Dieciséis
We set off early in the morning as the sun rises over the verdant-green canopy, setting golden fire to each leaf. The woman spends a few minutes staring at the first rays of dawn, and I get the sense that she’s greeting the sun god. Inti wakes up slow and steady and warms everything within his reach. He’s a deity I thought only the Llacsans worshiped—but it seems the Illari are a trifle cavalier with their affections, loving the earth and the sun and the moon, too.
It feels wrong.
Greedy, almost, to want blessings from all three of them. My thoughts tumble in my mind, tangling like unruly vines, poking holes in my thoughts. Because even if I think it’s wrong, it clearlyisn’t.Luna favors the Illari tracker. Has shone down upon her, communicated with her, and blessed her with an extraordinary gift.
But not me. My magic barely works. And it bothers me, profoundly and deeply.
What’s wrong with me, that I can’t be trusted with more?
Our guide turns away from the water and gathers her things. I do the same, shoving everything back into my pack. Manuel hands me another bamboo cup.
“You’re not drinking enough water.”
“I’m not doing enough of anything,” I mutter.
His brows rise at my mulish tone. “Sleep well?”
“Terrible. You?”
He shoots the woman a quick look before returning his attention to me, and I’m astounded to find his smile is rather sheepish. “Last night was the first night I slept soundly since arriving. With her close, I knew I could depend on her to wake me if there was any trouble.”
My face falls. He can’t let down his guard while with me—not even to sleep well. I’m that much of a burden. A tremendous weight on his shoulders.
Manuel studies me. “Condesa.”
“It’s Catalina,” I say flatly. “I thought we’d moved past the title.”
He gives me a look that’s mired in exasperation. “What’s bothering you?”
I can’t begin to answer that question. There’s so much my heart is carrying—hopes and dreams for my people, fed by an unquestionable thirst to prove myself. My fear of failure grows heavier every day, weighing me down and wanting to fold me into the hard earth. “Everything feels heavy, Manuel. We don’t need to talk about it; I know we have to keep moving.”
I turn away—but in a flash, he reaches for my arm and tugs me toward him. Before I know what’s happening, he wraps both arms around me and holds on tightly. “You didn’t think you could swim, but you did. You’ve walked miles, climbed a cliff, and slept in a cave. It was your wits and resourcefulness that got us out of the temple. You may not think you’re a survivor, Catalina, but I do.” And then he presses a soft kiss high on my temple, near the hairline. It happens so fast, in the space of a blink.
He releases me and averts his gaze, suddenly shy, and it’s a good thing too, because I have to pick my jaw up off the ground. A hopeful flutter sweeps through my body, from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes. The warmth of his embrace clings to my skin. I shiver, trying to hold on to the sensation.
I’m still standing in the same spot, my fingertips grazing the place where he’dkissed me, and as he brushes past, for a moment I swear, Iswear, I catch sight of an amused glint in his dark eyes. I shake my head, trying to remember where I am, what my name is, and what my age is. If someone asked me any of those questions, I wouldn’t be able to answer. Not even if my life depended on it. I hoist my pack higher up on my hip and hurry after Manuel and our guide, my heart thrashing against my ribs.
She’s up ahead with her jaguar, leading us again, taking us farther away from the jungle border, even though the way out is long gone by now. I ought to be glad that we have a guide to Paititi, but last night changed things for me, and I can’t help feeling that I’m walking into something I couldn’t have anticipated or planned for.
Who am I kidding?
I hadn’t planned for any of this. Not my exile or seeing Manuel again after three years or looking for the lost city. I hadn’t planned on my best friend betraying me, or discovering how useless I am outside of the Illustrian fortress. It’s a painful truth that sits heavily on my shoulders, so immense that I’m sure I’ll fall over from the weight.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice clearing the tree line and almost walk right over a cliff. Manuel snatches my pack and yanks me away from the edge.
“That would have been tragic,” I say, and laugh.
He’s not amused. “Quite.”
Down below is a wide river, roaring thunderously, and on the opposite side is another jagged cliff, at a lower height than ours. It’s covered in trees and thick vines and a riot of flowers in every color of the rainbow.
Our guide glances in our direction. “Stay here.” She vanishes back into the jungle and returns with a thin liana vine looped around and around her right shoulder. She pulls out one of her arrows and ties the end of the vine to it. Then she draws her bow and deftly lets her arrow fly, streaking across the gulf and smack into a tree on the other side.
Manuel lets out a low, appreciative whistle. Even I’m impressed, despite myself. The tracker then secures the other end of the vine around a thick tree trunk on our side, pulling it taut. From our side of the river, the vine slopes down at a steep angle.
Then the tracker drops to her knees in front of the jaguar, pressing her forehead against its neck. I cringe at the sight, knowing the beast won’t hurt her, but I’m scared all the same. It purrs loudly and then scampers off into the jungle with a final look in our direction that I interpret to mean:Hurt her, and I will hunt you, outsiders.
