He had to venture into the shadiest areas of the Lima docklands to find out what happened to his father, so you’d think that would be enough of that sort of thing for one man.
That’s what people said.
But then, perhaps they didn’t know Alexis Hukman very well or understand how deeply he had been affected by that interesting woman of whom the fortune teller had spoken.
If he’d never met her though, the remarkable Gemma Galway, he would have had such a very different life. But he had gone into the forest with her, built a shelter, studied the wildlife, fished with her, swum with her – and danced with her. It had happened. So there he was. Such was his lot. There he was.
That fortune teller didn’t say anything about finding her and then losing her, though. And she didn’t mention the uprising in the mountains either. Maybe because she didn’t know much about it then – like himself. Later she did, though. She knew plenty. Just like he did. But only one of them, perhaps, would live to tell.
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