THE MASTER OF BHAKTAPUR
The battered Toyota taxi deposited Robbie and Maria on the outskirts of Bhaktapur, the valley’s second city.
Maria stepped from the car into the morning sun, excited, bubbly and self-confident. Her black eyes reached deep into Robbie’s head when she hooked her arm into his and gazed up at him.
“This is my big day, maybe the most important day of my life. I am making my dreams come true. True, Robbie. Let’s go.”
They crossed a small bridge spanning the gray, shallow Hanumante River into the city.
Bhaktapur was the most perfectly preserved community in the valley. Robbie had visited for a day, vowed to come back and never made it. He turned briefly to see the mountains suspended above the valley, most of the peaks hidden by fluffy cloud patches. The alley ahead l
