The Night of the Moon Serpent: First Passage to the World Beyond

By Amaia S. Li

Twelve-year-old David Luke is unhappy. He has been uprooted. He has to attend a new school, speak a different language and hopefully, make friends in his new home in Lima, Peru. Anna, his mother, could not have left him behind in America while she was to spend the next two years doing her fellowship at a Peruvian university. An encounter with the renown Dr. Máximo Rojas, director of the restoration project of the ruins of San Mateo, an ancient pyramid located a few blocks from David's new school, unleashes mysterious symptoms in David and threatens to bring his mother's carefully guarded secret into light. Soon, David and Anna will be drawn into the strange world of sorcerers or brujos and of the modern-day shamans, the curanderos.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amaia S. Li
• Release date: Nov 2, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310246012

Amaia S. Li

Amaia Li grew up in Lima, Peru. She currently lives in Honolulu, Hawaii where she practices being a weekend (writer) warrior.

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The Night of the Moon Serpent

First Passage to the World Beyond

By Amaia S. Li

Copyright © 2013 Amaia S. Li

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for purchasing this ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It remains the copyrighted property of the author. No part of this ebook may be used for commercial or non-commercial purposes nor it may be copied, reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the prior written permission of the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

Author's Note

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover by Vila Design

www.viladesign .net

Stock image of boy copyright Depositphotos.com/Rimma Zayteva

Photo of Mochica temple by Amaia S. Li

Dedication

To Nicholas,

Your wish was my inspiration

Prologue

The man lingered by the low mud-brick wall enclosing the plaza. The night mercifully had melted the concrete buildings and asphalt roads into one single dark mass so that the man gazing at it could fancy himself back in another time, when from the top of this same pyramid he could look upon green fields and to the sea beyond them.

One day it will be ours again, the woman said. She stood next to him, her hands busy braiding her long dark hair that fell past her waist. When he returns, it will be ours again, she said longingly.

Yes, the man answered, his black eyes taking her in. Her face was fierce and ageless. The tattoos on her arms seemed to shimmer faintly.

Will the boy do? she asked.

Perhaps.

When will you know?

Soon.

The time is almost near. He has waited long for this chance. We cannot fail him.

We won’t.

Chapter 1

This must be a mistake, Anna murmured to herself. Surely this could not be the farewell dinner party her colleagues at the university were giving her in honor of her winning a fellowship at the National University of San Pedro to research ancient Peruvian art. Anna Luke, MFA, and until a week ago, assistant professor at the East-West Pacific Gateway University, found herself in a tent decorated with colorful balloons and sitting at a table facing a stage. On that stage, two men were pulling bats out of a hat. As the bats flew high to the ceiling of the tent and people applauded, the oldest of the magicians climbed down the stage.

And now, he announced, we need a volunteer from the audience.

Many hands shot up, but he ignored them. Instead, he ambled among the tables until he stopped before hers. Anna picked up the napkin from her lap, ready to stand up and follow the magician to the stage. Instead, he motioned her to stay seated. He came closer, bent over her, then pulled a pencil flashlight out of his pocket and flashed it into her eyes.

Open wide, he said. Look at the light, no blinking.

Suddenly, Anna felt a puff of cold air blown into her eyes. The magician straightened himself and declared, You have far-seeing eyes.

As applause exploded around her, the tent, the balloons, the tables, all dissolved.

***

Anna was now walking down stone steps. The walls that surrounded her were made of carved rocks, too. The stair zigzagged its way to a bottom she could not see or fathom. She was not alone, though. There were kids climbing up and down, and adults, perhaps their parents, following them. Their steps echoed in this place, which was dimly lit, as if by candlelight. Anna peered a few heads forward and saw a boy, dark haired, his gait familiar.

David! Wait! she called out.

Her son did not hear her. He was now running down the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

David! To her horror, she saw him jumping three, then four, five, six steps at a time, and soon she noticed two fiery points of red on his back. Two red wings were sprouting between his shoulder blades.

Anna ran down the steps, trying to catch up with him. The next time he leapt, he disappeared into the darkness.

David! Anna cried, before she stumbled and felt herself hurtling into the shadows.

***

Anna woke up startled, as if by an electric shock. She was sweating. She climbed out of her bed and padded down the hall to the next room. She opened the door. Her gaze searched for the bed. Under the blanket, she found her son sleeping peacefully.

It was only a dream, she said to herself. Only a dream. Thank God.

Chapter 2

David Luke was on his bed, lying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling—one so different from the one he has grown up under for the past twelve years. The ceiling of their apartment in the States had been something that he couldn’t quite recall because it had been just another ceiling, generic white and blank. The one he was studying now was something else. It was high above his head, and covered with wooden tiles engraved with graceful interlacing curly patterns. However, there were many black gaps here and there where the tiles must have fallen off. This house, a two-storied building painted salmon red, was to be their home for the next two years of his mother’s fellowship with the National University of San Pedro.

David, his mother called. A moment later, Anna stuck her head in the doorway. Well, there you are. I need some help here, buddy–oh, David, you’d better get moving, she said, frowning at the mounds of clothes thrown carelessly on his bed, chair and desk, and at the half a dozen boxes still lying on the floor with their contents spilling out of them, and at the open suitcases and the assortment of books still waiting to be put in their places.

David dragged himself into a sitting position. Mom, can this wait? he asked yawning. He snapped his mouth closed as his mother gave him a withering look that clearly said, ‘No, it cannot wait!’

Come on, David, said Anna in a surprisingly soft tone that did not match the look she had given him a second ago. She sat on the bed. You know you’d better get going. In a couple of days you’ll be in school, and I’ll be at the university buried in paperwork, and that will not be the time to go looking for your socks.

David groaned at the mention of school.

David, we’ve talked already and you know that there was no way I was going to leave you behind.

Then why couldn’t you get a fellowship anywhere closer to home? California, Washington, instead of this, this... place!

We are not discussing this again, she said in that calm yet determined tone of voice that told him that when it came to her, the case was closed.

Anna stood up but before she could leave the room, David called softly, Mom. He looked at her. I don’t like it.

Anna was disarmed. She walked back and gave him a hug.

"I know. It’s as if somebody has pulled the floor from under your feet, isn’t it? It takes a bit of time to get used to all these changes and I promise, you— we, we will find our feet on solid ground again. Look at this place. Isn’t it grand?"

David looked about him, at the chipped paint on the walls and at the missing tile gaps on the ceiling. Mom, it’s just plain old! he exclaimed.

Anna laughed. Sir, you have no appreciation for architecture. She let go of him and started to fold the clothes on his bed. Do you know that this house was once a mansion, a colonial mansion? Sixteenth century. Can you imagine this place all bathed in candlelight, carriages and horses outside, piano music playing, perhaps? Maybe this was the room of the lord or the lady. It certainly wasn’t for the servants, not with that ceiling.

David jumped out of bed and following his mother's example, proceeded to pick up the books from the floor. No, he said. Why is it still standing? I mean, it’s old. No, it’s ancient. I would think people want something nicer, I mean, modern, with A/C, and all that?

New doesn’t mean nicer, Anna said. Besides, this is a piece of living history. It tells you of the people who came before you. This house is really old, way older than you think. I bet you didn’t know that this house is standing on what it used to be a temple.

Temple as in church? asked David, his curiosity piqued.

"No, temple as in a place where priests