Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

MY FINGERS ARE PRUNES BY the time I stop shivering.

I've been soaking in a hot bath since Felipe left. I barely managed to drag myself up the stairs and into the tub from how violently I was trembling.

That wasn't Felipe telling me to meet him in the forest—it was the black smoke .

It seemed to possess him, and after delivering its message, Felipe's eyes went back to their usual amber. Then he booked it out of here as quickly as the driver who first dropped me off at la Sombra's gate.

It was Felipe, though, and not the black smoke, who kissed me against my will.

I thought he and I were friends with adjacent obsessions, but it turns out he wanted something from me this whole time. He's been trying to seduce me because he thinks I'm his path to becoming a Brálaga. I was so desperate for a friend, I overlooked the red flags—his fixation on the castle, Beatríz's warning, my own gut instinct.

Still, I really thought Felipe and I were friends. I can't believe he would forcefully kiss me like that…

Then again, didn't I just do the same thing to Sebastián?

I guess you don't need to be a monster to do monstrous things.

I open Mom's denim suitcase because I'm officially out of clean clothing. I pull on a pair of charcoal leggings and a knitted gray sweater that's not my style, but it makes me feel warm and cozy and like my parents are close.

Nightfall is an hour or two away, and since I don't want Sebastián to remind me I'm malnourished, I head to the kitchen for dinner. As I'm climbing down the stairs, I see the grapes and crackers on the center landing, and I remember Felipe's basket.

I dart up the other leg of stairs, and I don't slow until I reach the moon temple. There, I find the basket and lift the lid. Alongside the bread, crackers, and spreads is a Ziploc bag with a small red book.

I collect all the food off the floor and bring everything with me to the kitchen. Then I sit on a stool at the large center island, as if I were in the attic of Libroscuro. I rest the book on the stone countertop in the dying daylight, poised to read it, which feels more daunting without Felipe here to translate.

The title page reads: Hijos de la noche. Children of the night. Or, since hijo is the masculine version of child, it could mean Sons of the night .

When I open it, I know why Felipe wanted to share this tome with me—it has pictures. They seem to have been drawn in pencil, but they are as detailed as photographs.

I flip through the pages until I get to the section on Vampiros . In the first set of illustrations, they look more like large bats and have nothing in common with Sebastián. I flip ahead to the next part, where the vampires look like winged demons with humanlike faces and fangs. I turn the pages faster, until at last I arrive at some lines of text, and I read:

Los vampiros están en guerra perpetua por el trono.

All I understand is vampiros and guerra, which means war. So the vampires are at war… perpetua, is that perpetually? For the trono —thunder?

No, that's trueno . Trono is… throne ! The vampires are at perpetual war for the throne.

I read on: El rey dirige el ejército y el príncipe gobierna desde el castillo en la sombra de su padre.

After rereading the line a few times, I work out that it says: The king leads the army, and the prince governs from the castle in his father's shadow.

I turn the page to see a construction that eclipses la Sombra and spans the entire spread. The castle seems to have been built inside a massive mountain, but the rocky walls are so intricately carved they look like papier-maché.

Across the next spread of pages are grids of comic-like boxes with drawings of the goings-on at the vampire castle. There's no text, but the depictions are so detailed that the subtext is clear to make out.

The figures are drawn as black silhouettes, but the king and the prince stand out by the crowns hovering over their heads. There's a third crowned figure, but they are slain in the first box by shadowy beings when the prince is still a tiny speck of ink. I suspect it was the queen, his mom.

The king goes to war, leaving a thick ring of guards around the prince to protect him. Battle after battle make the king more and more bloodthirsty; meanwhile, the prince's training at the castle seems exhaustive and unending. Until one day, the king takes his son to the field of battle because they are facing an old enemy—the beings who killed his mother.

The prince is ruthless, tearing through the ranks like Death itself. It is here that he gains his name and reputation, and a solitary line of text hovers over his crown: el Príncipe de Hierro .

The Iron Prince.

Following his triumph, the prince is locked away at the castle, and the king has him more protected than before. As word spreads of his son's strength, more enemies come to test it. The king and his military keep protecting the boundaries of their realm, going to war with army after army, while the prince continues his studies at the castle, in preparation to rule.

Yet the longer he's caged, the greater the prince's discontent grows. Thought bubbles show that while he sits on the throne, he dreams of being out on the field of battle. His heart hardens to everyone around him, until he loses interest in everything. The last frame is a drawing of the prince's silhouette in a white box, surrounded by emptiness.

I turn the page.

This new spread has fewer boxes, so the pictures are bigger, and there's a line of text at the bottom. The drawings show a series of figures being brought before the prince to face his ruling on various disputes—the details aren't spelled out, but that doesn't matter. Not a single subject leaves the castle with their head.

