In his pocket, something vibrated. At first, he thought it was his cell phone going off, but, no—
Yadriel plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out Julian’s necklace. It shone with bright golden light. Dangling in the air, the medal shook and jolted, trembling with energy, sending off sparks of light.
“Shit,” Yadriel hissed.
He’d stopped the summoning ritual for Bahlam, but what about the one draining Julian of his life? Yadriel looked at the amulet.
How was he supposed to release Julian’s spirit if it was trapped inside?
Yadriel scrambled to his feet and ran to the slab where Julian’s body lay. His skin was gray, his lips turning blue.
The wisps continued to float through the air and into the amulet, although they were much thinner and less vibrant.
Yadriel ripped the jaguar-claw dagger out of Julian’s chest and threw it to the ground. Blood trickled weakly from the wound.
He placed the amulet on the slab and wrestled with clumsy fingers to undo the clasp of the St. Jude necklace and get it back around Julian’s neck. His skin felt cold to the touch as Yadriel redid the clasp.
“Yadriel!”
He turned at Maritza’s shout. She stared at the ground. Julian’s spirit had vanished.
But then, on the stone slab, Julian’s eyes flew open. He sucked in a wet, gurgling breath, and Yadriel nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Julian!” Yadriel reached for him, cupping Julian’s face in his hand. He was real, he was awake. Yadriel could feel the hard line of his jaw, the scratch of his buzzed hair against his fingers. He could feel Julian’s heartbeat, rapid and weak, in his neck.
Julian’s eyes rolled, unseeing, trying to find Yadriel. They weren’t just black, but a deep, rich brown, the color of summer soil after it rains. Through heaving breaths, Julian’s lips tried to form words, but he couldn’t manage.
He was alive, but he was dying.
“Stay with me!” Yadriel told him. He turned to Maritza. “What do I do?!” he shouted.
Maritza shook her head, eyes wide. “I don’t know— I—I—”
“Heal him, Maritza!” Yadriel begged. “Please!”
Her hand flew to her bare neck. “My portaje!” she said, feeling around her throat. “Where is it?!”
Her rosary must’ve fallen off during the scuffle.
“Hold on!” Maritza turned away and dropped to her knees, searching for her portaje.
Yadriel squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against Julian’s. It was cold and clammy, covered in sweat. Yadriel begged. He begged for help. He begged for Lady Death to hear him. He begged her to save Julian. “Please!”
“Yads.” A cold hand pressed to Yadriel’s cheek. He opened his eyes, and Julian was staring up at him, eyes heavy-lidded but intent.
Julian’s face was ashen. His lips had turned gray, save for the line of red running from the corner of his mouth. “Hey, hey, hey.” Julian tried to smile, but his dimples were lost. “Todo bien,” he murmured, chest heaving under Yadriel’s.
“Everything is not okay!” Yadriel snapped.
Julian grinned. His fingers slipped through Yadriel’s hair and traced his face, like he was trying to memorize every line, before he never saw them again. “Sí, lo está.”
He was completely losing his mind. “You’re dying, you idiot!” Yadriel yelled at him because he was angry and because he was terrified.
Julian’s chuckle was wet. “Valió … la pena.”
Yadriel let out a bitter laugh, gripping Julian’s hand that pressed against the side of his face.
With every rasping breath Julian took, the weaker the medal around his neck glowed until it was a barely pulsing golden light. “Todo bien, todo estará bien,” he repeated weakly.
Yadriel shook his shoulders roughly. “Stay awake!”
Julian reached out with his other hand and cupped Yadriel’s face. He swept his thumbs gently under Yadriel’s eyes, trying to wipe away the tears. “Todo bien, Yadriel.” Julian drew in a rattling breath.
“You have to stay here until we can get help,” Yadriel demanded. Hiccups bucked in his chest, breaking his words.
Julian nodded, but his expression was pained. His breath quickened as he tried in vain to keep his eyes open, to keep them locked onto Yadriel’s. A sob caught in Julian’s throat. His hands trembled. Tears spilled from the corners of his deep brown eyes.
“Stay!” Yadriel shouted at him, giving him another rough shake.
Julian tried to nod again, but his gaze unfocused, losing sight of Yadriel. His hands slid from Yadriel’s face. His eyes stared, unseeing.
The St. Jude medal around his neck gave one last flicker of light before dulling to tarnished silver.
One last breath sighed past Julian’s lips.
Everything that made Julian Julian—the mischievous light in his eyes, his dimpled smile—vanished.
Yadriel felt him leave, like his own heart had been torn from his chest.
A cry ripped through him, caving in his heart, his bones aching. Yadriel clutched Julian and openly sobbed into his neck. His body shook. His lungs burned. Every fiber of his being mourned.
He couldn’t hear the voice calling him at first, lost under his primal cries.
“Yadriel!” A warm hand pressed to his back.
Yadriel turned to look, his head tucked under Julian’s chin.
Maritza stood beside him, her eyes wide and frantic as they went between Julian’s body, Yadriel, the blood-covered floor. She held her rosary in her fist. “Yads—”
“Help!” Yadriel begged, balling Julian’s jacket into his fist. “Please! Save him!”
“Santa Muerte,” Maritza hissed, quickly searching for Julian’s pulse.
“Please, you have to save him, please,” Yadriel sobbed uncontrollably.
Maritza’s hand fell back to her side. “Yads,” she said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Yads—”
Yadriel shoved her away. “I know—I know it goes against your beliefs—”
“It’s not that, Yadriel—”
“But you have to save him! Please, Maritza!”
Maritza swallowed. “I can’t, Yadriel.” Her eyes welled. “I can’t bring him back. He’s gone.”
Yadriel’s tears trickled down Julian’s neck. “Please, please, please.” He repeated the word over and over. It echoed uselessly, hollow and empty.
Maritza squeezed Yadriel’s shoulder tight.
Yadriel buried his face against Julian, letting his smell linger. The sobs slowly subsided until Yadriel was left weak and sniffling.
Then he noticed something thrumming, pressed against his side. Gingerly, Yadriel pushed himself up. The jaguar amulet lay on the stone slab. It trembled and sparked with light, wafting heat and energy.
The ritual was complete. The amulet still held the spirits of Miguel, the two others. Julian’s spirit. They were trapped inside and would remain there, unable to cross over to the afterlife.
He wouldn’t allow it.
He needed help. He needed Lady Death, but how could he summon a god? Yadriel’s mind raced. He remembered how Tío Catriz stood at the cenote, the gateway that connected this world to Xibalba. He remembered how his tío had sliced open his own hand, had used his own blood. Only something as powerful as brujx blood could call upon a death god.