The Condor Stone

     The girl attendant had almost reached the smooth knob of rock which held the lifeline.  She glanced back at the entrance, there was no one in sight.  She looked down at her quarry, they were absolutely intent on the task in hand.  She edged closer to the worn belay.  The knob was smooth from long use and was safe only when the pull on it was downwards.  One swift heave would be all that was required.

     Down at the pool side, Illa looked back at the old headman as if to say "Well, what now?"

     He threw some more bait onto the water and produced the knife.  The gems in its handle sparkled and the blade gleamed dully.  No sunlight ever penetrated this far, the surrounding walls were vertical.

     "Can you use this?"  He asked uncertainly.

     Illa took the ceremonial knife and awkwardly tested the point and the blade.  Neither was very sharp.  She weighed it in her hand, it was very heavy.

     "I have never stabbed anything in my life" she wailed, "I do not know how to or where to hit the fish's body."

     On the path above, the attendant crouched down and slid her body under the taught twin ropes securing the two at the pool.  All she had to do was to stand up and her shoulders would pick the two strands off the life-preserving belay.

     Further eruptions showed that the fish had returned to take the bait in increasing numbers.  They both leant out over the water, all their combined weight supported by the lifeline.  The treacherous girl heaved herself upright with all her strength.  The rope slid easily over the knob.  With nothing to restrain him, the old headman pitched straight into the black, swirling water.

     Illa was standing almost upright.  Almost, but not quite.  She screamed in terror, wobbled perilously, then agonisingly slowly, arms and legs flailing, she also toppled into the seething whirlpool after her hapless guardian.

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