Manuel tightens his grip. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple, really,” I say. “The answer has been in front of me this whole time, and I didn’t see it because I’m stubborn. I’m a seer, not a queen.”
“Fine,” he says. “Fine. Butstayhere where it’s safe. Por favor.”
“I’m not your job anymore, Manuel.” My voice softens. “I release you from your position as my guard.”
His expression shifts, his jaw going slack, as if I struck him.
I march away, quickening my speed to catch up to the others. Their quiet voices echo in the tunnel. It feels like I was just here—the spot where I’d kissed Manuel looks exactly the same—but as I hurry along, my throat constricts. I meet up with the others at the dock, marveling at the roar of the waterfall, feeling every note of its song in my bones. The two guards peer into the boats and when they tip one onto its side, a family of black snakes falls into the water. We climb into the boats—Chaska, Kusi, and I in one, Sonco and the other men in the second—and just as we’re about to push off, Manuel comes running, footsteps thundering, and leaps into my canoe.
He lands next to me, and the boat rocks from side to side. I clutch the rail and glare at him. “You couldn’t have taken an empty one?”
“No!” he shouts furiously over the bellowing cry of the water. “I couldn’t.”
We push away from the dock and glide through the falls. The water slaps against my skin. We come out the other side, and the jungle’s sinister face welcomes us back.
“For a second I didn’t think you were coming,” Kusi says to Manuel.
He scowls at me. “I go where she goes.”
“Excellent,” Kusi says at last. “Can you keep an eye on the caimán following our boat?”
CAPÍTULO
Treinta y uno
We follow the river as it hugs and curves around the muddy banks of the steaming jungle. I stare into the dense green foliage, my heart heavy as I remember what it’s like to trek through the trees, a thousand predators lurking under every rock and leaf. The river is black enough that I can’t see through its inky surface, but I know there are creatures looking back at me.
Manuel hasn’t said a word since we left the waterfall.
We leave the canoes on the bank, cover them in wide palm fronds, and mark the location by crossing a few branches nearby. I pull my feet out of the mud that’s sucking me down to the tops of my boots. So much for polished leather. Kusi leads the way up to the tree line and we follow in single file, Manuel directly behind me. Under the canopy, the suddenly dim light makes my hair stand on end.
I’d forgotten about the jungle’s eerie green glow.
Manuel’s lessons rush back to me—don’t lean on anything, don’t touch anything.Snakes hide among fallen logs and branches, fire ants crawl on stems and tall grass, tarantulas nest in shadowy holes in the ground, and bats duck behind thick leaves. The jungle wages war against all of us, Manuel’s warnings my only shield.
We march on, quiet and alert. In every direction things crawl, fly, hiss, and grunt. At no point do we stop for a rest. It’s too dangerous, even when traveling with the Illari. They might make their home here, but the jungle is still the ultimate predator. The only true king. Every now and again, Manuel plucks a fruit and wordlessly hands it to me. I ignore his offerings and take a fruit for myself, careful not to touch or step on anything lethal.
There’s no sense of time, another thing I forgot. Because the canopy is so dense, I don’t notice the late hour until it’s suddenly incredibly dark, the fog curling around the trees obscuring my sight. Kusi holds up a hand and we stop.
“We make camp here,” he says.
Someone tends to a fire while another ventures off to hunt. I hope he brings back a platter of fried yuca and eggs over an enormous serving of rice. Manuel and I set up our hammocks. He makes sure to pick a pair of trees that is close to mine. I’m painfully aware of his presence, even though I refuse to look in his direction. He’s made his feelings perfectly clear.
We gather around the fire, passing dried beef, hardened cheese, cups of bamboo water, and hunks of slow-roasted rabbit meat. Sonco and Chaska fill in the details about the mission and my involvement. When they’re done, we’re all quiet. The two guards eat their fill and stand to take up the first watch.
“How far are we from the corruption?” I ask Kusi.
He points in the opposite direction of the river. “We have another full day of walking ahead of us if we move briskly.”
“Are we safe here?” I hate how my voice trembles, but there’s no denying the fear clinging to my skin, making goose bumps flare up and down my arms.
“Only Luna knows,” Sonco says.
I shudder, wishing for reassurance, but not finding any in his troubled expression.
“Then we’re just observing?” Manuel asks. “We’re not actually venturing into the corrupted land?”
