“Told you you’d be all right,” Caio said with a grin.
For a while, the exhilaration held. The wind, the speed, the sheer novelty of it all chased away the fear and uncertainty. I lost myself in the moment, imagining what it would be like to live like this, to trade the quiet currents of the river for the open road. But the illusion shattered as the trees thinned, revealing the outskirts of Leticia.
Houses were crowded together, their brightly colored walls held a different beauty compared to the deep green of the jungle. The air grew thick with the smells of acrid smoke and cooking fires, a jarring assault on my senses. A knot of unease tightened in my stomach. This wasn’t freedom but a cage of a different kind.
Caio’s easy grin vanished. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his gaze darting to the rearview mirror, then back to the road. He took a sharp left, then a quick right, weaving through the streets in a seemingly random pattern.
The sudden change in his demeanor, the urgency in his movements, sent a shiver of alarm down my spine. Something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice tight with anxiety.
“Nothing,” he said, his voice strained, his eyes flickering to the mirror above his head. “Just… taking a shortcut.”
After a few more turns, he seemed to relax. “We’re here.”
The Jeep rolled to a stop in front of a large, imposing building highlighted by the late afternoon sun. Caio jumped out and hurried around to open my door before I could even figure out how the handle worked.
My legs wobbled as I stepped onto the solid ground. He steadied me, his arm warm around my waist. I leaned into him, drawing strength from his touch.
“The museum is just over there,” he said, indicating to a building that seemed surprisingly small, almost swallowed by the lush vegetation surrounding it. Its brightly painted walls caused the shadows that clung to the edges of the clearing to deepen.
He took my hand, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. As we walked toward the entrance, a flicker of movement at the edge of my vision caught my attention. A rustle in the nearby trees seemed too deliberate, too aware.
I glanced over my shoulder, scanning the dense foliage, but saw nothing. Just dappled sunlight and shifting shadows. Yet, the feeling persisted, a prickling on the back of my neck, a whisper in the wind that spoke of unseen eyes.
My gaze was drawn to theSeolais, resting against Caio’s chest. The dark wood stood out against his shirt, a target. It was calling to me, in a pulsing silent alarm, a vibration that resonated with the prickling on my neck.
A fierce, protective urge surged through me—a need to reclaim it, hide it, and put it back where it belonged. It was a piece of my world, exposed and vulnerable on his human skin. But the image of my sister, her breathing shallow, her light fading, pushed the feeling down. The pendant was a piece of the past, Inaiá was my future, and the flower was the only thing that mattered.
My gaze lingered on the museum, its cheerful façade a jarring counterpoint to the shadows that danced at the periphery of my vision. I could feel Caio’s hand in mine, warm and reassuring, yet the queen’s warning echoed in my mind, a discordant note in the symphony of my conflicting emotions.
I longed for the connection I felt with him, a connection that thrilled and terrified me. And beneath it all, a chilling fear of the consequences and the unknown dangers that lurked just beneath the surface of this strange, new world.
The rustle in the trees intensified, closer now, no longer a whisper but a distinct slithering sound. I tightened my grip on Caio’s hand, my breath catching in my throat. He glanced at me, his brow furrowed with concern.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice low.
I shook my head, unable to articulate the growing sense of dread that coiled in my stomach. “I don’t know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. “But something’s… watching us.”
The air grew heavy. The museum’s cheerful colors mocked me. Shadows stretched out like grasping fingers. The pendant burned, a reminder of my world reaching out, claiming me. I felt the pull urging me back to the river. But Caio’s hand anchored me to him, to this world. Fear warred with desperate hope. Could I bridge these two worlds? Reconcile my conflicting desires?
A blur of motion erupted from the shadows.
One moment, the path was empty. The next, a figure lunged at Caio, reaching for his neck, for theSeolaispendant.
A guttural growl ripped from my throat, a sound I didn’t recognize as my own. The world seemed to slow, the humid air thickening into a viscous fluid. My Encantado reflexes, honed over centuries, took over.
Before I could even think, my free hand shot out, deflecting the attacker’s grasp with a sharp, stinging blow. He stumbled back, a startled cry escaping his lips, and I followed through, my body moving with a speed and power I hadn’t realized I possessed.
A swift kick sent him sprawling onto the hard ground, the air whooshing from his lungs. The world snapped back into focus—the sounds of the forest, the rustling leaves, the chirping insects—returned in a rush. I stood over him, my chest heaving. Caio stood beside me, his hand still gripping mine, his eyes wide with shock.
The attacker, a wiry man with a thin, scraggly beard, lay gasping on the ground, his eyes fixed on me with a mixture of fear and disbelief. The shadows seemed to retreat, shrinking back into the undergrowth, but the sense of unease remained, a heavy weight in the humid air.
Before I could react further, Caio moved. He released my hand and quickly pinned the man to the ground, his knee pressing into the attacker’s chest.
“Who sent you?” Caio demanded, his voice sharp and cold, a tone I had never heard from him before. “What do you want with her?”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man stammered, his eyes darting wildly between us. “It was just a robbery.”
