As the thrill of inspiration subsided, a familiar melancholy returned to Josh’s heart. It vexed him, and he stared off at nothing.

Josh had spent the last three weeks in the Amazon rainforest — the first week on a boat travelling up the Amazon River and the last two weeks fighting through the jungle on foot with his horse Marble. His effort, however, had been rewarded when he’d found his goal: an ancient temple ruin.

Time and the jungle had all but reclaimed the structure, half-burying it beneath dirt and vegetation. But Josh’s keen eyes had identified it. He’d climbed up one of the temple’s sides, found a broken section of roof, and made his way in through the hole. The makeshift entryway led down into a small room that was positioned off to the side of the main temple chamber. He’d dropped down into it, then moved into the larger space.

Inside the vast, open main chamber, as big as a house inside, sunlight filtered in from a thousand cracks in the walls and roof. The air was stagnant and ancient, as if the breath of the long-dead temple goers still filled the structure. Strings of water dripped down engraved stonework, and carved sculptures adorned the walls. It was for this stone work that Josh had come all this way.

Unlike most who sought such ruins, Josh wasn’t looking for treasure. No, Josh was a sculptor. His life’s ambition and passion was to work with stone, turning it from its rough natural form into true art. He’d visited all the masterpieces in the museums of Europe countless times in his 25 years of life, but there was just something about seeing stonework long forgotten and hidden in the ancient corners of the world that sparked the inspiration in his heart. Standing in the ancient ruins where once stonework was so highly valued, breathing in the same air as those ancient masons. Josh would go to any lengths to feel that rush.

And feel that rush he had. In this main temple chamber, filled with energy and passion, he’d put chisel and hammer to the small block of stone he’d lugged around for three weeks, and transformed it into something beautiful. Two figures intertwined, a man and woman embracing, kissing deeply (for inspiration leads where it will). The piece was technically and visually brilliant. A true masterstroke.

But as Josh sat in what should have been the blissful afterglow of the throes of inspiration, he wasn’t as pleased as he thought he should have been. His heart yearned for something more, but he didn’t know what, and it vexed him.

Suddenly, a noise broke him out of his thoughts. Something was moving outside the temple near the hole in the roof. Josh drew his pistol from its shoulder holster and aimed toward the opening.

As he watched, one end of a rope was lowered from above, and along with it a pack attached to the rope. Josh recognized the pack immediately, and his eyes went wide with panic. He holstered his pistol and then frantically dusted himself off. He ran his fingers through his messy brown hair in a vain attempt to tame the chaos.

Alright, just be cool. Be cool! he thought.

Looking around in a last pass, he gasped when he remembered his sculpture. He grabbed a towel and flung it over the piece, hiding it just as a young woman came sliding down the rope.

The young woman stood in the smaller chamber, highlighted in the light from above. Her charming face glistened in the sunlight, and so too did her thick, flowing, brunette hair that cascaded off her shoulders. Her clothing was form-fitting, and, along with her gear, was all fashionably coordinated and flattering.

Josh couldn’t help but stare, and as he did, he was astonished by how clean her clothes were this deep in the jungle. How does she always look so great no matter where she is?

The woman unclipped her bag from the rope and walked into the main chamber. Her gaze quickly fell on Josh.

“Celine,” Josh said as he smiled dumbly and shifted about. “I guess I wasn’t the only one who saw those new LiDAR surveys.”

Celine walked through the ruins towards Josh with the noble poise and grace that French women so pride themselves on. She didn’t yet respond, but drew closer, her eyes never leaving him. When she reached a large stone block nearby, she sat down on it facing him and crossed her legs elegantly. Sitting with prim posture, she lit a cigarette, doing so with the attitude of a cat that stops to lick its paw in front of a cornered mouse.

“Bonjour,” she said, her accent devastatingly effective.

Hold it together, Josh thought. “How was your trip upriver?”

Celine rolled her eyes. “When will we ever move past the small talk?” she replied.

The words were harsh, but the smile she shot Josh while saying them was bewitching. Josh couldn’t help but be drawn in.

After a moment, Josh rallied and tried again. “I saw on the news a pair of golden snake bangles sold at auction for quite a bit,” Josh said. “The same bangles I recall seeing you pull out of the Heracleion ruins.”

“And I recall seeing you run away like a scared little boy,” Celine returned, with a sharp look.

“Scared?!” Josh balked. “I was the one who fought off those pirates!”

Celine smiled another irresistible smile. “Yes, you were very brave and strong against those brutes…” She paused and her smiled faded. “And then afterwards, when we were left alone, you were not so brave…”

Staring at him harshly from the corner of her eye, Celine took another drag of her cigarette.

Josh squirmed under her gaze. He could feel her frustration and disappointment.

A quiet moment passed, and then Josh spoke again, hoping to change the subject. “Anyway, I bet I can guess why you’re here. The new surveys line up well with those old conquistador journals. Somewhere around here was the last recorded sighting of the fabled Emerald Ceremonial Mask of the Kuhikugu. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Celine ashed her cigarette. “And what is it you want?”

“To sculpt, of course,” Josh said earnestly.

Celine tilted her head to the side and brushed her hair from her face. “You’ll wear your hands out if all you touch is hard stone. Sometimes you need to touch something softer.”

Josh’s breath caught in his throat.

Celine smiled and let the comment hang for several moments. She then pointed at Josh’s sculpture, which remained hidden under the towel.

“Your latest work, may I see?”

Panic filled Josh’s eyes. “No!” he exclaimed, as he moved in front of the work, shielding it.

“Why not?”

“Y-you wouldn’t like it.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’d like it just as much as you. You must be bold. Be a man and show me.”

As his brain short-circuited, Josh’s eyes fell to the floor. He stood there hesitating and silent.

Celine watched for a time, then quietly sighed. “I see,” she said as she put out her cigarette on the stone. She stood and adjusted her gear, preparing to leave. “I saw where you hitched Marble outside,” she said over her shoulder. “I gave him a carrot from my lunch. I like horses; they are honest about what they want. Adieu.”

As she started to walk off further into the temple, Josh’s heart rebelled inside him. It wouldn’t let this happen.

“Wait!” Josh shouted as he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

Celine didn’t resist, only turned in surprise. “Yes?” she said.

What am I doing! Josh thought as his brain relinquished control. He took his free hand, slid it around to Celine’s lower back, and pulled her into himself.

“Ooh,” she cooed, placing her free hand on his chest. She looked up coyly at Josh from under her long lashes.

All of Josh’s thoughts left him as he leaned down and boldly kissed her. Behind them, the towel slipped off, revealing the sculpture.