As the blood of the sacrifice ran over her hands and puddled sticky warmth about her feet, she spread ribs with a swiftly practised motion and tore out the still-beating heart.
Casting the living flesh into the flames of the god’s fire she turned and faced the temple.
All eyes were on the small, naked figure as she raised her arms to the sky.
“Viracocha,” she cried.
Then the heavens went dark and the great mountain spewed smoke and ash and the molten lifeblood of the earth down into the valley from where the hidden enemy prepared to attack.