Charlie Hernández & the League of Shadows

by Ryan Calejo

  I blinked at him. “So you don’t think it’s . . . weird?”

  If possible, Alvin’s eyes grew even wider. “Weird? Are you friggin’ nuts? This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

  “Uh, happened to you?”

  He made a silly face. “You know what I mean. . . .”

  “I do.” I smiled.

  “How long have you been like this, man . . . ?”

  “Couple months now.”

  “Really? And why the heck didn’t you say anything?” he burst out.

  “I dunno. . . . I guess I thought you’d think I was a monster or something. I thought you wouldn’t wanna hang out with me anymore.”

  He gaped at me like I’d just spoken the stupidest words ever uttered on planet Earth. “Bro, we’re best friends. Hermanos. I wouldn’t stop hanging out with you even if you grew a coat of fur, changed your name to Fido, and started chasing your own tail. Plus, do you have any idea how many records this can help us sell? We’ll be the only band with a flying guitarist, like, ever! I can finally drop out of middle school!”

  Yep. Typical Alvin. Always looking for an angle. Rubbing a spot of pain on my forehead, I glanced around at all the kids milling around. “Dude, who are all these people?”

  Alvin shrugged. “How the heck should I know?”

  “Charlie!”

  I turned toward the voice. “Violet!” I was so happy to see her, so unbelievably relieved that she was up and moving and not lying dead and poisoned on the floor somewhere, that my heart almost exploded inside my chest. I scrambled out of the crater, and we ran straight at each other like one of those corny romance movies, except that instead of one of those spinning slo-mo hugs, we crashed together so hard we nearly went flying in opposite directions.

  “You’re okay!” I shouted.

  “Yeah!” Her eyes were bright blue and shining. Man, it was great to see her breathing again! “And you? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.” I took a breath. Tried to slow my racing heart. “I got her, V. . . . I got the witch.”

  As soon as I spoke the words, I felt this enormous invisible weight lift off me. I could hardly believe it, but it was true. I’d defeated La Cuca. I’d defeated her and saved everyone I cared about. Dang, that felt good to know!

  “Yeah, you saved us, Charlie!” Violet said, giving me one of her million-watt smiles. It was a smile that I didn’t want to go a day without seeing. Not a single freakin’ day!

  I had just opened my mouth, planning to say one thing, then frowned, remembering something else.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I . . . I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For earlier. For all that stupid stuff I said.”

  “Charlie, forget it. You had a lot going on. I get it. It’s okay.”

  “But it’s not okay! I acted like a total idiota. You didn’t deserve that. The truth is you’re, like, one of the best and most loyal people I’ve ever met; I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. . . .” And I meant it; she was awesome, and it felt great to get that off my chest.

  Violet was still smiling, but I could tell she was fighting back tears now. “Think you might be giving me a little too much credit. . . .”

  I took one of her hands. “Nah, it’s true. You were always there for me, Violet. And you never judged me. No matter how weird I got. You made me feel normal.” Which in itself was pretty incredible. And if I had to bet, I’d say it was how quickly and easily she had accepted me that had helped me—eventually—start to accept myself. I owed her a lot.

  Violet squeezed my hand. “Well, that’s what friends are for . . . or should I say, pedal partners.” Our eyes held for a long moment, and when I didn’t say anything, her cheeks turned the color of the inside of a guava fruit, and she gave a little shrug. “What? You don’t want to be my pedal partner anymore?”

  That made me laugh. “Of course, I do,” I said. Then I held out my pinky in the classic pinky-swear pose, and Violet hooked hers around mine.

  “Pedal partners for life,” she said, smiling bigger now, brighter.

  And I was smiling too, as I squeezed her finger. “Pedal partners for life.”

  “Oh, and in case you’re wondering who got the poison out of me . . .” She nodded back over her shoulder. “See anyone familiar?”

  Squinting against the thick shafts of sunlight pouring in throught a ripped-open section of roof, I scanned the crowd and saw a tall, slim lady in a neat business suit making a beeline straight for us. “Queen Joanna!” I shouted. “What are you doing here?”

