Cemetery Boys(44)

“Uh,” Yadriel hesitated. Julian peeked at him around the corner, waiting for his instructions. He needed to get their attention.

He knew what’d do that trick.

“Save me a tamal for later? I’m not hungry.” All four women looked up at him. “I’m not feeling so good.”

The whole room broke into chatter as they converged on him. As they asked him what was wrong, everyone touching his cheeks and checking his forehead for a temperature, Yadriel forced himself not to squirm away.

“I have vivaporú in my bag!”

“I’ll brew some manzanilla!”

He gave Julian a subtle jerk of his head, and Julian crept toward the door.

“Take off your shirt,” Lita ordered him. “I’ll get an egg!” She made to turn toward the fridge, but Julian was only halfway across the room, in clear sight.

“No!” Yadriel shouted, and everyone jumped, including Julian.

Lita clutched her rosary and stared at Yadriel. “No?” she repeated, clearly offended.

“I’m—I’m okay, really,” Yadriel stammered.

Taking the hint, Julian ran for the door and slipped out.

A cold wave of relief crashed over Yadriel.

“But—” Lita began to argue.

“Really, I’m fine,” he told her, conjuring up a smile. “And I’m in a rush, I have to go meet Maritza.”

Lita frowned.

“We have important school stuff to do,” he added, knowing school was a fail-safe excuse. “Big project.”

The brujas turned to Lita, and she thought for a moment, lips pursed. But, eventually, she nodded. “Fine—”

Yadriel bolted for the door.

“No staying out after dark!” Lita called after him.

“We won’t!”

“And we’re putting vivaporú on you when you get back!” her voice followed as Yadriel ran outside and down the steps.

Julian waited for him by a seafoam-green mausoleum. “All good?” he asked, falling into step alongside him.

“Yeah, though I think I just doomed myself to getting slathered in Vaporub tonight,” Yadriel said.

“Ah.” Julian smirked. “The Latinx cure-all.”

“Seriously,” he agreed with a laugh. Voices caught Yadriel’s attention, and he craned his head to the right. Immediately, he recognized the back of his dad’s head.

“My dad used to—”

“Stop!” Yadriel hissed.

Julian’s head whipped side to side, looking around. “What?”

“Duck!” Yadriel dropped down behind a stone sarcophagus.

For once, Julian obeyed. “What?” he asked again in a whisper. “What is it?”

Carefully, Yadriel peeked over the large slab of stone for a better look. “It’s my dad and my brother,” he murmured.

Julian scooted closer, pressing cold against Yadriel’s side, and stole a look, too.

Up ahead, Yadriel’s dad and Diego stood next to each other. Enrique had his arm on Diego’s shoulder, and they stood facing two women. Yadriel recognized the older woman as Beatriz Cisneros. She had short white hair, wore a heavy shawl, and was clearly a spirit. At her side stood Sandra Cisneros, her daughter.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” asked Yadriel’s dad.

“What are they doing?” Julian asked, his voice soft in Yadriel’s ear.

“I think Diego is going to release her spirit.” Yadriel felt a pang of envy. After a brujo turned fifteen, it usually took another few years of shadowing the older brujos and learning their ways before you were allowed to release your own spirit. This would be Diego’s first time.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Beatriz said with a warm chuckle. “I was so worried about leaving Sandra alone, but we talked it through.” She smiled at her daughter, who tried to smile back, but her chin wobbled. “I’ve felt the cold creeping in the past couple of days,” she said, gathering her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “We need to do this now, before it’s too late.”

“Too late?” Julian’s voice was small.

“Before she goes maligno,” Yadriel told him. He nodded to Beatriz. “See how faded she looks?”

Her colors were all washed out, as if she were just a black-and-white photograph. Seeing her was like looking through a fogged window. The details were blurred and undulating ever so slightly.

“Most of the time, when spirits begin to lose themselves, they start to fade like that before they go maligno. Others skip that stage and just turn without warning.” Yadriel had never actually seen that happen before, but he overheard the older brujos talking about it every now and again.

He stole a glance at Julian. His face paled, and Yadriel saw his throat dip as he swallowed.

“Time for us both to move on,” Beatriz said.

Enrique nodded.

Sandra and Beatriz exchanged quiet words, and Diego fidgeted with his portaje. Beatriz reached forward, her ghostly hand cupping her daughter’s cheek. “So silly! I’ll be back for Día de Muertos! Now, let’s go, my husband is waiting for me.”

Sandra walked up to Diego and handed him a red beaded rosary. It must’ve been Beatriz’s portaje, her tether to the land of the living.