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They set out at first light.

Their breakfast was fast and meager, a couple of granola bars washed down with cold coca tea. Santiago was glad to find there were no lingering effects to being roundhouse kicked in the gut, other than light bruising.

Ali pulled out her compass, angling them west.

“We’ll check it every hour to make sure we’re heading in the right direction,” she said.

“Let’s go find the shaman.” Santiago nodded, and they walked again.

It was easier than the day prior. Maybe his body was acclimatizing.

As the sun rose, so did the temperature, so much so that they stopped midmorning to peel off their outer layers. Santiago hid a smile as Ali wrapped his flannel shirt around her waist. She still hadn’t returned it, and he wasn’t about to ask for it back.

As they walked, they talked. They didn’t speak of her confessions beneath the tree—the words spilled among those hanging vines would stay there, seeped into bark and soaked down to roots.

But they spoke of other things, of the museum and Santiago’s mother. Ali told him about her travels, mostly throughout South and Central America, and Santiago was excited for her, though he also burned with longing.

Eventually, they circled back to José, whom they both still worried for, despite agreeing that he was likely more capable than the two of them combined. Which was saying something, given Ali.

“He denies it, but rumor is that he’s the only person alive who’s found the lost city of Paititi,” she told him, her voice heavy with admiration.

Santiago bristled.

“You’re joking!” he exclaimed, feeling his eyebrows rise so high, he was sure they reached his hairline. “Surely you don’t believe in El Dorado! A lost city of gold? It’s a fantasy.”

“We are literally on our way to the lost tomb of the last Incan emperor,” she challenged. “Filled with the treasure that was stolen back from the conquistadores. How is El Dorado less believable than that?”

“There are records, writings, history surrounding Atahualpa’s interactions with the Spanish,” Santiago argued. “There’s proof of his capture, his ransom, his murder, and his exhumation!”

“And there are reports from the missionary Andres Lopez in the 1600s that describe a city full of unimaginable wealth. Silver and gold and jewels!”

Santiago couldn’t help but laugh. “Only children and treasure hunters believe there’s a lost city in the jungle with its riches still intact.”

Ali looked away from him, and he immediately felt sorry for teasing her. Just because he didn’t believe in El Dorado didn’t mean that it wasn’t a nice myth, a fun tale to tell excitable kids and gullible adults. A city of gold sounded wondrous, after all, an explorer’s dream.

“Just because something is far-fetched doesn’t mean it can’t be true,” Ali argued, her mouth set stubbornly. “As you say, plenty of culture and knowledge has been lost to time. There could very well be such a place that existed as a tribute to the gods, a religious site that the Indigenous population hid intentionally when Spain began their plunder.”

Santiago was quiet, feeling thoroughly chastised. He let out a long exhale.

“You’re right,” he admitted.

Ali stopped in her tracks, whirling around to look at him.

“You’re right,” he repeated. “The Andes is an immense region that remains vastly understudied. There are likely many sites that are still undiscovered. Besides, a week ago I thought Abuelo Manco’s stories were just that: stories,” he said. “And look at where I am now. If there’s a lost tomb, maybe there’s a lost city as well.”

Ali stared at him long enough that Santiago had to resist the urge to shift on his feet. Finally, with a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, she shrugged. “I’m just telling you what the locals say about José.”

He noticed that she used the professor’s first name, while he remained “Rios.”

“I hope he’s all right,” he said.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Ali replied.

“I hope Canal is all right, too,” he murmured as they continued their hike. Guilt twisted in his stomach. He knew Brooke must be so worried, especially since he hadn’t thought to call and check in when he and Ali reached Peru.

In his defense, there had been a lot going on. But now he was in the middle of nowhere and well beyond cell service. She was going to kill him when he got back.

If he made it back.