The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1)

by Dela

  “Stay in Progresso, deal with the Celestials.” His voice was sour.

  “Will you come back to Tahoe?”

  He paused, thinking, then looked back to me. “I don’t think so.”

  I didn’t know what to do with his response except snuggle my hands under my arms, hoping it would tame the tightening in my chest. I wondered if time would ever change Lucas. He stressed over fear of the future, like I did, but I didn’t suffer from the decision to risk everything to change an old and binding tradition like he did. His pain hung before my eyes: guilt, resentment, unforgiveness, anxiety, worry . . . I didn’t want to feel it anymore, but it flowed out of him so easily and broke like a wave over me. I slumped and looked at my feet.

  “Zara, I didn’t bring you here to upset you. I brought you here to help you. Let’s not talk about me anymore,” he suggested.

  “But I want to . . .” He was too preoccupied with what had been done or needed to be done to look at me straight on. I watched him remove the beanie from his head and swipe his hand through his hair. It rose nearly two inches from his forehead. “What’s your real name?” I asked. I pictured something fierce.

  He looked back up to me. “Mulac.”

  It sounded nice, properly divine. “How come you chose Lucas?”

  He fiddled with the laces of his shoes. “Because he was a doctor to Saint Paul in the Bible. We all chose names that would be acceptable to the Spaniards. To prove we had converted to their beliefs.”

  I imagined the Spanish friars in the sixteenth century and the methods they used for conversion, which we’d read about in school. New names to avoid the brutality turned on those who resisted. It was horrible.

  “Does Xavier always come to help kidnap the sacrifices?”

  “No.” He sighed, his eyes on the pale blades where his fingers played. They were delicate with the frail grass at first, but the grass snapped the moment he was distracted. I understood, suddenly, the frustration of supernatural power, breaking everything too easily. He threw the shredded grass to the ground. “The executioners are the ones always sent. We believe Xavier is involved in order to break his curse, but I suspect it’s also partial revenge for what I did to him.”

  “But why would Xavier come now and not hundreds of years earlier?”

  “Because it’s the end of the Long Count calendar, and you are a virgin. The only time possible for him to break a witch’s curse. He needs pure blood.”

  Blood rushed to my face, coloring my cheeks the same cherry red as my nose. I looked down, embarrassed. “Honestly, does that really matter?”

  His gaze was steady as I hid under the blanket.

  “It means everything. Without that purity, it would never break a curse as black as his.”

  “What did you do to him?” His complexity—his past—scared me, and I wondered if I was smart to ask such detailed questions.

  Lucas hunched over his crossed knees and rested his elbows on the caps. “Xavier and Dylan come from a strong lineage of Mayan gods. They were known as the Hero Twins. Dylan was called Hunahpu, and Xavier, Xibalanque. Together they were very smart and very powerful. But unlike the other Celestial and Xibalban gods, they lived on Earth. They tricked people so potently that their victims self-destructed, destroying their own lives with things like crime, dishonesty, and infidelity.

  “Gabriella was only seventeen when she met Dylan. She saw the good in Dylan. They fell in love. Next thing you know, Dylan was telling Xavier that he wanted to change. But Xavier was furious. When he found out Gabriella was the reason for Dylan’s change of heart, he tried to trick her to her own death so he could get his brother back. Nobody knew that Gabriella and I were demigods, so when Gabriella jumped off a cliff just as Xavier had coaxed her to, he presumed she was dead. Gabriela waited for him to leave so that he would believe she was dead, and then she went into hiding. By the time the Celestials approached us to be Watchers, Gabriella had been in hiding for weeks. It was obvious what we needed to do to become worthy. The Celestials didn’t like Xavier because he disturbed the peace on Earth. He couldn’t let humans be. So Dylan helped Gabriella and I plan his destruction. And it was this act that gave us our pass to immortality.”

  “But . . .”

  “How did we do it?”

