Page 100 of The Lost Guardian

What if there isn’t a ledge beneath us? Santiago thought. What then? The rope isn’t long enough to extend to the bottom of the mountain.

Santiago had a brief, horrible image of himself reaching the end of the rope and having to climb all the way back up without her.

He shook his head. That didn’t matter now. All that mattered was finding Ali.

He descended, careful not to lose his grip again. The foliage was so thick, he wasn’t sure how much farther he would be able to go, but he didn’t stop. With a jolt, he maneuvered himself through the branches of a tree and found his feet firmly planted on solid ground.

He gently probed around with his feet, assuring himself that he’d reached a sizable outcropping and not just a narrow ledge. If Ali had fallen in this direction, perhaps the dense foliage would have slowed her enough.

“Ali?” he called out, holding his breath. His only answer was the whispers of wind.

Carefully, Santiago unfastened himself from the harness.

“Ali!” he called out again, louder this time.

Santiago gripped his hair in his hands, prepared to dissolve into despair, when a flicker of color caught his eye. He approached it, certain it didn’t belong. When he was close enough, Santiago realized what it was.

Only the sleeve was visible, peeking out from a bramble. He reached for it with trembling hands, pulling it free. It was his flannel. It was filthy, covered in mud and dust, but no blood.

Santiago swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, a hot rock of hope and fear, as he tucked the flannel into his pack.

“Ali!” he yelled, as loud as he was able. “Alliyma!”

A vise squeezed, hard and unrelenting, around his chest. He was sure that his lungs would collapse from the pressure when suddenly, from somewhere to his left, he heard:

“Rios?”

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Santiago collapsed to his knees, lowering his head to the ground. Tears leaked freely from the corners of his eyes. A single sob tore free of his throat.

Thank you, he thought. Thank you, thank you, thank you. To any god that guards this mountain, thank you.

“Where are you?” he croaked out as best he could, trying to orient himself in the direction of her voice.

“I—I don’t know,” he heard her call out and followed the sound. “I’m here!”

“Are you—” He tried to speak, but his voice broke. “Are you all right?” His second attempt was wobbly, but he projected as best he could.

“Maybe,” she replied. She didn’t sound that far from him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, the myriad of horrific images his mind had conjured refusing to release him.

“Yes, I think I’m fine,” she said, sounding more confident. “Banged up and bruised, but I don’t think anything is broken.”

“You sound like you’re below me,” Santiago said, moving closer to her voice. Sure enough, he reached another ledge, plunging down into a denser patch of forest. He crawled toward the edge. “Can you see me?”

“No, but I can hear you much better,” she answered. “I think you’re right; you’re just above me. But, Rios, you need to come down here.”

He scanned the area around him, trying to find his best path forward. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he found a thick system of roots twining around the rock wall. He grasped a few and gave them an experimental tug.

They held.

“I’m coming!” Santiago called to Ali.

“Be careful!” he heard her say.

“Actually, I thought I’d practice my jumping.”