As soon as the camp began to stir, Emilio got to his feet. How long would it take before someone dared to enter the ruler's bedchamber and discovered he was dead? Would it be punishable by death? Would they only find out once the body started to rot, or had they already realized something was wrong?

It seemed wisest to leave this place as quickly as possible. There were no means of transport here, so if they immediately set off in the direction of the rebels, it probably wouldn't be easy for anyone to catch up with them.

Emilio stepped through the gate and approached the first warrior he saw. "Excuse me," he said in the native tongue. "Iliyan?" He gestured towards the cluster of adobe buildings.

The man took a step back, stared at him with wide eyes, then dropped to one knee. Emilio waited impatiently for him to finish the whole display. After half a minute, the warrior got back to his feet and pointed to the second hut on the left.

"Thank you." It wasn't a gesture that came naturally to him, but he rested a hand on the man's shoulder in the hope that it would make him feel appreciated. Just in case I ever need his goodwill again.

He withdrew his hand and strode towards the hut he'd been directed to. Suddenly, he felt nervous. What if Iliyan isn't here? Where am I supposed to look for him then? And what if he is? He thought back to the helplessness he'd felt yesterday. He'd needed his friend, and he hadn't been there.

There were five sleeping places inside. One of them was empty—Iliyan was nowhere to be seen. The fear that he'd been disposed of after all swept away every other emotion. What if he's really dead? What if I never see him again? He drew in a sharp breath and steadied himself against the doorframe.

Another warrior limped towards him.

"T'ukri!" Emilio exclaimed in relief. Not so much because it was a familiar face—he'd only seen him once, months ago, and recognized him solely by the way he walked—but because he was the only warrior Iliyan had been friends with. Surely he'd help him find out what had happened to his friend. "I'm looking for Iliyan."

T'ukri answered immediately, speaking so quickly that Emilio could only frown at him. Seeing his confusion, the young warrior repeated himself more slowly. "He was home for a while. Then he left with the alpaca. He didn't want to go to the wedding."

Then where did he go? Why did he leave me behind?

Emilio tried to find out whether Iliyan had said anything else to T'ukri. Iliyan had ignored all of his questions and hadn't mentioned the journey at all. He'd looked angry—or hurt.

Something must have happened. Something Emilio didn't know about. Had Iliyan been banished again? Would something happen to him if he tried to contact Emilio? But that still didn't explain why he hadn't said a word to T'ukri.

"I have to find him," he muttered to himself. Then he looked at the young warrior. "The Valley of the Condor. Do you know where it is?"

T'ukri nodded. "It's dangerous."

Yes—it still wasn't under Moche rule. But, just like Iliyan, T'ukri wasn't here of his own free will.

Emilio pointed at himself, then gestured towards T'ukri's injured leg. "I can't help you." There, at least that was out in the open. He pulled an apologetic face, fully aware that he never should have made that empty promise in the first place.

T'ukri's expression darkened slightly. "Take me with you."

Taking someone with a limp along would slow them down. On the other hand, Emilio trusted T'ukri, and he clearly knew the way. So he nodded and motioned for the young warrior to come with him.

They couldn't leave unprepared. T'ukri went to his superior and explained that the god—the ruler's husband—had given him an assignment. Before long, everyone was bustling about on their behalf.

Emilio had to make it abundantly clear that he didn't want anyone else accompanying them—he didn't trust anyone beyond the three of them. Travelling as a group of three simply seemed wiser.

He didn't see Mateo again until they left the Warriors' Quarters. The two men introduced themselves to each other, after which they set off. Despite his disability, T'ukri managed to keep up with them surprisingly well, and it quickly became apparent that he was an energetic young man who had gone far too long without his freedom.

"So you think Iliyan's headed for the Valley of the Condor? Why?"

It was the only place Emilio could think of. For some reason, Iliyan no longer believed Emilio would help him take his revenge, and he was probably planning to carry it out alone now.

"He was born there," Emilio replied. "The exiled son of the gods."

T'ukri slowed to a halt. He stared at Emilio in complete astonishment. "Iliyan is Ramún? The exiled son of the gods?"

"Ramún?" Emilio repeated, confused.

T'ukri nodded eagerly. "Everyone knows that story. The son of the gods fell in love with another young man, and it wasn't allowed. The divine couple killed his beloved and sent their son away."

Emilio's breath caught in his throat. Iliyan had loved a boy? Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Iliyan's best friend and the person he loved had been one and the same. Iliyan. How had he not made that connection? Iliyan had kept it from him—had he been afraid of how Emilio would react? Iliyan's own family had murdered the man he loved and banished him. Of course he'd been terrified of Emilio's reaction.

And he'd been right to be.

In a flash, he saw Erik again, tears streaming down his face while Emilio's hands gripped his curls, forcing him to stay where he was. Bile rose in his throat. He'd buried it all, but he wasn't any better than the asshole who'd tried to force him yesterday.

