Perusina, Perusino, and Franz in Lamas

Franz found the secret under an overturned clay pot.

Not because he was looking. Franz was actually looking for a piece of baked banana that Perusino had supposedly put on a wall "just for a moment." But when the little Sechura fox bumped his nose against the pot, it quietly clicked underneath.

Perusina stopped. "Did you hear that?"

Perusino nodded. "If it makes food, it's my favorite sound."

Franz pushed the pot aside with both paws. Underneath lay a small clay amulet. It was round, warm from the ground, and had an engraved line that looked like a winding path.

They stood in Barrio Wayku in Lamas. Colorful clothes dried in front of the houses, someone was pounding clay somewhere, and music came from an alley. It smelled of earth, smoke, and rainforest.

Then a voice called out, "Don't touch!"

A girl ran out of a workshop. Her black hair flew behind her, her cheeks covered in clay dust. She grabbed for the amulet, but at that moment, a boy with a drum came around the corner, slipped on wet leaves, and crashed into a basket.

The basket tipped over. Three painted clay figures rolled away.

Perusino jumped after them. "I've got them!"

He didn't.

One figure rolled between his legs, the second against Franz, the third directly down a narrow staircase. Perusina dove, grabbed it at the last moment, and slid to a stop in front of an old woman who stood in a doorway with her arms crossed.

"The sign," the woman said softly.

Suddenly it was quiet.

The girl took the amulet from Perusina's hand. "It belongs to my grandmother. Today I was supposed to wear it at the festival. But someone hid it."

"Why?" asked Perusina.

The girl looked away. "Because I can't say the word for it."

Perusino blinked. "You can lose a word?"

The old woman stepped closer. "You can forget it. That's almost worse."

Franz sniffed the amulet. Then he sneezed. "Dust. Clay. And fear."

From the upper alley, a whistle sounded. A boy with a red ribbon waved wildly. "The dance is starting soon! Without the word, she can't go first!"

The girl turned pale.

Perusina turned the amulet in her hand. Something green was stuck in the crevice. Not moss. Paint.

"Whoever hid it had green paint on their fingers."

They ran.

Up through Wayku, past adobe houses, past women with clay pots, past children wearing feathers and ribbons. Lamas was terraced on the hillside, and every alley led either up, down, or into a jumble.

Franz was in front. His nose twitched like crazy.

"There!"

They turned into a courtyard. Freshly painted masks stood against a wall. Green paint dripped from a brush. Next to it sat a boy, trying to hide his hands behind his back.

Perusino pointed at him. "Very inconspicuous."

The boy jumped up and ran.

Franz followed.

The boy was fast. Franz was smaller. That was unfair to the boy.

Under a table. Over a pile of clay. Between two drummers. Franz shot like an orange flash in front of his feet. The boy stumbled and landed in the soft clay.

Splish.

Perusina stopped in front of him. "Why did you hide the amulet?"

The boy wiped clay from his face. "I didn't want her to go first."

"Why not?" asked Perusino.

"Because she doesn't know the word." He looked at the ground. "And neither do I. None of us dare to say the old words. If we say them wrong, others will laugh."

The old woman had followed them. She said nothing. She just took the amulet, held it out to the girl, and spoke a short Kichwa word.

The girl repeated it. Wrong at first. Then again. Better.

The boy looked up. "Can I too?"

The old woman nodded.

Then the drum started again. Slowly this time.

The girl stood in the square. The amulet hung from her chest. Next to her stood the boy, still covered in clay. Perusina listened carefully. Perusino tried to look dignified, although Franz had secretly pressed a green handprint on his trousers.

The old woman spoke the word.

The girl repeated it.

The boy did too.

Then the children around them.

The word traveled across the square, from mouth to mouth, until it no longer sounded small, but strong.

Franz sat down next to Perusina. "So the treasure was a word?"

Perusina nodded. "And it almost disappeared."

Perusino looked at his green trousers. "I think I've preserved something too."

"What?" asked Franz.

"Moving art."

Even the old woman laughed then.