  “He’s a god. Aren’t gods indestructible, curse and all?”

  “All gods have a spirit that is worth far more than their physical body. Spirit is what makes a god powerful and vulnerable.”

  “I hate that word.”

  Lucas’s lips curved up silently. “We figured that if we could curse his soul to Xibalba, we would be rid of him. But of course we needed a witch.”

  “Tita.”

  He nodded. “That summer we received word that the Incas in Machu Picchu were going to sacrifice a witch. We saved her and brought her back home to Yucatan, where we planned our attack on Xavier. His arrogance was his weakness. When we heard he was going to make an offering up north at Tajin, a Mayan woman who looked similar to Tita, we swapped Tita for his captive victim. Tita bespelled herself so that when Xavier tried to kill her, his spirit would be cursed to Xibalba and Tita’s life would be preserved. Since then, Xavier has been locked in Xibalba, trying to get out.”

  “How come I saw Xavier on the bridge if he isn’t allowed to leave?”

  “That’s just his rotten physical body. It’s been deteriorating for five hundred years. While his spirit is trapped down there, his physical body is weak here. Because they aren’t together.”

  Xavier had been feeble and thin, his pale skin almost translucent. Lucas noticed my shudder.

  “Don’t worry, his physical form really isn’t that powerful without it,” he said.

  “But he had power over me.” I remembered the way that Xavier’s fingers flicked and slammed my body into the bridge that night.

  “But not over us. That is why he fled when we arrived.”

  “You cut it too close sometimes,” I joked nervously.

  His smile played with my heart, controlling me in a very different way than Xavier had. I breathed in the icy air, hoping it would take away the hot palpitations. Lucas chuckled. He was now lying on his side, propped on an elbow like someone in a painting.

  “What are you laughing at?” I asked.

  “Your heart is racing. I can hear it.”

  “Do you hear everything?”

  “Pretty much.” He grinned.

  Great. “What did your dad do to become immortal?”

  “You can’t just sit still for a second, can you?”

  “And you can’t just answer a simple question, can you?”

  He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “The Aztecs believed that all gods were honored by human sacrifice. But being married to my mother, a goddess, my father knew that not all gods wanted human sacrifice. So after they met, he lived his entire life never performing that sort of ritual. After Tajin we moved to Yucatan, where he dedicated Tulum as a place where no human sacrifice would ever be made. It was extremely uncommon for an Aztec to commit to a bloodless life, but the Celestials cherished him for it and saw it as worthy.”

  “And Tita?”

  Lucas sat up, facing me, but playing with the laces of his shoes again. “Tita had to turn immortal. If she died, Xavier’s curse would be lifted.”

  I looked away, embracing the beauty of Lucas’s snowy fortress. I listened to the song of the birds and stared across the frozen pond. The whiteness around us was pure and calming, but my mind unwillingly turned to what lurked in Xibalba.

  “What lives in the Underworld?” I had seen more of the undead than I wished, but I needed to know what we were up against.

  “Aztecs who died in battle against the Spaniards, the ones who were the most compelled, the die-hards, we call them. And the Mayans who had no sense of sin, the murderers and thieves who escaped puni
shment because of the community’s lack of moral order. Because their behavior disturbed the balance of good, they were damned to the Underworld. And lastly, the wicked warriors, kings, and priests; the Xibalban gods hand-select their executioners from those ranks.”

  Lucas looked away, dipped his finger in the snow, and twirled it in circles. “The executioners were created for one purpose,” he said, “and that is to capture the gods’ sacrifices. In all my life, the executioners have never returned to the Underworld empty-handed.”

  His low tone made my eyes fog up with fear for my fate, but his hand moved suddenly to my knee.

  “Don’t worry. Things will be different this time,” he said encouragingly. He looked at his watch. “We better get you home soon. It isn’t safe for us to be out when it’s dark.”

  “Aren’t you worried about Solstice at all?” I asked, now twirling my hair obsessively.

