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" La gente habla , Vlad. Rumors of your slaughter travelled all around the region. I wouldn't be surprised if people at the other side of the country speak about el Supay con suscuchillos. "

Leaning back in the car, I push my sunglasses up my nose. The heat is almost unbearable for someone used to New York winters, and I'm having a hard time concentrating on Joaquin's ramblings.

"I suppose it is to be expected that something unusual would make the superstitious talk." I allow, knowing that I hadn't made a good impression here.

"Unusual?" Joaquin scoffs, "They call you el demonio , Vlad. For them, you are the epitome of evil. No shaman will want to work with you," he says resolutely.

"And miss banishing el demonio de mi ? I doubt there's not one shaman in this entire Amazonian basin that's not remotely curious about me," I fire back, a little too confidently.

After all, I'd had an inkling that my reputation might prove to be an impediment.

Still, these people pride themselves on their spiritual power, and wouldn't it be grand indeed if they could vanquish the very devil?

"I said it's hard. Not impossible. There is one…" he trails off.

"Great, there we go," I exclaim, ready to meet this person and be done with it.

I'm not necessarily sure anything will work at this point, but I can't say that until I've tried absolutely everything. It's a promise I made to myself. If I want to be worthy of Sisi, then I need to do everything in my power to save myself.

"A little problem." Joaquin coughs in his fist, looking a little guilty.

"What?"

"He's not… normal," he says sheepishly.

"Wonderful, since I'm not normal either."

"It's not that. It's just that… he's a recluse and rarely performs ceremonies for outsiders," he continues.

"Then we go to another one." I almost roll my eyes at him. Can't he see I'm in a hurry. The faster I see this shaman and I get my issues under control, the faster I can have Sisi back into my arms.

"Vlad," he sighs, exasperated. "There is no other.

I told you. No one wants to work with you.

Todos creen que estás lleno de energía negativa.

Nadie quiere trabajar contigo. Ni siquiera quieren acercarse a ti.

Solo queda El Viejo, " he speaks fast, and I have to force myself to keep up with his Spanish.

"Fine. What do I need to do to convince this viejo to take me in?"

"He'll decide when he sees you. He's…" Joaquin shakes his head. "He may be a recluse, but that's because he's too powerful. He sees what others do not and it is too overwhelming for him."

"Let us go there, then. I told you on the phone. I'm in a hurry."

" Estas cosas no se apuran , Vlad," he chides, "El viejo will tell you more, and he will decide whether to take you on or not." His tone tells me arguing would be in vain. So I just nod and we continue to the hotel.

A change of clothes, a backpack well packed with enough resources for a few days, and we are ready to start on the trip the following morning.

In the meantime I find more intriguing facts about this shaman that everyone calls El viejo. One of the most powerful shamans in Peru, he is one of the few ones reputed to be able to see both the human and the spirit dimensions.

Of course, I try my hardest not to snort every time Joaquin starts gushing about his prowess.

"He'll see right through your skepticism," he tells me as we begin our journey.

"You of all people should know I'm not doing this because I believe in it. It's simply my last resort."

"Then we might be making this journey in vain. El viejo will know. And this treatment is only for those who feel the calling." He grunts, clearly unimpressed with my lack of understanding for their tradition.

"You know I mean no disrespect, Joaquin," I address him in a playful tone, "but I'm a man of science. Surely you can see how these claims look from my end."

"And yet you're here, seeking to benefit from those claims."

"Trial and error, nothing else," I smile, "I'm merely testing the validity, even though the science behind it is flimsy at best."

"There are chemical agents in these plants that have been shown to help with disorders of the psychiatric realm," he replies.

"I agree. But there's a big difference between some benefits and life-changing moments, as some profess."

"Then you'll just have to see." He shrugs. "And judge for yourself whether it will be life-changing or not."

Starting from Manu, we have to venture off the beaten path deep into the rainforest. According to Joaquin, El viejo' s dwelling is somewhere close to the border with Brazil.

The journey should take us a couple of days with a few stops in between.

The moisture in the air makes it hard to breathe, the direct heat from the sun messing with my senses. Joaquin is used to the weather, and to venturing into the rainforest, so for him it's a piece of cake.

We walk for close to ten hours, and Joaquin becomes increasingly more good natured as he starts interacting with the wildlife, telling me stories and facts about each animal.

I chose him well.

As expected, as a former ranger, he is very familiar with the area and with the dangers.

When the sun goes down, we finally take a break, making camp next to a huge kapok tree.

"Why now?" Joaquin asks as we sit around a small fire, roasting some meat we'd brought with us. "I've known you for years, Vlad, and you've never given any indication that you'd want to change."

"Different circumstances." I shrug.

Joaquin had been the first one to suggest seeking a shaman for my issues, citing a disconnect between my heart and my psyche as the main reason for my attacks.

I'd disagreed, after all my heart is merely an organ that pumps blood.

Nothing more, nothing less. Yes, it keeps me alive, but it does not dictate anything else.

I may have been wrong, though.

I'd never understood before the meaning of heartache, or heartbreak, or anything relating to the heart. Why would a perfectly healthy organ hurt? Biologically the only explanation would be an incoming heart attack, or a heart ailment of sorts.

But now…

I close my eyes and I see Sisi, her entire body covered in bruises and bite marks, blood pouring from her wounds. She'd looked beaten and on the verge of passing out.

And for the first time my heart had hurt.

Like a fissure slowly starting from one end and reaching the other, I'd felt a bolt of lightning go through that organ that's only supposed to pump blood. My chest had suddenly felt heavy, and I'd had a hard time breathing.

Heartache .