  “Ah, ah, ah,” she said, wagging a finger at me. “It’s Presidenta Joanna. . . . We wouldn’t want to confuse anyone.”

  And just like that I recognized her—again! She was the current president of Spain! The first female ever elected to that office. I knew I’d seen her before!

  “And I’m not here in an official capacity,” she informed us, “so let’s try to keep it on the down low, as you kids might say.”

  Flanking her were two Secret Service–looking dudes in dark sunglasses, dark baseball caps, and even darker suits that had these sort of cool hoods. One of the guys was so huge it was almost ridiculous. Probably a retired NBA player, I thought. Except I didn’t think even basketball players grew that tall. Then I caught a glimpse of a brown, leathery face peering out at me from beneath the bill of the cap and realized it wasn’t just any old bodyguard type—it was Juan the basajaun!

  Dang, I thought, the guy really is super talented at going incognito! Especially for someone of his overall size . . . and hairiness.

  Behind him, kids were still streaming drowsily down the stairs and into the living room. The place was so packed, it reminded me of the Youth Fair on opening night.

  “Certainly more of them than I’d expected,” the queen said, glancing back over her shoulder.

  “Joanna, who are all these people . . . ?” I had to ask.

  “They’re my sister’s victims,” she explained. “The ones she turned into dolls, anyway.” Which explained the boxes and boxes of toys.

  “Your sister, huh?”

  Off my not-so-pleased look, she smiled and said, “We all have family members we’re less than fond of. . . .”

  Which I guess was true for most people. Except that most people didn’t have proud, twice-cursed brujas with the nasty habit of kidnapping little kids in their family trees. “Espérate,” I said, holding up my hands like a traffic cop. “So that giant doll collection of hers was actually all real people . . . ?”

  “Sí, sí. In fact, it’s quite a common practice in our culture for misbehaving children and naughty pets. Sort of a minor punishment. Like a time-out.”

  More like cruel and unusual. And now I felt really creeped out thinking back to one bored afternoon when the power had gone out and I’d spent, like, an hour or two fooling around with them, picking some up and making them dance and play-fight like I used to do with my action figures. I hoped whoever they were didn’t remember. Or hold a grudge.

  “But wait,” I said as it hit me. “So then where are my pa—”

  “Charlie!”

  I looked to my left—and my entire world stopped.

  “Mami! Papi!”

  Instantly, my parents broke away from the crowds and ran to me.

  “¡Mi hijo!” my mom shouted as she scooped me up in her arms. Her hug was crushing, squeezing every last ounce of air out of my lungs, but I didn’t care. I squeezed her back, looking up at my dad as he wrapped his arms around both of us and began rocking back and forth.

  Suddenly a flood of tears that had been building up for almost two months started pouring down my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. . . . I didn’t want to help it.

  My mom sucked in a shaky breath as she ran her hand through my hair. My dad started crying. “We missed you so much,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine. His entire body was trembling. His hands were as big and calloused as I remembered. “We missed you so, so much. . .
.”

  “I missed you guys too,” I said. My voice wobbled like a busted tire, and now my mom was crying too. So was Violet. Even Alvin had teared up a bit.

  So many different emotions were racing through me, I could hardly take it. Love. Joy. Relief. Happiness. My body felt impossibly weak and incredibly strong all at the same time. And even as I stood there, I knew that no matter how crazy the last few months had been—and they’d been insane—starting today, starting right now, everything was going to be okay. How did I know? Because we were a family again.

  “Did you see the locket?” my mother asked, leaning back to wipe tears from one of my cheeks. “Did you find the map?”

  I nodded, wiping my other cheek. “Yeah, what was that about?”

  “It was your abuelita’s,” my dad explained. “The map was given to her by your grandfather. It was supposed to be a last resort. Somewhere she could escape to if . . . if something ever came after her. She passed it down to your mother once we had you.”

  “When we realized the witch had found us,” my mom said, “we left it on your bed and then tried to lead her away from you. Our plan was to meet you back in the pasillo. For all of us to hide down there together. But we never got the chance.”

