Cazadora

by Romina Garber

  Bernardo is practically growling when he says, “No further questions.”

  The head judge bangs his gavel, and the screen starts to count down again. Then I’m sucked belowground.

  Only this time, I’m not alone.

  A Cazadora is waiting for me.

  32

  “Where’s your daddy?” asks Yamila, her sultry voice making the question sound wrong on so many levels.

  “You still think Fierro is alive?” I ask with as much bravado as I can muster.

  “I know he got your mom out.” She steps toward me, and I root myself to the spot, refusing to give ground. “There’s no other way she could have pulled that off.”

  “Then I guess you overestimated his concern for me because he’s obviously not here.” My voice is barely above a whisper, her nose inches from mine.

  “Or he’s biding his time until the verdict.” Her gaze narrows in a way that makes me feel like she’s reading all my secrets. “Maybe he thinks they’ll actually let you off … since he doesn’t know what I know.”

  There it is.

  The thing I’ve been dreading.

  “And what do you think you know?”

  A slow smile spreads across her face. “You deflected my magic … ladrona.”

  I attempt a shrug, but I’m too tense, and the move comes off as a jerk.

  “Or maybe you’re just not all that powerful,” I taunt. “It’s what the other Cazadores will think if you testify to that.”

  A wave of heat presses, but I don’t let Yamila’s dragon breath intimidate me.

  “You think you can manipulate me?” she asks, and I don’t know if my words have affected her or not, but I can’t let her do this.

  I’m desperate.

  “Help me get out of this,” I hear myself say, “and I’ll help you find Fierro.”

  Before she can answer, Diego strides in through the wall.

  “Okay, I just checked, and the first witness he’s calling is—” He stiffens on seeing Yamila. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I was just making sure the prisoner wasn’t left unguarded,” she says, her bloodred eyes locked onto mine. “We don’t know what secret powers she might be hiding.”

  Once she’s gone, Diego turns to me. “What did she want?”

  I swallow. I can’t tell him. He could refuse to represent me. “Nothing. She was just trying to intimidate me.”

  After all, maybe my plan worked.

  If Yamila doesn’t testify, no one can connect me to la ladrona.

  * * *

  Back in the courtroom, the sky is pink again. I guess this is the new version of daytime for now. The vines bind securely around me, and I wonder if I can loosen them again, only this time I don’t dare attempt it.

  Bernardo calls his first witness.

  His wife.

  “Jazmín del Laberinto.” She drags out her name, like she’s enjoying the effect it has on him, and an aura glows around her. “Headmistress of the academy.”

  Hers is a smokier halo than any of my friends’—as if her baseline of secrets is higher. I wonder if it’s a common thing with age, and the accumulation of experiences, or if Jazmín is just particularly adept at lying.

  Could be both.

  “Yamila caught the accused, but you were the one who first discovered her, is that right?”

  “I was suspicious of her from the start,” says my aunt, her sharp amethyst eyes staring back at me from the screen. By the intensity of her gaze, it’s like she knows I’m watching and is looking straight at me.

  “That’s why I placed her in my daughter’s room. To keep an eye on her.”

  My daughter.

  “So you handed over the entire investigation to our child? Or did you also reach out to the Cazadores, per protocol?”

  Our child.

  Under any other circumstances, I would be relishing the expression on Jazmín’s face. What little color she has drains from her cheeks, and she looks like she just got a sopapo—a smack across the face.

  “I contacted the Cazadores right away,” she says, biting off every word, “and I had them come in and inspect all the students’ Huellas. They decided everyone checked out.”

  “What happened next?” he says quickly, like he’s uneager to cast any shade on the Cazadores, no matter how peripheral.

  “Her performance in class was all over the place, and her instructor Lupe and I couldn’t figure out what she was hiding. Until she revealed herself to be a lobizona.”

  Maybe I’m imagining it, but there’s a difference in her voice when she says that last word. Almost like she’s switching into a different accent.

