Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

"FELIPE!"

The hooded figure backs away, and I sprint over. I drop to the ground by Felipe's fallen body, his clothes covered with dirt and twigs. I grab his wrist to check his pulse—

And I flash to lifting Mom's limp arm.

Heaving, I rip open Felipe's jacket and press my ear to his chest. The world shifts orientation, and I remember pushing a woman's leg off Dad's shoulder so I could listen to his heart. His chest was as silent as the train.

I gave Dad CPR first.

I trusted him to save Mom. He would know what to do, I was sure of it. I needed his help.

But I couldn't revive him.

What if I'd chosen Mom first? asks the tiny voice for the thousandth time. What if I could have saved her—?

A faint beating sounds in my ear.

It's weak, but I hear it.

"He's alive," says a man's voice, confirming it. "But not awake. He dreams… even in waking life. He believes he's destined to be one of us."

One of us.

I snap to my feet and stare at the hooded man. I recognize his accented voice. "The driver," I say. "You brought me here from the airport."

The man pulls his hood back. He has a buzz cut, piercings on both brows, and tattoos creeping up his neck—but I can still make out Beatríz's identical nose and jawline.

"I'm Mateo," he says, "but you used to call me Tío Teo."

"You're twins, " I say in awe.

"I'm sorry I couldn't introduce myself before. I wasn't ready for my sister to know I was here."

"You've been sleeping in the clínica," I say, thinking of the unmade patient bed.

"Only since Beatríz left town."

"Which I'm guessing you had a hand in," I surmise, my mind making connections at breakneck speed.

"I may have led her to believe I'd disappeared and was in danger. I've been sending her on a wild chase through Spain."

"Because you needed her away tonight," I finish. "For the full moon."

"You really inherited your mother's smarts, didn't you?" He moves toward me, and I walk around the bonfire, keeping a good distance between us.

"My dad taught me to investigate," I correct him.

He cranes his head, exposing the largest ink on his neck: a long black tower. It's la Sombra's library.

"Let's play a game—" he begins.

"I'm not playing with you."

"Are you sure?" Teo brandishes a blade from within his coat, and I barely have time to leap back when he lunges.

I shriek, darting away—and too late, I realize he's not chasing me.

Teo crouches on the ground, next to Felipe's inert body, holding the blade to his throat.

"What are you doing?" I cry out, running back.

" Playing. So what's it going to be: Truth or dare?"

"I'm not playing—"

A droplet of blood trickles down Felipe's throat, and I shout, " Truth! "

My uncle smirks, and unlike the solar power unleashed in Sebastián's smile, Teo's grin is a starless night. " Is it true that you will do what I ask to save your friend's life?"

My heart is racing so fast that I can't believe only a week ago I couldn't hear its beat. "Yes."

"Then remove your coat and lie back on that bench." He points to the stone slab.

"I'll freeze—"

"There's a fire."

"I didn't choose dare . And besides, it's your turn—"

"Pity," he says, yanking back on Felipe's hair to better expose his throat. "I thought you wanted to save his life."

I pull off my coat.

The rocky bench looks like a sacrificial altar, and as I approach, I see that there is an identical clay bowl on the other side.

"Sit down and lie back," commands Teo, and I repeat to myself: The black smoke will protect me . Even though I know it's not true. If the smoke were on my side, why would it have led me here?

"Roll up your sleeves."

I roll up my left sleeve and ask, "Did you kill my parents with a spell?"

"You flatter me," he says, gripping my wrist. "But I lack the power to—"

I swing my neck up to headbutt him—but Teo leaps back before I make contact, and he knocks me down with an elbow to the chest.

My skull thuds against the stone bench, and I squeeze my eyes shut as pain shoots through me, followed by dizziness and nausea.

"Seems like you don't care much for your friend's life," he says, grabbing my left arm and positioning it so my forearm hangs off the stone and over the clay bowl.

"What… do you want?" I ask, fighting down my dinner of cold croquetas.

I feel a pinch and cry out, my arm burning. Teo inserted a needle with a plastic tube attachment.

" Stop! " I want it to be a shout, but it's barely more than a whimper. He twists my elbow, and as the tubing fills with my blood, it snakes down and drips into the clay bowl.

