Page 23 of The Lost Guardian

“Have you checked the necklace?” Brooke interrupted.

“What?” Santiago’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean ‘checked’?”

“Well, in his letter, he says it’s the key, right? So have you checked if there’s some hidden message or something?”

The necklace is the key.

The stories were true. You must believe.

Santiago placed his hand over the pendant that was hidden under his shirt. Ali tracked his movements.

“You have it on you?” she asked, reaching her hand out. “Let me see it.”

Santiago gripped it tighter. “You’re driving!” he protested. “And it’s just a necklace.”

“Maybe not,” Brooke said. “Maybe it’s more.”

“You aren’t really buying all of this, are you?” he asked her, surprised.

Brooke shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

“Name one!” Santiago was stunned.

“No matter what you believe, it’s feasible that your grandfather really did know the location of this tomb. He must have believed so if he told you he was going to take you someday,” Brooke continued. “And if I’m understanding all this correctly, it is where he wanted to be laid to rest, right? As one of these Guardianes, with this emperor? The way I see it, it’s your responsibility to honor his last wishes.”

“His last wishes led armed men to my house!” Santiago responded. “This is too dangerous—”

“It’s dangerous either way,” Ali cut in. “They’ve found you, and they know who you are. They aren’t just going to give up.”

“Then I’ll go to the police,” Santiago said.

Ali laughed, her head tilting back to reveal the long line of her neck.

“You think men like Bernardo Torres are afraid of the American police?” she asked, shaking her head. “You don’t think he has someone there waiting for you right now? He has more money and connections than you can imagine.”

“Then maybe I just give them what they want!” Santiago argued, pulling the necklace over his shirt. He gripped the stone pendant tightly in his fist. “If this really is ‘the key,’ why don’t I just give it to them and go back to living my life in peace?”

Both women looked at him with such naked disappointment that he felt himself physically shrink. But who were they to make this decision for him? It was his life on the line, after all.

“If you give them the key and they find the tomb, not only will Atahualpa’s treasure be lost to the world,” Ali started, “it will go to line the pockets of rich and corrupt men. The gemstones will be plucked from their sculptures, the gold melted down for transport. Just like the Spanish did to the riches of Cusco centuries ago.”

Santiago’s heart twisted in his chest. Atahualpa’s tomb would be a once-in-a-generation find for the archeological community. The implications of its discovery would resonate throughout the world. As a historian, he couldn’t imagine losing its treasures to the hands of criminals and grave robbers.

Just as much, he hated the thought of disappointing his grandfather. A man who he had barely known but who had come to mean so much to him in such a short amount of time.

Santiago may not have known his abuelo, but he did know who he was. Santiago was not a member of a long line of royal Guardians. He did not inherit a generational mission to protect the tomb of the last Incan emperor. Even if Atahualpa’s resting place—and treasure—could be found and protected, he wasn’t going to be the one to do it. He couldn’t save history from men with guns.

Santiago was no hero.

“Stop the car,” he said quietly. By then they were back on side streets, although he wasn’t sure where.

Ali spared him a glance but didn’t slow.

“Stop the car!” he yelled. “Or I’m jumping out.”

Ali, clearly surprised, eased them toward a stretch of empty sidewalk.

“Rios,” she started, turning to face him.