Juan packed his bag calmly and told Stephen he was ready to go to the airport. He couldn’t drive on his own this time: the bodyguards were already on top of him and he couldn’t escape them. He was having trouble breathing, and a constant, annoying cough was growing worse as the hours passed.

Mercedes still hadn’t asked to be rescued from the tunnel. She was proud. Juan wanted to go before Florence found out about his little meeting with his mother-in-law. Gaspar was awake and dressed and sitting on the bed, waiting. Since he’d found out they were flying back he’d been excited but quiet, nervous. You’re scared, ha ha, Gaspar is afraid the plane will crash, Juan had teased him, and his son had hit him with his fists, pretending to be mad.

Juan crossed the inner yard and the veranda to Marcelina’s house. He thanked her for taking care of Gaspar and rummaged in his leather bag to find a necklace that he’d bought on a whim for Tali in the ostentatious hotel casino in Corrientes, but that he’d ultimately decided she wouldn’t like much. They were hard stones from the Wanda mines, near Iguazú. The gems—blue, white, pink, green, purple—were strung together, and the necklace could be worn by looping it several times or simply letting it hang long. Marcelina was moved and tried halfheartedly to refuse the gift, but Juan put the necklace carefully around her neck, trying not to tangle the stones in her hair. It looks lovely on you, he told her. I hope you enjoy it. Marcelina fingered the stones, then reached into her front apron pocket and pulled out a caburé feather.

“For the little one,” she said.

Juan accepted the talisman on behalf of Gaspar. Then he asked Marcelina for her permission to take the things Rosario had left in her care. Marcelina ushered him into the room where she stored old junk. Juan searched until he found the box with the symbol discreetly drawn on one end. He opened it and found a plastic bag inside, an innocent grocery bag. He smiled when he saw what it contained. How smart to leave the relic with Marcelina. It was safer, even, than hiding it in Tali’s temple. The Order would never have searched the belongings of a servant, not even one in Rosario’s confidence.

Tali was waiting for him outside Puerto Reyes, leaning against his car. He kissed her, taking her face in his hands. On tiptoe, she sank her fingers into his hair.

“Damn, you’re kissing me like it was the last time. You still have to come by the house to pick up the relic of Rosario’s you left with me.”

Juan shook his head.

“It’s yours. Use it. She could give you a sign.”

Tali’s dark eyes studied him.