Page 66 of The Lost Guardian

In his excitement, Santiago had somehow forgotten his hunger. It reared up again, this time with a wave of angry nausea clawing at him in retaliation. He scooped a healthy portion onto his fork, and when the garlic and yellow pepper hit his tongue, Santiago’s eyes threatened to roll back in his head.

The marinated strips of meat combined with a mixture of onions, tomatoes, and seasonings. It all lay on a bed of both rice and French fries—either of which would have made a wonderful accompaniment to the meal; both were decadent.

In his delight, he didn’t notice Ali had left her plate untouched for several moments. When he dragged his gaze away from the delicious meal in front of him, he realized that she watched him. He lowered his cutlery slowly.

“What?” he asked.

Ali shook her head. “You love to eat, huh?” Her smile flashed a dimple in her cheek.

Santiago felt heat on the back of his neck. He shrugged, unsure how to answer.

“It’s not a bad thing,” she said.

Santiago shifted in his seat again. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

She picked up her fork. “Yeah. I just like watching you enjoy it first.”

There was a teasing lilt to her tone that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“It’s really good,” he answered, shrugging again. “I think I’ll let you order all our meals from now on.”

“From now on?” Ali raised a brow.

And Santiago’s cheeks burned.

21

Dawn hadn’t broken the horizon by the time they reached the stone forest. Ali had insisted on getting the three of them out of Cajamarca before Mario and Leo woke. Which was fair, but Santiago longed for the small, tucked-away hotel that José had found for them.

Apparently, Indiana Juanes knew everyone in town.

A fine, spiderweb mist clung to the base of the mountains, obscuring their footsteps as they approached. A rickety-looking guardrail and ticket booth stood like lonely sentinels in the haze.

There wasn’t a soul inside them. Ali stepped around the barrier and continued walking.

“Shouldn’t we at least leave some money?” Santiago asked.

“What for?” Ali replied, not even turning back to look at him.

José followed her with a shrug.

“I guess friends of José don’t pay, right?” Santi laughed under his breath as he rushed to keep up with them.

They moved upward, mimicking the path of the sun. After a while, the soft-packed ground beneath them transformed into rustically carved stone tiles, then lifted into steps. They continued in silence, focused on not losing their footing on the slippery surfaces.

As they climbed higher, a burst of air expelled forcefully from Santiago’s lungs. It caught him off guard, but he continued his ascent. More ragged exhales quickly followed, and after a moment’s confusion, Santiago was mortified to find that he was panting. He forced himself to take shallow breaths so the others wouldn’t notice his struggle.

That only made the situation worse.

“These huge rocks are actually volcanic pillars,” José called out from ahead. “They can go up to about eighteen meters…or, um, sixty feet I suppose?”

Santiago barely heard him. He felt like an anaconda was wrapped around his chest, a tremendous pressure squeezing all the air from his lungs. He wheezed in air as covertly as he could.

But no matter what he did, it wasn’t enough. Soon the path was so steep that his quads burned, and the lack of oxygen made him dizzy.

“They are called Los Frailones,” José said, sounding even farther ahead.

Were they speeding up? Damn, Santiago had to catch up.