Free The Ugly One by Leanne Statland Ellis

handed Chuguillanto the wooden staff, saying it had been his favorite and she should take it as a way to remember him. Chuguillanto thanked the mother and, clutching the staff to her chest, walked back to the convent with her companion. The guards allowed the staff inside, for it wasn’t concealed and was the property of a dead man who could be no threat.
    â€œThat night, Chuguillanto placed the wooden staff in her room and began sobbing. As the tears flowed down her cheeks and landed on the staff, it began to tremble and transform right before her eyes. Suddenly, kneeling before her was her beloved herdsman! The two embraced with much joy, and Acoynapa explained about the magic powers of the staff.
    â€œIt was in this way that the two lived together in the most heavily guarded convent in the empire without being discovered. By day, Acoynapa hid himself in the staff, and Chuguillanto would walk about holding the stick close to her. At night, once they were safe within the walls of her room, he would transform into his human self.
    â€œBut, as is always the way, these good times did not last. Famine and plague struck the empire. The dead outnumbered the living, and there weren’t enough hands to bury the bodies piling up in the roads.”
    Uncle Turu clutched his belly in hunger. He mopped his brow in fever and held his head in agony.
    â€œThe Sapa Inca consulted his wise men and was told it was time for a human sacrifice. This was to be Chuguillanto’s moment. Her death would be painless. Filled with the magic of the
koka
leaves and aca, she wouldn’t feel the fingers wrapped around her throat to stop her breath forever. She would be a messenger to Inti and dwell with him forever as a representative of her people. There was no greater glory.
    â€œBut Chuguillanto knew she was an impure sacrifice, for her heart belonged to Acoynapa. The entire empire would suffer if she was offered to the Sun God, and the Sapa Inca would be cursed. Ignorance was no excuse. She couldn’t allow herself to be sacrificed, but to confess would lead to her death and that of her beloved. What could she do? She and Acoynapa devised a hasty plan. In the middle of the night, they fled to the east, hoping to be taken in by the people of the jungle.
    â€œBut their escape was not meant to be. The gods themselves intervened. As the two were about to reach the jungle, they were turned into stone pillars, one on either side of the road. Neither in the empire nor in freedom, neither together nor apart, they stand for eternity for all to see.”
    Uncle Turu held up his hands in a question. “Did the gods do this in honor of the great love shared by Chuguillanto and Acoynapa, or as a punishment because they broke the laws of the empire? No one is certain. So it was and ever shall be.”
    The people repeated, “So it was and ever shall be.”
    â€œThey were turned to stone in glory!” someone yelled.
    â€œNo! The gods did it because they were insulted!” another responded. Immediately, the debating began, but it was all in good nature. Chasca and I smiled at each other. We had our own disagreement about Chuguillanto.
    â€œShe was a fool,” I whispered. Chuguillanto could have been sacrificed to Inti, could have spent eternity in his constant presence. She gave this up for a mere llama herder. Chasca knew my arguments. I did not need to repeat them.
    My sister answered, “She was courageous in life and lucky to be in love.” Here was one of our greatest differences. Chasca preferred a man. I would choose no less than the Sun God himself if I could. I traced my jagged scar lightly with the back of my fingers. The faraway jungle was closer to me than Chuguillanto’s unblemished beauty.
    Chasca seemed to know my thoughts. “Come,” she said. “Let’s dance the
aymaran
.” My sister especially enjoyed this ancient dance because of its fast spinning. Several other women