Caquipilli felt the sickness rising in his belly, orange sparks from his circuit tattoos. He laid still on his back, spine flat, and closed his eyes, studying the problem with his fingertips. His mind floats down and deep into the waters of the lakes below.
His fingers followed the flow through the circuit, past the solar plexus, finally centering in the heart. A hard exhalation— he feels the water in his open chest cavity, sees a vision against blackness.
"There is one," Caquipilli answered at last, his lips wet.
"Don't look back," the voice replied. "Run straight down."
His eyes now open, the sickness gone, Caquipilli prepared himself for the fasting.