"Hold still, or your friend dies," he reminds me.

Even if I wanted to fight, my bones feel too heavy to lift. Sebastián was right that I'm not eating enough. I've lost most of my strength. He was also right that I was being selfish. Now I'm going to die, and he doesn't even get a meal out of me. What a waste of my blood.

Pain rips through me again as Teo bleeds my other arm. He sorely lacks his twin's finesse inserting the needle.

"Y-you killed my parents for this?" I ask, my mouth dry.

"I'm not a murderer."

The defensive way he says it tells me he's insisted on that before.

"Then let Felipe go. You don't need him."

"You've grown up so much." Teo's face softens, and for an instant he actually looks the part of a proud uncle. "You remind me of both of them, Oli and Bea. You're everything they could have hoped you'd become."

Under different circumstances, these words, his smile, the warmth in his voice would have delighted me. His hand reaches for my face, and I turn my head away. Still, I feel his finger stroke my cheek, wiping my tears.

"What do you need my blood for?" I ask without looking at him.

"You'll know soon enough," he says, almost gently.

It feels like my body is deflating, and soon I'll disappear. Even my brain is crumpling into itself, everything shutting down as the blood drips drips drips away…

"I take it you haven't found the journals yet," he says by my ear.

I turn my head to face him, but my vision is fading. "What journals?"

"I bet she likes you," he murmurs. "You have the same chispa. Spark. "

"What journals?" I whisper, my eyelids flickering.

"Shh," he says, shutting my eyes for me with his fingers. "Buenas noches, Tela."

As blackness overtakes me, I hear him resume his humming. Only that's not what it is—he's chanting . It's the same phrase, over and over and over again…

That's the spell, I realize, visualizing the ancient parchment Felipe shared with me. Blood drawn under a full moon in the shadow of the castle—only the last line wasn't referring to nighttime. It was a chant.

No hay luz en Oscuro.

No hay luz en Oscuro.

No hay luz en Oscuro.

I open my eyes to the sun.

There's an earthy sweetness in the air. My back and neck are stiff, and I'm on the ground, my coat draped over me like a blanket.

I'm shivering and can barely move from weakness. Did Teo leave me in the forest overnight? What about Felipe?

At the thought of him, I force my knees to bend. My arm hurts as I lean on my elbow to sit up and survey my surroundings. The town of Oscuro sprawls below, along with the forest… and twisting my neck, I look up to see la Sombra looming over me.

Teo must have carried me back to the castle. Strange that he didn't cross the gate, even though his sister isn't home. Is it possible he knows about Sebastián?

There are Band-Aids on both my arms, and twin bruises are already forming where he inserted the needles. I wince with pain as I stand up, head pulsing.

Miraculously, the key to the castle is still zipped inside my hoodie's pocket. Once indoors, I go straight to the kitchen and tear into a loaf of bread with my teeth. I drink as much water as I can, finish the gazpacho, and stack crackers with jamón serrano, cheese, and olives until I'm fit to burst.

I don't see any signs of Beatríz being back. I should call the cops and tell them about Felipe and my uncle and urge them to locate my aunt. Instead, I call Libroscuro.

I dig out the business-turned-library card, and I go into Beatríz's room because it has the only phone I've seen in the castle. I dial the number and hope someone picks up.

"Buen día, se ha comunicado con Libroscuro, ?con qué le puedo ayudar?"

It's Felipe's father. "Arturo? Soy Estela."

"Ah, Estela, how-are-you?" he asks, making each word sound like its own sentence.

"?Dónde está Felipe?"

"Ayer se fue a Oviedo a visitar unos amigos. Vuelve en unos días." He's visiting friends in Oviedo.

"?Cuándo habló con él?" I ask Arturo when he last spoke with his son.

"Tempranito esta ma?ana. Me llamó desde ahí." Felipe called him early this morning.

Relief comes first, followed by confusion. After what happened last night, Felipe just took off? He didn't bother to check on me, or tell the authorities what happened?

"?Quieres que le pase algún mensaje?" prods Arturo after a few seconds of silence.

"No, gracias," is all I manage to get out before hanging up. I have no message for Felipe because I have no words.