  “Are you?”

  “Extremely.”

  My finger snagged in a knot. The tingle came on impact as his fingers touched mine. He moved my fingers away and untangled the snarl with speed and accuracy. I was disappointed when he backed away and stood seconds later. I needed him now.

  “It isn’t Solstice I’m worried about. It’s closing the portal.” The fear in his eyes this time transmitted painful electric arcs to my body.

  “How come?”

  “I have power over the creatures of the dead, but I cannot control what happens once the portal is closed. Technically, we will be committing an act of treason. That’s what scares me.”

  The chemicals surging in my body mixed badly, producing intense nausea.

  “What if we went to the Celestials for help and told them about the prophecy?”

  He shook his head softly. “I’ve already thought of this. They wouldn’t believe it. They think witches are weak, and the prophecy comes from one. It’s too much of a risk. If they knew a human controlled the fate of all, I bet on my life that they’d give you over in a heartbeat.”

  My stomach dropped. He heard that too, except he didn’t smile. He dropped to his knees.

  “Zara, listen to me. Look around you,” he said, and I glanced at the shimmering snow behind him. “Remember it. Let this be your out. When you feel your mind being tampered with, when you are in a place you don’t want to be, I want you to think of this place. Can you do that for me?”

  Suddenly his sapphire eyes were only inches from mine, fearless and determined. The icicles that hung from the church reflected in them like solid light. His brooding features seemed fairer here, almost angelic. I felt my lip quivering at this new, delicate perfection, far more appealing than winter’s charms. It was then, staring into the depths of his sympathetic soul, that I knew he was my utopia, my way out of battle—I no longer felt trapped, no longer felt like his prisoner. In some strange way, we were bound together.

  My bond with Lucas was never about taking my freedom away. It was a bond of honor, and I trusted with my life that he would protect me because he honored me too. But how could he be so unselfish while I was so ungrateful?

  “I’ll try,” I said, staring back with a newfound respect.

  I knew that he understood my luminous moment. His now-humble eyes tightened as he smiled. “That’s all I need you to do.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Solstice

  The clouds were gray the next day as Lucas and I drove to his house. My thoughts were on the letter in my bag: I had written a message to Mae, not knowing if I’d see her again, and I just needed to mail it. When we arrived at the Castillos’ house, though, I broke out of my reverie. Gabriella was standing on a snow-layered boulder near the woods, bow in hand, her left arm extended forward and her right elbow bent by her ear. There was a tiny movement followed by a boom, and she reached for another arrow, tilting her head to aim into the woods again.

  A loud ringing broke the silence. I couldn’t help but watch the siren in the woods as I rooted through my bag for the phone. Her head snapped toward us at the second ring. Embarrassed, I finally thumbed the button and lifted it up.

  “Yes?” I answered, unable to contain my annoyance.

  “So, Mexico?” Max said.

  “You coming?”

  “Don’t know yet. I have finals.”

  “That’s what Mom said.”

  He was silent as I stared at the floor, sensing Gabrielle’s curious gaze from outside.

  “Did you need something? I’m sort of busy,” I grumbled.

  “Do I have to have a reason to talk to my little sis?”

  “Max, what do you want?”

  “I want to know what you’re doing with that boy. What has he done to wrap you around his finger?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I turned my back to Lucas’s smirk, but just ended up facing Gabriella on the other side of the window. I had nowhere to look but out the windshield, toward the foggy lake.

  Max’s offended laugh startled me. “Mom told me how she listens to you cry at night.”

  My next breath was stolen from me. The clever smile across the car that I had grown to love vanished. The fact that he now knew the truth horrified me. I couldn’t break away from his shocked gaze as guilt turned me to stone.

  “So I am right,” Max heckled on the other end. “And when was the last time you thought about applications for another college? Jett says you don’t talk about it anymore, and that’s all you used to talk about.”

