Juan took his now-dry shirt from the branch where he'd hung it earlier that day. It was frayed, full of tears and stains. The river water hadn't exactly made it any cleaner. And yet... he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. It was one of the last remnants of his old life. Although his Western clothes made him stand out, people noticed him because of his build anyway. As long as he could, he wanted to keep wearing his own clothes. If he stopped, it would feel as though he were giving up on ever returning. As though he were accepting a life here.

Hopefully he'd hear something from Emilio soon. He noticed the hopelessness creeping up on him more and more often. He needed a purpose, something to work towards. Something to hold on to.

A week after they had arrived in the Valley of the Condor, one of the valley's spies had returned to the Moche capital. Juan had entrusted him with a letter, asking him to give it to Emilio when he returned.

By now, almost a month had passed. He had no idea how long the spy would remain in the Valley of the Jaguar. Probably until something happened that the leaders of this valley needed to know about.

A queasy feeling settled in his stomach as he thought back to the confrontation with Santui and his parents in the throne room. He'd made a complete fool of himself, freezing up after one mocking remark from Si's fiancé. They hadn't been impressed by him in the slightest and hadn't even seemed to consider the gun a real threat.

Although Juan had been offered a place in the Godhouse, he hadn't wanted to stay there. He hadn't felt safe, knowing he'd spend every night lying awake, afraid that Santui would bury a knife in his chest. He didn't trust that guy one bit. Even though he'd shared his concerns with Si, it hadn't changed her determination to marry him. She had to, she'd said. For the sake of her little sisters.

So far, however, the ruling family hadn't made a single move to organise a rescue attempt. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were simply stringing her along, postponing their promise again and again.

Juan returned to the adobe building where he slept alongside Sawa, Tunupa and at least fifty others. There was no furniture inside; it served no purpose other than providing shelter for the night. Part of the roof had collapsed during a storm a few days earlier. Juan had joined the others in cutting reeds and carrying the bundles back so the building could be repaired. He'd been glad to make himself useful, because sitting around all day made him unbearably restless.

On his way back, he passed several groups of warriors engaged in training. He quickly looked away, trying not to dwell on the fact that he was living in a place preparing for war.

He didn't bother learning how to fight. He'd be hopeless at it anyway. The moment they came under attack, he'd probably have a panic attack, and that would be the end of him. Sometimes all it took was a cry of pain or the sound of a body hitting the ground to drag him straight back to that stretch of sand where James had been struck down by a spear. Even now, his vision darkened to a deep crimson.

He blinked rapidly and started counting his steps.

One, two, three, four...

He reached eight hundred and twenty-four by the time he arrived at the sleeping quarters. There he found Tunupa, sitting in the shade against the outer wall, staring ahead with a grim expression. At last, he really did seem to be improving. More than once, Juan had been convinced the man wouldn't survive, but every time things looked hopeless, he'd somehow pulled through, and by now the blood poisoning was gone.

How they'd managed that without antibiotics remained a mystery to him. It had to have been the medicinal herbs the healer had used—though Si insisted it was because of the offerings she'd made: a bird she'd bought at the market and a golden bracelet. Since the ritual had meant so much to her, Juan had given up the small pair of binoculars he'd found at the bottom of his backpack.

When we get back, that'll probably be the archaeological discovery of the century, he thought, shaking his head.

He lowered himself onto the ground beside Tunupa. "How are you feeling today?"

Tunupa glanced down at his hands. Several of his fingers were still crooked, and the skin remained swollen and red in places. "I'm getting better at moving them," he said. "Though it never happens without pain."

Juan bit the inside of his cheek. What a nightmare, having to live with that for the rest of your life... Without surgery, those injuries would never heal properly.

"This morning I managed to finish half my bowl on my own. That was a big step forward."

Juan offered him an encouraging smile. "You'll get there eventually."

Tunupa nodded slowly and let out a long sigh. "Yes... eventually."

Days passed. Juan grew more and more restless. As evening fell, he wandered along the riverbank, skipping stones across the water and listening to the endless drone of cicadas and crickets. It felt as though some restless creature had taken up residence in his stomach. Even the usually peaceful sight of the river did nothing to calm it.

Back home, he used to go to the East River whenever he needed to clear his head, whenever he felt a panic attack threatening to take hold. In a busy place like Queens, it wasn't always easy to escape the constant bustle, but beneath the Queensboro Bridge there had been a spot where hardly anyone ever came. He'd spent countless hours there—sometimes alone, sometimes with his brother, sometimes with Emilio. Later, with June as well. Leaning against him, she'd sketch the view while the distant hum of traffic overhead and the ceaseless flow of the river always helped ground him in the present.

