RETURNING to Itza and the prince--who were vastly relieved at seeing me alive and unharmed--I plied Azcopil with questions. But he could give me little intelligible information. The light that came at night was a gift of the gods, he declared; it had always been so; but the light from the temples, the bridge of light--only the high priest knew their secrets. And, he added, hesitantly and with furtive glances, the priest knew other secrets; he possessed powers unknown to all others. “Aye, even power over the Monster of Sacrifices,” put in Itza, in affrighted tones. “Monster of Sacrifices?” I reiterated. “Who or what, my beloved, is this monster of whom you speak?” “I cannot say, my lord,” she replied. “Only Kinchi Haman may see the monster; for others it is death to look upon him. And each month a maiden or a youth must be sacrificed unto him.” “Hmm,” I muttered, “I must look into this. There is no monster that the son of Kukulcan may not look upon.” It sounded to me like the old Minotaur myth. I wondered what the old faker had up his sleeve. “And where does this monster dwell?” I asked. “Within the sacred innermost temple,” replied Azcopil, “where no one but the priest may enter.” “The son of Kukulcan may enter all places,” I declared. “I shall look upon him and shall destroy him. The law of Kukulcan forbids the sacrifice of human lives.” The faces of Itza and the prince paled. “But, my lord!” exclaimed Azcopil, “though it is a monster, yet it is a god and cannot be destroyed.” I laughed. “God or no god, yet I shall destroy it,” I assured him. For a space the prince was lost in thought. Then: “My lord,” he said earnestly, “until now I have not spoken of it. But the words of my lord force me to speak. We, of the House of Nima Kiche, in the long ago, had given unto us a prophecy. From the lips of my father, Tutil Nima, I heard it, even as he heard it from the lips of his father, Xima Tutil, and as each eldest son has heard it from his father since the days when it was given unto our house.