CHAPTER 40
The next morning, as we were packing our gear, some villagers emerged from the jungle carrying a pair of wounded beasts, each tied to a pole.
“You saved my son,” explained Chaupi, “so we will repair your vehicles. We will send for new tires while you journey to the Lost City of the Dead.”
“Thanks, bro! Oh, what about the SUV?” asked Tommy.
“It was too wide for us to carry along the narrow paths,” said Chaupi. “Most unfortunate.”
Beck and I were still feeling like total heroes for saving Yacu’s life. And now we were getting our rides back! Plus, they’d given us those feathered necklaces, each one decorated with a golden medallion.
“The left leg, and the right leg,” Chaupi had told us when he draped the gold medals around our necks like we were Olympic champions. To be honest, the images carved in gold didn’t really resemble limbs. To me, they looked more like tiny tables or weird chess pieces with toes.
I wasn’t exactly sure why the village president wanted to give Beck and me an antique set of golden legs. Maybe because we’d kicked the flood’s butt. Or because we danced with danger. Something epic and leggish like that.
“The amulets you wear have been in our village for many centuries,” Chaupi told us.
“Inkarri!” mumbled one of the elders. “Inkarri!”
“What’s he saying?” asked Dad.
Chaupi smiled kindly at the old man. “Legend has it that Inkarri—or one of his most loyal followers—left the golden medallions here in our village for safekeeping. That he would come back and reclaim them after he rose from the dead.”
“Then we should give these back to you,” I said.
“Definitely,” added Beck. “We don’t want to upset a dead guy. Especially if he’s coming back.”
We both went to lift our nifty new lanyards over our heads.
Chaupi held up his hand. “No. They are my gift. May they protect you as you protected my son.”
“We’ll bring them back,” said Dad. “After we complete our quest.”
“We’ll trade ’em in for the ATVs!” I added.
Chaupi grinned. “Very well.”
His grin faded fast.
“But wear them this day as you venture deeper into the jungle. For you will need all possible protection as you approach the necropolis—the Lost City of the Dead.”
The way he said that?
Somebody should’ve added a spooky “Dun-dun-dun!”