by Holly Hook
And if she was still here, she would be, even if she knew the truth about Janelle and her father.
Janelle faced the sky. Stars peeked out from holes in a canopy, but the holes were getting smaller and farther apart. The first bands of the tropical storm--it would probably be a hurricane by time it got here--would arrive by morning. Then Andrina would pounce on Cancun, killing everyone in her path until she got to Janelle and--
"Jewelry off," she ordered, undoing the clasp on her necklace. She choked back a sob. This was the only thing she had of her mother. Andrina had torn apart the one photograph she had of her.
Tina wouldn't have wanted her to throw the world to the mercy of Andrina.
Ever.
Janelle had to remind herself of that. She took off the necklace and let it dangle in front of her. The dolphin had such a cute little smile. After tonight, she'd never see it again.
It was her final link to her old life.
Janelle clutched the chain tighter, so tight that her hand paled around it.
"You okay?" Gary asked next to her. His voice was soft, like the pillow she rested her head on whenever she got a migraine.
"I'm not sure." The dolphin swung in a breeze, the first one since they had entered the ancient city. Janelle couldn't remember when she had taken the necklace off last. It had always been a part of her, like her hair or her fingernails.
Gary undid his watch, the closest thing he had to jewelry. "My grandfather got me this for my eleventh birthday."
Another burst of wind made the leaves rustle around them. Was it a sign?
Whatever it was, Gary was in this with her. They stood together, sharing the same pain, the same sacrifice.
It was enough for her to make the decision.
Into the water the necklace would have to go.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned to the others.
"Does everyone have something to throw in?" she asked, pacing up and down the small line of troops she had assembled. "Anything valuable will work. Gary's tossing in his watch. I'm throwing in this." She mentally apologized to her mother. "Leslie? Your ring."
Her best friend turned extra pale in the moonlight, which barely peeked through the clouds now. She waved her hand through the air. Her emerald-and-gold band shone as if beckoning Huracan up from the depths. "But I found this in my attic back when we were in the seventh grade. Remember when we were digging through it to do my family tree project? It's probably worth quite a bit." But even as she said it, she unscrewed it from her finger. "Oh. You're throwing in that. Are you sure? I mean, your mom--"
"I have to."
Next to Leslie, Paul dug in his pockets. "I don't really have anything," he said, staring at her desperately. "I take it we all need to throw something in? That feels like what we need to do. Oh." He pulled something out of his baggy pocket--a wrinkled hundred dollar bill. His face fell as if it weighed a thousand pounds in his hand. "My dad and uncle gave me this before Leslie and I left Mobley. It's the last one I have."
"That'll work." Janelle vowed to replace Paul's money if they got out of here. She moved on down the line, but she couldn't miss his face squeezing in pain. It was, quite literally, the last thing his relatives had given him, a relic from the moment he'd seen them last.
It was Kenna's turn. She stared down at the water and jerked out of her trance when Janelle moved in front of her.
"What do you have?"
"No jewelry. All I've got is the phone my dad bought me for Christmas. My real dad, that is." She pulled it out, where the screen flashed as if begging to live. "This will have to work, because trust me, I have no plans to go down there and cut myself."
Janelle held in a sigh of relief. She didn't want that, either.
Sophia was last. She fumbled through her pockets much like Paul had. "I don't know if I have anything," she said. "I mean, I didn't have a chance to bring anything I cared about with me when Kenna first pulled me through Lava Express. My phone melted on the way. Literally. Everything from my grandmother is back at my house in North Carolina."
Janelle racked her brains, but came up with nothing. "We probably have enough right here," she said, jealous that she hadn't left her necklace back at the hotel. "Just stand back when we do this. And remember, so long as Kenna's away from you, Hyrokkin can help you if things get bad."
Another gust of wind blew through the forest, restless and impatient. Sophia walked away into the darkness as if it had shooed her away.
