“Ah,” Clio said. “She’s a busy one, then. And talented.”
She really had been helping us. Maris had been my muse all along!
She was going to rock this job.
Clio took a fresh bite out of a brownie. She chewed quietly. Papers were scattered everywhere. Two new boxes sat in the corner of her office. Each was labeled with the words “Tapestry—to be stored.”
“We don’t know what her specialty is,” Clio wondered.
“She’s a great poet,” I said. “Better than I’ll ever be.” I stared at my hands. There was something else I was itching to do. One more line I wanted to write in the book.
It made sense. So much sense.
The gods on Mount Olympus had chosen a helper to assist Ari in her quest. Me. And I’d done my job.
They’d made me the Muse of epic poetry. The Hero Maker. But I didn’t even know who Emily Dickinson was.
I thought of my family, who I was always running away from every time my bracelet warmed up. I was missing things, like playtime with Rafaelito and episodes of Zombie Beach.
But did I really want to say goodbye to the Muse Squad forever? Nia, Thalia, and Mela were my best friends, too.
Before I knew it, I was crying. Again. These ridiculous tears wouldn’t ever let up, would they?
I heard sniffling. Clio was wiping her cheeks.
“Grief?” I asked.
Clio shook her head. “No, these tears are just the love that remains when you miss someone you are very fond of. Tears can be liquid love, you know.”
I knew. It’s what Tia Annie had wanted me to understand, too. I didn’t know my purpose yet. Future-Callie would have to discover that. I’d spent the last year asking questions, searching for answers to mysteries, big and small. But now I felt okay with not knowing. In fact, not knowing what came next in life seemed like the best adventure of all.
But one thing I did know was this—I loved my family with all my heart. And they needed me, probably more than the muses did. Maybe they were my purpose? After all, hadn’t I been Tia Annie’s purpose all this time?
I started to take off my bracelet, but Clio held my hand.
“Keep it. I’ll make an entrance point for you wherever we go, Callie.” She cast her eyes from side to side, as if she was telling me a secret. “We’re headed to the Field Museum in Chicago next,” she said in a whisper.
“Nia is going to freak out!” I shouted, and Clio grinned.
Then we were quiet for a long time, and we each ate another brownie.
My mom always said that “No” is a complete sentence. “Yes” was a complete sentence, too. I was saying yes to my old life, and to the new beginnings I would find in it. But I was still very sad.
“So there will be nine muses again,” I said after a while.
“That’s always been the way,” Clio said. “I can put in the paperwork as soon as you’re ready.”
I thought about it. “No, I think I want to just . . . finish the story.” I tapped the book with my fingers.
“I understand.”
“Will someone else be the storyteller now?”
“Maybe. The storyteller always appears when we need her,” Clio said.
“I’ll miss you, Clio,” I said, choking back a sob.
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she came around her desk and wrapped me up in a big, brownie-scented hug, and cried into my hair for a little bit.
At last we looked at each other through watery eyes, and I got up to go. “I’ll be waiting,” I said, jiggling my bracelet.
“Leave the monsters to us, and I promise to call you for fun meetings only,” Clio said. She put some brownies in cellophane for me and said goodbye.
That night, I called the Muse Squad over for one last muster. We met on the ship that was my entrance point in the Hall of Science. Maris was with them. She’d received a golden cuff bracelet etched with silver quill pens all around as her communication item. She kept one of the knit Wonder Woman cuffs on her other wrist. The bracelets made a mismatched pair, but it suited her.
“Why did this get so flipping hot?” she asked us when she arrived, pointing at her communication item, and we laughed.
“You’ve got loads to learn,” Thalia said. “Listen to me, and you’ll be fine.”
Nia snorted. “Right. Listen to her, and you’ll be in trouble quick.”
“There are lots of rules,” Mela said. “The first is—”
“Everybody, hold up,” I interrupted. I sat down on the deck and pulled the book onto my lap. “I’ve made up my mind about something.”
The others sat around and waited expectantly. I opened up the book to the last page. The silver pen rested in the binding again. I took a very big, very shaky breath.