I desperately need to take a bath, but I can barely keep my eyes open. The loss of blood, the lack of energy, all the food I just scarfed down… it's too much, and I'm overcome with sleep.

I barely make it to my bed before passing out.

I awaken to twin full moons. Sebastián's eyes.

"You did not return before sunup," he says, his voice low and measured. He is seated at my side, in an armchair he's moved closer to the bed. "You have lost a lot of blood."

His tone is more melodic today, like it's spiked with something I can't identify, but at least I don't hear hints of hostility anymore. "What happened?" he asks.

"Beatríz has a twin brother," I say, sitting up gingerly. "Teo is the brujo behind the black smoke. Felipe was just the messenger—he met me at the woods and tried talking me out of going. But then the black smoke spread, and next thing I knew, I was facing my uncle, and Felipe had been knocked out."

"You encountered the brujo?" asks Sebastián, his tone still hard to pin down. His voice has shifted into an even less familiar register, like a musician reaching for a new note.

"He bled me from both arms under the full moon, chanting No hay luz en Oscuro. " I say it quickly like that will help me not hear it.

Sebastián's gaze jumps to my arms. "May I?" he murmurs.

My belly flips when I nod. His cold fingers are gentle as he takes my left arm and pulls back my long sleeve, revealing an ugly bruise where Teo drew my blood. Sebastián doesn't say anything, and his head is dipped down, so I can't see his eyes.

"This must be why the brujo has not risked approaching the castle." His hands pull away from mine.

"What do you mean?"

"He knows if he comes here, I will kill him."

His voice is pure winter, and I feel like I'm seeing the Iron Prince. "But you can't touch Beatríz," I say, "so what makes Teo different?"

"If he is the spell's caster, we are bound to each other. Even if he has found a way to protect himself, I do not need to touch him to throw a blade through his heart."

Hearing Sebastián speak so coolly about murder makes my gut clench.

"How did you get out alive?" he asks me, and I think I hear a flicker of suspicion.

"I woke up this morning outside the castle," I say, squaring my chest in anticipation of having to battle Sebastián's distrust again.

But there's no coldness in his expression. If anything, what's throwing me off is his newfound concern.

"Most likely the brujo still wants something from you." As he says this, Sebastián looks almost worried .

"What more could he want from me?" I ask, my exhale shaky.

"From us, " he amends. "There must be a reason we were brought together."

Brought together. I hate how much I love the sound of that.

I nod in assent, but I can't imagine any reason in any universe that would require bringing me together with el Príncipe de Hierro.

"I will gather some dinner for you," he says.

"No—I want to get up. I'll come with you."

He's patient with my slow movements, and when we get to the kitchen, I heat up some paella that was given to me at Felipe's. Then I slide onto the countertop and start eating.

"I do not think I have ever seen you eat this much, or this heartily," he says, sounding pleased as I devour the food.

"That's because you didn't see me this morning," I say, covering my mouth as I finish chewing. "I was like a wild animal foraging for food in the fridge."

Parched, I take a drink of the water he set down for me. When I finish, Sebastián collects everything, and I slide off the counter. The dishes are clean in seconds, and it's quite breathtaking to watch.

Even with a full belly, a biting chill seeps under my skin, and I turn around to see if a window is open. Yet it's not the weather without that's icy, but the climate within.

My parents are gone, Beatríz is gone, Felipe is gone, and, soon, Sebastián will be gone. After all, he's a future king.

My curse is to be alone.

Sebastián comes over and inspects my face. I wish he would slide a finger under my chin and tip my mouth back to meet his, like in the movies—but he keeps a buffer of space between us.

"You are not alone," he whispers, and I'm reminded of the first words Lety spoke to me.

"Everyone abandons me," I breathe, wincing because it's true. "You will, too." Everything about Sebastián lures me in. His moonlight gaze, his starry musk, his chiseled features…

He keeps staring at me, like he's processing what I've said, and I hate that he doesn't jump to deny it.

"Estela."

The way he says my name makes my knees weak.

"These new feelings you awaken in me are more terrifying than not knowing who I am."

I'm not sure I heard him right.