He'd wanted to humiliate Erik too. He'd enjoyed having that power over him. He hadn't thought about the consequences. Just like now. Iliyan must have been torn every single day over whether he could trust Emilio with this final secret, afraid that he too would be disgusted by his sexuality.

Once again, he saw the uncompromising look on Iliyan's face in the throne room. The words Emilio himself had spoken echoed through his mind.

"I'd rather hang myself than ever touch a man. That's disgusting."

Or worse.

"No wonder everyone hates your kind. You're all freaks."

"Oh, fuck," Emilio muttered. Defeated, he ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck."

He couldn't have hurt Iliyan more deeply if he'd tried. No wonder he'd left him to his fate.

"What? What's wrong?" Mateo grabbed him firmly by the upper arm when he didn't answer straight away. Alert, he looked around as though expecting Emilio to have spotted some kind of threat. It took Emilio a moment to realize his friend hadn't understood a word of the conversation.

Emilio didn't know how to put into words what he was feeling. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling.

Iliyan is gay.

The doubts he'd never dared to give any room resurfaced.

Am I...?

More than once, he'd caught himself wishing Iliyan were a girl. Why had he done that? Because, somewhere deep down, he'd known he had feelings for him but had instinctively pushed them aside? Because it was impossible for him to be attracted to men too after what he'd done in the past? Why had gay people always been the target of his bullying? Because he'd been trying to hide something—perhaps even more from himself than from anyone else?

Mateo's fingers were still wrapped tightly around his upper arm. Emilio remembered what he'd said to him a few hours earlier.

"Why did you say that last night?" he asked quietly. "That I thought I wasn't into men?"

Mateo frowned and glanced around once more. Then he let go and shrugged. "I dunno. I've known for years. The way you reacted when June got together with Juan. The way you watched when Erik gave me a blowjob."

The way you reacted when June got together with Juan.

That had simply been because he'd thought she was boring and his best friend had suddenly started spending all his time with her.

Hadn't it?

They'd been friends for so long...

The confusion Iliyan stirred up in him had never existed between him and Juan.

He didn't even want to think about Mateo's second argument.

He wanted to erase that entire night from his memory.

"I don't find those arguments very convincing," Emilio muttered.

"No?" Mateo raised an eyebrow. "You kissed me three years ago. Does that help?"

Emilio immediately stumbled over his own feet. Mateo caught him just before he hit the ground.

"I did what?" Emilio stared at him. "Are you fucking with me?"

Mateo shook his head. "You were completely hammered. It was at a party. We were both in the basement getting more crates of beer. You were with Jor... that was the night you two broke up. For good."

That evening was nothing but a grey blur in Emilio's memory. He could've blown up an entire building and he wouldn't remember it. "So... you punched me?" he muttered. Maybe it was for the best that he couldn't remember such a humiliating moment.

"Nah." Mateo grinned. "I kissed you back."

It just kept getting weirder. "Why?"

"Oh, why not? On nights like that I hooked up with loads of girls. One guy more or less didn't make much difference. I figured it might help you or something. With accepting yourself."

"And then you never said another word about it."

"No. When it turned out you didn't remember any of it, I left it alone." Mateo studied him intently. "Is this about Iliyan?"

Emilio felt warmth creep into his cheeks. Though they'd paused for a moment, he started walking again. "I knew his father murdered his best friend right in front of him because they weren't allowed to be friends due to the difference in status. T'ukri just told me..." He swallowed. "...that it was more than friendship. It wasn't their social class. It was... their sexuality."

"So he's gay, and I was right—you like him."

I think I do.

The words refused to leave his lips.

"Then that's a good thing, isn't it?" Mateo said. "I don't see the problem, other than the fact that you haven't exactly come out yet. Seems to me we've got bigger problems to worry about."

Emilio sighed. "When the ruler said he wanted to marry me... I got angry. I said some things that... weren't exactly supportive." That was putting it mildly. He rubbed his forehead. "I basically said people like him were a bunch of disgusting freaks. That it made sense everyone hated them. And all the while Iliyan and the man he loved belonged to that 'kind.' It must've sounded to him like I agreed with his father. Like I thought his lover deserved to die."

"Right..." Mateo grimaced. "That's rough."

That was an understatement.

"So what now?" Mateo narrowed his eyes. "We're still heading for Juan, right? Your love story is tragic and all, but I'm getting my little brother out first."

"Yeah, we're going to Juan. I think Iliyan's heading there too... to avenge the man he loved."

A new fear settled in Emilio's chest.

What if Iliyan is so hurt now that he's stopped caring how many innocent people die in his quest for revenge? What if he burns the entire valley to the ground? With Juan in it? Or with me, just to complete his revenge?

His stomach twisted.

His family betrayed him. If he thinks I've betrayed him too... will he come after me as well?

"He wants to kill his family?" Mateo's voice sounded distant.

"Maybe not just his family," Emilio said quietly. "Probably me too."