“I’m . . . I’m quitting the Muse Squad,” I said all in a rush.
“No, you are not,” Nia said.
“Unacceptable!” Thalia shouted.
“I just started here! I need you,” Maris complained.
“This is absolutely tragic,” Mela said.
I held up my hands. “Listen. I’ve done my job. This book came to me at the right moment, and now it’s waiting for me to end the story. A muse always trusts her instincts, remember?”
Everyone nodded in agreement. Then we all started crying.
“Stop it, Mela,” I said, through tears.
“I assure you that I have nothing to do with this,” Mela said.
We cried it out for a little bit, because I had a new rule, Rule #978: Sometimes you’ve got to let the tears happen.
“Clio promised I could have an entrance point wherever you go next,” I said. “So, it’s not really goodbye forever.”
Nia sat up straight as an arrow. “We’re moving headquarters again?”
Uh-oh.
“I—I didn’t say that exactly,” I stuttered.
A chorus of “Tell us, tell us, tell us” began, and when I did, Nia shouted, “YES! YOU ARE ALL GOING TO LOVE CHICAGO!” so loudly that a guard came up to shoo us away.
Then Thalia made him catch a case of the giggles, and he left us alone.
“How did you do that?” Maris asked, her eyes wide.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “Poet, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
I wrote the words down in the book later that day, away from everyone, sitting cross-legged on the pin-pan-pun. I didn’t want anyone watching, really.
It was just me and the story now.
I picked up the silver pen.
I wrote:
Callie Martinez-Silva was a regular girl.
I closed the book with the pen inside and set it down. There. It was done.
Picking up my phone, I texted Maya.
Me: Hey Mission Control, what’s up?
Maya: Apollo 13, I miss you! I was just about to text you. We got a puppy! Fernando and Mario have been saving up all summer for it! AND MAMI LET THEM KEEP IT!
Me: WHAT?! I thought they wanted to get a car?!
Maya: That’s what I thought. I’m so glad they changed their minds!
We texted back and forth for an hour, with Maya sending me pics of the new puppy, which Mario had named Mr. Abominable, and looked like a cross between a German shepherd and a bulldog.
I couldn’t wait to snuggle his smooshed-up face!
When we said our goodbyes, I looked over to where I had put the book down, and it was gone. Unlike everyone else’s emblems, my book only came to me when I needed it. It made sense. The book was a powerful thing. Maybe too powerful for anyone to have all the time.
I ran my hand over the place where the book had been and tried to imagine who the next storyteller might be someday. Maybe they’d be a kid, like me.
As for my magic, I couldn’t feel it all leashed up anymore. I couldn’t feel it at all. I took a deep breath and felt really light. And happy.
I was happy.
The rest of the summer was waiting for me.
“Papi, Laura,” I called from my room. �
�Let’s go get ice cream.”
Chapter 32
Homecoming
At the airport, Papi had hugged me a long time at the gate, and he dropped five loud kisses on the top of my head.
“Be good now,” he said. “Listen to your mother. And here,” he added, handing me an envelope. “Give this to your brothers, por favor.”
“I will,” I said. “And you should help Laura with the dishes, honestly. Set an example for Rafaelito and all that.”
Papi chuckled. “Tienes razón, like always. Such a smart girl. How’d I get so lucky?”
“I love you, Papi.”
“I love you, too, kiddo,” he said.
I added another rule to my growing list. Number 999: Sometimes parents have to be far away, but they love you all the same.
In the plane, I watched the New York skyscrapers grow smaller by the second, until the city was just a gray dot. Somewhere down there, the muses would be mustering, and a brand-new Muse of the epic poem would be learning what it takes to inspire a hero. I had a feeling Corona Arts would be brimming with poets next summer!
“Thanks, Santa Claus!” Fernando was saying as I unloaded the souvenirs I’d brought home for everyone:
—A book about video games for Mario, and a Wonder Woman comic (an issue that came highly recommended by Maris) for Fernando. I’d bought them both at Vision Books, where we’d escaped the cyclops.
—A small brass stargazer for Maya from the Hall of Science. She had squealed and hugged me when she saw it.
