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her. ‘We could, though,’ she pressed.

‘I don’t think it would end well. What if they shot you with a poison dart or something?’

‘Oh that is just offensive!’ Tara protested. ‘This isn’t . . . Pocahontas!’

‘You’re the one talking about kidnapping a sick kid.’

They smiled at one another, appreciating each other’s dark humour. It had seen them through some hard times.

‘Jed said the leaf sap the Awa’s using is just a . . . backup remedy,’ Tara murmured.

‘To what? Tea-leaf reading?’

‘Oh no, better! There’s another leaf, apparently. A magical, mystical, unicorn leaf that only grows on a sacred mountainside two days’ travel from here.’

Holly rolled her eyes. ‘That’s helpful. So when the kid dies, he can say it was because he didn’t have the right kind of leaves?’

‘Mmm,’ Tara murmured, staring out at the horizon. She ran a hand across her forehead again. ‘It’s funny, though. He’s given me some tincture that’s really worked on my headache.’

‘Huh?’ Holly lifted a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Really?’ She knew better than anyone how Tara suffered with them.

‘Seriously. This morning, before we left, I had to drink something gross – I don’t even know what it was – but it’s really done the trick.’

‘Why would you drink something gross when you didn’t know what it was? Don’t you know anything?’ Holly scolded. ‘Did you accept sweets from strangers too when you were a little kid? He could have been poisoning you.’

‘I was being polite.’

Holly groaned. ‘You and your sodding manners.’

Tara smiled, but gave a small shiver as an old joke resurfaced from the depths of her memory, tiptoeing across her mind and leaving little scorch marks. ‘. . . Anyway, it’s just a coincidence.’

‘Well, of course it is! Don’t start going all voodoo on me now, girl.’

‘Mmm,’ Tara hummed. But it occurred to her now . . . she hadn’t actually told the Awa about her headaches. Not a word. Nor about the child who had died, either. And yet somehow he had known both . . . And her headache, as much a part of her as her own shadow, was now gone. Gone after the drink . . .

‘Just suppose for a moment . . .’ Tara narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. ‘Bear with me here – but just suppose there was something in it.’

Holly laughed. ‘No.’

‘I mean, I know it’s highly unlikely. Of course.’

‘Yes.’

‘But us refusing to even admit to the possibility that this stuff might work . . . how is that any different to Sarita refusing to concede that our medicine might work?’

Holly shot her a stern look. ‘Because we have science on our side. Provable, traceable fact.’

‘Yes. But she doesn’t know that. And for all we know, this shaman’s got a complete history of all the people he’s saved and how, too. Do you remember at Imperial? They told us Lamb’s Ear used to be used as a battlefield wound dressing. And that it helps with sore throats and fevers too. That’s not a million miles away from what he’s suggesting.’

‘Antibiotic properties are one thing, but you can’t cure hepatitis with leaves,’ Holly refuted.

Tara squinted, thinking more deeply as an idea came to her. ‘But if we were to meet in the middle, agree to pursue each other’s point of view . . .’ Tara’s voice trailed off as the thought began to acquire shape, heft.

‘You’ve lost me.’

Tara’s eyes widened. ‘We could strike a deal. I get the mystical magical unicorn leaf from the sacred mountains and bring it back for the Awa to use, on the condition that when it fails – because of course it will – Sarita agrees to let us move Paco to San José for treatment.’

Holly stared at her. ‘That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard in my life.’

‘Do you have any better ideas?’ Tara spread her hands wide.

‘Don’t be daft!’

‘If we can’t make her believe us, then we’ll go with what she believes, on the understanding there’s our plan as the backup for when it all goes wrong. It’s a no-lose situation as far as I can see.’

‘Not for her, maybe. But that poor boy spends another four days slowly dying whilst you trek through the mountains and back.’

‘I’m sure when it comes down to it that there’s a quicker way,’ Tara said with a sniff. ‘We could get a helicopter in.’

‘Helicopters can’t land around here, in case you hadn’t noticed.’ Holly waved her hand around idly. ‘Trees. Lots and lots of trees.’

‘We could—’

‘What? Parachute out?’ Holly laughed. ‘Descend ropes, SAS-style? Please.’

‘Fine. Well, even if it is two days of walking—’

‘Each way.’

‘Each way, yes. Then at least there would be some definitive action five days from now. But if we just do nothing, then nothing will ever be done and he’ll still be on that mattress two years from now.’

Holly gave a derisive snort. ‘He’ll be dead long before then.’

‘Exactly.’ Tara stared intently at her friend.

They were quiet for a moment, before Holly shuffled back under her scrutiny. ‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘I want you to tell me it’s a good idea.’

‘No. It’s the maddest bloody idea I’ve ever heard! And don’t think you’re roping me into it. I’m here on holiday with my family.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of dragging you into it.’

‘Well, you can’t bloody go on your own!’ Holly argued, contradicting herself.

‘I know. Jed can go with me.’

‘Hang on a minute, why can’t Jed just go on his own?’ Holly frowned. ‘It’s his kid.’

‘Because apparently the leaves have to be picked by a woman. At dusk.’ She watched as Holly’s eyebrows shrugged up in confoundment. ‘I know, don’t . . . I can’t even . . .’

‘So then why doesn’t the mother go?’

‘Because she has an eight-month-old baby and two other kids to look after. She can’t just disappear into the hills for four days.’

Holly tutted, resting her elbows on her knees and blowing out through her cheeks. ‘Rory will hit the bloody roof when he hears this.’

‘He’s a doctor. He’ll understand.’ Tara glanced back towards the red hut. ‘Although he’s so sparko in there, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sleeps right through it.’ She looked back at Holly, chewing intently on her lip. ‘I think I should go and present the deal to Jed.’ She

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