“There’s a ladder carved into the wall. I think we’re meant to climb down.” He leans farther, his gaze narrowed. My heart hammers against my ribs.
Loud screeching destroys the quiet.
Manuel drops to the ground as a blur of wings flies out from within the hole. I scream. My knees give way, and I stumble to the floor. The bats swarm above my head, thundering loud, as I crawl toward Manuel. I reach the edge of the hole and gasp. There’s no light at the end. I can’t possibly go down there. A bat swoops to my level and tangles in my hair. Manuel yanks it free, and I wince. Then he places his feet over the edge and onto the first step. Another creature lands on my shoulder, claws piercing my tunic, sinking into my skin. I rip the creature away, and my clothing tears.
Manuel disappears below and I follow him, my body shaking. I lower each foot, trusting there will be another rung, another groove. The stone is cold under my fingertips. We sink lower and lower, the bats shrieking and circling above. I glance over my shoulder and down toward Manuel.
He looks up, his eyes glowing. “¿Estás bien?”
I don’t know how to answer that question. Fatigue is a constant thrum deep under my skin. I can’t speak anyway—terror locks my jaw tight. He seems to understand and resumes moving. Our breaths collide in the narrow tunnel, tangling as they hit the jagged stone. Manuel makes a huffing noise of surprise.
“There’re no more steps,” he says. “I’m going to let go—”
“No!” I cry. “What if—”
“Condesa,” he says firmly. “I’ll call out if it’s safe.”
I catch the moment he loosens his fingers. Wordlessly, he disappears into the dark. There’s a splash and then silence. “Manuel? Manuel!”
“I’m all right!”
My shoulders sag, and I press against the rock. I lower myself to the last available slot, and hesitate.
“It’s all right,” he says. “You can let go. I’ve got you.”
My arms shake. Another opportunity for me to drown. I can’t seem to escape the water in this damn jungle.
“Come on!” he yells. “You can do this.”
I let go. The wind tears into my hair as I hit the water. It’s freezing and it slashes my skin. I come up sputtering. Manuel swims to me, wraps his arms around my shoulders. Then he guides us forward; I can feel his legs kicking near mine. I help him by treading water, imitating his free hand. He glances around, his dark eyes glimmering, providing the only source of light. All around us are craggy walls, uneven and bumpy. The smell reminds me of mushrooms drenched by a thunderstorm.
“No entiendo,” I say, my teeth chattering. “Where can we go?”
He leads me to a protruding ledge big enough to hold on to. I reach out with both hands and cling to it for dear life. Then Manuel drags in a big sip of air before sinking below. For a terrible moment I’m alone in this space. Only the sounds of my breathing interrupt the soft water lapping against the rock. It’s pitch black without Manuel’s Moonsight. And then he breaks the surface.
“Anything?”
Manuel shakes his head, inhales again, and disappears. He does this three more times before finally finding something. “There’s a tunnel—but I don’t know where it leads or if there’s anything on the other side. I can go—” He stops, his lips twisting. “I can go, but I might run out of air looking.”
I reach for his arm, wrap my hands around his wrist, and tug him nearer. He lets me close the distance between us. “You can’t risk it.”
He tilts his head back, and I follow his gaze. Our drop came from directly above us, about twenty feet. There’s no way we can climb back up.
“No,” I moan. “What if you drown?”
He doesn’t say anything. We both know this is our only option, and I hate it. Because if he doesn’t come back, the only available thing for me to do is tread water until I can’t stand the dark anymore. My breath hitches in my throat.
“There’s a way out of here,” Manuel whispers. “I feel it in my bones.”
I’m not ready for him to go.
I can only stare at his face. Grim and decided. He’s as serious as I’ve ever seen him. He’s only waiting to give me time to get used to the idea of him not coming back. Of him dying. I clench my eyes.
They fly open when I feel his rough palm against my cheek. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Manuel.” I lick my lips, and suddenly I can’t speak anymore, even though there’re so many things I want to say to him. But those words remain deep in my heart, afraid to make their journey out into the open where anyone can hear. “I’m thankful for you,” I say finally, and while I mean every word, disappointment lances my body. I want to tell him how I really feel. But I also need to respect his choice, even as it kills me. Because the way he’s looking at me now, with his hand against my cheek, is incredibly tender and almost beckoning me to reveal my secret.
“Shhh,” he says. “This isn’t goodbye.”
