend.

"When we entered the water in the outer valley, the stone monoliths, what did you think of them?"

"I was hoping that subject would not have arisen after the sun went down, if at all," Torrez said as he gently laid the small animal on the ground and watched a moment as it scurried away. "As for what I thought at the time? They scared me." He looked over at Padilla and could make out the captain's eyes on him. "You know me, I fear no man, or for that matter, nothing I have come across before. But those carvings gave me chills as I looked upon them, even as I ridiculed our men for the same reason."

"The Watchers of this valley, gods of the lagoon, that's what I called them in my diary. They were very old carvings, I suspect even older than some of the Inca dwellings we found in Peru."

"The age isn't what concerned me, my Captain, it was the forms themselves. I would hate to run into one of those while bathing, I'll tell you."

Padilla laughed loudly and was about to comment when a shrill piercing scream ripped through the night around them. The small creatures screeched and jabbered at the noise and shot off for the water, making little splashes as they dove for the safety of the lagoon. Padilla and Torrez were up in a second, Ivan with his sword drawn.

"What is it?" Padilla called to his men as they entered the circle of light cast by the fire. The men were angry, yelling as they pointed forward toward the small shoreline.

One man stood at the head of the others and was holding the limp and obviously lifeless body of one of the little creatures. He had the small animal clutched by its broken neck, and it dangled, almost formless in the firelight.

"You bloody bastard!" one of his men yelled. "Why did you have to do that?"

The man who was standing and facing everyone was none other than Suarez. The huge man stood his ground and stared back at the men, almost daring them to make a move toward him. He had no armor and his scarlet shirt glimmered as if with blood in the firelight

"What is happening here?" Padilla asked, knowing all too well the answer to his question.

One of the soldiers stepped forward, a boy of only twenty, pointing to where the big man stood.

"That bastard did that for no other reason than the want of killing."

"He bit me and I will kill anything I wish, man or animal," Suarez said, still looking at the group rather than at his captain, shaking the lifeless body of the harmless creature.

"The man is mad, Captain, we must put him down as we would a dog with the foaming sickness," Torrez hissed, stepping closer to Suarez and forgetting his earlier words of restraint. His sword was pointing straight at the big man's chest.

"He bit you by accident, you're the one who pulled the bread away and allowed his teeth to strike you instead of the bread," another man said as the others shouted agreement.

"Suarez, you have caused enough trouble, and it ends here, now, tonight," Padilla stated flatly and without emotion. He reached over and made his lieutenant lower his sword. "This will be my responsibility; you will stand down, my friend."

"You must not go into armed combat, my Captain, we cannot risk you. I will do it."

Suarez tossed the dead creature onto the sand, backed up three paces to the water's edge, and slowly drew his sword.

"I will make quick work of the man who comes for me," he said, slicing the sword through the air.

The rest of the men placed hands on swords or pistols, demonstrating their willingness to dispatch this man. They would make sure he brought them no more ill will.

"Stand down, all you men," Padilla said as he advanced, drawing his own thin blade, not removing his eyes from Suarez. "This is your captain's duty."

Suddenly small explosions of water erupted from the lagoon as dozens of the small creatures burst through to the surface, some clearing the water by two and three feet. They hurriedly swam to the far side of the lagoon, and before the men knew what they were looking at, the fast and agile animals were all scrambling up trees and large bushes on the opposite shore. They jabbered back at the water they had just exited and then grew suddenly quiet. That was when the men noticed that the animal sounds in the deep night had ceased, as if the entire jungle had grown mute as the two Spaniards faced each other.

Suarez had backed further into the water waiting for the advance of Padilla. But he had turned at the sound of the small creatures and their noisy flight from the water.

"Rondo, take five men and follow the shoreline and see what you can see. Something has frightened them," Torrez ordered.

Rondo pointed out five men, and they broke free from the group and started to walk slowly down the slim shoreline, buckling their armor and drawing their swords as they did. Rondo cocked his two pistols and then placed himself at the head of the small band of Spaniards. They walked cautiously, and then they disappeared around some bushes at the turn in the lagoon.

Padilla was as calm as the night around them as he advanced on the larger Suarez. He slowly brought his sword up toward the other man's barrel chest. Suarez smiled and moved deeper into the water and swung his own sword in a slow deliberate arc, parting it with a swish. Then as he saw the anger etching the face of Padilla, he backed deeper into the dark water.