  “And at that point I assume you called the Cazadores again?”

  “No,” she says, frowning. “My brother, Gael, knew right away that something was wrong, but he urged me to keep it quiet until Lunaris. It was his idea I turn Manu—the accused—over to Yamila then.”

  “So Gael took the law into his own hands,” says Bernardo, and I hear the hatred he holds for my father soaking his tongue. “Seems old habits die hard.”

  “That’s not what happened. My brother was being smart about it.” Her voice is deathly low, and for the first time, I pick up on how much she loves Gael. However much they disagree, however extreme their behavior, their bond is the unbreakable kind.

  “Gael knew the Cazadores didn’t find anything the first time, so he assumed the accused must have secret powers we didn’t know about. Otherwise, how could she have fooled such highly trained officers?” It’s clear Jazmín is well-versed in her husband’s weak spots. “We decided to let her think she was safe, while we coordinated with the Cazadores behind the scenes.”

  “Yet Lunaris did not go as you planned,” Bernardo reminds her, probably because of her dig at his officers. “What happened?”

  “She eluded the Cazadores for a second time, I presume.”

  “And what does this tell you?” Bernardo growls through gritted teeth.

  “It tells me she’s dangerous and a threat to our law enforcement.”

  At last they seem to have arrived at the point he was leading her toward. “What about your students’ loyalty to her, as expressed to us moments ago? How do you explain her influence on them?”

  “It shows me she’s manipulative and a threat to our children.”

  “And what of the death of young Zaybet?”

  Jazmín manages to make the iciness of her gaze look like moisture. “It proves the accused is a curse on our species and a threat to our very existence.”

  “¡Objeción!” shouts Diego. “This witness is not qualified to make any of these assertions!”

  “Withdrawn,” says Bernardo with a shrug like he’s not bothered either way. He’s already made his case. “No more questions.”

  Diego takes a deep breath before stepping up to face the head of his school. “Señora Jazmín,” he says with a nod.

  “Diego, you’re doing a wonderful job.” The smile looks out of place on her face. “You’re one of the most impressive students to have graced our halls. You and Yamila are now two of our biggest success stories. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you,” he says, bowing his head in acknowledgment. “Then I hope you understand it’s now my duty to question you rigorously.”

  Jazmín’s smile wilts at the edges. “Of course.”

  “Let’s go back to how you followed all the proper protocols. You admitted Manu to the academy even though she wasn’t registered—isn’t that a violation?”

  “As headmistress, I can take certain liberties. I believed it better to keep her under my watch while I contacted the authorities.”

  “Only that’s not what happened,” he says, knitting his brow. “You contacted the Cazadores for a general check of the school. You didn’t tell them anything about Manu.”

  “I was worried I might not be operating from a place of pure objectivity, and the best way to be sure was by asking an impartial party. I knew if I told the officer
s my suspicions, I would be biasing them, so I decided to recuse myself.”

  Diego frowns. “Why would you have a bias against my client?”

  “I’m embarrassed to admit it,” she says, feigning a fragility she doesn’t feel.

  “Take your time, Señora Jazmín,” says Diego kindly.

  “Well, it has to do with my daughter. I was worried.”

  “But you’re the one who roomed them together—”

  “No, it’s not that. I didn’t fear for her life, I feared for her heart.” Her gaze cracks on the screens. “I knew my daughter and Tiago were unsuccessfully trying to hide their feelings for each other from me, and the truth is, I approved, wholeheartedly.”

  I stare at her aura as it churns, but since it’s already a charged storm, it’s impossible to tell when she’s being forthcoming from when she’s holding back. But I know by her own admission that Jazmín was aware her daughter loves Saysa.

  She wrings her fingers like she’s embarrassed, and I want to hand her the Academy Award.

  “The night I met Manu, what I didn’t mention, is I didn’t come across her alone. She was with Tiago. I could tell she had already bewitched him. He’s the first one who found her, alone in the woods, and brought her into the school, thinking her a lost lamb. Not realizing she was a wolf in sheepskin.”