Janelle swallowed and faced the cenote again, which looked like the mouth of the earth, waiting for easy prey to fall in. They'd be fine if Sophia didn't toss anything in, right? There was nothing she could provide. Maybe this was enough to make Huracan happy. Besides, if she stayed back, he might not even know that she ever had anything to do with this.
If this worked.
Janelle motioned for everyone to step forward. Four sets of footsteps stayed close behind as she pulled apart the rope fence and scrambled downhill towards the glass surface of the water. It shone with an unnatural light, like it radiated power that only Tempests and Outbreakers could see. Or maybe it was just the moonlight hitting it weird.
It seemed to take hours to make it to the bottom of the slope. It was no wonder that the caretakers of this place had roped it off. The ground turned into a sheer cliff inches from her feet, dropping right down into bedrock. How deep was this pit? Janelle wondered for a second if it really did lead down into some ancient underworld.
Gary joined her, and then Leslie and Paul. Kenna, of course, arrived last and looked away as she stopped at the base of the hill.
"Maybe we should say something," Kenna said. "It feels kind of pointless if we don't."
She was right.
"You'd better do it," Gary told her, his voice quiet even in the silence. "You're Tempest High Leader. If anyone can wake him up, it's you."
Janelle sucked in a breath and held up her necklace. It dangled, spinning. She thought of Mel and Elise and even the police officer Andrina had vaporized back in Mobley and who know how many others.
Going back now would be an insult to them all.
"Huracan," she said, shocked at how her voice echoed across the water. "We ask that you wake up and help us. Everything you've done to make sure the world runs the way it should is falling apart." She closed her eyes, remembering it all. Andrina taking Outbreaker breath. Releasing Tempests and Outbreakers. Janelle projected that image into the water, sending it to whatever waited.
She opened her eyes and paused for a long time, watching her necklace hang over the water.
Letting go of it was so much harder than she imagined. The silver chain plunged down into the water, shining in the moonlight and floating on the surface. At last, the dolphin charm sank under and made the final plunge. One final glint got through the water before it vanished into the murky darkness.
Gone.
Gary threw his watch into the water. It, too, floated for a second before the cenote accepted it and pulled it down to the bottom.
Kenna tossed in her phone. The water took a long time deciding as it drifted along on its surface, leaving ripples in its wake. But at last, it caved and the phone tipped forward, following the watch and the necklace to its final resting place.
"My dad's going to kill me," Kenna breathed.
Leslie's ring took the trip next. It didn't take long at all to start sinking. The emerald tipped down and led the plunge, taking with it the happy memories of Leslie and Janelle digging through her attic.
At the end of the line, Paul wrinkled up the hundred dollar bill and tossed it. It drifted on the wind and landed on the surface, making a perfect circle of ripples. The bill floated aimlessly around the water.
"I knew it would float," Paul said, unable to hide the relief in his voice. "I don't think this is going to work."
Leslie took his arm. "You're not going out there to get it."
"No. Don't," Janelle told him. "Let it be." A jealous part of her bristle
d at the fact that Paul might get to keep his relic. "If Huracan's going to--"
The bill dipped under the water so fast that it left a wake.
Janelle jumped in place.
"Whoa," Gary said next to her. "I guess he accepted it."
"No kidding," she said, waiting.
The glass surface of the cenote refused to crack. It was almost if it had changed to ice. Of course, that was impossible unless Hyrokkin acted up. Which reminded her--
"Sophia, you might have to contribute something after all."
Sophia had changed her mind. She stood on the other side of Paul, barely visible in the darkness as a cloud moved back over the moon. Another round of sprinkles fell, making pattering sounds on the surrounding ground and leaves. Her lips moved like she was talking to herself, but no sound came out.
Janelle raised her voice. "Sophia--"
The girl shook her head. "I heard you." Irritation laced her words. "I think I have it covered."
"What do you mean?" If she'd thrown something into the water, Janelle had missed it.