The remaining men in camp froze when they heard the large man shout in terror as he was grabbed from beneath the water, his legs jerked out from under him so hard that one moment he was screaming and the next he had vanished. The big man surfaced briefly, splashing and in shock with the whites of his eyes showing brightly, and then he was quickly pulled into the lagoon before he could utter a second cry of pain or terror at what was happening. Suarez quickly disappeared below the roiling surface with nothing but bubbles and two quick slashes of his shining sword to mark his trail to death's door.

"What in the name of God was that?" Torrez yelled as he ran to the water's edge.

Men pointed, and then they all saw the bubbles and a sharp "V"-shaped wake surface as something was traveling fast toward the far side of the lagoon, toward the spot that Torrez had sent Rondo and the five others. They soon heard splashing and screams of terror splitting the quiet night, and two loud reports as Rondo fired his pistols. Then amongst the screams of men and the dying echo of the gunshots, they all heard a sound they would take with them to their graves. The roar was like a deep echo of an enraged demon from their nightmares. The horrid sound reverberated and sent chills down their spines.

The screams of his men ended as suddenly as they had begun, and in an instant the night became still once again.

Torrez was suddenly at the stunned Padilla's side, pressing his armor into his hands. The captain sheathed his sword and slipped the heavy iron onto his back and chest. Then they watched the spot where the men had disappeared just moments before. Suddenly a dark figure of a man emerged through the bushes and stumbled forward, obviously wounded. Two soldiers ran to the man and brought him into the bright circle cast by the firelight. There were deep gouges in the man's face and arms as if he had been mauled by a tiger. The punctures in his armor were deep and ragged. The soldier's left eye was missing and he cried out, claiming for all to hear that the Devil had risen from the water.

Padilla ran over, knelt next to his soldier, and grimaced as the young man's wounds were some of the worst he had ever seen. The rest of the men turned to the lagoon and watched. The jungle had grown quiet around them as the captain heard the man cough out the same words as before, only the ending was different. "The Devil has risen from the water and he has come for his offering." Then the man's eyes were void of life as his pain ended and darkness covered him.

Padilla didn't hesitate in ordering his men to form up. The sentries had entered the campsite with swords drawn and flintlocks aimed. They had lost seven men in as many minutes to something in the lagoon that he cared never to see or even hear again. He would leave this place, retreat, and never venture into the jungle again. They would return to Pizarro and tell him they were cowards and that he could punish them however he deemed fit, but he could never send them here again and that was good enough.

"We march west tonight, and we stop only when we are under the light of the Lord's sun once again."

The Devil can have his home, Padilla thought, and he prayed that no man would ever find this place again, for men were not meant to be here. He would give the map he had made of the valley to Father Corinth and warn him that this was truly the playground of demons.

With the night sentries on the point, Padilla ordered his soldiers forward. But just as they nervously took their first step, the night exploded around them. The animal came at them, not from the water, but from the bush. It seemed to have followed the tracks of the soldier who had escaped it. The darkness around the screaming men was rent with the powerful and enraged cry of the beast as it attacked. Padilla felt the warmth of something striking his face, and then the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.

"Captain, into the water while there is time. Fall back, men, into the water and swim for it!" Torrez screamed as he pushed the shocked Padilla into the cool lagoon. "We can gain the trail on the other side."

Padilla was still trying to peer into the blackness as he was pulled away by Torrez. That was when the beast stepped closer to one of the open firepits and swiped its strangely formed hand at one of his men. The soldier was silent as the claws raked down his face and tore through his chest armor. As the Spaniards watched in horror, the animal was struck from behind with a sword, and then a shot rang out from a pistol. The beast did not slow down, even though Padilla saw the ball strike the animal in the upper chest, slinging scales and red meat into the air. The beast screamed a cry of outrage and quickly reached out and grabbed the hand that wielded the sword and easily lofted the man over its head. Then it threw the body against one of the large trees as if he weighed no more than a piece of firewood.

Another Spaniard made a break for the trail they had used to enter the valley, and that was when Padilla saw the real speed of the creature. It easily headed off the soldier and attacked from the front, throwing its massive weight against the man and driving him to the ground.