The text reads:

El príncipe es más temido que el rey. él es responsable por tantas muertes y mutilaciones en su reino como su padre en el campo de guerra.

I work out the translation quicker than I expected: The prince is even more feared than the king. He is responsible for as many deaths and mutilations in his kingdom as his father on the field of war.

I flip the page.

A detailed portrait of el Príncipe de Hierro takes up the whole paper. My eyes trace over the dark hair, deep eyes, and flawless features many times before my brain registers the meaning.

I've met the Iron Prince.

I call him Sebastián.

My hands and nails are caked with dirt when I return to the castle.

I open the door to find Sebastián waiting for me in the entryway, and I stumble back, startled by the sight of him.

"What happened?" he asks, studying my fingers.

My pulse quickens. Does he know? my heart seems to be asking. He can't know, answers my mind. Night hadn't yet fallen when I left the castle.

Still, I flash to the drawings of the subjects he beheaded when he was Prince Bastian, and I know I should be honest. If he learns what I'm keeping from him, he'll kill me for sure…

And yet. Sebastián doesn't remember that version of himself, and I intend for it to stay that way.

So instead, I push back thoughts of the Iron Prince and all the violence he's inflicted and say, "I—I tripped." Then I stride past him to wash my hands in the closest bathroom.

"It is the full moon, and your aunt is not back." He seems too preoccupied by that to pick up on my new secret. "You should not be venturing out after dark until this lunar phase has passed."

I think I'll wait to tell him about the black smoke's invitation to meet at the woods at midnight.

"I've been thinking," I say as I dry my hands on a towel, "that just like we studied the limits of the black smoke, we should also study the spell's limits on you. That might help us see something we're missing."

Plus, I need to know your exact limitations, in case your memory returns and you become a threat to me, is what I don't add.

"How do you propose we do that?" he asks as I step out of the bathroom.

"Let me just get my journal—"

Sebastián disappears and reappears in the span of a breath. He moves so fast, it's dizzying. Then he hands me my pen and Dad's leather journal.

I haven't had a chance to write in it yet, and I open the blank book to a random page, bring it to my nose, and take a deep whiff. The papery musk hits my head with a rush, like a drug.

"Should I leave you two alone?" he asks.

"Let's start with the front door," I say, turning away to hide my grin. Who knew the shadow beast could be funny?

"What would happen if you tried to walk outside right now?" I ask once we're in front of the entrance again.

Sebastián complies by turning the handle, but it doesn't budge. He melts into shadow to go through the wood, but nothing happens. I twist the handle myself, swinging the door open, and he materializes on the threshold, staring out into the night.

At first, I think he's in a trance. Then I realize he's trying to break out of an invisible hold; it's as if a barrier is keeping him indoors.

I flip to the beginning of the journal and start a list:

Sebastián's Limitations

He cannot leave la Sombra through the front door.

"I have another idea," I say. "Come with me."

I hurry in the direction of the tower, and as we cut across the mirror room, he says, "I know where you are taking me. I have read all those books, and none of them holds any answers."

"But have you tried going out to the balcony?" I ask, and from his frown I know he hasn't seen it. When we reach the library, I point up to the window that opens, the ladder still positioned beneath it. Sebastián sweeps up the steps, and when he unlatches the stained glass window, he tries to go through it.

Again, he comes up against an invisible wall.

He cannot go out onto the tower's balcony.

When he meets me back on the ground, he says, "We can continue later. You need to eat."

That had been my original plan hours ago, before I discovered the Iron Prince. On our way to the kitchen, I recount everything we know about his condition. "Okay, so you appear at night and disappear when the sun comes out, correct?"

"Yes," says Sebastián.

"And I'm the only person who can see you. So far."

"That is right."

Sebastián opens the fridge, and he pulls out a blood bag in surprise. Then he looks at me.

"I appreciate you making sure I'm fed," I say with a shrug. "Just wanted to return the favor."

" Thank you, " he says, his manners seeming to take even him by surprise, and he buries his face back in the fridge, busying himself with taking out plastic containers and setting them on the stone counter.

I reach behind me with my arms and pull myself onto the countertop, resting the open journal on my lap so I can add two more limitations to the list:

He disappears during the day.

Only I can see him.

I open a container with cold croquetas and bite into one. "So, you've lost your memory, but you still know your name and that you come from another realm," I say after swallowing, fishing for information. "What else do you remember?"

"I know that I do not hail from your reality. I know I feel a sense of urgency to get home. Yet I am missing the why, where, and how." He hands me a glass of water to wash down the breaded ball.

"You also know about witches because you accused me of being a bruja," I point out before sampling another croqueta.

"I know of all species, including your kind," he says, scrutinizing my expression as I chew, "and I know something is up. You have barely met my eyes tonight. What are you not telling me?"