Juan wasn't sure he wanted to be grounded in the present.

It felt as though thin cords had been tied around his ankles, keeping him from drifting away. Every week that passed without Emilio showing up, another one snapped. If the last one broke... would he break too? Would he finally give up?

Because he didn't want to build a life here.

Not if Si was going to marry that bastard, forget all about him, and leave him with nothing but the daily wish that he were back in his own world.

Juan snorted at his own miserable thoughts. God, you're pathetic. Come up with a plan. Do something for once instead of always waiting for someone else to solve your problems.

He pressed his lips together. But what could he do? If he refused to accept a life here, he had to return to the capital. Maybe he could strike a deal with the ruler. Maybe the man would let him leave through the portal if Juan gave him something valuable in return. Information, perhaps... about the rebels?

Bile rose into his throat. Yeah? Are you really that selfish? Are you willing to betray all these people just so you can go home? Wouldn't that make you exactly like James, who brought you here hoping to profit from it himself? Well, you saw how that turned out. If karma exists, the ruler would probably slit your throat instead. At least then he'd know for certain you'd never come back.

"Hey."

A soft voice pulled him from his thoughts, followed by the touch of a small hand on his arm.

It was Sawa.

"Are you having those dark thoughts again?"

He sighed. "Yeah. Nothing new. Not knowing what's happened to Emilio, being terrified I might never get home... all this waiting is driving me insane. And now Si's going to marry that pig as well. She deserves so much better."

That bastard had betrayed his own brother.

Juan couldn't even begin to understand something like that. His own brother meant everything to him, and he'd do almost anything to see him again.

Even betray this entire valley, he had to admit to himself with some shame.

And if Santui really had gotten rid of his own brother... why wouldn't he get rid of his wife someday too, once he no longer found her beautiful? Maybe he'd accuse her of some terrible crime and have her banished.

"You know the future, don't you?" Juan asked. "Is he going to hurt her?"

"I don't know everyone's future. If people follow the path they're meant to follow, she'll end up with someone who truly loves her."

The way Sawa looked at him sent a shiver down his spine.

Am I that someone?

There was something strangely knowing about her gaze.

"How does it actually work?" he asked as they began strolling upstream along the riverbank. "This... predicting the future of yours? Do you get... visions?"

Sawa didn't answer straight away. She walked beside him with her eyes fixed on the ground.

Juan was already about to let out an irritated sigh because she was refusing to answer yet another question that mattered to him, when she finally spoke.

"Some things are told to me. By someone who's already lived this life once before."

"Huh?"

Sawa bit her lip. "I'm not allowed to tell you too much. It could seriously disrupt the course of events."

The course of events.

That wasn't the way a child spoke.

She had to be repeating someone else's words.

"Then how do you know this person?" he asked. "It's completely irresponsible to let a child wander around here." He frowned. "With a gun, no less. What kind of lunatic does something like that? Si told me your parents don't remember you anymore. Is that why you're carrying out these assignments? Did someone capture them? Are you being forced?"

"I'm not being forced. I'm here to help."

"Help who? Si?"

"Everyone."

Juan rubbed a hand across his face in frustration. "Help with what? Why is it so important that Emilio and I ended up here?"

She remained silent, turning her face away.

"I'm sorry," she said at last. "I can't tell you. Knowing the future can influence the choices you make."

"Is that what that woman told you? The same one who sent James here?"

Sawa nodded. "Yes. She planned everything very carefully."

Juan shook his head in disbelief. "So everything depends on the choices Emilio and I make, but you're not going to tell us which choices we're supposed to make. Great. Just great. And what happens if we make the wrong ones anyway? Your entire people die out?"

"Yes."

The answer hit him like a punch to the gut.

"But we accounted for that. We have a backup plan. With our current plan..." She lowered her eyes. "...the least blood has to be spilled."

The least blood.

It felt as though bloodshed was all he'd seen since arriving here.

Whoever Sawa's mysterious benefactor was...

She had to be insane.

Changing the timeline.

Preventing an entire people from going extinct...

Juan had seen enough films about time travel to know how those stories usually ended. Nine times out of ten, the timeline couldn't truly be changed. No matter how hard people tried, the same events always happened in the end—just by different means.

And because some deranged woman believed that Emilio and he could change history...

...he was now trapped among a people heading straight for their destruction.