“What now?” she asked.
“Well, I can’t let you go. Not knowing what you know.”
“Are you taking us to jail?”
“Oh no, senhora. That’s not what I mean. But I can’t let you take this.” He held up Rafa’s camera.
Miri’s heart sank. She understood what the protectors were trying to do. But taking the camera meant no evidence that they had found the Cidade da Lua. It meant everything she had accomplished would be forgotten.
It meant she’d still failed.
Her shoulders slumped. But as if Rafa understood what was going through her mind, he turned her shoulders toward him.
“Miri,” he said. “You did it. You did it when nobody else thought you could. Who cares if no one else knows the truth, so long as you do? Besides, I know the truth. And you are fucking incredible.”
He was right. So what if nobody believed her? She had something even better. Better than her name on a placard in a museum. Better than fame, fortune, and glory.
She had Rafa. And her integrity.
And she was a fucking badass.
Epilogue
Seven months later
The Discovery of the Lost City of the Moon
By Rafael Silva
I never wanted to be famous.
Yes, I wanted to explore the world and have my name listed as the author of articles in various magazines and publications, but fame? No. Unless you’re in the journalism and publishing world, people rarely remember the names of the authors of such articles.
Unfortunately (and if you’re reading this), by now you probably have heard of me, no thanks to my father. But in case you haven’t, here’s a one-paragraph bio of the highlights: My name is Rafael Silva (formerly Rafael Monfils), theGlobal Geographyjournalist on the most recent—but certainly not last—expedition led by Dr. Miriam Jacobs to theCidade Perdida da Lua, the Lost City of the Moon. My father is Jean-Luc Monfils, or as I recently learned, world-class artifact thief Pierre Vautour. I was sent by my father to sabotage Dr. Jacobs’s mission in the Amazon rainforest under the guise of needing to protect the city, while, unbeknownst to me, my father was leading another team through the very same jungle so they could pillage the Moon City’s riches for themselves. Gun and knife fights, jungle chases, kidnapping, lies, deception, and other vine-swinging adventures ensued. If you want all the nitty-gritty details, I’m sure you can read about it in the dozen or so newspaper articles already covering the topic. Dr. Jacobs and my father both found the Moon City. It sits practically untouched, thanks to the vigilant efforts of os protetores da lua, the Protectors of the Moon. The city’s bounties are plentiful. Its beauty unmatched. And while we left the Moon City with most of its treasures intact, Pierre Vautour got away. Or, at least, we think he did.
Now that you know who I am, here are the answers to the most frequent questions I’ve received in the months since I returned:
How did you not know your dad was Pierre Vautour?
Do we ever really know who our parents are (or any other person, for that matter)? Relationships are built on trust. Jean-Luc Monfils was a well-respected man, undertaking various philanthropic endeavors. I trusted that the person he portrayed himself to be was the person he actually was. All of his nefarious acts were hidden from me, so I never saw him in action. I didn’t go to bring-your-child-to-work day, though I’m not sure that’s much of a thing in the underground-artifact-smuggling world anyway.
Are os protetores da lua actual guardians?
Os protetores da lua have been guarding the Moon City for centuries, although more in a figurative sense. They are not standing at the gates of the city with spears and armor. There is no directory of os protetores da lua members. Instead, they blend into society. Listening for whispers of another Moon City expedition. Posing as Amazon guides who are unsurprisingly unable to point treasure hunters in the right direction. Sending archaeologists on wild goose chases. But always in a peaceful way.
But if you think you’re going to search for the Moon City after this, beware. The Amazon is no place for the faint of heart, after all. If you don’t manage to get lost or succumb to the torrential downpours, heat, or plethora of creatures that could off you in a single bite, prick, or attack, you still must contend with os protetores da lua, and while they are not violent and they are not murderers, they will do anything to protect their ancestors’ home.
Is Dr. Miriam Jacobs the next Dr. Socorro Mejía?
In my opinion, this is an unfair comparison and a bullshit question.
First, the only reason they’re being compared is because they are successful female archaeologists. Second, each of these women is her own person and amazing in her own way. Why the need to compare? But if you really want to know what I think of Dr. Miriam Jacobs, I’ll tell you right now—she is the raddest (sorry, inside joke), funniest, most badass woman I’ve ever met.
Full disclosure: she’s also soon to be my wife, so I might be slightly biased.
But in case you don’t want to take my biased word for it, keep this in mind: the Moon City has been the subject of many an Amazonian expedition. Yet in less than a matter of a few hours, Dr. Jacobs figured out the mystery that has been stumping people for hundreds of years. I’m not going to tell you how she did it. But using her research, she found the Cidade Perdida da Lua. So if that doesn’t inform you of how brilliant she is, then that’s on you.
Did your parents ever genuinely love each other or was your mother just another pawn in your father’s schemes?
