Fear keeps me upright, rigid and tense. I can’t believe I didn’t take my weapon from Chaska. Foolish, foolish planning. I pray to Luna for Manuel to come back. I’m so desperate, I’m about to get on my knees to beseech the canopy when I hear it.
Someone moans close by.
Human.
I slowly turn, my ears straining at the hushed noise. I creep away from the tree, my heart thundering against my ribs as I will myself not to panic. Manuel hasn’t returned, watching for the monster, trying to find our friends. Another groan punctures the night. I drop to a squat, gently unfolding leaves until I see streaks of blood glistening on the jungle floor. There’s so much of it. Spread over ferns and vines, mixing with the muddy ground. I crab-walk forward until I find someone’s warm hand under a brush of greenery.
Without thinking I reach forward, grasping the open palm. “It’s all right now. I’m here to help.” The words are a whisper, barely teasing my mouth. I brush the rest of the leaves aside—notice the bone and blood on the other end—and let out a scream. I drop the hand and kick away, my boots slapping mud everywhere.
Tears carve tracks against my cheeks.
It’s one of the guards.
“Catalina,” Manuel says from above me, frantic. “Get up. We have to move.” He notices the palm and blanches. “Can you stand?”
No way. The bloody limb is a mere foot away from me.
Manuel tucks his hands under my arms and hauls me to my feet. His face startles me. Sweat greases his hairline, drips down the sharp planes of his face. His tunic is soaked through, forearms glistening in what little moonlight pokes through the canopy of trees.
“The others?”
“I can’t find them,” he says grimly. “We’re going back—”
Someone crashes through the jungle near us. The heavy panting roars in my ears. Branches snap. Manuel shoves me behind him, machete raised, reflecting the light from his luminous eyes, glowing bright against the flat black.
Kusi stumbles through a gap in the trees, his clothes stained with mud—no, not mud—blood. His spear is clutched in his hand, and quivers holding blowgun darts cross his broad chest. He’s ready for war.
“Where’s Chaska?”
“She’s not with you?” I ask.
“¡Mierda!” Kusi cries. “She went with you, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but she ran ahead the moment the screaming started,” Manuel says.
“What do they look like? The monsters?” I’m amazed I have enough saliva in my mouth to speak at all. “Did they look like poor Urpi?”
“Barely human,” he says, his face pale. “Bodies turned white. Cold skin.”
His flat voice heightens my fear.
“Where is Sonco?” Manuel asks. “We found one—part of—” He breaks off, his expression pained. “One of the guards is there. Sayri’s brother.”
The Illari follows Manuel’s line of sight and lands on the bloody limb. His face twists, the warrior brother barely containing his rage.
“Is the monster gone?” I ask. “What should we do?”
“Monsters.There’re several of them,” Kusi spits. “They came after you left. We all fought so Sonco could run back to Paititi, round up the army—”
A bloodcurdling scream cuts him off.
Chaska.
We race toward the sound, leaping over twisted roots buttressing up against massive tree trunks. We run through towering saw grass and hanging vines, through utter darkness, Manuel leading the way with his Moonsight. The green of the jungle is an ocean hiding slithering creatures, monsters with the strength of ten men, and animals with sharp teeth. I try not to think of what I’m stepping on or what’s flying around me.
“Chaska!” Kusi roars, bolting around Manuel.
He kneels beside a shaking form—it’s Chaska. He lifts her halfway. The expression on her face is stark terror, her skin ashen and pulled tight over her cheekbones. She stares at me blankly from red-rimmed eyes. Above us, several king vultures peer down with their beady eyes, patiently waiting for dinner.
