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Ali frowned and twisted a ringlet of her hair. “But does that count? We found those by accident.”

Santiago shook his head. “I don’t think so. If we hadn’t stumbled across those, there would have been others in the area to serve the same purpose.”

“What purpose?” Ali asked.

“To confirm we were on the right path.”

“Okay,” Ali said, sounding more convinced.

“And look at this valley.” Santiago threw his arms wide. “It’s massive. This wasn’t an accident. Even if we hadn’t fallen down that cliff, following the celestial llama would have gotten us here.”

“I agree.” Ali raised a brow. “If we’re meant to be here.”

She must have noticed his smug expression, because she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” she said. “How do you know we were meant to end up in this valley?”

“Because there’s another way to find Ukhu Pacha.” He turned her toward the river, passing the binoculars. “You could follow a snake.”

37

Ali stood for a long moment, looking at the snake-head carving. Santiago watched as her lips parted, then her jaw slowly dropped. When she finally put down the binoculars, her eyes were wide and shining.

“You did it!” She grinned, throwing her arms around him. With a whooping laugh, Santiago spun her.

“We did it,” he corrected, setting her back down.

“That’s got to be it,” Ali said.

She twisted to look back toward the river and then, to Santiago’s fascination, reached into a side pocket of her bag to pull out a pair of glasses. The same ones she’d worn when they first met.

“You actually wear glasses?” He gasped.

Ali jerked her chin upward. “Yes, and?”

“I—I thought…when we met,” he stammered.

He thought she’d chosen them because it was the sort of thing that would attract a nerdy historian like himself. He’d assumed they were part of the act.

“Why haven’t you worn them until now?” he asked her, marveling at how her curls tumbled wide on either side of the frames.

Gods, she’s pretty, he thought, a little dazed.

Ali huffed. “I’ve been wearing contacts,” she replied, sounding a little embarrassed. “But I ran out of solution. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Santiago opened his mouth, about to suggest that they throw her contact case in the river, when a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. They looked up at the sky. Pristine—not a cloud in sight.

“What wa—” The rumbling grew louder. He watched the color drain from Ali’s face as she gripped his arm.

“No,” she whispered, and when Santiago followed her gaze, he saw it. In the distance, three large helicopters were headed their way. Santiago snatched the binoculars from Ali’s hands and brought them to his eyes.

They weren’t the round, colorful little things used for aerial tours. Not that he expected anyone to fly all the way out to the middle of nowhere for tours. No, these were fucking Black Hawks.

These were the sort of things he imagined were flown by the military or mercenaries or…

Or by someone with a lot of money.

Santiago focused his vision on the side of the helicopters as they closed in on their location. He strained to see a name, something that would confirm his greatest fears. That would connect them to the gunmen, to Bernardo Torres, to the religious cult apparently hunting his bloodline.