"I may not remember my past, but I do know that the delicate things of this world, like flowers, do not grow where I am from. We do not have a word that is the equivalent to nurture. I am certain I have never kept anything alive, for I am a creature designed for death.

"Yet last night, when you left to the woods, I fell into a dark mood that was not borne of greed or rage or bloodthirst, but fear . I was powerless to protect you… my favorite flower."

Sebastián seems to be stripping himself of armor as he speaks, and I can't even think.

"It was not until I found you alive and asleep that my fear abated," he goes on, "and a new sensation swept over me. All at once, I felt relieved, content, and safe."

"You care, " I say, bewildered. "For me ." My high pitch of disbelief is almost comical.

"This caring, " says Sebastián, dipping his head so we're eye to eye, "it feels connected to something greater. A force stronger than any magic."

I nod. "It leads to love."

" Love, " he repeats. "May I try something that will require touching you?"

"Um, sure."

He opens his arms and moves toward me, then he links his hands around my back, embracing me. Resting my head against his chest, I hear crickets and owls and the ocean's surf.

We don't speak as he holds me. The longer we hug, the more my stiff joints loosen, until even breathing feels easier than it has in a long time.

"I have tried so hard to resist my attraction to you," he says when we pull apart. "May I kiss you?"

"Ye—"

His mouth consumes mine.

There's nothing cold about him anymore as our tongues tangle, and heat blazes up my middle. I feel his hands grip my waist, and suddenly I'm seated on the counter, closer to his height.

As we kiss, his fingers graze up and down my sides, making me tingle all over. His featherlight strokes grow longer, traveling down my hip bone and scaling the rungs of my rib cage. His caresses stop when they reach the bottom of my bra and the waistband of my pants.

It's like my entire range of physical sensation has narrowed to his touch. Wherever his fingers are, goose bumps grow.

We kiss until my mouth goes numb. And for the first time since my parents died, I don't feel alone.

I'll do whatever it takes to hold on to Sebastián and keep Prince Bastian from returning.

I feel different in the morning. Like I've shed my old skin, exposing a fresh layer that's still sensitive and raw to the world.

A small smile tugs on my lips as I think of Sebastián, and I arch into a stretch as a massive balloon swells in my chest—

Pain flashes through my arms, and I remember Teo. The balloon pops.

I jump out of bed and head to Beatríz's room— still untouched . Teo said he led her away from here, but how could she not have left me a cell number to reach her? She has a landline in her room, so she could at least call from a public phone to check in.

I dart downstairs to check the kitchen. "Beatríz?" I call out as I search.

When I don't see any sign of her, I head back to my room. I need to take notes on everything that's happened if I'm going to work this out, so I go to my bathroom to retrieve Dad's leather journal from my period drawer—

I take it you haven't found the journals yet.

Teo's words come flying back to me, and I still on the staircase landing.

What did he mean? What journals?

My hunger for breakfast battles my thirst for knowledge, but since I don't know where to start my search, food wins. I make myself pan con tomate while I consider where to begin.

The most obvious location is the library, since it's where texts are shelved. And Felipe made a good point about the ceiling being flat when the tower is arched, so there's solid secret room potential. I review other possibilities in my mind: Beatríz's bedroom (already searched), the secret wing with the dungeon (where I'm not eager to go back), the purple room (didn't seem to be anything left to find)… but my mind keeps jumping back to the library.

It's the most logical answer, and yet it almost feels too simple—until I remember the tattoo on Teo's neck.

His most prominent ink happens to be of the tower. Could be coincidence… but Dad had another word for those: clues .

By the time I make it up the tower stairs, I have to catch my breath. I rest in an armchair in the tower as I survey the spines surrounding me. Sebastián said he read every book here; if he'd seen those journals, he would have told me, right?

So, what could he have missed?

My eyes land on the only modern device here, the tablet. And I wonder if it's not broken. Maybe it just needs to be unlocked.

There's a nail poking out where the tablet is affixed to the shelf. Remembering the way I accessed the purple room, I prick my finger until blood trickles out, then I press my hand to the screen.

I jump back as the wall starts to tremble, then I laugh out loud. This is la Sombra, after all—when in doubt, Brálaga blood is always the key.