  My dad kissed me on top of my head, ruffled my hair a little. “Doesn’t matter now,” he whispered, his voice still thick with emotion. “You did good, Charlie. . . . Hiciste muy bien, mi hijo.”

  I smiled up at him through watery eyes and couldn’t look away. It was so painful to think that just a few minutes ago, that evil bruja had almost taken them away from me. Taken them away forever. Just the thought of it was enough to break my heart all over again, because I honestly don’t know what I would do without my parents.

  “I hate to interrupt this moment, Mami y Papi,” I heard Queen Joanna say, “but I need to have a quick word with Charlie. Es muy importante, I’m afraid.”

  My mom looked up at her and nodded silently.

  I nodded too. “Okay.”

  Joanna and I left the kitchen through one of the larger holes in the walls and walked out into the backyard, away from all the confused kids roaming around. At the far edge of the lawn stood a large tree I’d never actually noticed before. It must’ve stood close to eight feet tall and had a mass of beautiful purple flowers growing in perfect, crisscrossing patterns up its thick trunk. I couldn’t remember ever seeing another tree like it. Anywhere.

  As we got closer, the upper half of the trunk suddenly twisted around, and a green moss-covered face grinned down at me. A familiar face. Still, I almost had a heart attack.

  “¡Madremonte!” I shouted. “What are you doing here?”

  “She just wanted to apologize for how she treated you back at the Provencia,” Joanna said.

  “Sí, I was muy rude,” she said. “I had no idea what a brave and special boy you truly were. And I had a terrible case of leaf blisters, so I might’ve been un poquito moody. . . .”

  Un poquito means a little bit in Spanish, and that was probably a little bit of an understatement in itself—more like, mucho, mucho moody, but I was still grateful for the apology. “But I don’t get it. . . . So you guys were just in the neighborhood or something?”

  Joanna smiled. “No, Charlie. See, El Justo Juez and El Cadejo both thought it would be prudent to keep an eye on you even after we received the misleading report from the oracle. And yes, Ponce has been known to do that on occasion. He doesn’t exactly trust me. . . . He’s lost some faith in La Liga over the years. Anyway, El Cadejo volunteered to shadow you, while Juez attempted to apprehend El Sombrerón. We suspected that he might have some insight into La Mano Peluda’s plans. Like most treasure hunters, he tends to deal in secrets as much as artifacts. In any event, Juez finally managed to capture him, and it was the enormous-hatted one himself who told us about La Cuca, how she’d embedded herself in your life, her plans. Apparently, one of his acalicas had overheard some rumors.”

  “Sí, once Juez told us what he’d learned, we got here as quickly as we could,” said Madremonte. She looked at Joanna. “This was what? Twenty minutes ago?”

  “Wait, so you traveled all the way from Colombia to Miami in twenty minutes?”

  “I know. Slow. But there’s been a lot of rain across South America, so the root system is pretty backed up.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wasn’t about to ask. I wasn’t sure my brain could handle the answer at the moment.

  In the distance, a motorcycle engine revved and roared. I turned. Across the street, a big bulky dude dressed in head-to-toe black leather was straddling a sleek black bike. He raised a hand to his helmet in a salute before blasting off down the block, making me wonder who the heck he was . . . that is, until I saw a column of wispy gray smoke drifting out through the mirrored lens of his helmet.

  Juez!

  “But you got it done on your own, Charlie,” Queen Joanna said, sounding like a teacher whose favorite student just solved their first algebraic equation. “We’re all very thankful. And more than a little impressed.”

  “And you do know what you are by now, ¿sí?” asked Madremonte.

  “Yeah, La Cuca told me,” I said.

  Queen Joanna smiled at me. A proud sort of smile. “That’s why you’ve always liked animals. . . .”

  “Wait. How did you know that?”

  “Because all Morphlings do. Their collective DNA exists inside you. It’s part of your calling. You’re one with creation. A balancing force on the earth.”

  Aw man, that was awesome! And kinda mind-blowing, too . . . I was like a walking Noah’s Ark or something. “I love that!”