  I was suddenly depressed. Instead of racing as it usually did in Lucas’s car, my heart had slowed to a near halt.

  “I’m working on that,” I muttered.

  “With him?”

  “No. I’m doing it on my own, when I have free time, without him,” I blurted without thinking.

  Lucas’s door slammed. He joined Gabriella at the hood of the car and unleashed an anguished yell I felt responsible for.

  “Look, I’ve got to go,” I said, watching as Gabriella defended herself against Lucas’s sudden temper.

  “I’m watching out for you, sis.”

  “Tell Casey hi.”

  Guilt flooded the car the moment I hung up. I had lied to Lucas about my misery by keeping it from him. But it wasn’t that, the disgrace written all over me. For the first time since I’d met him, I had spoken of an independent future as if he didn’t exist.

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was crying?” I heard Lucas say to Gabriella.

  She replied in quick Spanish as I eased out of the car. When Lucas didn’t acknowledge me, shame wrinkled me like a raisin. I wanted to disappear.

  “Max and Casey would love you if they had a chance to know you,” I said, hoping to make up for the lie.

  He turned a wall of sarcasm to me. “Let’s hope they can make the trip to Mexico, then.”

  “Would the executioners go after them if they don’t get me?” I asked, my heart seizing anew.

  Gabriela shrugged. “It’s possible.”

  “What?”

  Lucas exhaled in a rush. “Relax. They don’t have a choice. One of us will drive to Reno and take care of it.”

  Although that was good news, I stormed to his car, grabbed my stuff, and headed inside. I beat him through the door, but he whisked past me to block the basement stairs.

  “Get out of my way,” I ordered rudely.

  “Make me.”

  My blood boiled when he planted his feet and grinned selfishly.

  “If I am such an inconvenience to you, why go through all this trouble to save me?” I argued.

  He laughed, oddly loud. “If I am such an inconvenience to you, why ask me if I am coming back to Tahoe after we close the portal?”

  “You are such a jerk!”

  “And you are a confused, stubborn woman!” His voice echoed throughout the house. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were so unh
appy?”

  Dylan materialized out of the basement. “What’s going on?”

  “Stubborn? Me? No, no, no. That’s all you!” I stabbed a scornful finger at him.

  “Because I am trying to protect both of us!” he shouted, a slight accent emerging from his unbelief. “Admit it, you can’t stand relinquishing your independence to be saved. If it weren’t for my stubbornness, you wouldn’t trust me, and we both would be worse off!”

  “I am done here.” I threw my arms up and flipped around, heading straight for the garage.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” he chortled. “Don’t let me deter your happiness, Your Majesty. Excuse me for caring.”

  Gabriella and Dylan were already waiting by her winter car, a sparkling pale-gold Escalade, but Lucas had not joined them. Gabriella walked delicately to me.

  “I’m sorry, but I cannot be around him for another minute,” I sniffed.

  She took my bag and opened the passenger door without question. I slid in and slouched, laying my forehead on the cool dash. Gabriella and Dylan exchanged a few words, kissed quickly, and the next thing I saw was Niya and Malik running alongside the car until we passed the gates.

  “Want to talk?” Gabriella asked once her house was out of view—or, rather, once Lucas’s ears were out of range.

  “Why is he such a jerk sometimes?”

  She cackled. “Lucas isn’t a jerk. He’s stupid, but far from a jerk. He’s too smart for his own good.”

  I covered my mouth as a hiccupping laugh tried to escape my throat. She gave me a knowing look.

  “Stupid?” I asked.

  “He takes what he feels in his heart and puts it all in his head. He isn’t much better at home either. He’s uptight around us too. I don’t like it. He’s never been this way.” She looked at me. “I’m sorry, but I would be lying if I said it wasn’t you that makes him this way.”

  The guilt sank into me like a heavy chain I couldn’t lift. “He did admit yesterday that I made him crazy.”