My chest swells with excitement as two shelves slide apart, and books rattle against each other as a narrow stairwell is revealed.

Oh, no. More stairs.

When I've climbed up the last step, I pass through a small opening in the wall into a round attic with a cone-shaped ceiling. Felipe was right: I'm at the peak of the tower.

Bookshelves are built into the curved walls, stuffed with journals. It would probably take years to read them all, and I might have no idea where to begin, except there's a letter on the only furniture here: a small table and a chair.

It's almost like this room has been waiting for me, and I wonder if maybe it's not supposed to stay hidden. Maybe it's meant to be found.

I sit down. The message has been inked in a cursive so perfect, it could be a computer font. It's in Spanish, but as I focus on the words, they morph into English in my mind, as if I were viewing them through a phone camera's translation app.

This is the castle's doing, not mine.

Dear Grandchild,

If you are reading these words, you are my descendant.

I leave you these books so you may fill their pages with your stories and spells, to be preserved and passed down for posterity.

My power will be inherited only by those born with a living reflection: the identical twins. Brálaga magic comes in pairs, with each sibling keeping the other in balance.

Remember that great power comes only with great sacrifice. For those who dare to pursue greatness, there is a spell enclosed in a red book that provides passage to the other castle, my home, for a child of no more than five years of age. The other twin must remain as an anchor.

I prophesize that one day, one of these children will become the first Earth-born supernatural being. When that happens, Brálaga blood will be the building block of magic on Earth.

This is our legacy.

Your grandfather,

Brálaga

My palms are itchy, my breaths are shallow, my heart is racing.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

I see the black flames again, consuming the purple wallpaper, and if I weren't already sitting down, I would fall.

Now I know why I never felt the fire's burn in my memories. I could see it, but I couldn't feel it. The perspective was wrong: I was watching the scene, not experiencing it.

And not because I was disassociating—but because I was witnessing .

I think of the photos and the death certificate in the purple room. My expression in the smiling picture has been bothering me since I saw it. I thought it had to do with the person behind the lens, but now I know why my smile felt wrong: I never had a chip in my front milk tooth.

I wasn't the girl in the black fire.

She was my twin.

12 YEARS AGO

"UNO, DOS, TRES, CUATRO, CINCO, seis…" I count off in a game of hide-and-seek. "?Siete, ocho, nueve, diez!"

I turn around when I get to ten, my vantage point lower than usual.

"Lista o no, ?aquí voy!" I say, to the tune of Ready or not, here I come!

I dart down a crimson corridor and pop out by the dining hall. I look under the long table, but no one's there. The aroma of garlic and onions frying in oil invades my nostrils, and I slip into the kitchen, where two women in uniform are dicing vegetables on the counter while something bakes in the oven.

"La se?ora said to keep el se?or's meal salt-free."

"I know. The chocolate cake is almost ready."

They're speaking in Spanish, but I understand every word. I'm tempted to glide a pinkie across the chocolate icing when I glance out the window and see something that makes me run from the castle.

The heavy front door is already open, and I rush to the garden. It's vibrant and healthy and well-tended. I approach a plant with floppy leaves. "Outside doesn't count," I say in Spanish.

A voice identical to mine floats out from the foliage. "You said you wanted a real challenge for a change."

The leaves shake, and a girl steps out from the plant. She looks exactly like me, except her front tooth is broken.

"But without rules, it's not a game," I say.

"Breaking the rules doesn't matter, as long as you win."

"That's not fair," I argue.

We step back inside the castle, and a crimson-tinged light in the entryway blinks over our heads. We both look up as a second light begins to blink in the entrance hall, then a third farther down, and a fourth in the distance.

"What is that?" asks my twin.

The lights continue to flicker, almost insistently. "I don't know," I say, and we sprint in their direction.

Until a shadow falls across us, blocking our path.

"What's going on? What's with the running?" asks one of the women from the kitchen.

"Nela thought that—" I start.

"Tela needs to exercise—" my sister cuts in.

"But I prefer to be inside—"

"So I'm training her."

My sister and I trade grins.

"Well walk then. You know the rules: No running."

When she leaves, we look up at the lights, but they've stopped flashing.

Nela turns to me. "See? Rules ruined the magic."