  “I’m so glad to hear that,” Joanna said, still smiling. But then she and Madremonte exchanged looks, and the queen’s expression changed, turning serious. “I hate to bring this up so quickly, Charlie—especially with everything that you’ve been through recently. But as it turns out, La Liga is once again in need of your help.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “Something to do with the Hairy Hand?”

  “More like everything. There are sinister forces at work, Charlie. Forces even darker and more dangerous than La Cuca.”

  “Evil is gathering to the south,” said Madremonte, “and beyond the sea.”

  “So, what’s going on?” I asked.

  The witch queen’s eyes locked onto mine. “Have you ever heard of El Chupacabra?”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A wise person once said that it takes a village to bring a book to life. And although that is certainly true, in the case of this particular book, it took a league. Not, as it were, a League of Shadows, but a league of wonderful and talented individuals whose selfless dedication to their craft has left me in awe.

  What follows is my feeble attempt at a thank you.

  To my editor and fairy godmother, Fiona Simpson, whose wit and boundless enthusiasm have made this entire process one I will forever cherish. You’ve not only made me feel welcome at Simon & Schuster, but you’ve also made me feel like family. How can I ever thank you enough for falling in love with Charlie and Violet and taking a chance on me? (HINT: I can’t!) To my agent and fellow 305er, Rena Rossner—I have no idea how you find the time to do all the amazing things you do, but I am so grateful to have you in my corner. To my wonderful publisher, Mara Anastas, and to the incredible Aladdin team, Caitlin Sweeny, Sara Berko, Anna Jarzab, Alissa Nigro, Amy Hendricks, and Christian Vega—I can’t thank all of you enough for your belief and support! To my copy editor, Penina Lopez, whose razor-sharp eyes could no doubt split a muki’s hair, and to my production editor, the incomparable Elizabeth Mims, who has improved this book in two different languages—many thanks y muchas, muchas gracias! To Manuel Sumberac, my insanely talented cover artist, and to the creative powerhouse duo of Karin Paprocki, art director, and Hilary Zarycky, interior designer, who came together to create the most visually stunning book these two eyes have ever beheld—you three have truly surpassed my wildest imaginations! To m
y tireless publicist, Vanessa DeJesus—thank you so much for having my back. Hopefully one day we’ll get to hang out at La Calaca and have some of those BBQ cauliflower nuggets you came up with!

  Of course, these acknowledgments wouldn’t be complete without a huge, misty-eyed thank you to all my family and friends. ¡Los amo a todos! Special shout-out to my cousin and all around e-ninja Alex (aka Dro, aka ShiningOutlaw), who has gifted me more electronics than I can count, including the Mac on which I’m currently typing this. Love you, cuz! Also, to my cousin Big Al, aka Don Alberto Corleone, aka Barbarossa, who’s one of the coolest cats on the planet. ¡Mucho amor, primo! And I certainly can’t leave out the two best primas ever, not to mention two of the fiercest hide-and-seek players I’ve ever had the privilege of running around my neighborhood with, Lauren and Alexandra! Or my favorite tía (you know who you are)!

  I’d also like to give a great big Lone Star State–size thank-you to the Texas Book Festival and the Tweens Read Festival, two can’t-miss events for any book lover! Seriously, don’t miss these!

  I’d be completely remiss if I didn’t also offer a very, very special thanks to all the teachers and librarians out there. You all are the backbone of civilization. The world can never thank you enough. (Or pay you enough, but that’s a different topic.)

  And lastly, but by no means least, a great big thank-you to you, wonderful reader—where would any of us be if it weren’t for you?

  GLOSSARY

  acalica: a species of weather fairies native to Bolivia.

  basajaun: huge hairy hominids that inhabit the dense forests of northern Spain (i.e., the Basque region). Often referred to as the “Lords of the Forest,” basajauns are talented farmers, millers, and blacksmiths.

  bruja: a witch or sorceress.

  El Cadejo: a supernatural creature created by God to protect mankind. It manifests itself in the form of an enormous white dog. Tales of its heroics and benevolence have been told all over Central and South America for many years.

  calacas: undead skeletons sometimes depicted as ferriers of the dead in Mexican and Latino culture.