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“Really, I’ll be okay,” she insisted.

“I don’t trust you,” Santiago said bluntly, wrapping her arm with a fresh piece of gauze. “And I really don’t like you right now, but I don’t want you to die, either. So you let me know if this gets worse.”

“It’s fine,” she repeated, but he shot her a furious glare. The intensity of it seemed to surprise her.

After a long moment, she nodded, wordless.

“What’s the plan?” She looked up at the sky, gnawing at her lip when she noticed the placement of the sun. “It’s probably midmorning by now. We likely only have a few more hours, tops.”

“Then we’d better get going,” Santiago answered, standing. Ali hesitated, then tentatively reached her uninjured arm up toward him.

Full of resentful resignation, he grasped her hand and hauled her up. The second he was sure she was steady on her feet, he released her like a hot coal.

Taking his attention off Ali for the first time, he noticed that the chimú dog was gone. His heart sank. He hadn’t gotten to give her a scratch goodbye.

Thank you, girl.

Santiago knew the way from here. They only needed to return to the boat’s wreckage, then follow the river upstream to their destination.

“Let’s go stop a curse,” he said, praying that they would make it in time.

44

The trek upriver was beautiful. Now that they weren’t rushing down perilous rapids in a motorboat, Santiago could appreciate the little waterfalls and frothy bubbles that tripped happily downstream, joyous within their place in the world.

Maybe someday, if he didn’t come to remember this valley as the site he’d doomed millions, he would return to raft it properly.

After a quick discussion, Ali and Santiago agreed to hug the tree line as tightly as possible. She said that Bernardo Torres’s men had searched for them for hours last night, the lights of their ATVs visible even as far as her hiding spot. It was likely they hadn’t given up their search and would be even more determined in the light of day.

They didn’t say it aloud, but both knew there was a real chance the Huáscaros had reached Atahualpa’s tomb before them. Best-case scenario, there was more shamanic magic that kept them from discovering it.

Still a very bad-case scenario, since it meant they would be lying in wait for Santiago to arrive.

Time raced against them now, the sun creeping like sand in an hourglass, trickling down the moments to their demise.

Santiago felt hot, his heart beating erratically and his palms sweating. Ali had asked him before what his plan was, and the truth was that he didn’t really have one.

He didn’t know what to do if the gunmen had beaten them to the tomb. They were outmanned and unarmed and, worse still, Ali grew weaker with every step.

Her eyes were glassy and she stumbled often, but she always righted herself before Santiago could help.

Emotions beat their heads together like rams inside his chest. She was none of his concern. And he wanted desperately to help her.

Wordlessly, he handed her his canteen, and they paused for a moment so she could drink. She nodded her thanks to him, and they continued, the tension between them sharp as a blade.

“I never meant to hurt you, you know,” she said, bursting the silence like a soap bubble.

“Don’t.” He sighed, weary. What could she say that would soften her betrayal? And how could he believe it?

“I didn’t expect to care for you.” She ignored his warning.

Panic assailed him, shooting through his veins and making the tips of his fingers grow numb. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want her explanations. Most of all, he didn’t want to have any excuse to forgive her.

It would be too easy for him. Too tempting. He refused to be that naive again. He had grown a lot, beside Ali. Maybe he had even outgrown her. The thought stabbed right through him.

“I’ll admit your looks surprised me first,” she said. “I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m just being honest.”

The tops of Santiago’s cheeks tingled with warmth. He wasn’t sure if he should plug his fingers into his ears or fall to his knees and beg her to explain what she meant by that. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, he didn’t have to.