Prologue, part 2. Peru

But faster than anything else, she began to run. She no longer cared about the tiles, the darts shooting toward her, or even the terrified and furious man ahead of her. Now it was a matter of life and death.

“Look what you’ve done!” the man shouted. “Never let a girl do a man’s job.”

“Shut up and run!” Bella yelled back.

He ran beside her, but he was faster. He grabbed the whip still tied to the log and swung across the abyss. But the whip came loose from the trunk.

Ahead of them, a massive stone door slowly descended.

“Quick! Throw me the whip!” Bella shouted.

“Throw me the idol, and I’ll throw you the whip!” he shouted back.

She hesitated.

“Hurry!” Satipo screamed. “We don’t have time!”

There was no choice.

She threw him the idol.

Satipo caught it, looked at her, and then tossed the whip onto the ground.

“Goodbye, fake woman.”

Then he disappeared.

Satipo probably knew her secret. But who had told him? Right now it didn’t matter. All she wanted was to get out alive.

She backed away, then ran and jumped.

Too short.

A log blocked her path, and she ended up dangling from the edge of the abyss. She tried pulling herself up, but the stones crumbled beneath her fingers, making her torment even worse.

She reached for a patch of grass nearby. It tore free instantly.

Bella looked up at the descending stone door and suddenly felt the urge to give up. To surrender. To die. To let herself fall into the abyss and allow the darkness to swallow her whole.

No.

She had to fight.

She had suffered too much to become who she was. She had lost family, lost friends, fought for identity, for space, for the right to exist as herself.

She strained, kicked, clawed, forcing herself to keep fighting. Her black skirt was filthy with dirt, her shirt torn, her jacket completely stained with mud.

Little by little, she dragged herself out of the abyss.

She grabbed the whip and, in the very last moment, escaped beneath the closing stone door.

At last, Bella allowed herself to breathe.

She stood up, brushing dust from her clothes.

Ahead of her, a body hung against the wall.

She stepped closer.

Satipo had been caught in a spike trap. Spears had pierced his head, chest, and groin. He had died instantly.

The idol stared at her from the ground, almost seeming to smile.

“Hello again, my friend,” she said softly, kneeling to pick up the idol. “Good to see you again.”

Bella glanced at Satipo, gave him a mocking little bow, and walked away.

“Goodbye, idiot. Fake man.”

She had barely taken a few steps when she heard the sound of something enormous rolling behind her.

Her instincts screamed run, but she looked back.

A gigantic boulder, carved into a near-perfect sphere, thundered toward her, ready to crush her into paste.

Bella ran as fast as she could with the stone roaring behind her.

She saw the cave entrance and leapt forward.

A deafening crash echoed behind her as the boulder sealed the temple forever, burying Forrestal, Satipo, and anyone else foolish enough to venture into those caves.

Bella wanted a bath, a good book, and a cup of hot chocolate.

But the day wasn’t over yet.

Covered in spiderwebs, smelling of decay and mold, she looked down at herself until she noticed an arrow pointed directly at her.

She raised her eyes.

The Hovitos were there—the warrior tribe of the upper Amazon.

Beside them stood a tall man dressed in white shirt and shorts, his expression severe and mocking.

“You really need to choose your companions more carefully, Bella,” he said, staring directly at her.

“Belloq,” Bella muttered.

“And look at that. Just like every other time, what belongs to you now belongs to me.”

He extended his hand.

Bella reached instinctively toward her gun, but the natives immediately aimed their blowguns and arrows more aggressively at her.

Slowly, she handed over the weapon.

Barranca was there too, smiling.

Then his smile vanished.

A second later he collapsed, his back pierced by countless poisoned darts.

“Betrayal always follows you wherever you go, doesn’t it, Bella?” Belloq said coldly. “For a woman, you really should be smarter. Though perhaps that’s because you aren’t really a woman at all—just a man pretending to be one.”

This time Bella felt genuine rage.

Somehow, Belloq knew her secret.

Bella was a trans woman, but she hid it from society and from everyone around her. Women like her were not accepted in the early twentieth century. People like Bella could easily be beaten—or killed—because of prejudice.

Belloq had discovered her secret after trying to kiss her one day and touch places he shouldn’t have. She had given him the punishment he deserved.

“And now,” he continued with contempt, “you’re going to pay for your mistake.”

He stretched out his hand again.

He wanted the idol.

Bella had no choice. He was going to kill her either way.

Reluctantly, she handed over the idol.

Belloq raised the golden relic high above his head, and all the natives knelt in worship.

Bella seized the opportunity and ran.

She could hear arrows and darts slicing through the air behind her, but she didn’t stop.

She sprinted toward the river.

She desperately wanted to escape. She wanted to go home.

Even without the idol, she would find a way to take it back.

She reached the riverbank.

Her pilot was there, fishing.

“Jock! Start the plane!” she shouted.

Jock seemed reluctant to abandon his fishing rod. He looked like he had finally caught something.

“Come on, Jock! Start the damn plane!”

Bella threw herself into the water.

Arrows splashed down all around her.

She tried to dive, but one arrow struck her leg, drawing blood. Fighting through the pain, she swam toward the aircraft, which was already beginning to move.

She climbed onto the float and dragged herself into the passenger compartment.

Pain. Frustration. Anger.

She wanted to relax. She wanted her bathtub and her hot chocolate.

As the plane lifted into the sky, the wind against her face finally made her feel safe.

Bella closed her eyes, hoping to sleep for a little while.

Then something moved in her lap.

She touched something cold, slimy, and soft.

Her heart nearly stopped when she opened her eyes.

“Jock! There’s a snake on the plane!” she screamed.

The snake seemed perfectly content slithering across her black skirt.

“Oh, that’s Reggie,” Jock replied casually. “My pet snake.”

“Jock, you know I’m terrified of snakes.”

“I know. Here, give her to me.”

He took the snake from her hands.

Bella liked Jock. Of all the men she knew, he was one of the few who truly respected her.

Finally, she relaxed, feeling the wind through her curly hair, breathing in the fresh air, and savoring the comforting sensation of finally going home.

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