  Her words have an effect. I can feel the atmosphere tensing.

  “Just so I understand,” says Diego, “you feared you were acting out of a protective parental instinct and not pure logic?”

  “Exactly. But as Señora Lupe fed me more and more troubling reports of the accused’s class performance, I decided to keep a close eye—and then, of course, her powers revealed themselves, and she joined the Septibol team, and you know the rest because you were there. It’s you she replaced on the field, right? Goalkeeper?”

  “Yes, and she’s sublime,” says Diego with a warm smile that makes all of Jazmín’s attempts look as fake as they are. “Just one last question. Why didn’t you simply ask to see Manu’s Huella for yourself and contact her manada to get the real story?”

  “I knew she didn’t have a Huella,” she says, squaring her shoulders.

  “How?”

  On the screen I’m watching, Jazmín stares straight ahead in that way where it feels like she’s addressing me again. “My daughter told me.”

  Her words are a stab to the heart.

  But I refuse to believe them.

  “What are you talking about?” demands Diego. “When?”

  “That first night, she went through the accused’s things. The next day, she reported back that she couldn’t find a Huella anywhere. So I called the Cazadores, and when the accused managed to outmaneuver them, I realized how dangerous she truly was. I decided the best thing I could do for all of us was try to earn her trust and gather information.”

  I’m not looking at Jazmín anymore, I’m focused on her aura. For all its grayness, it doesn’t darken when she talks of Cata’s betrayal. And somehow, I know it’s what Cata was trying to tell me.

  She did betray me.

  But only for a minute. And she’s more than made up for it since.

  Now I know why she looked at me like that on the balloon ride to Belgrano. And why she was so eager to get me a forged Huella in Lunaris, to make up for what she did. I won’t let Jazmín drive a wedge between us because that’s what she’s trying to do.

  “And in the name of gathering information,” says Diego, “did you break any laws?”

  Jazmín stiffens. “None that I can recall.”

  Her aura tells a different story. There are more dark spots in the grayness.

  “You don’t recall administering truth potion to a minor without parental consent?”

  Jazmín’s jaw clenches, and at last the feigned tenderness fades from her face. “I gave her a minuscule dose, it only lasted moments—”

  “What was it your husband said about you and your brother having a history of taking the law into your hands?” asks Diego.

  “I had no idea what I was dealing with, and I had the lives of all my students to consider!”

  “You know, I think you’re right, Señora Jazmín. You are biased against Manu. But it’s not to protect your daughter’s heart. It’s to secure your own ambitions.”

  He steps closer, his voice lower but still amplified across the chamber. “Perhaps you’re ready to move on from the name del Laberinto after all.”

  “¡Objeción!”

  Bernardo steps forward, beside his wife, but Diego doesn’t back down. “What’s your husband offering you and your brother in exchange for your testimony?”

  Bernardo looks to the judges. “Sus señorías, ¡objeción!”

  “Are you hoping the tribunal will lift your sentences—?”

  The head judge bangs his gavel, and Diego falls silent. Jazmín and Bernardo glare at him as he returns to my side, his chest heaving.

  Bernardo exchanges a calculating look with his wife, and it’s unclear who won this round. Then he nods at her and says, “You are excused.”

  As Jazmín walks past, her purple eyes cut to mine. I don’t see fury or hate, like I was expecting.

  I see fear.

  Only I’m not deluded enough to think it’s for me. Which means she’s worried about Cata or Gael. My friends all have their immunity deals, but my father is on his own, embedded in the enemy camp. Is Jazmín afraid his identity has been compromised? Or is she as terrified as I am about what he might do to protect me?

  “I call Yamila Belgrano,” announces Bernardo.

  The Encendedora marches in with her back arched and chin high, like some kind of hailing conqueror. “Yamila Belgrano, Cazadora,” she says in her low voice when she takes the stand.