—A picture of me standing next to Fortitude at the New York Public Library, in a frame for Mami. “Bella,” she’d announced, kissing my picture.
—And I bought a dog collar for Mr. Abominable, too, with the words “I love Little Italy” all around.
Later, I’d give Raquel Mr. Theo’s bedazzled microphone, which he let me keep after I’d introduced him to Ari’s Auntie A.
That night, Mami made arroz con pollo for dinner (my favorite), and we filled each other in on our summer adventures. Maya had been clomping around in astronaut slippers since she’d gotten home, apparently. They were white and fuzzy, with a little stuffed astronaut perched on the toe of the left foot, and a stuffed space shuttle on the right.
“Do you think I can wear these on the first day of school?” she asked, while Mami made a face.
“Please don’t,” I said.
I thought about Past-Callie a lot in the days after I’d given up my muse powers. Past-Callie would have inspired Maya not to wear her slippers to school. Now-Callie would just have to convince her the old-fashioned way.
As for Future-Callie?
Who knew?
I sort of liked not knowing, even if it meant not having magical powers, or seeing Tia Annie again. I still dreamed of her sometimes, but I always knew it was just a dream. One time, I dreamed that Tia Annie and I rode a roller coaster to Cuba. Another time, I dreamed that she’d come back to life, and was our neighbor. Once I dreamed of her face—just her face, really close up, telling me she loved me.
Maybe that one wasn’t a dream.
As for my brothers, they read Papi’s letter and, later that night, had a long conversation with him on the phone. I didn’t eavesdrop, even though I really wanted to. Mario and Fernando had to figure this one out on their own, but I would be there to listen and to love them (no magic involved) if they needed me.
One last thing.
Every once in a while, my bracelet starts to warm up. Not too hot, because it’s never an emergency. Muse problems aren’t my problems anymore. But when the bracelet heats up, I make my excuses, slide under my bed, and close my eyes.
And when I open them, I’m usually staring at four pairs of shoes (one of them pink with a smiley face drawn on them), and the familiar voices of friends saying, “Welcome back, Callie.”
Acknowledgments
Readers, thank you for joining Callie and the Muse Squad on this journey. I hope they’ve inspired you to think of the world in new ways and to seek the muse within!
To my editor, Kristin Rens—thank you for believing in the muses from the beginning. If there’s a tenth muse, I think you might be it.
Thanks to the team at Balzer + Bray, especially Mitch Thorpe, Emma Meyer, and Joel Tippie. To cover artist Jonathan Stroh, thank you. The muses were definitely with you on this project. Thanks, as well, to Mary Pender for her efforts in helping me share Muse Squad with others.
To the writers of Las Musas, un montón de gracias por su apoyo y amistad.
To Stéphanie Abou, my agent, coconspirator, and friend, thank you for taking this leap and so many others with me—here’s to many more.
Thanks to Hallie Johnston for being the Muse Squad’s first reader and a pal forever.
To Didi—this book is dedicated to your friendship, which means the world to me.
As ever, my real-life muses are my family. Sin ellos, nada. To Orlando, Penelope, and Mary-Blair—I love you all, times infinity.
About the Author
Photo by Belkis Lora
CHANTEL ACEVEDO was born in Miami to Cuban parents. She is the author of Muse Squad: The Cassandra Curse as well as several acclaimed adult novels, including The Distant Marvels, which was a finalist for the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Fiction, and she is also a professor of English at the University of Miami, where she directs the MFA program. Chantel lives with her personal Muse Squad, aka her family, in Florida. Visit her online at www.chantelacevedo.com.
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Muse Squad: The Cassandra Curse
Copyright
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
MUSE SQUAD: THE MYSTERY OF THE TENTH. Copyright © 2021 by Chantel Acevedo. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Cover art © 2021 by Jonathan Stroh
Cover design by Joel Tippie
* * *
Library of Congress Control Number: 2021932058
Digital Edition JULY 2021 ISBN: 978-0-06-294774-1
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-294772-7
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FIRST EDITION
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Chantel Acevedo, The Mystery of the Tenth
The Mystery of the Tenth Page 23