Manuel draws near, his brow puckered. “What’s the word?”
“Words, multiple.” I finger the end of my braid, letting the strand tickle my lips and chin. “Enemy, power, near, consume, unnatural, andhurry.But … they don’t fit together. Almost like—like they’re meant for two different people.”
Manuel is quiet while holding up his machete and surveying the area. I pace around, carding through ideas and impressions, gut feelings and intuition.
“Byenemy,” Manuel asks, “does she mean the person who’s planting the flower?”
“It has to be. I don’t know who else Luna could be talking about. But why doesn’t she just name the culprit?”
“With Luna, everything is carefully measured,” Chaska says. “Intentional. She doesn’t pick random shapes; it’s all supposed to mean something. She gives me the words, and a seer is meant to form the rest of the story. Perhaps the name doesn’t matter. After all, it could be someone we don’t know. And in that case, what difference does a name make?”
He lets out a low whistle. “A lot of room for error. Not to mention pressure.”
“Shhh,” Chaska murmurs. “Let us think for a moment.”
“I’m close to understanding,” I say as I continue pacing. “I can feel it.”
“Would you mind standing still?” Manuel asks. “So I can keep an eye on you while looking out for … jaguars.”
He doesn’t saymonster, and I’m glad for it. I stop walking, my arms flapping. “I’m missing something, or maybe I’m feelingtoomuch. I have so many options, so many ways I can interpret her—” My eyes widen when I’m hit with a flash of realization. “It’s the flower.”
“Yes, we know that already,” he says.
“No, I mean the flower isn’t meant to beconsumed.” I reach out and grasp his arm. “The monsters are people who’ve consumed the flower. The plant not only corrupts the earth but human flesh, too.”
“Of course,” Chaska says breathlessly. “Poor Urpi must have eaten it.”
“How is that possible?” Manuel demands. “Where did the flower come from?”
“I don’t know but—”
A harsh, long scream rents the air. Manuel spins in the direction of camp, shoulders tightening. “Stay here—”
“No,” I whisper, suddenly understanding the urgency. “They’re coming—”
Chaska bolts out of the clearing, shouting for her cousins. She disappears into the brush. Another bellowing shriek follows, full of agony. My stomach lurches, and I sag against Manuel, feeling Luna’s frantic breath against my edges.
“I can’t leave them,” he says.
“Neither can I.”
He grasps my hand and together we run toward whatever horror our friends face.
CAPÍTULO
Treinta y dos
I pump my legs, racing after Manuel, ignoring all of his lessons. I touch branches and vines, stumble over a log. My feet kick up leaves, no doubt disturbing the homes of tarantulas and poisonous frogs. When the glow of the fire looms ahead, Manuel spins and hauls me behind a tree.
“What are you—”
Manuel slaps a firm hand over my mouth, his fingers dry, unlike my sweat-slicked ones. His face is as calm as ever, and for the first time I wonder if it’s because he knows that if he shows fear, I’d be too frightened to go on. He peers around the vast tree trunk. Moss clings to the branches overhead, and I brush aside a clump, staring at Manuel, at the part of the jungle within my sight, and at my own weaponless hands. The only thing I have on me is my telescope and those useless darts.
He removes his hand and speaks, his voice a mere strip of sound. I have to lean in to hear him at all. “Don’t move from this spot. I’ll be close by.”
I nod as he walks away, vanishing into a thicket of tree ferns. I blink back tears, struggling to keep calm. An army of ants climbs up the long line of the trunk, disappearing into a gaping black hole. I take a half step away, shuddering. Leaves drip tears onto the top of my head. It takes everything in me not to run for my life, screaming at the top of my voice. I clutch my stomach, spinning in a slow circle, half waiting, half dreading for the monster to come.
I wait for minutes. Every second feels like an hour.
