Page 87 of The Lost Guardian

Mercenaries. He’d managed not to think much of the gunmen since they left Cajamarca—it was that or collapse altogether. Was it possible they’d followed him all the way up here?

The noises grew closer and more deliberate. Whatever it was, it approached their tents.

Ali, Santiago thought. He was the only one awake; he had to warn her.

As quietly as he could, Santiago reached for the hunting knife Ali had left inside his tent. The same one he’d used at the sacrificial stone. He sat up slowly, wincing as his sleeping bag rustled. He crouched and braced himself.

You can do this, he thought. You have to do this. Whatever it is, it could attack Ali at any moment.

His heart tripped in his chest, and his weary muscles trembled.

Three, two… he thought.

One.

Santiago sprang into action, ripping down the tent zipper in a single quick motion and leaping out, knife high, with a scream in his throat.

Only to be kicked instantly in the stomach.

He gasped, dropping the knife and landing on his knees on the cold stone floor of the cave.

“Rios?” he heard Ali call.

He let himself sink down farther, coughing into the dirt.

“What the hell?” she demanded. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Santiago sucked in a choking breath. “I”—cough—“heard”—gasp—“noises.” Wheeze.

“I was using the restroom,” she told him, sounding rightfully annoyed. “Do I need to check in with you next time?”

He shook his head. At least, as well as he could with his cheek pressed into the freezing ground.

Santiago heard Ali sigh, and then she helped him to sit up.

“You’re lucky I recognized you and pulled in my kick,” she said. “I could have really hurt you!”

He gaped at her. She’d dropped him like a bag of rocks, and that was her pulling in her strike?

“I’m sorry,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “You okay?”

Santiago nodded. What else was he supposed to say?

“Sorry,” he managed.

“Try to get some rest,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I’m going to do the same.”

Santiago stayed in place for a while longer after Ali was zipped safely back up in her tent. The stars were even brighter than before with no sunlight left to compete with, and it was more vibrant than any night sky he had ever seen.

The cloudy purple ribbon of the Milky Way stretched above him, the spattering of stars contrasting with the surrounding darkness like flecks of paint against an indigo canvas.

There were only a few places in the world where the Milky Way was visible to the naked eye, mostly due to light pollution. But high in the Peruvian Andes, far from civilization and under a blanket of nothing but unobstructed skies, it was spectacular.

Holding his aching gut, Santi took in the view. He wondered if Ali had lingered on it, too. He smiled.

At least it wasn’t ghosts.

…