But they bite me anyway, and by the time morning comes, dozens of welts cover my legs.
That’s nothing compared to the dread that snakes up my spine at the sight of the priest, looking down at me, refreshed, magic full and ready to be unleashed.
CAPÍTULO
Treinta y cuatro
Rumi pulls me out of the pit, hauling me up and dragging me across the frozen ground. He yanks me upright by my hair. I cry out from the pain blazing against my skull, and he twists me around to face the bamboo cages. They’re empty, but my friends stand beside them, held utterly still by the priest’s magic. Manuel’s eyes flicker toward mine, and I read the anguish in them. Rumi and a couple of other creatures encircle us as the priest looks on with an impatient scowl.
I’m bone weary. Barely able to stand. Above, the day is gray. Thunderclouds hang heavily, ready to slam a wet fist onto earth’s waiting face. The conquered sun is nowhere to be seen; not even one ray of light reaches the ground. The cold is a villain all on its own. Biting and sharp against my skin.
“I’m running out of patience,” the priest says. “Here are your options. One of you will tell me the way to Paititi. If not, you’ll be killed or forced to join my army. It will be easy to find the city once I destroy the jungle. How will the city remain hidden without the trees and animals blocking my way? Now, which one of you will break first?”
Kusi and Chaska remain silent. Manuel shoots me a quick look—one the priest doesn’t miss. When he snaps his fingers, Rumi grabs Manuel and forces him to his knees. I rush forward, enraged, but Rumi holds me at bay. All traces of him are gone. I keep blinking to unsee the feral hatred in the depths of his dark eyes. But it’s still there, inches from mine, breathing cold air into my stunned face. Rumi—Ximena’s friend. The boy she’s enamored with.
This will break her heart.
Kusi is dragged to his knees then pressed shoulder to shoulder with Manuel. Chaska scrambles toward me, and no one stops her. We press close, her fingers digging into my arms. But we look to each other and make a split decision.
We won’t let the priest have Manuel and Kusi without a fight.
I jump onto Rumi’s back and tightly grip his cold throat, but he throws me off as if I were a doll. Chaska fares better. She lands a resounding kick to a monster’s face. But another slams a fist into her side—high, near her ribs. Chaska howls and drops to her knees, clutching herself. Then she’s yanked up, her arms dragged behind her. She kicks backward, but she’s held down by two monsters. Rumi locks me in a tight hold. I squirm, trying to break free.
The boys are unnaturally still—the priest’s magic again. Only their heads are allowed to move.
“Stop!” I scream, struggling. “Stop! Por favor—no!”
Rumi wraps a strong arm around my waist, his claws tearing into my tunic. The long line of his body is pressed to mine, and it feels as if I’m standing against a block of ice. The priest draws something from his leather pack. It’s a bruised flower, the petals crushed but glimmering. “Do you know what this remarkable plant is called?”
When neither boy responds, the man smiles. “In seconds that stubbornness will be a thing of the past.” He cradles the flower as if it were a baby. “This is killasisa.”
A jolt of surprise skids across my skin. It means “moon flower” in the old language.
Moon flower.
Recognition flares in Kusi’s eyes. “It’s not meant—”
“Cease talking,” the priest says coldly.
Manuel’s expression is stricken. I’ve never seen him this way before. A deep well of cavernous shadows mars the skin under his eyes. His lips press together in refusal, but the bleak cast to his face displays his sudden understanding: He won’t be able to keep the flower out of his mouth. Wary resignation settles onto his countenance. I want to run to him, save him from his fate. Manuel turns his head, his lips moving, and through my tears I struggle to understand what he’s saying.
Then at last I hear it.
“Te amo, Catalina.”
He is utterly calm. His words thrum down the length of my spine, and a heartbreaking smile stretches his lips.
“Let me go! Please!” I say between sobs, and try to break free.
But it’s too late.
The priest plucks a single petal. I squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them again, he’s forcing it between Manuel’s closed lips. He plugs Manuel’s nostrils and waits for him to gasp, then he sticks his crooked fingers into Manuel’s mouth to shove the petals down. I scream and scream until my voice is gone. Despair hits every inch of my body, and I bend, clutching my sides. Until I am numb and feel nothing, until the best part of me falls away.
I cannot live through this.
The transformation happens quickly. Manuel slumps to the ground, his skin changing, starting with his mouth and spreading like wildfire to the rest of his body. He groans as his fingers lengthen, his nails deadening into lethal claws. I understand the transformation now. That flower is of the moon—a gift Luna sent down but never used, and was probably left forgotten until this madman found it. It’s as foreign and alien as the moon itself—cold, gleaming white against the heavy black of night’s armor.
Manuel slowly stands, rolls back his broad shoulders, and tilts his head toward the priest. Kusi looks on in horror. Manuel has become a monster of the moon. A victim of this ill-used gift turned into a curse.
