Curse of the Condor Read Free

him, and the chief with the headdress helped him to his feet. Conrado’s knees shook and his teeth chattered. He didn’t understand what was happening.
    Then the chief talked to him in the tribal language Conrado’s father knew well. Conrado didn’t understand much of it, but he did understand he wasn’t to be killed after all. The chief motioned for one of his warriors to come forward. The warrior hoisted Conrado up to his shoulder, and the chief pointed to him and shouted out what sounded like El Condor. Then they all chanted this name and pointed to Conrado.
    The chief continued with something that sounded like prophecy, and suddenly it was clear to Conrado why he was being revered instead of killed. They thought he was the boy sent by the condor. The boy of the prophecy said to be able to save them. He might be safe for now, but what would happen when they found he wasn’t who they thought he was?
    Conrado felt his body weaken and the world go black before him. And the last thing he remembered was seeing the condor following him through the sky.

 
    Chapter 1
     
     
    Fifteen  years later
     
    Conrado Nievez pulled his hat lower upon his head as he made his way through the streets of Iquitos, Peru. He felt the shadow of the condor falling upon him and didn't need to look up to know it sat in a dead tree directly above his head.
    El Condor was the name he'd been given by the Jivaro tribe who raised him from a child in the jungle. Though he was born a mestizo, of both Peruvian and American blood, he felt he had the Jivaro blood running through his veins. The condor following him around somehow proved it.
    It had been three months now since he'd set foot outside the density of the rain forest and come for supplies. He'd lived in hell and as a loner these past few months, just him and the demons in his head haunting him for what he'd done. That is, the demons and the bird of the dead that kept showing up every time there was going to be trouble. The Jivaro respected and revered the bird, but Conrado only considered it a curse.
    He wasn’t in a hurry to have anyone recognize him. After all, he was a wanted man now. He figured if the authorities couldn't find him, it'd prolong his life long enough to allow him to figure out just what happened the night his friend, Ryder Fitzgerald, died from a wound caused by the poisoned dart of a blowgun.
    His blowgun.
    The blowgun the missionaries had found still in Conrado’s tight grip when he awoke to find his best friend dead.
    He'd seen the condor earlier that terrible day, circling above their heads as he guided Ryder and two other missionaries down the waters of the Amazon on their way to the Jivaro camp. He never should have let Ryder convince him to take them into Jivaro territory. The Jivaro didn't have much contact with the outside world, and he should have just left it that way.
    He should have known better than to take a gringo into such dangerous lands. He'd been warned by the condor in his dreams not to get involved with Ryder's mission, but yet he ignored it at the pleas of his friend, and instead served as guide and mentor.
    He drank more chicha than he should have that night, and argued with Ryder. He cursed himself for falling into a drunken stupor before he resolved the issue. And when he awoke to find his dart in Ryder's neck and the blowgun still in his own hand, he knew the condor had been delivering a message.
    The bird of death. That’s the way Conrado saw it.
    Conrado pushed the memories from his head as he felt a shiver run the course of his body. He looked up and saw the condor spread its wings in flight, circling once above his head before heading off for the highlands where it belonged. This meant trouble, and Conrado only wanted to get far away from the village before he was involved. The boys he'd hired to load his boat should be finished by now. He couldn't wait to get aboard and disappear into the jungle where he was safe. Safe from the