The Ugly One by Leanne Statland Ellis

wondered this before. “I’m not certain. I think it must have called to me.”
    â€œIt’s good that you have it. You will need its strength,” the shaman said, and then his gaze fixed itself once again upon some faraway point. His eyes became distant, like secrets carved in stone.
    I wanted to ask if I would need the strength of the
huaca
because the Paqo would be leaving soon. Were the people going to drive him away? Did he know this already? And I wondered, if he had truly been a mighty shaman in the capital city of Cuzco, why had he left there to come to our small, unimportant
llaqta
? Had he done something terrible? I needed him here with me. What would I do if he left? These questions lurked in my throat, but I remained quiet as I sat next to my teacher. As long as I didn’t ask them, I didn’t have to act on the answers.
    ***
    It was as I sat on my rush mat, eating the meager evening meal with my family, that I gathered the courage to place my questions into the air for others to hear. “I’ve been told that the people blame the Paqo for the lack of rains,” I said, forcing my voice to be clear and steady. “I’ve heard they want to drive him out of the village. Is this true?”
    Mama, Papa, and Chasca went still, their spoons frozen in midair. Only the steam from the quwi stew continued to move lazily upward, as if nothing unusual had just happened. Without them saying a word, I knew it was true. Ucho had been right.
    The silence became awkward. Father cleared his throat, and I could see he was about to rattle off some nonsense. Chasca leaned toward me and spoke first. She put her hand softly on mine and smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, Micay. They are too scared of the shaman to actually do it.”
    I nodded at my sister, and my family continued with the meal, trying to pretend all was well when it was not. I wondered,
How long will it be before the people’s fear of hunger overpowers their fear of my teacher?

14
Capac Raymi
Magnificent Festival
    T HREE worlds dwell within the night sky,” the Paqo said as he pointed toward the stars flickering their small, icy fires. We were lying on the ground studying the countless twinkling daughters of Inti and Mama Killa on this most important of nights, Capac Raymi. It was the shortest night of the year, the only night when, for one breathless moment at dawn, the barriers between this world and the spirit world were bridged.
    â€œThere is the below world, the land of the past and our ancestors, home of the ground-dwelling fox, the toad, and the mighty serpent.” The Paqo pointed low in the black cloth of the night sky, and there, in the pattern of the stars, were the ground animals. He continued. “Just above is this world, the place of now, the dwelling of the plants, the people, and the fierce jaguar.” Here he pointed to midsky and the stars outlining the jaguar ready to pounce. “And higher yet is the upper world, the future, home of the sky spirits, the rainbow, lightning, stars, sun, moon, and condor.” He pointed to the stars in the uppermost sky, drawing the shape of the condor in flight with his fingers.
    The Paqo sat up, and I did the same. “Each animal has its own message, its own meaning,” he said. “The serpent below, the jaguar in the middle, and the condor above, one sitting atop the other. And all three worlds are connected through the spiral.” With his finger, he made a rising spiral in the night air. His voice was quiet and solemn as he asked, “But what else is there, New Voice, aside from the spiral, aside from these worlds?”
    Like most people, I knew of the three worlds and the spiral connecting them. But I had not heard of anything else. “There is more?” I asked in surprise.
    The Paqo chuckled. “New Voice, where is it you seek to be?”
    I sought to be where I was, studying the stars with my teacher. There was nowhere I