Lorinda shook her head. “No-good friends of Antón and Celeste probably,” she returned. “Recruits from the slums of Riverview.”
On the altar were many objects, a basket of bread, a basin of cooked fish, a carved wooden serpent and a wreath of feathers. A kettle contained a brew from which the dancers at intervals dipped with a gourd cup and drank.
Outside the cave, the wind howled an accompaniment to the wild ceremony, covering the shrill shrieks and savage laughter.
“We’ve seen enough of this!” whispered Penny. “Let’s get the police and break it up!”
“All right,” agreed Lorinda. “I hate to turn Antón and Celeste over to the authorities, but I’m convinced now they have reverted to heathen ways, and may even be responsible for Mother’s sickness.”
They started to retreat, making no sound. In the darkness Lorinda stumbled over a small rock. She made no outcry as she saved herself from a fall, but her shoes scuffed noisily and her body thudded heavily against the wall.
Instantly the Zudi drum ceased its rhythm. “What was that?” they heard Celeste ask sharply.
The girls huddled against the wall. An instant later, Antón, a torch in his hand, peered down the tunnel.
His cry told the girls they had been seen. In panic, they started down the passageway with Antón in hot pursuit. And close at his heels came Celeste and her followers.
Escape was impossible. Before the girls had gone a half dozen yards they were overtaken. Though they struggled to free themselves, Antón’s grasp was like a steel bracelet upon their arms. They were half dragged back to the cave.