Another swift nod.
I pause, unsure. But Manuel urges me forward gently. “I’ll be right behind you, Catalina.”
Reluctantly, I press on, but I glance over my shoulder right before I turn a corner. Chaska has her feet spread apart, hands on her hips. Her lips move in a furious whisper. With every word, Manuel’s countenance loses all warmth. His shoulders tighten, his jaw clenches. Then he slowly folds his arms across his chest as his face turns stony and resigned.
What is the Illari telling him?
One of the guards beckons me to continue. My footsteps are heavy as I follow him, questions swirling in my mind. Perhaps I’m not wanted here after all. Maybe they’ll turn us out without hearing my case. My mouth feels dry as worry seeps into my bones.
The tunnel is long, and the damp smell of mushrooms and wet rock assaults my nose. Somewhere behind me, Manuel and Chaska’s approach grows louder and louder. I want to demand answers, but we’ve reached the end of the path. At the cave entrance, I stop, unable to move another step. The view is incredible. Hundreds of torchlights line curved paths, dotting hills and neighborhoods. Moonlight glows down into the sprawling city below, and I can see some of the buildings spilling outward in a decadent display. They are all white, and the roofs glint golden against the guttering fires. Dividing the city in two is a curving river. I can hear the water even from where we are way up on the ledge. There are people milling around, heading to their homes, sitting around various campfires that look like giant flaming stars set against the dark curve of the hill.
Paititi.
CAPÍTULO
Veinte
Chaska jerks her chin toward a dirt path leading down toward the city. We follow the Illari, and the path turns to cobbled stone under our feet. Manuel stays behind me, and though I can’t hear him, I can feel his presence. His steps are in tune with mine. Torches guide us. We descend stairs made of solid rock, continuing on, following switchback after switchback, until we reach the bottom of the hill. The city bobs into view.
It looks nothing like I imagined. I pictured people eating off golden plates, living in solid-gold dwellings. The roads were supposed to be cobbled with gold too. How silly of me! This place is breathtaking in its organized simplicity. Functional, protected, and hidden. It has to be, if there truly is gold to be found within.
There are more people waiting for us by a cluster of white circular buildings with golden roofs and handsome doors. They’re made of wood paneling and arched at the top. One of the Illari steps forward, a girl close to my age.
“I am Nina,” she says in Quechua.
“Mi nombre es Catalina Quiroga,” I say, choosing to speak in Castellano. “This is my friend Manuel.”
“Bienvenidos a Paititi,” she says. “Our king regrets being unable to welcome you himself, but he sends his regards.”
Since she doesn’t offer the king’s name, I don’t ask for it. He might be vain and expect me to know it already.
“Will you please follow me?”
Manuel and I both step forward, but Nina shakes her head.
“Only Catalina.”
“We stay together,” Manuel says firmly.
“Even for bathing?”
Manuel blushes to the roots of his hair. When he nods, I almost fall over. Nina merely smiles and beckons for us to follow.
“I’m sorry—I won’t leave you alone until I know it’s safe to do so,” Manuel says under his breath.
“I don’t mind.” I reach for his hand, but he steps away, gaze averted from mine as if he can’t stand to look at me. I let my palm drop, and I fight to keep the hurt out of my voice. But I don’t succeed. “What is it?”
Manuel motions for me to walk ahead, his expression remote and grave, and then he lags behind with our newest guides. I resist looking over my shoulder as he strikes up a conversation. In the space of a walk, something has shifted between us. Once again I wonder what the Illari tracker told him.
We keep to the outskirts, though the paths are also well lit. Chaska has disappeared, along with the other two guards. Only the three women remain with their guards. Our attendants are dressed in long tunics and open-toed sandals. Their dark hair is worn long and loose, reaching their waists.
Part of the river has broken away to form a round pool. Stone steps lead down into the clear water. The pool looks like the moon, and the steps form a crescent shape alongside it. Guttering torches provide enough light to showcase the deep azure of the water.
Next to the pool is a small building, also round and white. Nina disappears inside and comes out with baskets for both Manuel and me. Each is filled with fresh clothing, a bar of soap, bundles of mint leaves, and rough cotton towels.
She gestures toward a large flat rock next to the pool. “Leave your clothes there. We’ll clean them for you.” She wrinkles her nose as she assesses my shirt and trousers. “Or burn them.”
“Burn,” I say with a small smile. “Definitely burn it all.”