  Her aura is red. Like the smoke I used to see in her wake in the human world.

  “I want to congratulate you on your excellent hunting,” says Bernardo, his eyes filling with a pride he didn’t show for his daughter. “You are an inspiration to all brujas.”

  Not Septimus. Not Cazadores. Just brujas.

  “Thank you, señor.”

  “Are you familiar with the legend of la ladrona?”

  “I am.”

  “What has been prophesied about her?”

  “She will be born of a Septimus and a human, and though she may look like us, her eyes will give her away. She’s predicted to be stealthy and manipulative, and she will use those traits to sneak into Lunaris and embed herself among us. She’ll steal the wolves’ power and match the witches’ magic. She will be the world’s undoing.”

  Bernardo nods along with her. “The defense has painted a picture of the accused as a good kid who just wants a chance, and he’s painted my wife as an unstable and self-interested witch. Yet you are an officer of the law and the only Septimus who has squared off with the accused physically—and she’s managed to best you each time.”

  Anger ripples across Yamila’s expression, but she forces a nod. “Sí, señor.”

  “More than anyone else, you have been exposed to her abilities from up close. Based on the criteria you cited, and everything we know about her, we can agree she checks off all the traits of la ladrona—save one.”

  My stomach tautens.

  “So, tell us,” he goes on, his words wringing my insides, “can she match the witches’ magic?”

  I stare into Yamila’s bloodred eyes on the nearest screen, inwardly begging her. The red aura flickers on and off, like signal interference. Maybe my pleas are getting through.

  She said it wasn’t me she wanted. If Fierro is who she’s after, and I’ve offered to deliver him, there’s no reason to sell me out now.

  After this is over, if I survive, I’ll worry about a strategy. For now, I just need her to say—

  “Yes.”

  The air leaves my lungs, and the room. The chamber grows so stale, I don’t think anyone is breathing.

  Then Yamila takes her killshot:

  “The accused dodged my fire.
”

  33

  The gavel comes down three times, but it’s no use. No one will shut up, and some Septimus are scrambling, filing out of the chamber like I might incinerate the place.

  Next thing I know, I’m sucked underground.

  This sudden silence is worse than the cacophony of noise, and I wait minutes that feel like hours until Diego walks through the wall.

  “What the fuck, Manu?”

  “I-I’m sorry—”

  “What part of tell me everything did you not understand?”

  “The part where you abandon me when you learn I’m a monster!” I choke on the word, and then I grip Diego’s wrists, digging my fingers into his skin like they’re claws.

  “Please, please, please don’t walk out on me. I’m not what she says, I swear, Diego, I would never hurt any of you—”

  “I know!” The anger in his face melts into frustration. “You think I believe in that superstition?”

  When my grip doesn’t ease up, he says, “You’re unprecedented, so of course your abilities are unpredictable—but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. Only I can’t make anyone believe that if you won’t.”

  He raises his hands with mine still attached and cups my cheeks in his warm palms. “If you can’t be honest in here, and show me the complete you, then you will always be in hiding. It’s called shame. And if you show shame on that stand, it will spread like flames to everyone watching. So leave it here. What are you ashamed of?”

  I drop my gaze to the ground, feeling supported by his hands on my cheeks, and I whisper, “I think—I think maybe I am her. La ladrona. I did what Yamila said, I deflected her magic. And the other day, I cracked an Invocadora’s force field. I’m pretty sure Tiago knows, but he hasn’t brought it up.”

  When I look at him, Diego is nodding like he understands. “He wanted to protect you in case the Cazadores interrogated him under duress.”

  Sort of what I figured.

  “And now”—I breathe—“in the courtroom, I-I loosened a vine on my wrist.”

  I see the flash of shock in the depths of Diego’s periwinkle gaze, but it burns out quickly, like a shooting star.

  “There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there? I saw your reaction. Do you think I’m la ladrona now?”