“It was a holy thing to the Chavin,” says Mulroney, panting, “to keep the god in darkness. It was a holy act to see him, right?”

“‘Who touched me?'” Chien quotes. “‘I felt power go out of me.'”

“Right.” Mulroney grins. “Except they disappeared around 200 BC. Left some ruins, textiles and metallurgy.”

“They died out.” Chien shrugs.

“Nope,” says Mulroney. “I figure they took their toys and walked–here we go–”

Out of the pass: the valley is filled with stone beehives, like the natives never built. Chien realizes he’s gaping.

“Up here,” wheezes Mulroney, “to where the nighttime lasts.”