Tío Catriz moved to the cenote where Julian’s blood dripped into the roiling pool. “I had to find the sacrificial bodies, of course, but it was surprisingly easy to just pick people off the street. People with no homes or families.” He sighed and shook his head. “People no one would miss.”
Anger swelled in Yadriel’s chest, nearly robbing him of his ability to see. “You—”
“It did pain me to use Miguel,” Catriz said, stepping aside and looking back at the altar. “He stumbled upon what I was doing, saw me dragging your friend here through the back gate. He left me with no other choice.”
Yadriel thought of the night they all felt Miguel die. How everyone had gone looking for him. The painful stab Yadriel had felt in his chest. How it’d brought him to his knees. He remembered how he’d felt the stir of energy coming from the old church. How Miguel had been under his feet the whole time, dying. How Julian had been right next to him.
That was why he had been drawn to the old church. He’d sensed something was wrong, he just didn’t know how much.
For the first time, Tío Catriz spared Julian a glance. “I’m sorry your friend has to be the one to complete the ceremony.”
Julian bared his teeth, his face contorting in anger and pain. He was more awake—more himself—and seething.
“Has he been with you all this time?” Catriz asked Yadriel with a curious lift of an eyebrow. “You did a good job hiding him.”
“You can’t summon Bahlam!” Yadriel all but yelled, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “If he crosses over from Xibalba, he’ll—”
“I know,” Catriz interrupted with a solemn nod. “When Bahlam rises, the cemetery will be filled with the spirits of the passed brujx. He will be unleashed to do what he did in ancient times. He will drag their spirits down to Xibalba and trap them there for all eternity.” A cruel smile twisted his tío’s mouth. It made Yadriel’s blood run cold. “They will suffer, and the living brujx will be made to face the consequences of their actions. I will show them what a grave mistake they’ve made, and I will show them no mercy.”
Yadriel wanted to vomit. He thought of his grandparents, his aunts and uncles, his mom. They were all in the cemetery, celebrating and probably worried sick about him. They had no idea what was coming. What would happen to them if Yadriel didn’t do something? He would lose them. He would never see them again.
“Finally, they will see us as equals,” his tío said, turning his full attention back to Yadriel. “They will never value us, or give us the chance to show them what we’re capable of. We can show them how wrong they are, together.” When he smiled, Yadriel barely recognized him anymore.
How was he the same man who had comforted Yadriel when he felt so alone? How was he the man who took Yadriel under his wing when even his own dad avoided him? Yadriel didn’t want to believe it.
“They will never accept us, Yadriel,” he said softly, reaching for him. “This is the only way to show them.”
Yadriel stepped out of his reach. “No, it’s not!”
His tío sighed, not angry, but tired. “Yadriel—”
“I told my dad!” He couldn’t bring back Miguel, or the other two people who had lost their lives, but if he could make his tío understand, he could save everyone else from a similar fate. “He knows about my portaje, that Lady Death blessed me as a brujo, that I am a brujo!”
Tío Catriz froze, a look of pure shock on his face.
“He said that when my mom returns for Día de Muertos—” His stomach gave a violent churn, thinking about how she was in the cemetery waiting for him with no idea that they were all in danger. “—they’ll talk to Lita and the other brujx.” Yadriel swallowed hard. “He said I could be in the aquelarre.”
Catriz jerked back, as if the words had struck him across the face. For a beat, he just stared at Yadriel. Disbelief turned to hurt, which quickly clouded to anger. Every smile line or bit of kindness in Tío Catriz’s face hardened to stone. “I see,” he said, his voice cold as ice.
“Please, Tío,” Yadriel begged, his throat burning. “We can talk to them, we can work through it, but you have to stop this, before it’s too late.”
Tío Catriz’s smile was forced. “I’m sorry, Yadriel,” he said, detached and unconcerned. “I will take what’s mine.” His tío drew in a deep breath. On the stone slab, the tendrils of gold emitting from the dagger in Julian’s heart snaked through the air and dove straight into Catriz’s nostrils.
“Don’t!” Yadriel pleaded, but his tío ignored him.
On the floor, a pained cry ripped through Julian’s throat. His back arched, his body twisting in unnatural angles. Yadriel ran to kneel at his side, but there was nothing he could do. Julian’s body flickered in and out of existence. Yadriel couldn’t touch him. There was nothing he could do but watch as Julian writhed in pain.
When Catriz stopped inhaling, he sighed, and it was like an invisible force released Julian’s spirit.
Julian collapsed in a heap, his limbs heavy and his chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths. “Yads,” he groaned.
“Hang on!” Yadriel ordered, though he had no idea how to stop all this.
Catriz approached the cenote. He picked up a candle and dropped it into the pool. The surface burst into electric blue-and-green flames. The ground quaked, a faint reverberation under Yadriel’s knees. A low, thunderous growl filled the crypt, echoing off the walls.
“He’s almost here,” Catriz whispered, the acid lights dancing in his eyes. The flames curved and undulated.
Grief, betrayal, and paralyzing fear swarmed inside Yadriel. He couldn’t think. He could hardly breathe through the tightness in his lungs.
At the fire, Catriz murmured the ancient words he couldn’t understand. His tío withdrew a dagger and dragged the blade across his palm.
“Don’t!” Yadriel shouted, but it was too late.
Catriz hissed between his teeth and squeezed his fist. The blood dropped into the water. The flames burned bright, casting glowing lights of green and blue across the walls.
Yadriel watched as a huge jaguar paw moved beneath the water. Its back rose from the cenote, a curve of iridescent black fur. Its spots shimmered in shades of venomous green and quetzal blue. The large head of a jaguar broke through the surface, revealing huge, bone-white teeth and a bloodred tongue.
Frenzied panic shot through Yadriel, a choked shout lodging in his throat. He scrambled back, placing himself between Julian and the cenote. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
The jaguar’s mouth yawned open, large enough to swallow a man whole, before it sank back into the water.
Yadriel had no plan, but if he didn’t do something, he would lose everything. His mom and the rest of his relatives would all become trapped in Xibalba, and he would never see them again. His father, Lita, Diego, and all the other brujx would be in grave danger. Julian, his body bleeding out on the stone table, would die and his spirit would be trapped in the amulet, just like Miguel and the others. No one would find peace. No one would be safe.