Sophia opened her mouth to say something else, but a loud rumble cut her off.
Gary grabbed her arm before she could move and pulled her back up the hill. The surface, she noticed, was starting to bubble.
Chapter Nine
Paul leapt in front of Leslie and pushed her back with his weight. The water looked how he imagined a geyser might look before it blew. He'd never seen a geyser, of course, but his dad had told him about them at Yellowstone during one of his home-school sessions.
Whatever Sophia had said under her breath had put the finishing touch on their sacrifice.
"Over the fence," he ordered, shoving Leslie over the rope and back onto even ground.
"Paul--" Leslie started.
She was silenced by another, louder rumble. The water rolled as if lava were rising underneath. He glanced at Kenna to make sure she wasn't glowing orange. Nothing. Volcanoes had nothing to do with this.
"Back," he shouted, unable to hear himself over the noise. The security guards back in the city had to be hearing this, but they were the least of their problems.
He'd hardly had time to shout that before the whole cenote exploded upward.
The noise deafened him. The ground shook as he and Leslie fell to it. He threw his arm over her as a spray of water fell on them both. It was cold. Freezing, almost. Someone screamed, but there was no hope of seeing who in the downpour that had caught them all. He could barely breathe. His hair washed down into his face, blinding him.
And then, the deluge stopped, taking the rumbling of the air and the trembling of the ground right with it.
Paul lay against Leslie for what felt like eons. The world had stilled around them. It might have ended for all he knew.
A single cricket chirped nearby.
It was the signal he needed to open his eyes, blinking the water out of them.
Paul coughed. "Leslie, are you okay?"
She shivered next to him, pulling the hair from her face and sitting up. "I think so."
His relief got the better of him, and he leaned over and kissed her as hard as he had back in Mobley.
"Kenna!" someone shouted.
They separated as he remembered.
Kenna and water did not mix.
"Crap," Leslie said as she sprang up.
The others were already up and about. Sophia waved Janelle and Gary over to where Kenna lay limp on the ground in a muddy puddle. Kenna lifted one arm to take Sophia's hand, but it flopped back down against her side. It was hard to believe that the girl limp on the ground and muddy was actually a volcano goddess.
But they all had weaknesses. Paul had to remember that.
"We're so sorry. I didn't know that was going to happen," Janelle breathed as she and Gary helped her to her feet. "We shouldn't have made you come with us."
Kenna blinked and opened her eyes all the way, leaning on Janelle for support. "I'll be okay as soon as I'm dry," she said. "It's okay. You didn't know. And you didn't make me come along, by the way."
Janelle sighed in relief. At least her fiery temper wasn't coming to the surface. The water might have something to do with that.
"What happened?" Sophia asked, wringing out her hair and watching as the water in it slopped down to the dirt. "Did the pond just explode or something?"
"Seems like it," Janelle said, helping Kenna towards the trail. The ground was still dry there, light brown instead of mud. "Someone check around. See if we have any new company."
Paul's stomach flip-flopped. He knew who she meant. If Huracan was around, wouldn’t they have heard from him by now? But he knew what else she meant, too. He and Leslie and Sophia had the job of searching around for him.
"Come on," he said, heading back towards the water. Leslie couldn't stay an Outbreaker for the rest of her life. They had to do this.
The water level in the cenote had dropped so much that he could see dark spots on the sides of the limestone that might have been algae or fungus. He could spot mud on the bottom of the pit, gray and clay-like. Anyone falling down there now would have no hope of crawling back out. The thought made him dizzy and made him link his hand tighter in Leslie's.
"Something definitely happened," Leslie said with a cough as they made their way around the pit. "I think security will be down here any second. We have to hurry."
She was right. There was no getting around that with the noise. He had a feeling it hadn't been for walking disasters only.
Then, right at the edge of the pit, Paul made out a shape.
A human shape, drenched and lying facedown on the ground.
