Page 76 of The Lost Guardian

Santi’s heart twisted so hard in his chest that he was sure he wouldn’t survive it.

With one last look at his hero’s fading form—at the wicked grin that split his face while actually dual-wielding blades like it was second nature—Santiago allowed Ali to pull him away.

23

Santiago stumbled after Ali, branches clawing at his sleeves as they forced their way through the undergrowth. Behind him, the sounds of battle echoed through the trees, wood splintering, steel striking stone, José shouting something he couldn’t make out. Something remarkably akin to a battle cry.

He almost turned back. Almost. Ali caught his sleeve before he could.

“We can’t.”

The words hit him like a physical blow, because she was right.

This was all his fault.

If he hadn’t been so closed-minded. If José hadn’t felt the need to test his own blood. If Santiago hadn’t questioned the magic.

The magic.

Not engineering. Not mathematics. Not an illusion, or a hallucination, or a trick.

In the middle of the forest, deep within the Andes, Santiago crouched down to drop his head in his hands.

“He’ll be okay,” Ali said, but Santiago could hear the fear in her voice.

“What was that?” he asked, unable to look her in the eye. “That was… I mean…”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s real. It’s all real.”

She knelt beside him. “I know.”

Finally, he lifted his gaze and put words to the source of his devastating dread. “That means the curse is real, too.”

Ali nodded.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Santiago dragged his hands over his face. His body felt impossibly heavy. “We need to stop it.”

“To do that, we need to find Atahualpa’s tomb,” Ali answered. “We need to keep going.”

Santi looked back toward Cumbemayo. Back toward the stone.

“Do you really think he’ll be all right?”

“I don’t know. But I think there’s more to the professor than meets the eye.”

Talk about an understatement.

“He said something about the first time he saw magic,” Santiago remembered.

Ali nodded. “It hardly seemed like this was his first time.”

Santiago’s chest still hurt, but a sliver of hope sparked inside him, soothing it like a salve. She was right. José had looked damn near comfortable battling those spectral soldiers. Elated, even.

Santiago laughed despite himself. If this wasn’t real life—with real consequences—he would say that that man was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Okay. We keep going.”