Treasure of the World by Tara Sullivan (best romantic books to read txt) 📗

me. The cold from the mountain stabs up through my heels and the wind whips over the ridge and raises goose bumps on my arms and calves. I’m amazed at how real it feels because I know it’s a dream. Standing there, cold seeping up through me, wind whistling over me, I stare into the maw of the mountain and, in the way of dreams, I feel the Mountain That Eats Men inhaling and exhaling. When it sighs, the smell of dust and death washes over me and I cannot imagine that anything could be worse, until the next moment when the wind pulls around me and whistles into the black cavern and I realize the mountain is breathing me in.

I stand there, unable to move, as the mountain heaves beneath me, learning my smell.

I wake bathed in sweat and feeling more exhausted than when I fell asleep. Shaking my head to clear it, I roll out of bed. The small amount of warmth I managed to put into the alpaca-wool blankets overnight is instantly gone and my sweat chills me even more as I struggle into my shoes. As cold as it is to be awake, I’m glad to leave sleep behind.

Everyone else is still asleep—even Papi, who must have come home at some point—as I pull my thick black hair into two braids and wind them in a tight, bobby-pinned crown on top of my head. I layer on a shirt and my least-favorite sweater and pull on jeans and my heaviest pair of socks. Before anyone else wakes up, I take what I need from the house and hide it outside.

“That’s a different style for you,” comments Abuelita when she joins me while I make the morning tea. She tries to pull me into quiet conversation, but I’m having trouble shaking off my dream from last night and stay quiet. It’s almost like I can feel the slow rise and fall of the mountain under my feet even though I’m awake. Besides, of everyone, I think I’m about to upset Abuelita the most and that hurts my heart.

Through the open door I hear the unmistakable sounds of Papi waking up, and I know that I have to move now.

“Here.” I hand her a cup of tea. “Could you take this in to Daniel, please? I’ll follow in a sec with the rest of it.”

Abuelita takes the cup and heads into the house. As soon as she’s gone, I unwrap the bundle I hid around the corner of the wall. In it are Daniel’s coveralls, belt, boots, and acetylene headlamp.

Battling a hollow, gnawing feeling in my chest, I pull them on.

Beneath me, the mountain sighs.

The fight I cause with my appearance is, in some ways, more epic than the fight last night. Even Daniel props himself up on his elbows and shakes his head at me. Mami is shouting things that are so scattered and unconnected to each other that they don’t make any sense and Abuelita has gone pale and is trying to pull the uniform off me by force. Papi, for once, is sitting quietly on his stool, watching all of us fight. When he finally speaks, everyone in the room freezes.

“And what,” he says to me coldly, “do you think you’re doing in your brother’s clothes?”

Abuelita and Mami step away, leaving me alone to face the coming storm.

I swallow and force out the words I practiced.

“You said you needed to bring a kid with you to work today. Mami said that Daniel is too sick to go. You’re both right, so I’m going instead of him.”

Papi’s face darkens like a building thundercloud.

“Do you think being a miner is a joke, girl?”

I shake my head and the helmet I’ve wedged over my coiled braids jostles.

“No, sir. But I’m older than Daniel and right now I’m stronger than he is. Whatever he was able to do, I know I’ll be able to do.” I play my best card. “He can’t work with a fever and there’s no point wasting days when the price of mineral is so high.”

Papi rubs a thick hand over the lower half of his face, considering.

This is enough uncertainty that Abuelita loses it. She turns on me. “Have you not listened to a word I’ve said?” she shrieks. “La Pachamama does not allow girls into the mountain. It’s ill luck!”

“But, Abuelita,” I try to soothe her, “the tourists do it all the time. The Americans and Europeans, when they come to visit the mountain, they ask for tours of the mine and everyone lets them in, no problem. Nothing happens when those women go into the mountain. Why should something happen if I help out, just until Daniel is better?”

Abuelita is furious, but instead of answering me, she turns and yells at Papi. “No, Mauricio, absolutely not! This is ridiculous! You can’t let your daughter go into that hell hole.”

I can see at once that she has made a big mistake. Papi’s face, which had lightened in amusement to see me being yelled at by my grandmother, twists into rage at being scolded.

“Quiet!” he roars at her. “I’ll not be told what I can and can’t do under my own roof!”

Abuelita stretches her thin neck and squawks at him, angry as a wet chicken. “I’m your mother!”

“And I’m no longer a boy and you’d do well to remember it.” He’s on his feet now. “I am the man of this house! What I say goes.”

“But la Pachamama—”

“Damn the Pachamama and the devil and all the saints too while you’re at it!” he bellows. “No one quotes hocus-pocus to control me!” He looks me up and down, and I try not to flinch under his glare. “The mines are no place for a girl,” he starts, and I wilt, thinking I’ve lost. But then Papi goes on. “However, her brother is too sick to work right now, and she makes a good point that this is not a