"Look at the size of this devil," Padilla mumbled while Torrez pushed his captain into deeper water. "It is a man!"

Padilla snapped out of his shock as the cool water closed over his head. He reached for the buckled straps that held his armor in place and quickly shrugged out of it. The heavy armor was sent to the bottom as Padilla pushed his way to the surface. As his head broke free of the surface, he saw Torrez ahead of him swimming for all he was worth for the far side of the lagoon. He started after his lieutenant while the screaming of his remaining men continued on shore.

Padilla was starting to lose the strength in his arms after ten minutes of swimming blindly across the lagoon. His ears were filled with his own struggles and the roar of water ahead of him emanating from the waterfall. His arms were flailing and his knee-high boots had filled with water, and he was finding it very difficult to maintain the momentum needed to keep his head above water. He was starting to swallow more and more of the strangely cool and sweet water. He felt himself go under and was aware of water flowing down his throat. He thought he heard shouts as he began to give up his struggle and let the cool water embrace him.

It was comforting because now he wouldn't have to face any of his men who had survived and he could accompany those who hadn't on their final journey toward forgiveness for what they had wrought on the innocent Sincaro. Captain Padilla even managed a smile as his lungs took in his last breath of, not air, but water. Suddenly he felt hands grabbing at him from above. Even his beard was pulled on as he was lifted up out of the water. His eyes rolled as he tried to catch one single blessed breath but found his lungs were full.

"Captain, Captain," Torrez shouted.

Padilla felt himself rolled over and his back struck as if it were an anvil. He felt his spine pop as he was pushed on heavily by Torrez trying desperately to expel the water from his lungs.

"Breathe, my Captain, don't you leave me here in this black place!"

Padilla felt the warm water vomit from his stomach and lungs, and the pain hit him in earnest when he tried to replace the water with precious air. He felt his body spasm as his lungs slowly brought in the needed oxygen. A loud moan escaped his shivering lips, and he slowly brought in another breath.

Padilla rolled over and tried to sit up but failed miserably. Other hands quickly grabbed for him, and he was lifted to his feet. He looked over and saw that the two soldiers were Juan Navarro, a cook's assistant, and Javier Ramon, a blacksmith. The captain saw they were only feet from the waterfall. He looked up and saw where the water cascaded from somewhere high above. He coughed, trying to clear his throat of the remaining water in his throat. He saw Torrez standing at the small shore, staring out across the lagoon.

"The screaming of our men has stopped," he said without turning as Padilla approached and watched the distant, dwindling fires of their destroyed camp across the lagoon.

After a moment, Torrez took Padilla by his shoulders and turned him away from the distant scene of destruction. As they walked toward the wall of rock that ascended straight up from the lagoon and bordered the waterfall, Torrez knew they were being watched.

"Look," he softly spoke, not wanting to attract the attention of the other men.

Padilla looked up at the spot Torrez had indicated. Another of the statues carved into the wall looked down upon them. It resembled the same beast that had just attacked them, and the same as the two images that guarded the tributary. It had been hidden from their vantage point across the lagoon. This one was larger and it stood alone. How had they missed seeing it during the daylight hours? Padilla didn't know.

They both turned as they heard a loud splash in the water. The noise had come from their destroyed campsite. Both men watched and saw the ripples and large wake that was streaking toward their side of the lagoon.

"Captain, Lieutenant, there is a cave rising above the waterline under the falls," Navarro said as he approached. "You won't believe it, there are stairs."

Torrez turned and looked at the sheer cliff in front of them which held only the carved figure of the animal that was now their God of judgment. Then he looked down the shoreline at the distant jungle. Surely, whatever this creature was that was coming after them would surface long before they could reach the trees. He frantically looked around, and then pushed Navarro forward.

"Take us to this cave, soldier," he shouted as he started pulling Padilla after him.

The three men joined Ramon the blacksmith, who was waving for them to hurry. He had caught sight of the underwater demon as it sped to this side of the lagoon. As they came upon the waterfall, the roar drowned out all talk. Torrez looked up and then down at the point where the water struck the lagoon. Then he saw it. It was just a darker outline against the cliff face, but it was there. The cave rose about ten feet above the water and then disappeared into the depths. He saw no other choice. He dove headfirst into the water, the others, including Padilla, followed. They had to dive deep to avoid the crushing water of the falls, the vortex of which pushed them even further into the depths as they fought to swim into the dark and forbidding cave. As they disappeared, the creature changed its underwater course and swam toward the white water of the falls.

