Gage retrieved the information, carried it over, and spread the pages open on the ground next to the litter. King studied the charts and his notes, looking back at the pit, then beyond.

“There,” he said, pointing. “The lower floor is full of mud . . . but the dirt washed in from . . . over there.” He struggled, wheezing and coughing, finally managed to catch his breath. “Get me up.”

With Gage’s help, King managed to gain his feet. Gage lifted one of King’s arms over his shoulder and Abby did the same on the other side. Together they helped him make it to the spot he indicated, a concave depression that hadn’t been there before the storm. Mud and debris, timbers and broken tiles littered the area, but . . .

“There!” King pointed a shaking hand, a huge grin on his face.

The glint of gold was unmistakable. “Jesus . . .” Gage climbed into the hole and sank ankle deep in the mud. So did Mateo, both of them pulling wood and debris out of the way, exposing a pile of gleaming gold bars. Abby joined them, and more gold ingots came into view.

There were stacks of them in the depression, others scattered all around. The more debris they cleared away, the more gold bars appeared.

“The Devil’s Gold,” King said with reverence from his place on the ground above the hole.

It took a lot of hard work, but when they were finished and all of the gold had been uncovered, Abby sat down beside her grandfather.

“You were right all along,” she said, taking hold of his hand.

King looked up at her, his smile wan. “You’ll tell them? You’ll show them . . . the gold?”

She leaned over and kissed his hollow, beard-roughened cheek. “I’ll tell them. Gage will tell them. We’ll make them eat their words.”

King nodded, pleased. He lay back on the ground and closed his eyes. Abby held on to his hand.

Long seconds passed. The sun came out from behind the clouds, and even the mud that clung to the gold couldn’t dull the glitter.

Gage watched as Zuma approached and knelt on the ground beside them. She checked King’s pulse, leaned over his face to see if he was still breathing. She looked at Gage and shook her head.

Zuma turned to Abby. “Go to your man,” she said. “He will look after you now. Your grandfather is gone.”

“No.” Abby’s eyes filled. She shook her head. “Not yet.” She bent over King, still holding his hand, trying to feel his breath on her face. “You can’t go yet. Do you hear me? We just found the gold.” She started crying, a rush of tears that broke Gage’s heart.

He went to her, eased her to her feet, and turned her into his arms. “You made him happy, honey. You gave him the most precious gift he’s ever received. You gave him his dream.”