Page 74 of The Lost Guardian

You’re just scared he’s right. His internal monologue called him out.

“We only need a little,” José said, pricking his thumb. He let the blood well up on his digit before tilting it onto the stone.

The moment the red droplet hit the top of the structure, there was a hissing sizzle, like the sound of meat charring on a grill.

Something was wrong.

“Uh.” Santiago grabbed José’s and Ali’s arms, stepping back.

José’s blood didn’t flow. It blackened.

The droplets became ash, replicating to impossible volumes. A network of dark veins spread through the carved channels, desecrating even the one Santiago’s blood had revealed.

Instantly, the forest fell silent. Even the insects hushed.

“So, that didn’t work.” Ali finally broke the stillness.

José shook his head. “I would be offended if it weren’t so amazing.”

There’s a perfectly rational explanation for this.

But Santiago didn’t voice his thoughts. He knew he wouldn’t convince anyone. Not even himself.

The world rumbled inside his head.

“So?” José was punchable with glee. “Are you convinced?”

“We know which way to go.” Santiago didn’t answer his question, only looked stiffly toward the two pillars.

“Shall we, then?” José swept an arm out, as if saying, After you. Santiago advanced on wobbly legs, Ali beside him. Was he underwater?

Ali passed through the pillars first, only her flickering eyes betraying her uneasiness. He thought he heard a sigh of relief.

Santiago held his breath as he followed her through the glowing stones. The moment he did, their impossible light disappeared. This soothed him, but only until he glanced back at the sacrificial stone.

Nausea curdled his gut. Those menacing, scorched lines persisted. What was the explanation? Something about genetics?

Then José approached the pillars, and the pounding drum of Santiago’s heartbeat got louder.

“What is that?” Ali asked, gripping Santiago’s arm.

He shook his head. Was the sound not coming from inside him?

It wasn’t. It was coming from the pillars. The two stone giants that framed their path flashed with light once more, and two shadowy shapes stepped from their depths.

Santiago’s knees buckled and black spots crowded his vision. He gulped in air, not sure whether to blame the altitude or his terror for his sudden nausea. He wanted to run, but the figures were between José and their path.

The translucent warriors wore brightly feathered headdresses and quilted armor, and both carried spears. They ignored Ali and Santi but scanned José intently. One of the soldiers pointed with wispy fingers at the blood dripping from the professor’s hand, and they both braced themselves in a defensive position.

“Protectors of the mountain,” José breathed, his eyes wide. The sicko was still smiling. He backed up slowly, putting space between them.

“José,” Ali said, stepping forward as if to cross to him. Santiago grabbed her and pulled her back.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“We have to help him!”

“Stay back,” José warned them as a soldier drew his spear and advanced. Santiago didn’t even have time to gasp before José reached up in between his jacket and hiking bag and pulled out a weapon of his own, parrying the spectral soldier’s thrust.