by Ryan Calejo
Lobisomem were swarming from every direction, bursting out of second-story windows, streaming out of the alleys and side streets, charging down the main road in a stampede of flying fur, glinting claws, and wickedly sharp teeth. The ground literally rumbled with the pounding of their paws.
“Oh meu Deus,” Saci whispered, which sounded a lot like “Dios mío” or “Oh my God” and pretty much summed up my feelings too.
We ran. We ran through the busy streets, dodging bodies, the werewolves right on our tails. Their snarls and howls ricocheted through my brain like Ping-Pong balls, and as their massive shadows began to overtake us, another howl pierced the night, this one horrifyingly close. I whipped my head around just as the lead wolf lunged at me, arms out, claws poised for the kill. I’d like to say I did something cool right then like a backflip or maybe a baseball slide under the wolf’s belly, but the truth was I didn’t. I just made a stupid, terrified face and raised one arm, preparing for the blow that would most likely end me.
Only it never came. Instead I felt a rush of wind, heard the clatter of hooves, and caught a glimpse of something huge as it blurred between us, a silver-white streak in the night. Somehow the lobisomem got spun around. It did a legit 360 in midair, then hit the ground with a loud smack! Before I could even begin to make sense of what had just happened, a wall of reddish-orange fire blazed down from the sky, raising a fiery curtain between us and the wolves. The flames were huge, licking up more than twenty feet into the air and billowing columns of thick black smoke.
Great tongues of fire seemed to lash at the wolves like whips. Most of them shrank back with howls of fear and dismay, but some held their ground even as the flames licked at their paws, leaving dark charred marks on the cement.
A moment later the lobisomem began retreating—dozens of them at a time. Soon only a handful remained, their burning eyes fixed on me through the boiling, roiling flames, but as the fire grew hot enough to shimmer the air and a roar that seemed to shake the earth echoed through the night, even those turned tail and ran. And that’s when I saw the source of the fire, the source of the roar. That’s when I saw who’d saved us.
CHAPTER NINETY
El Cadejo! Justo Juez!” I shouted, and could only stare, shaking my head as the divinely ordained protector of mankind, who takes the form of a great white dog, and the headless rider himself, the king of Salvadorian legends, trotted up beside us, Juez’s armored horse breathing out sizzling columns of bloodred fire. “WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING HERE?”
Helping friends, replied El Cadejo, speaking directly into my mind as he affectionately nuzzled my side with his huge furry head. His glistening white coat was unbelievably soft, almost airy, his deep azure eyes bright as starlight.
“Unless you three don’t require help,” Juez said, and I thought I could hear a smile in his voice. It was always hard to tell, with him having no head and all.…
“Oh, no—we require it!” Saci screeched. “We require it badly!”
“But how’d you even know we were here?” Violet asked, looking between them.
“You stand on Salvadorian soil, señorita. Nothing happens on this soil that I am unaware of.” The wispy column of smoke that was Justo Juez’s head snapped, crackled, and popped as he said, “The real question is, what are you doing here?”
“We’re trying to get to Joanna,” Violet said. “We think she might be up to something bad.”
“Like trying-to-raise-an-ancient-evil-necromancer-in-order-to-resurrect-her-dead-husband bad,” I pitched in.
Juez said, “¿Sabes dónde está?”
“Yeah. She’s in Mexico. In—”
Tell us no more! El Cadejo ordered. It can only jeopardize things.
“Jeopardize what things?” I started to say, but Juez cut me off.
“Charlie, Violet—you both must go to Joanna. Save her if you can. But stop her by any means necessary.”
We will find you when the time is right, said El Cadejo. But ask no more questions, for our enemy’s spies listen even now. And he must’ve seen the confusion on my face because he quickly added, Carlito, we all have our parts to play. But if you’ve trusted in us before, trust in us now.
