Page 90 of The Lost Guardian

They hacked at thick foliage with their knives, but more often than not, they were forced to change direction and circle around large swaths of impenetrable jungle. The sun’s smothering heat beat down on their struggling forms.

Sweat collected in every divot of Santiago’s body. Air chafed in his lungs. Every muscle ached. He dreamed of an ice-cold shower and a soft bed.

If her furious grunts and curses were any indication, Ali wasn’t faring much better. A far better swordswoman than him, she took the lead in cutting down the hanging vines, overgrown grass, and prickly bushes that stood in their path. Her arms were scratched and dirty, and her blade hand trembled with fatigue.

“How much farther?” Ali asked, wiping her brow with the sleeve of her shirt.

“I don’t know.” Santiago startled, baffled that she would ask him. “How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re the expert,” she snapped, grabbing at a clump of exposed roots to help her maneuver over a hill. The rocks and dirt she kicked up tumbled down on Santiago.

He coughed, irritation prickling his skin worse than his impending sunburn. It was bad enough that they had to preserve their water; he didn’t need more dust in his already parched mouth.

“Watch it,” he grumbled, hauling himself over the ridge behind her. He groaned when all he saw was more overgrowth. Were they ever going to get past it?

“Oh, my deepest apologies, Señor,” Ali said, bowing mockingly at him. “Perhaps you’d like me to sweep the path for you? Lay down a carpet? Sprinkle it with flower petals?”

“Don’t do that,” he bit out. “I just meant that it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more careful.”

“I’m trying to get us to the next clue!” Her voice rose. “But if you’d like to lead, please, be my guest! That is, if you think it wouldn’t kill you to take some initiative.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He crossed his arms.

She shook her head with a scoff. “Nothing, come on, let’s go.” She brushed past him.

“No, I want to know what you meant by that,” he said.

“I’m just saying you could contribute a bit more, that’s all,” she shot back. It wasn’t lost on him how many times she’d said just the opposite. And how good it had made him feel when she did.

Now Santiago felt like a fool. A few days ago, it might have cowed him. Today, he was hot and tired and sick to death of almost dying. His temper reared its scorpion tail.

“Contribute?” His voice matched hers now. “I’m sorry, who’s the one who solved the shadow clue? Who found the window in the Ransom Room? Who literally opened a vein to piece together this map?”

“Yes, yes, everyone knows how smart and gifted the brilliant Santiago Rios is,” she seethed. “Thank the gods he’s here to help. How could we ever get along without him?”

“I didn’t ask for any of this!” he cried out. “I’m just trying to do what Abuelo Manco wanted!”

“Not until I came, you weren’t!” she pointed out. “I had to drag you from your home to honor your grandfather’s wishes.”

“That’s not fair.” He recoiled, wounded. The guilt that accompanied her words only made his temper flare brighter. “I didn’t know any of this was real!”

“It doesn’t matter if you believed it or not!” Ali shot back. “You should have at least stepped up! Not got out on the side of the road and waited until your mommy convinced you.”

Santiago gasped.

“So I was supposed to be a superstitious fool? Take some half-remembered stories from my childhood as gospel? To train my whole life for this inevitable day?” he demanded.

“Rios,” Ali said, but Santiago wasn’t finished.

“I may not be some great, gunslinging adventurer or whatever it is that you claim to be, but I have contributed plenty to this mission.”

“Rios,” she repeated.

“And you know what? I may be completely out of my element, but I am trying my best!” Embarrassingly, he actually stomped.

“Rios!” she yelled, and Santiago stopped, chest heaving with emotion. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he demanded, his voice exasperated.