His heart about stopped. At first he thought it was a security guard caught in the explosion, dead. But a glance of a bare back and something that looked like the lower half of a tunic confirmed that this was something different altogether. The man must be in his late twenties, with long black hair that stuck to him like seaweed and a giant headdress with so many feathers that it seemed like the weight of it alone had caused him to collapse.
Nothing was as telling as the grayish-blue glow rippling around the guy.
Paul froze as a wave of electricity washed over him.
"I bet that's Huracan," he said, feeling small and stupid all of a sudden.
Leslie squeezed his hand so tight it might break. Her skin was milk and her freckles chocolate chips. "I think so, too."
"Is he dead?" Paul asked.
The god's back slowly rose and fell. He was breathing. Another fresh wave of stupid washed over Paul. Of course a god couldn't die--right? He couldn't. Not if he was going to save Leslie and free her from his curse.
"Guys." Kenna practically flopped up to them, making him jump. "We have to go. Security's coming. I see flashlights back there."
Paul swore and pointed at the figure on the ground. "But--"
If Kenna was shocked to see the storm god himself on the ground, she didn't show it. "Grab him. Drag him. I would, but I'm still recovering." She turned to wave the others towards her. Janelle, Gary, and Sophia came running away from the trail, feet thudding. "Into the trees. Come on. Let's go."
The last thing Paul wanted to do was drag a storm god along the ground in case he woke. But his legs moved, carrying him closer and into a thicker cloud of electricity. Leslie appeared right beside him, taking Huracan's arm and pleading with him in silence for help. He obliged, taking his other arm as Janelle and Gary took his legs. That was better than dragging him through the dirt and leaving a trail the security could follow. Not to mention, it was best to do all they could not to make him angry.
Voices floated towards them. They had little time.
"Trees," Janelle ordered.
Paul broke into run, holding up the god's arm. His head bobbed up and down as they ran, hair dragging along the grass. Paul hadn't yet seen his face, but his imagination was already going down roads he hadn't been down since he was five. The bogeyman. That slasher in the ski mask he'd seen on TV way before his d
ad had thrown out the electronics. A skull he'd seen the neighbors using as a Halloween decoration one time that he hadn't wanted to go near when he was three. A god who had doomed the Outbreakers and the Tempests both hundreds of years ago couldn't exactly have the face of a saint.
Underbrush crashed around him as they reached the forest cover. Leslie stumbled next to him, almost sending Huracan's face down into something that looked like a pretty big anthill. Paul wasn't sure if that would be good thing or a bad thing.
That not knowing was the worst.
"Here," Janelle puffed at last as they reached a small clearing where four tree trunks boxed them in. The canopy overhead blocked out almost all of the light. The Tempest High Leader had turned into a black blob only feet from him. "Set him down. Face-up, if we can."
Paul kneeled down, letting Huracan sink gently to the forest floor. Janelle and Gary rolled him over. At least, it sounded like that was what they were doing. He still couldn't make out the old god's face. If it wasn't for the faint glow, he'd have thought there was nothing but a lopsided log lying next to him.
"They didn't notice us?" Sophia whispered.
Flashlights bobbed through the trees not too far away, but they were focused away, on the pit that had spewed out much of its water. Shouts followed. A radio crackled. The guards out there were probably wetting themselves at the sight of the mess, not looking around for intruders. It was a blessing, a distraction to keep them away. His dad wouldn't want him to end up in jail after what had happened back in Mobley.
"Ummmm…."
Paul jumped at the noise.
Huracan was waking up.
Paul suppressed an urge to send a kick at the god's side.
If it wasn't for him, he wouldn't have been forced to turn Leslie. His mother wouldn't be dead. His dad and uncle wouldn't be in prison. Paul turned away and faced one of the trees instead, focusing all his hatred on it. A monster was waking inside him, one he thought he'd tamed when he'd thrown the table on Thomas Curt and killed him.