I hurried toward the tunnel, ten different scenarios playing out in my mind’s eye as I effortlessly navigated through them. I knew, at least, there hadn’t been an accident with the plane, or I wouldn’t have remembered the Antarctic snow.
Did they have trouble getting to the cabins?
Were we followed?
Had the scientists at the research station got too curious and tried to come investigate me?
Had my wolf gotten too powerful and—
My gut lurched. I couldn’t even finish the thought as I stepped up a massive stone staircase. Instead, I focused on the feeling under my palms, of cool stone under my feet. I climbed and climbed, feeling a slight burn in my muscles before I got to the top of the mountain, the wind whistling past me.
Machu Picchu stood due south, illuminated against the night sk