Okay, I thought back. I trust you. Beside me, Saci began kicking around a couple of the golden grapefruit Zarate had given us, playing Hacky Sack with them. Trying to ignore him, I said, “A witch told us we had to get to Joanna tonight. Before midnight. But there’s no way we can get to Mexico that fast.”
Just then a shrill, shrieking cry split the night as a huge shape sliced through the air just inches above our heads. It snatched one of the golden grapefruit Saci was playing with out of the sky and landed a foot or two away.
It was the alicanto—our favorite gold-munching bird was back!
* * *
Juez’s smoky head flared a fiery orange. Its sizzle rang out in the night. “Divine providence! Your journey is blessed. Go now. ¡Apúrense!”
We all climbed onto the back of the alicanto, which looked like it had put on about two hundred pounds since the last time we’d seen it; the crazy bird had probably stumbled across a gold mine somewhere in Colombia.
Violet sniffed the air, made a disgusted face, then snatched Saci’s cap out of my hand and stuffed it into her backpack. “But does the alicanto know where we need to go?” she asked Juez, confused.
“Alicantos are the smartest birds in the sky. Just whisper where you want to go into its ear,” Juez said, so Violet did. Then he shouted, “Llévelos, pajarito. ¡Y no se demore!”
Our coppery-feathered friend seemed to nod at that. It craned its neck around, screeched at Saci, then gobbled up the entire basket of golden grapefruit in a single bite.
“NO! BAD BIRD!” Saci shouted back, trying to pry open the alicanto’s mouth. “Give dat back! La bruja gave dem to me!” The alicanto shoved him away with its sleek feathery head, then nuzzled my face with its beak and squawked, “Mama!”
Juez gave me a funny look—or at least it seemed like it might’ve been a funny look from the way he angled his smoky column of a head.
“Is this something I should know about?” he asked in an embarrassed voice.
CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
Soaring through the cool night sky on the back of the alicanto was easily the highlight of my day—okay, probably of my life.
I mean, sure, I’d flown before (during my battle with La Cuca), but that had been all panic and nerves and choking fear. This was something else.… This was pure, unfiltered exhilaration! Way up here, higher than even the loftiest clouds, the air was thin and freezing cold, but I’d never felt more alive. More free.
There was no race against the clock, no pressure to find Joanna—no trying to figure out who was doing what and where they were going next. There was only the tingling of my skin, the wind in my hair, and the clever flex and twitch of the alicanto’s glowing coppery wings as they tilted this way and that, effortlessly catching the thermals and rocketing us along the blue-black curvature of the earth.
I had no idea how long we flew, but it felt like forever, a lifetime of sailing across a vast, endless sky, none of us bothering to say so much as a single word—not having to—until the sun hid itself on the other side of the world and the moon rose to become a pale, shining disk before us.
Deep down inside, I wished the ride would never end, but too soon the alicanto began a steady earthward descent, and the familiar shapes of mountains and valleys, buildings, homes, and the neat little grids of streets broke through the misty cloud cover like old friends eagerly awaiting our return.
We touched down on the crest of a ring of high hills, overlooking a town that seemed to have sprung out of the mountains themselves. With all its old-school buildings and manicured gardens, the place looked like it belonged on a postcard. In fact, my mom had a San Miguel de Allende postcard.
“Dis da place?” Saci asked, sliding off the alicanto and trying to pluck one of its brownish-golden feathers as he did. The alicanto snapped at h
is hand and moved away.
“Hey, leave the bird alone,” V said; then she nudged me with her elbow and began rooting around in her backpack. A moment later she came out with Saci’s red cap, and I saw Saci’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when she handed it to him. “Almost forgot. Probably should’ve given you this back in El Salvador, but better late than never, right?”
“Wat dis for…?” he asked, confused.
“You’re free,” Violet said. “Our deal was for you to get us to El Dorado and help us find Joanna, and you pretty much held up your end, so…”
I raised one hand in a little wave. “Hasta luego, amigo.”
“Amigo?” Saci’s gaze slowly shifted from Violet to me, and I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes.… Was it joy? “You mean dat?”
