Page 112 of The Lost Guardian

Santiago hated every second of it.

When the two of them had battled the terrain, or conserved their oxygen from the altitude, or focused on not losing their footing, the silence between them wasn’t so loud. Now it settled over them like a shroud, so obvious in its lack that it was the only thing Santiago could feel. He didn’t know how to make it better. How to salvage things between himself and Ali.

Should he apologize? Claim it meant nothing to him, so that she would feel better? Let her know that he wasn’t expecting anything, wasn’t asking anything more than she cared to give? Clarify that whatever promises they’d made in the dark need not be upheld, now that morning had come?

The pair rounded a bend in their path and came across a long, flat expanse of dirt and stone. A natural overlook. The view was so spectacular, Santiago felt a momentary reprieve from his guilt and heartache.

The forest stretched widely on all sides, extending farther than Santiago’s eyes could see. Beneath them was a green-and-brown canopy of trees, birds flitting from branch to branch, darting up in elaborate swirling dances only to drop back down and melt into the foliage.

A wide, rushing river cut through the tableau, curling and undulating across the vista like a snake.

There was a large rock formation at the top of the river that Santiago imagined as the head and mouth of a giant serpent. The land surrounding it was lush with overgrown grasses and wildflowers.

The air was crisp and cool.

In wordless agreement, Santiago and Ali dropped their backpacks to take their first break of the day.

Apologize, a voice in his head told him.

Yes, but what for? he asked himself.

You obviously made her feel uncomfortable! the voice chided.

But how do I fix that? he thought, frustrated.

Say you’re sorry!

What if I offend her even more? Saying “sorry I slept with you” doesn’t seem like the right move! he thought. Besides, it’d be a lie anyway. I’m not sorry for sleeping with her. I’m only sorry she’s regretting it.

The voice had no answer for him.

“Rios,” Ali said, startling Santiago out of his inner ramblings.

Oh no, he thought. He was “Rios” again. Worse, Santiago knew what was coming next.

He sprang up, desperate to avoid the inevitable.

“We have to come across something sooner or later,” he said quickly, not meeting her eyes. “The course of the heliacal rise is very specific, and we’ve kept our direction, even with the fall.”

“Rios,” Ali repeated. Her voice was soft.

She’s getting ready to let me down gently, Santiago thought. As if her actions that morning hadn’t made it abundantly clear where she stood.

“It’s fine,” he said, still not looking at her. “I understand. You don’t have to…you don’t have to,” he finished awkwardly.

“I don’t have to?” Ali asked, her voice puzzled.

Santiago squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that spots swam in his vision. When he opened them again, the horizon wobbled for a moment before righting itself. He squared his shoulders and finally turned to look at Ali.

She stood, arms crossed under her chest. She’d left her dark hair unbound, but he knew that as soon as the sun warmed the mountains further, she would pull it up and off her neck. He knew because he had watched her do it, time and time again, sneaking glances at the long expanse of tattooed skin she would uncover with the action. He had finally been able to trace it, to taste it.

But no. He forced his mind away from those thoughts.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything,” he started, watching a frown crinkle her forehead. He hated that he’d put that expression on her face. “I get it. Last night happened quickly, and we got caught up in the moment.”

His throat felt tight, and he swallowed hard to ease some of the tension.

“Rios…” she tried again, but Santiago shook his head.