Two months later, a lone survivor was saved from the river. At first the Spaniards who discovered him thought him to be an Indian, but soon realized the man had been part of Captain Padilla's expedition. The men had struggled to carry the survivor back into Peru but knew they would never make it. Word was sent to Father Corinth and the survivor, knowing this, had miraculously clung to life. The man was dying from exposure and a strange sickness the men in camp didn't recognize but could only guess at. His only possession was a book the men had mistakenly taken for a Bible that the survivor held tightly to his injured chest. Every time they tried to relieve him of the book, the man would rise like a tiger to protect it. They even tried to pry his fingers from it when he had passed out, but that had proven just as futile.

When Father Corinth arrived at the small outpost with a rank of Pizarro's personal guard, the man was waiting for him, only he waited on his deathbed. For hours the lone survivor of the expedition spoke softly with Corinth. The priest had listened, never interrupting the soldier while he examined his wounds and nursed him through the strange sickness. As he spoke, gasping in inner pain and getting weaker for each word he managed to hiss out through clenched teeth, he reached into his tunic and withdrew two small objects. One was a large golden nugget. The other was a strange green mineral, a strange chalk-like substance imbedded in stone. It was strangely warm to the touch. The soldier pulled Corinth close to him, close enough that the priest could feel his high temperature rising from his face. A dire warning was told, barely audible and with fetid breath. Corinth removed his large cross from around his neck and removed the bottom portion. The inside of the cross was hollow and he easily slid the small mineral samples into it. The cross was made of a soft metal covered with gold, not only for beauty but to give the cheap metal more strength. It was of a sort the church frowned upon as being arrogant, but it had been a ceremonial gift from his dead mother given to him on the day he took his vows. It was very beautifully engraved and far too large, and she had spent every ounce of her meager savings to present him with it. He put the end back on the cross and placed it around his neck.

It was long after sunup when Father Corinth finally emerged from the small hut, and he carried the book with him.

"How is he, Father?" one of the soldiers asked. "Is there any news of our friends? Is Captain Padilla still alive?"

"The soldier is dead. His name was Ivan Torrez."

"Lieutenant Torrez? We know this man, he looked nothing like him," another soldier said as many of the escort gathered to hear the Father.

"The plague will change a man's features so you would not even recognize your own brother."

The men stepped away in fear. That one word was enough to weaken their knees and make the brave conquerors cringe.

Father Corinth brought the book to his chest and started to turn from the gathered soldiers.

"What of the expedition, Father, did he give a location of their whereabouts?"

He stopped and turned. "Captain Padilla and his men will stay where they are. Get your men ready to break camp, and bury Lieutenant Torrez deep. Honor him, he was a brave man," Corinth said as he bowed his head and crossed himself. The Padilla diary, which contained the unholy route the doomed expedition had charted, was clutched tightly to his chest.

He slowly moved away from the stunned men. The Father knew he would have to either destroy the diary and the map that would again take the greed of man to follow Padilla's directions, or bury them so deep no one could ever find them. The diary was the only proof of what wonders the captain had found under the falls of that lost lagoon, but because of men like Francisco Pizarro, the contents could never see the light of day. For only death could come to those that ventured into that dark lagoon and he would take it upon himself to make sure the pope sided with his decision.

A few months before the death of Francisco Pizarro, the general ordered one last expedition sent out to try and trace the route of Captain Padilla's ill-fated journey. The Spaniards found only helmets, rusted armor, rotted clothing, and broken swords on a path that stretched for thirty miles along the Amazon, which was clear evidence of a running battle with an enemy that had since disappeared into the jungle. The trail leading to the deep tributary that led to that dark and beautiful lagoon was never found. As for the men of Padilla's brave band, the Spaniards never found a trace of them or the gold they had sought. Pizarro, in what little time remained to him, would continue to lust for El Dorado. But in the end another generation of explorers and adventurers would have to do the searching.

Rumors of the lost expedition of Captain Padilla filtered down through the years, and even a few old artifacts turned up from time to time as the jungle begrudgingly gave up her digested secrets. Whatever lived in that forgotten lagoon would wait patiently for men to come into its realm once again.