“Today I’m not,” I admit softly. “But when I need to be ready, I will be.”
He nods, satisfied. “I will be with you when the time comes.”
My lips part. I want to reach out and smooth the lines across his brow. This is why I care about him: his noble heart that beats to keep me safe. I know it’s his job; I know it’s a result of Ana’s long training and his desire to make his mother proud. But he’s here for me when no one else is, and that counts more than anything.
We take turns devouring the fish, enjoying having something warm fill our bellies. When we’re done, I stuff the pan back into his bag while he smothers the fire. We crawl under the massive broad-leaf plants of our shelter and settle into the hammock. All that protects us from an attack are flimsy leaves and a sheer netting, and yet that feeling of safety returns.
Darkness blankets the both of us, shrouding good intentions and conversation topics better left ignored. I haven’t been able to shake the loneliness I heard in Manuel’s voice when he talked about his constant traveling. I knew he’d gone out for a mission; I learned all about it after the fact. Ana was always planning on sending someone to every corner of Inkasisa to secure allies. Not once did I think Manuel would volunteer for the mission.
“You kissed me,” I say softly. “And then you left for three years, and I never once got a letter from you. I didn’t even get a goodbye.Why?”
He sits up abruptly, and the hammock swings wide. “I’m going to sleep out there.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Am I so awful that you’d prefer to risk the jungle?”
“No,” he says. “No.You’re not awful. You’re—” There’s a long, drawn-out pause, and then he loudly exhales and all of his words come out in a rush. “Catalina”—I startle at the use of my name—“I messed up. Inevershould have kissed you, never should have spent time with you the way that I did. I’m a guard, you’re my sovereign. So please drop the subject. Don’t look for something that isn’t there. Nothing can ever happen between us.” He leans forward, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I need you to respect my wishes. Can you do that?”
It’s in that moment I realize how much hope I’d had for him and me. I’d clung to it for three years, that elusive wisp of hope, and with his words, it fades into the nothing it always was.
“You should have said goodbye.”
He sighs. “You’re right, I ought to have. But I didn’t trust myself. I’m sorry, Catalina. For all of it. Can we proceed as …” He breaks off, clearly uncertain what label to use.
“Friends?” I ask dryly.
He hesitates and I nudge his knee. “That feels too familiar—”
“Manuel,compromiseis a delightful word. I think you ought to get better acquainted with it.”
And for the first time since I’ve laid eyes on him in this awful place, he laughs. “Yes, all right. Friends.”
We settle into a silence that almost feels companionable, even as disappointment clings to every corner of my heart. Even the hidden parts. I want him to be more than just my friend, more than just my guard. But his feelings have clearly changed in the three years we’ve been apart. I need to respect his wishes and somehow convince my heart to move on. The only thought that remotely cheers me is his willingness to be friends.
And friends aren’t afraid to apologize to each other.
CAPÍTULO
Once
By the next afternoon, we’re still hopelessly, frustratingly lost. We snake deeper into the jungle, plucking mangoes and avocados, peeling and eating them as we walk beneath the tangled green arches. Every time there’s a clearing among the treetops, Manuel looks for the hill with the dip in the middle, but we never find that particular landmark again. Instead we pass by a myriad of stone pillars nearly swallowed up by thick vines and roots.
Manuel never loses the tightness in his shoulders. While the hand gripping the handle of his machete is steady, the skin around his knuckles is white.
“You’re worried,” I say, breaking his rule of silence. We haven’t seen any Illari in what feels like days, haven’t encountered anything enormous with teeth either. He’s killed a few snakes, pointed out tarantulas as big as my palm, but other than that, the jungle has been quiet. Eerily so.
He must agree with me, because he replies, though it’s barely a whisper, “I’d prefer it if we knew where we were going.”
At all times, I walk behind Manuel as he clears a way forward, that great weapon of his swinging. He doesn’t turn to face me, but I can hear his frustration all the same. “That’s not the only thing bothering you,” I say.
Manuel is quiet for a long moment. Just when I think the conversation is over, he slows down enough for me to catch up. “You’re right,” he admits. “I’ve traveled deep into the jungle and always,always, I’ve encountered the Illari. I’ve run from them, fought them, and hidden under their noses. But we haven’t seen any since the caimán.”
It seems like a blessing to me. “And why is that a bad thing?”
“It must mean there’s a greater threat. I’ve said it’d be wise to fear what the Illari fear … and the longer we’re lost, the more chance we have of stumbling upon this evil.”
His words are scary, or they ought to be. While I certainly don’t want to run headfirst into what’s confounding the Illari, a small part of me appreciates that Manuel is finally confiding in me. Talking to me as if I weren’t his charge but a regular traveling companion. “What do we do then?”
Manuel rolls back his shoulders. “We keep walking. To stay still in this place means courting death.” He shoots me a quick look. “I’m frightening you, aren’t I?”
