by Gaby Triana
At that moment, our bodies collided in a wave of heat, followed by a tsunami-like surge swelling high above me, filling me with rage the likes of which I’d never felt before.
It wanted inside me, to consume my anger like it’d done with Crow.
And for a moment, I closed my eyes and let it.
Fuck, it felt good to hand that burden over, to allow this beast to take control of me, releasing me of the obligation to squash it. It was mine to feel. Anger made me real, made me human. There was no denying it. But I wouldn’t let it consume me for long.
I opened my eyes and took back my pain, staring into the beast’s eyes. “Unlike you, I remember how to love.” I grasped the cross around my neck.
Though I hadn’t uttered the actual words aloud since the day he died, only thought them in my mind, I sucked in a deep breath and spoke them aloud, giving them power.
“My little starshine, sleep, oh, so tight…my little moonshine, dream with the night; when you awaken, Love you will be; my little sunshine Heaven gave me.”
The beast laughed, its chest shuddering. Your father is coming with me.
It was a lie. Because that’s what demons did.
I imagined the creature surrounded by the same purple light that protected me. “My little starshine, sleep, oh, so tight,” I repeated. “My little moonshine, dream with the night; when you awaken, Love you will be; my little sunshine Heaven gave me.”
I watched it recoil as though I were covering it in acid. As it writhed in pain from my words, the precipice gave way again, a blast of heat shot up from the chasm, and the entity tumbled in, taking my beautiful, loyal, protective Lobo with it.
“Goodbye, little one.”
I wasted no time.
Dragging my broken body through busted walls and piles of debris, I trudged out of the hotel as fast as I could, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The earth’s crust finally surrendered its hold, and the whole of the Sunlake Springs Resort and adjacent lake cried out with dismantlement.
In a matter of seconds, the entire hotel had plummeted. Gone, swallowed by nature, reclaimed by earth, clouds of ash and dusty memories rising from the newly-formed crater.
The parking lot eroded behind me, as I race-limped across the gray expanse toward the gates. I wasn’t safe as long as the parking lot continued to dissolve. I ran, blindly, with everything I had in me toward the highway, slowing only when the rumbling ended, when the land quieted, and something inside my soul told me it was done.
I collapsed on the dirt path into a foot of water. Currents of rain washed my grit, blood, my wounds. Someone licked my knee and nudged my head, sniffed my ears. My fingers dug into soft, wet fur. I inhaled the scent of my wolf, my sweet Lobo, whimpering over me.
How had he survived? For him—only for him—I forced open my eyes to acknowledge his presence and unwavering protection.
But my sweet, beautiful wolf wasn’t there.
My dad was.
TWENTY-NINE
I heard helicopters and sirens. A mélange of voices melded with my dreams of being asleep outdoors. Funny, this dream, it felt real—the warmth, humidity, the chirping birds, the dumped rain I was stewing in.
When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by shoes.
“You get that side. I’ll get her feet.” The shoes shuffled into awkward positions around me. I felt tugging, pulling, as they jostled me into a sitting posture.
My lashes fluttered, as muted, clouded light brought me to my senses.
“She’s waking. Vale? Thank God, you’re okay.” Familiar voice. Someone named Mori? Maybe Macy. “Your knee is torn up pretty bad.”
Around me, five faces peered into mine—Wilky, Mori, Macy, Macy’s mom—what was her name again? Mori’s aunt. My father and Lobo were gone. But I was sure I’d seen them. My father had stroked my hair for so long, sang to me, and told me the darkness was gone. The souls were free because of me.
I sat up and stared at everyone smiling and crying. Overnight, I’d been gifted a new family. My forehead pulsed. I sat on the dirt path, the driveway leading into the resort. Piece by piece, everything came back—the building, the atrium, the battle, a creature as horrible as the kraken of ocean lore but borne of a wretched, dying swamp.
We’d lost Fae and Crow.
We’d lost so much. But these people—they were still here.
“How long have I been out?” I squinched my eyes against the soreness.
Macy raked her fingers through my hair, wiped my face of dirt. “Since last night. After it happened, we came looking for you, but a crew told us to steer clear of the area.”
“When what happened?”
“Don’t you remember?” Macy asked.
Images of wide chasms, festering heat, and destruction came barreling into the forefront of my memory. “A sinkhole.”
Macy nodded. “They’re saying it’s the biggest one Florida’s ever seen. Five hundred feet wide. They’re all arriving now to confirm, but they let us in to look for you. We have to get back.”
