Heat floods my cheeks.
“Lo siento,” I say. What was I thinking? It’s been a long time since we played as kids, protected by fortress walls, a long time since we stayed awake all night making up stories about the constellations. He knew my secret and called me by my real name behind closed doors. All the other boys thought I was just a maid, a helpmate to who theythoughtwas the condesa. My proximity to Ximena made me attractive to them, but I knew their attentions were as fickle as thunderstorms. Manuel was the steady ray of light that cut through the fog.
But the Manuel in front of me lost his sense of humor a long time ago. I can see it in the tight lines around his eyes, in the straight edge of his shoulders, straight enough to measure with. There’s only one thing I recognize: his protectiveness.
Always my guardian.
And here he is now, saving me again.
It must be my fever, the lack of sleep. The terror I’m trying to keep deep within me, buried with the rest of my secrets. The realization of how much I missed him. I’m such a fool.
“It’s fine,” he says gruffly. “I’m starting. Don’t …” He clears his throat. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”
Don’t kiss me again.That’s what he means.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “All right.”
He climbs with me clutching at him like a baby monkey. It’s slow going, but he’s sure-footed, as if he’s made this climb many times before. I open my eyes and peer over my shoulder when we’re about halfway up. I’m not afraid of heights, but the view is terrifying. The canopy of trees looks like tiny shrubs meant for a doll’s house. Broccoli tops on cinnamon sticks.
The wind is our constant companion, and with every gust, I cringe. If Manuel were to slip … I try not to think about it. His skin is clammy with sweat. Under the leather vest, the muscles in his back move as he continues the climb. I try not to breathe too heavily. I try to remain still. Manuel groans softly under his breath as he heaves us upward, inch by inch, groove by groove.
We reach the ledge of the cave.
“Catalina,” he says, in between huffs. “You need to climb in first. Do you see the coiled vine near the edge?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t say anything else in order to conserve his strength.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper. “What if I make us fall?”
“Do it. Ahora, por favor.”
My body is trembling, but so is his, from exertion and wariness. I can’t burden him further. I reach for the vine, drawing it closer. It scratches against the hard rock.
Manuel reaches for the vine, wrapping it around his wrist. His arm is faintly vibrating.
“Go. Anda,” he says, his voice rough, as if it’s been scraped against rocks. “Rápido, rápido.”
I haul myself up and over him. My knees scrape against the rock, and once I’m crawling on the ledge, he lets out a sigh of relief. He heaves himself over the ledge, and collapses next to me, legs dangling out of the cave entrance.
I poke his shoulder. Manuel grunts, and the noise startles a laugh out of me. He turns his head, his eyes crinkling with amusement, a soft almost-smile on his lips.
My breath catches. Like his mother, he rarely smiles.
“You did it,” I say. “I don’t know how you did it, but you did it.”
He climbed a vertical slab of granite, without a rope, and with me on his back. He’s kind of amazing. And unrecognizable. The soft boy I remember no longer exists.
Manuel nods as he half drags, half crawls away from the edge. I stare out into the night, the shreds of my pant legs whipping in the breeze. My vision darkens, making everything seem as if it’s touched by shadows. He grabs me by the crook of my elbow and pulls me farther into the cave.
It’s narrow, with no room overhead to stand upright. There’s a single bedroll, along with a small pack—I recognize it as the one he’d left the Illustrian keep with. A pair of stone bowls are stacked against the curved wall, next to a pile of avocados, oranges, and figs. As hungry as I am, I can’t make myself reach for the food.
“Why were you limping?”
I blink at him. “Was I?”
“I’ve never seen you this way,” he says softly. “What’s happened to you?”
