I can’t seem to stop crying. My head is pounding.
“Three deep gashes,” he says quietly. “You’ll have scars, but I’m more worried about you contracting a fever. ¿Cómo te sientes?”
“Feverish.”
He falls silent and continues to wash my back. “Can you stand?”
I nod, and with his help I’m back on my feet. His forearm rests against my forehead, and his lips thin to a narrow slash. He mutters a low curse.
I can’t believe he’s touching me. Manuel.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I whisper. “She banished me.”
Manuel’s face darkens. He removes his arm slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. A muscle in his jaw jumps. “What do you mean, banished?”
We’re standing close, inches apart. He’s grown up since he left the Illustrian keep. Filled out in the shoulders, his features no longer soft from boyhood. There’re new lines that cross his forehead. Manuel’s gaze is intent on mine. His anger is palpable, radiating heat like steam coming from a boiling pot.
I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to have it all out right now. But it’s the middle of the night, and who knows what monsters are hunting us. He seems to realize the same because he tugs me away from the water and back up the riverbank. We reach the wall and he stands with feet braced apart, fists on his hips, head tilted back to better study it.
“I can’t climb it.”
“I know,” he says. “But we can’t stay on the ground. The cave is our best hope for survival. There’s only one entry point, and I can defend us from any dangers. Down here …” He trails off. Manuel comes to a decision and turns to face me. “Get on my back.”
“Impossible,” I say. “It’s raining.”
“Barely misting.”
“It’s a long way up—”
“You either get on my back or we stay down here. If we do, it’s over.” There’s a hint of a challenge in his tone. “Don’t tell me you’re ready to quit. The condesa I knew wasn’t afraid of heights.”
“This is very different from climbing the Illustrian tower and you know it.” As children we’d race to the craggy walls and finagle our feet into the grooves, reaching high for the next bit of stone and continuing upward until we’d reached the top. Manuel always teased me that I’d never do it, but of course I did. He quickly learned never to say I couldn’t do something.
“Are you through?” Manuel waits for my reply, patient and quiet.
I summon whatever stubborn energy I have left. I shake my head. He nods, satisfied, and then turns. I place my arms on his shoulders, then wind my legs around his waist. Manuel bounces me up higher. “Do you have a strong enough hold?”
I study the spidery cracks in the wall. “Will you?”
He reaches for the first ledge. My cheek softly glides against the back of his head under the brim of his hat, rustling his dark hair. “Don’t let us fall,” I whisper. My lips almost brush his neck. I’m half out of my mind with fever, my back is raw, but all I can think about is how soft his olive skin looks. It was soft then too, the night he kissed me all those years ago. I’d been surprised, delighted.
Overwhelmed.
I’ve thought about him every day for three years. And now he’s here with me. Inches away. I’m such an idiot. I think it even as I slowly dip forward. I place a feathery kiss right under his left ear.
He immediately stiffens, his arm still outstretched. “Do not do that again.”
Heat floods my cheeks.
“Lo siento,” I say. What was I thinking? It’s been a long time since we played as kids, protected by fortress walls, a long time since we stayed awake all night making up stories about the constellations. He knew my secret and called me by my real name behind closed doors. All the other boys thought I was just a maid, a helpmate to who they thought was the condesa. My proximity to Ximena made me attractive to them, but I knew their attentions were as fickle as thunderstorms. Manuel was the steady ray of light that cut through the fog.
But the Manuel in front of me lost his sense of humor a long time ago. I can see it in the tight lines around his eyes, in the straight edge of his shoulders, straight enough to measure with. There’s only one thing I recognize: his protectiveness.
Always my guardian.
And here he is now, saving me again.
It must be my fever, the lack of sleep. The terror I’m trying to keep deep within me, buried with the rest of my secrets. The realization of how much I missed him. I’m such a fool.
“It’s fine,” he says gruffly. “I’m starting. Don’t …” He clears his throat. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”
Don’t kiss me again. That’s what he means.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “All right.”
He climbs with me clutching at him like a baby monkey. It’s slow going, but he’s sure-footed, as if he’s made this climb many times before. I open my eyes and peer over my shoulder when we’re about halfway up. I’m not afraid of heights, but the view is terrifying. The canopy of trees looks like tiny shrubs meant for a doll’s house. Broccoli tops on cinnamon sticks.
The wind is our constant companion, and with every gust, I cringe. If Manuel were to slip … I try not to think about it. His skin is clammy with sweat. Under the leather vest, the muscles in his back move as he continues the climb. I try not to breathe too heavily. I try to remain still. Manuel groans softly under his breath as he heaves us upward, inch by inch, groove by groove.
We reach the ledge of the cave.
“Catalina,” he says, in between huffs. “You need to climb in first. Do you see the coiled vine near the edge?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t say anything else in order to conserve his strength.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper. “What if I make us fall?”
“Do it. Ahora, por favor.”
My body is trembling, but so is his, from exertion and wariness. I can’t burden him further. I reach for the vine, drawing it closer. It scratches against the hard rock.
Manuel reaches for the vine, wrapping it around his wrist. His arm is faintly vibrating.
“Go. Anda,” he says, his voice rough, as if it’s been scraped against rocks. “Rápido, rápido.”
I haul myself up and over him. My knees scrape against the rock, and once I’m crawling on the ledge, he lets out a sigh of relief. He heaves himself over the ledge, and collapses next to me, legs dangling out of the cave entrance.
I poke his shoulder. Manuel grunts, and the noise startles a laugh out of me. He turns his head, his eyes crinkling with amusement, a soft almost-smile on his lips.
My breath catches. Like his mother, he rarely smiles.
“You did it,” I say. “I don’t know how you did it, but you did it.”
He climbed a vertical slab of granite, without a rope, and with me on his back. He’s kind of amazing. And unrecognizable. The soft boy I remember no longer exists.
Manuel nods as he half drags, half crawls away from the edge. I stare out into the night, the shreds of my pant legs whipping in the breeze. My vision darkens, making everything seem as if it’s touched by shadows. He grabs me by the crook of my elbow and pulls me farther into the cave.