Page 143 of The Lost Guardian

Torres came next, and to his credit, the man did not hesitate. He buttoned his suit jacket and strode forward, keeping his pace even. Mario followed soon after, then Lopez.

It was when Torres’s bodyguard crossed that everything went awry. He started well enough, walking with confidence. It seemed, however, that one of the darts passed precariously close to his face, and out of instinct, the man jerked backward.

The result was instantaneous.

The space was flooded with projectiles, slicing through his clothing and piercing his flesh. He screamed as they embedded into his face, and he fell forward, trying to crawl the rest of the way out. He looked up, reaching out a hand and wordlessly imploring the rest of them to help. His face was already puffy and swollen.

The darts were poisoned after all.

The man clutched at his throat, then collapsed on the floor, no longer moving.

The darts slowed, then stopped.

“Jorge!” Garcia called out, horrified.

So that was his name, Santiago thought, feeling oddly detached.

In the back of his mind, Santiago knew the sight of that man’s final moments would haunt his nightmares worse than the damn fish ever did.

But that was a problem for future Santiago. And his therapist.

“Unfortunate.” Torres shrugged. “But as they say, the show must go on.”

49

Together, they turned and assessed the latest room. It was about the width of a tennis court and at least twice as long. Its ceiling was enormous, with trapezoidal notches that let the light in high above. Santiago couldn’t tell the position of the sun from this angle, but he was certain he was running out of time.

His heart raced, awareness split evenly among Ali, his grandfather’s ashes (not on his person), and this latest room in Atahualpa’s maze.

The floor and walls were cut from that same pale stone, and an arched doorway was visible at the far side of the room. The center of the room was recessed, with steps leading down. Inside the sunken plaza, an elevated U-shaped platform led to the room’s only exit. It looked a lot like a small amphitheater.

“Oh,” Santiago breathed admiringly, despite the tidal waves of cortisol still crashing through his veins. “I see what they did here.”

“What?” Torres asked him. “What did ‘they’ do?”

“Well, unlike their Spanish counterparts, the Inca were known for welcoming ideas and concepts from the people they conquered into their own culture. They adopted and adapted elements from pre-Inca societies as well.”

“So?” Mario huffed, sounding remarkably impatient for a guy Santiago had witnessed slyly box-breathing his way through the death tunnel.

“So, this place is more than just a tomb. More than just a resting place for the emperor. It is more like a ceremonial center. And it looks like it’s imitating the architecture of the Chavín de Huántar site.”

“How so?” Torres asked, perking up. Santiago didn’t want to cater to the man, but Mario still loomed over Ali, and Santiago wouldn’t give them any excuses to hurt her.

He swallowed his resentment and forced himself to answer. This much, at least, he was always good at.

“This sunken courtyard mirrors the courtyards in both the old and new temples of Chavín de Huántar. It was round in the old temple and square in the new, but each had raised, U-shaped platform mounds like this.”

“Plazas hundidas have been common practice in Northern Peru since the second millennium BC. They’re in Salinas de Chao and Piedra Parada, too. Is that your only reasoning?” Torres asked, his interest clearly waning.

I’m choosing not to be impressed by that knowledge, Santiago decided. Since I know you only gained it to rob the places.

“The interconnecting chambers also remind me of Chavín,” Santiago continued. “Though as far as I’m aware, those were never booby-trapped.”

“This is all fascinating, Rios, but I was promised a treasure, and I see none. I am not a patient man.” A frown creased the space between Torres’s brows.

He must’ve given Mario an unspoken command, because the man grabbed Ali by the shoulder, and she let out a pained cry.

Santiago went into overdrive, lunging toward her before he could think any better of it. He was stopped by Mario’s gun.