“We do.” Violet put a hand on his shoulder, smiled. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“No way,” I agreed, and couldn’t believe I actually meant it. Less than seventy-two hours ago I would’ve given almost anything just to get him out of our hair, but now, after we’d been through so much together—after he’d even saved my life a couple of times—it was like we were losing a teammate… losing a friend. “Hey, and just so you know—I grew up listening to your stories. You’re, like, one of my all-time favorite myths—er, sombras. I would have asked you for your autograph, but I’m afraid where you might sign it…,” I said, sort of joking, sort of not. I watched Saci’s face slowly light up, and he suddenly looked all of five years old. There he was, this thousand-plus-year-old legend looking like a kindergartener whose buddy had just told him that he was his best friend in the entire world. He blinked at me, and it now seemed like he was fighting back tears.
“Saci so glad he prank you two…,” he said in a shaky whisper. “So glad I punk’d you…” He started to back away, hopping sideways now, maybe so we wouldn’t see him cry. “Ei, Saci see you two soon, okay?”
“Definitely,” Violet said. “Stop by Miami sometime. Like for Christmas or something.”
“Sim! I do that!” Saci said, but I thought I detected a note of sadness in his voice. “Saci be there…”
“See ya,” I said, waving, and he gave me a small, almost regretful wave back. I felt something inside me sink a little.
Next to me, Violet was smiling. Trying to, anyway. Smiling through shiny eyes. “You take care, okay?”
“Okay… And you two take care too. Jess be careful and stuff. You never know whas out there.”
“We will,” I said—
And then he was gone, hopping away down the side of the mountain.
For what felt like a long time, Violet and I both just stood there, staring after him. I tried to swallow the big lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t go down. Finally I said, “Is it weird I feel totally sad right now?”
“Little bit. Kid was a menace.”
“But he was, like, our menace.…” And now he was gone.
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
Or so I thought.
Not ten seconds later, while the two of us were still standing there, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I whirled with a scream, ready to judo chop whoever (or whatever) had snuck up on us—and saw that it was Saci, grinning from ear to ear.
“How did you…?” I started to say, pointing, suddenly really, really confused.
Violet looked almost as confused. “Forgot something?”
“Saci don’t know how to say this…,” he began, looking all shy now.
“What happened? I asked. “I was pretty sure you’d be halfway to São Paulo by now. Beaches, coconut smoothies—watching soccer on your flat-screens… remember?”
“Dat’s the thing about São Paulo this time of year… beaches kinda cold, and there’s not too much good soccer on TV, you know?”
I felt this huge, stupid smile spread across my face. “What are you trying to say?”
Saci was smiling too—smiling hard. “Saci trying to say, maybe you two come with me, huh? Let’s all go have some coconut smoothies… together.”
“We’d love to,” I said, “but we can’t. We have to help Joanna. She’s our friend too.”
Saci opened his mouth to say something, his face creasing into a frown, then closed it. “No way Saci can change you minds…?”
“We have to help her,” Violet explained, and Saci gave a frustrated sigh.
“Okay then,” he said. “If it’s like dat, den Saci wanna go with you all da way to da end. Maybe lend a helping hand.”
“You sure about that?” Violet asked, and I could hear the happiness in her voice. “Wouldn’t lending a helping hand sully that reputation of yours?”
“Saci not so worried about his reputation no more.” He grinned at me. But it wasn’t a Saci smile. It didn’t light up those brown eyes. After a moment he said, “So let’s go find this friend of yours, den.…”
CHAPTER NINETY-THREE
El Jardín was a huge cobblestone plaza lined with bustling cafés, markets, touristy shops, and about a block of outdoor restaurants. Its name means “garden” in Spanish, and it was the most famous plaza in San Miguel de Allende’s historic district. On the south side was the world-famous Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel, an old-fashioned stone church with pink spires that rose up to gleam against the black night sky. Usually the square was packed with tourists sightseeing and people-watching and street vendors offering up homemade recipes from their carts or stands, but not today. Today it was filled with the dead. Women in elegant bridal gowns and marigold crowns, their faces painted to look like calaveras. Men wearing vaquero jackets and cowboy boots. Little kids in homemade skeleton costumes and skull masks. I could see a whole bunch of them playing tag under the lollipop-shaped laurel-trees in the middle of the square. One—a little girl in a frilly black gown—was standing on a bench, gazing around and nibbling on a skull-shaped pretzel that was almost as big as her head. There were easily a couple thousand people out here. Maybe more.