I can't help wondering if it wouldn't be best to come clean now, while I still have the breath to speak. If he ever finds out I buried the book that contains his identity outside, where he can never reach it, he may not give me time to explain myself.

I swallow, hard.

"We're partners," I say, stating the obvious as my mind races to decide what I should do. "We have to be able to trust each other."

My heart pounds harder, and I keep speaking over it, worried the tempo shift will give me away. "But the truth is, I-I've broken that trust," I admit, and when he frowns with suspicion, I blurt, "by touching you without your consent. And I want to apologize for breaking your boundaries."

He looks stumped for a blink, and then he bursts into laughter, his daz zling smile radiating light like a sunburst. "Shall I apologize for my numerous attempts to eat you?"

I try forcing a chuckle, but his words make my heart go cold. He has no idea how many killings he's committed in his lifetime.

"Is that really all this is about?" he prods.

I don't meet his gaze as I nod in assent, and I know I'm going to have to sell this better. "Today, I was on the other end of what I did to you," I say softly, "and I didn't like it. So I want you to know I'm sorry, and it won't happen again."

I feel him leaning into the counter, and without looking up, I know his face is just a couple of feet from mine. "What do you mean?"

"Felipe came over," I say, closing my eyes so Sebastián won't glean more than what I choose to share.

"What happened?" There's no hint of a smile in his voice anymore.

"I saw the black smoke."

"Describe it." He sounds even closer, but I keep my eyes shut.

I flash to Felipe grabbing me, forcing his tongue—"It happened when Felipe kissed me," I say, blinking my eyes open to keep tears from forming.

Sebastián's face is just inches away, his intense stare locked onto mine, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

"I think you're probably right about a spell protecting me," I go on, because I need to keep talking so I won't break my vow not to touch him. "The black smoke took over everything, like on the subway, then it receded into Felipe's eyes—"

"Did he hurt you?"

Sebastián's voice is quieter now, and more lethal.

"He didn't get to."

Sebastián doesn't move away, nor does his stare break with mine. He's the Iron Prince, supernatural royalty with a penchant for bloodshed, and every instinct in my mind is telling me to stay away from him.

But I can't.

He's intoxicating. The Vampire Prince belongs to another world, but the shadow beast is all mine, and I don't want to share him.

"Every time I am about to see you," he says after a stretch of silence, "I wonder if this will be the night I take what I want and leave you a bloodless corpse."

I swallow, my heart sputtering. Are we really back to the subject of my murder—?

"And yet," he murmurs, a softness coming over his silver gaze, "every night, when I am with you, I feel… content ."

He frowns, like that's wrong, and both my breath and heartbeat seem to hinge on what he says next.

"I am not sure if that is the word," he says, "but it makes me want to have you around."

Warmth spreads through me, until I hear, "Yet I know there is more you are not telling me."

I feel the dirt crusting my nails, even though I washed my hands clean. I know I should tell him who he is, but as soon as I do, I'll be awakening Prince Bastian and killing Sebastián. And I can't bring myself to do that.

"I have a new lead," I say, over the renewed racing of my heart. "Remember how I told you the smoke receded into Felipe's eyes? Well, then he spoke to me, only I don't think it was him. His voice sounded different, and he said: If you want answers, come to the woods at midnight. " I swallow, hard. "I'm going to check it out."

"Comedy is not your thing."

"I'm not joking."

"Then this is the worst idea you ever had."

We disagree, yet our faces lean in. The closer he gets, the harder it is to keep my lips to myself. "We'll find out," I say through gritted teeth.

"No." Sebastián's grimace turns into a glower. " You are not going. "

His body is an immovable wall blocking my way.

"You don't tell me what to do," I say, squaring my shoulders and pulling away from him.

Thunder rumbles, low and lingering, the storm forming in the back of his throat. " Try me, " he warns.

"What's that mean?" The impulse to throttle him grows as strong as the one to kiss him, and I move toward him again. My whole being feels like it's at war: my head resists the pull of my attraction, while my body begs me to let go of the reins.

"I will not let you risk your life like this."

"You mean you won't let my blood go to waste?"

I don't know why I say it, but he looks at me like I've injured him. "We had an agreement," he reminds me. "We are supposed to be partners in this investigation. It is selfish of you to risk your life and squander my chances of getting home."

The last word is a kill shot. I don't know why it defeats me, but I wish I was still as numb as the day I got here, so I wouldn't have to feel this chasm opening in my chest.

Sebastián would rather return to a home he can't remember than stay with me.

I want to find a way to empathize, to believe that in his shoes I would feel the same way—but it's only now I realize it's too late for such generosity. Sebastián is the only person I have left in the world. He's all I have.

Besides, no one has ever been mine before. Not like Sebastián is right now.

"I'm going," I say, my voice low and even. "If you do anything to stop me, you might as well kill me because our partnership will be over."

