A soft tap sounded at my door just before five in the morning. I brushed my sweating palms on my jeans.
“Are you ready, child?” Muraco said as soon as I opened the door. His white hair stood out brightly against his darkly tanned, wrinkled skin. He was tall, but walked with a little bit of a hunch. His golden aura had threads of darker oranges and reds running through it. Most of the wolves here had very one-note auras, but his was rich and varied. The deeper highlights told me he was special. He had to be much stronger than he looked. And much, much older.
“Yes, sir.”
He huffed and turned, heading down the hallway.
I leaned over my brother and kissed his clammy forehead. “Hang in there for me. Don’t you dare give up.”
With that, I hoisted my pack and started after Muraco. When I reached the door, I didn’t dare look back.
The next time I saw Raphael, I’d be handing him the cure he needed.
A black SUV was idling in the parking lot. I didn’t know which Cazador had to take us to the airport, but I felt a little bad about the early hour. I could’ve driven. I had a license. Not that I used it much… But I had it.
“You will do this,” Muraco said when I got in the car.
I placed my backpack between my feet and buckled in. “Of course.” I stared out the window as the car began to move.
So long, I thought to myself as the driver sped out of St. Ailbe’s parking lot. Only the unknown lay ahead of me. Even with all my worry, there was hope. I just had to hold on to that feeling and not let go.
***
By the time we landed in Cusco, I was ready to be done traveling. It’d taken two flights and most of the day. Since Mr. Dawson had to get my ticket so last minute, I was at the back of the plane, while Muraco was at the front. I didn’t mind, but now I was anxious. In all the rush, we hadn’t coordinated where we’d meet after this last leg of our journey.
At least I’d found a new hope to latch onto. As soon as we’d taken off in San Antonio, I’d felt my oath to Luciana start thinning
I’d let sleep take me in the middle of the first flight, but I’d been in the aisle seat. The guy in the middle seat hadn’t liked it when my head rested on his shoulder and he couldn’t wake me. He’d been pretty upset.
Since I was on the aisle again for the second leg of the trip, I fought sleep the whole way from Lima to Cusco. I didn’t want to cause another scene, but a handful of hours of sleep in the past few days made it extremely difficult to keep my eyes open. Thankfully, it wasn’t a long flight.
I waited to exit my aisle, holding only my small purse. I texted Teresa quickly and then shut the phone off as the roaming warnings started buzzing in. I’d borrowed Raphael’s cell, but I would pay for the bill. It would be expensive if I wasn’t extremely careful. I looked past the man sitting next to me to stare out the window as I waited for everyone in front to clear the way. The sun was setting outside the airplane window, spreading beautiful pinks and oranges across the sky.
“Ma’am?” the guy sitting next to me said, impatient to get out of the aisle.
“Sorry.” I moved too quickly and tripped over my own feet. Just the way I wanted to start this out. “Sorry,” I mumbled again to no one in particular and started down the aisle.
As soon as I crossed the bridge, the temperature hit me. Cold. I held my arms tight to my body. Even the air smelled different here. Thinner and crisper. The crisp part was fine, but the thin quality made it feel like I couldn’t take a full breath.
I inhaled deeply, trying to get in more air, and failed. I’d never been at such a high altitude. Muraco had said to be careful and take it easy, but I didn’t have time for that. I had to adjust quickly.
I stepped into the terminal and looked around for the old wolf, but Muraco was long gone. I couldn’t find a hint of him anywhere. The mass of people moving up and down the areas between gates made it hard to really find anyone. Overhead signs pointed the way to the exit—baggage claim and car services—and I started along my way. At least I’d already gone through customs in Lima.
I tried to search for Muraco in the crowd ahead, but didn’t see him anywhere as I walked forward. He must be waiting for me somewhere outside.
He’d better be waiting for me somewhere outside.
I made it to the baggage claim and grabbed my bag, hefting onto my shoulder before continuing my search for Muraco. The closer I got to the exits, the more chaotic the airport got. Tour guides held up signs trying to get their groups together. Stands advertising different tourist attractions took up space along the walls, crowding me in as workers shouted about deals.