“What day is it today?” I asked, frowning.
Violet looked down at her watch. “November first.”
And suddenly the realization smacked me like a soccer ball straight to the face!
“I can’t believe it…,” I said. “How could I be so stupid?”
V turned to me. “What’s wrong?
“Today is Día de los Muertos—the Day of the Dead! That’s why everyone kept mentioning the season!” Thanks to my abuela, I knew that the season when the Day of the Dead was celebrated was known as the Season of the Living; supposedly every day of that month, the boundaries between the Land of the Living and that of the dead grow thinner and thinner until the Day of the Dead, when they are at their absolute thinnest—in other words, the perfect time to resurrect an ancient necromancer. “It’s going down right now, V. She’s going to resurrect him here. Tonight!”
I could see the fear in Violet’s eyes, but she didn’t let it get the best of her. She narrowed her gaze, nodded. “Okay. So how do we find her?”
Great question. My eyes swept over the crowds, over the painted, smiling faces. The street vendors and kids. Over the mariachis playing music in the soft yellow glow of the antique street lamps. There were so many people here. How were we supposed to find her?
“Wait a sec,” I said, feeling this strange sense of déjà vu. “I’ve seen this place before.”
“What do you mean? Like, in a book?”
“Maybe.” But I didn’t think so.
Then Saci said, “Look like we come to the end of da path, irmão.… Now wha’?”
Which made me think of something Joanna had said to me—
And suddenly I remembered!
“V, Joanna’s crown! Give it to me—quick!”
She brought it out of her backpack and handed it over, and when I held it up… there it was—the exact cityscape of San Miguel de Allende carved into the band of the crown!
“But—how…?” Violet whispered.
“No idea. But I remember Joanna telling me that
when I came to the end of my path and couldn’t go any farther, to look to the crown.”
“Maybe she in da old church,” Saci guessed. “Look pretty much the same as on da crown.”
“Maybe…” My eyes drifted down the etched cityscape, and I noticed a tall, upside-down triangle, a tower of bones—no, a castell! Flipping the crown over, I realized there was a second cityscape etched into the band. But this one was upside down.
“A world… beneath the world?” Violet whispered.
Saci leaned over my shoulder to peer at the crown. “Beneath which world?”
“This one,” Violet and I answered in unison.
Glancing up at me, she said, “But how do we get down there?”
“You need a guide,” Saci told her. “Duh.”
“A guide?”
“A calaca,” I explained. Then I had to laugh as Zarate’s words now came back to me: Hasta la muerte, hasta que veas la Catrina y la Calavera te retenga en sus brazos.
It was almost as if the witch had known. But how?
“What is it?” Violet asked.
“This is her city. This is her celebration.”
“Whose?”
“La Catrina’s.”
CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR
Wait, wait. You saying La Calavera Catrina is here…?” Saci said, sounding more than a little spooked. “You sure ’bout dis, bro?”
“Pretty sure.” I mean, what better guide into the underworld than the Lady of the Dead herself?
Violet was shaking her head. “But how do we find her?”
“I don’t know. She’s definitely here, though… somewhere.” Problem was, the place was packed; everywhere I looked, crowds of people were marching giant papier-mâché skeletons through the streets. I could hear them laughing and telling stories while others sang along to the mariachi music that seemed to be coming from every direction. The square smelled of incense, baking bread, and caramel.