I slide to the left on the counter, and he doesn't move. So I jump down and head to my room to change. When I step back out, he's waiting for me in the crimson corridor.

"Estela, please. I cannot protect you out there. Do you understand there is a dangerous spellcaster targeting us, and nighttime is when magic is best conducted, especially on a full moon?"

I ignore him as I stride down the stairs.

"Don't go. Please," he says, following me. "Stay here, where I can protect you—"

"You can't protect me," I say without looking back. "You're a ghost."

I walk to the forest, even though I'm early. I couldn't risk staying any longer in the castle in case Sebastián tried to stop me.

I keep my head bent low against the chill as I approach the woods. At least the full moon lifts some of the darkness.

Sebastián was right about the black smoke—it's tied to me somehow. It appeared on the subway, in the castle, and earlier I felt something pass from me to Felipe when he kissed me. If I'm its carrier, then it could be a spell like Sebastián says.

But does that mean it protected me on the subway, or was it the culprit—?

The sight of the black smoke cuts off my next thought, breath, heartbeat. I stare in frozen fright as a smoky tendril reaches ahead of me, like it's leading me into the woods.

The smoke originated from my direction, further cementing it's bound to me in some way. Am I now just going to follow it into the forest in the middle of the night to meet its caster? Sebastián was right—this is a horrible idea.

And yet, isn't he desperate to break the spell keeping him here? If he were in my shoes, he wouldn't cower—he would march into the woods and seize what he wants. So I try to channel some of the Iron Prince's entitlement as I plunge into the foliage.

The trees are tight-packed, and I'm nearly tripping every other step on a raised root or loose rock. Only a few minutes in, I'm completely disoriented. I don't like lacking an escape route, and right now I am severely out of my comfort zone. I'm no good at counting steps or gauging my direction out here.

I severely regret not searching for a flashlight before leaving. I meant to find one, but I left in too much of a hurry. Sebastián is definitely a distraction, and he's hurting my investigation.

The forest is too dark to see much, but somehow the black smoke remains visible, a silvery aura making it stand out.

Something flickers in the distance ahead, and I inhale the smoky notes of a bonfire. An odd humming fills the air, and after a moment, I spy a clearing.

Red flames lick the sky.

I creep closer, and the humming grows louder. I bite back my urge to scream as I see a hooded figure facing the fire—

A hand clamps over my mouth.

I kick my legs and reach back with my fingers to fight off my attacker—

"Shh, it's me," says a familiar voice in my ear, and I stop fighting, so he lets me go.

I take a giant leap away as I turn to face Felipe. "What are you doing here?" I snap at him.

"The castle told us to come," he whispers, lowering his hand to indicate I should keep my voice down.

The castle? The black smoke is la Sombra ? "What do you mean?" I whisper back. "What do you remember?"

His face is shaded by the night, but the flames' red light reflects in his irises, making his amber eyes glow like embers. "Something happened… and a voice spoke through me."

"It was a message for me . Not you."

"Well, it showed me a picture of where to go, a spot in the woods I know well. Here. "

I don't say anything, and I wonder if he's been playing me this whole time. Is he working with Beatríz? Or whoever this hooded figure is?

"Who is that?" I ask, indicating the person humming by the fire.

"I'm sorry for what I did, Estela," says Felipe, either ignoring or avoiding my question. "I just thought—maybe if I kissed you, you'd feel it, too. But then once I started, it was like I couldn't pull away. Some force seemed to go through me."

I felt it, so I know what he means. And yet his eyes won't meet mine. Like he's still hiding something.

"Estela, you need to go."

"You want me to trust you after today?"

"I'll explain once we're safe—"

"Tell me now."

The hooded figure doesn't move or stop humming, but I have the creepy sensation they know we're here. I keep them in my peripheral vision while I argue with Felipe.

"Start speaking, or I'll scream," I warn.

"H-he told me to meet you here." Felipe sounds terrified. "He said if I did well, he would give us his blessing, and I could move into the castle."

"Who—?"

I flick my gaze to the fire again. The hooded figure is gone.

"Where'd they go?" I ask.

Felipe looks horrified. "There's no water in the fountain," he mumbles.

"What are you talking about—?" My question is barely out when black smoke blankets the air, and I can't see a thing.

"Felipe!" I call out, reaching for him.

Before I make contact, a set of fingers interlocks with mine, too rough to be his.

"Let me go!" I yell, struggling against the viselike grip.

When the hand unclenches, I dart away, arms outstretched so I won't run into a tree. And as the smoke dissipates, I find myself in the clearing.

The bonfire's warmth presses into me, its light revealing a stone bench and a clay bowl with strange etchings.

The hooded figure is here. They're standing over something long lying on the grass.

A body in a leather jacket.

Felipe.