The Inca Prophecy

8 Castles

Madalina and the boy took a train to Alicante after two days at the local shelter of St. Iglesia in Castillo, a town well away from the core of her crime. Fortunately for Madalina, the Spanish police took a while to spread awareness of her flight and none of the details had reached the public in Castillo yet. She was convinced that all the police stations had been notified nationally, but they were hardly in touch with the people of the large town where she and Raul had been hiding.

It was time to move on, something unexpectedly effortless considering she had expected the boy to be difficult and unwilling. But Raul followed his new keeper faithfully, never asking about the dead woman his rescuer had mistaken to be his mother. Not once did he question Madalina’s commands or ideas, not even down to the food she gave him to eat. She was even fonder of him now that she knew him better, an unspoiled little boy with little resistance to a stranger. Psychologically it was strange to her, but in the current level of shit she was wandering through, she was not going to question his obedience.

“Where are we going, Madi?” he asked as she took him by the hand and skipped over the threshold of the train station.

“Have you ever seen a castle, Raul?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Many,” he shrugged. “Why?”

His answer took the fire from her zeal, but she maintained her enthusiasm nonetheless. “Um, because I thought it would be nice to see the big old castle in Sax, that’s all.”

“Oh, I haven’t seen that one before,” he said, smiling. “Is it in Spain?”

“Of course,” she chuckled. “Why? Where are the castles you’ve seen before?”

“I don’t know,” he answered sincerely. “I was too small to remember where they were, but I remember some things about each one. There was one that Mara took me to, once, that was built in a triangle.”

“Like a pyramid?” she asked, assuming that Mara was the women she’d killed in the bathroom. “In a triangle, like Egypt’s Giza pyramids?” She sat down on a bench on the platform to wait for the train. He shook his head confidently. “No, not like that. It had three sides, three walls with a courtyard in the center. Mara’s friends were there too. They said it was like King Arthur’s castle, but the knights are all dead.”

“What did they say the place was called?” Madalina asked as she pulled the boy onto her lap. “Did they tell you?”

“I don’t know,” he frowned at her, sounding vaguely intolerant. “They all spoke German. How am I supposed to know what they said? I’m Spanish. See?” he grouched, gesturing to his face. Madalina could not help but find it extremely cute. Shaking with laughter, she gave him a tight hug.

“Yes, my darling boy, I can see that you are Spanish, just like me.” The statement she made just then instilled in her a subliminal pride, a feeling of potent heritage welling inside of her that she could not readily explain. She clutched at the tickets, suddenly remembering why they were going on the train ride. “Hey, this castle is lovely. I’ve seen pictures of it, but I’ve never been there. You’re going to love it!” she said with overdone cheer to cover up the sinister reasons for visiting the landmark in Alicante.

It was not so much the landmark she wished to visit, but to lay low in the little town that slept in its mighty shadow. Sax was an unassuming little place, full of history and ruinous buildings. At the same time modern life continued running through its veins. Madalina had once driven through there with Javier and remembered the isolated nature of the place, even at full functioning capacity.

The accommodations there would be cheap, she guessed, so she could figure out a way to get hold of Javier to help them flee Spain. Even though her brother was a painfully straight arrow, she knew he would help her, regardless of his obvious disagreement with her choices. On the other hand, she knew the police must have gotten to him by now, and especially Dr. Sabian.

He would be the first to look for her; she knew he wasn’t done with her. Madalina feared that nobody would ever believe that the respected shrink would be serving more sinister ends, so she’d kept her therapy sessions secret… mostly. All she’d ever told Javier was the superficial stuff he’d requested her to report on, but she knew he could detect anomalies in her behavior, even if he never said anything outright.

I wonder if he knows? she thought as she stared at the steel tracks recessed between the concrete slabs of the platforms. If he knows more than he lead on… he’s smart enough to have seen what was really going on during my sessions, even when I denied it to myself. Her green eyes ran along the smooth edges of the tracks, following the double lines away from the station as far as she could until they turned into white fire in the glare of the declining sun. Madalina winced at the brightness in her eyes. Who knows how far I can follow these tracks, if I just keep going? I wish I could be like them — just meander and stretch — so that I could be in several places all at once. I would be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

T the moment there was no way to get hold of Javier that would not betray her position. She had dumped her cell phone that same night, regrettably, and any e-mail correspondence would be tracked, no doubt. The problem was that she had no friends. There was nobody who would run such an errand for her — play messenger to reach her brother — and Javier’s friends would very likely turn her in. Or would they?

“Come, Madi! Come, let’s go!” Raul shouted suddenly, roughly leaping from her lap to point out the oncoming train. “Let’s go see the castle!”

“Alright, I’m coming.” She smiled, picking up their bags to board the train.

“Hey, they are following us too,” he remarked, eagerly rushing to help her with his bag. Madalina smiled at his zest, but his words filled her with dread. A rush of adrenaline numbed her legs for a moment, and in her mind she envisioned her flight and her subsequent subjugation at the hands of the police. She dared ask, “Who is following us, Raul?”

Happily he pointed at the train tracks on the other side of the train car. “The tracks, look! On one side we follow them to find our way, and on that side,” he pointed behind the car, “they follow us.”

“Jesus, boy, my heart,” she mumbled in relief, and looked back at the signboard that identified her soon-to-be former sanctuary one last time.

Castillo.