Wilky’s face was covered in bloody scratches. “The whole damn thing, just…swallowed up, Vale.”
I know. I saw.
Behind Lucinda was the iron gate to the property, and behind that…the sun coming up on a flat horizon. No looming hotel. No shadows stretched across the land. Just an old landscape, washed away by the rain.
“We should get out of the way, so the crews can do their work,” Macy told the others.
“We need to close the portal is what we need to do.”
Everyone looked at her—Citana.
“Before the inspectors arrive, and we’re not allowed back in. Hurry.” Citana rose to her feet with Wilky’s help, and they began walking toward the gate, the whole bottom corner of which was submerged in mud.
Mori looked like they’d been crying a long time with puffed eyes and red cheeks. I took their hand and squeezed it. They nodded, biting their bottom lip. With their help, I scrambled first to my good knee, then to a semi-standing position, wincing.
“Ready?” Wilky scooped me up and carried me.
We followed Citana to the gaping sinkhole. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see a crushed hotel in its depths. As it was, I’d have nightmares about this for the rest of my life. But I needed to. We had to finish what we started.
“Will it work, Tata?” Mori asked.
“Of course, it will,” Citana replied without batting an eye.
Faith was everything.
It took a while to reach the edge of the precipice, as we now had to navigate lifted sections of old pavement and cracks that had formed last night. As Wilky huffed and puffed while carrying me, I thought about Lobo. Was he Dad all along? He’d known the area, known the clairs were in danger, known I was protected by his charm, the only explainable reason why he’d send me into a dangerous situation.
The devastation was intense. Not only was there a hole in the earth one-tenth of a mile wide, but the adjacent Sunlake Springs Lake had emptied, rivulets of water seeping from its edges into the chasm like mini waterfalls. No sign of the Devil’s Tree either. Silence permeated the air, as if the sinkhole had taken the cries of the resort’s souls with it.
We walked as far as we could, several feet away from the actual edge.
“Don’t go any further,” Wilky said, setting me on my feet.
Even from where we stood, there was no glimpsing the bottom. I was grateful for that. No need to gaze into the final resting place of Fae, Crow, and countless others. It was hard enough knowing their broken bodies were down there.
Mori dropped their chin. I put my arm around them.
“Let’s do this quickly,” Citana said. “Everybody, hold hands.”
“Does it matter that we’re six?” Wilky asked.
“Only matters that we love.” Citana glanced at Mori, still shaking against my shoulder. She reached out to take their hand.
On the edge of this cliff, the six of us stood in a circle. Mori to my left, Wilky to my right. A
collective sigh spread over us, as thoughts of sadness assailed my brain. Citana began with a chant in her beautiful, haunting dialect that was as natural to this land as the trees, dirt, birds, and breezes.
“Let us pray,” she said, same words uttered in cathedrals, mosques, and temples around the world. So much division when we were the same.
I envisioned royal light surrounding us and the chasm. In my vision, I watched it spread over the land. I sent the light into the ground to surround Fae, Crow, and Lobo, though I was sure they had already ascended. I felt no gloom. No heavy mass of anger breathing down my neck. No lingering resentment tugging at my sleeves, like needy children.
“We close this portal, sending energy back into the universe,” Citana proclaimed. “Love into Heaven, Hate to be transmuted. We hereby end the curse that has plagued this land…”
Though I was glad we were doing this, I was sure the entity had already returned to where it came from, weakened like a hurricane split by island mountain peaks. Whether it would reassemble and try again, I didn’t know. But for now, it was gone.
“As above, so below,” Citana said.
“So mote it be,” we finished.
“This place is now unblemished,” Citana announced. “Let us go in peace.”
During Mass, we all said, “Thanks be to God,” said goodbye, and left. We’d worry about getting out of the parking lot on time or whether or not we’d arrive in time for Sunday brunch. Mindless and onto the next thing.
Today, in this place of quietude before the masses arrived, nobody moved. We stood there, arms around each other, welcoming a new day. Mori in tears, Wilky holding down the fort of emotions for us all, the ladies looking melancholy at best. The power of prayer meant nothing without intention.
Without love, words meant nothing.
Without love, we were nothing.
THIRTY
Once upon a time, the smell of alcohol, wiping of blood, or buzzing of needle would’ve been enough to repel me from ever getting a tattoo. But this felt amazing. Earned, like a badge of honor. I didn’t ask anyone’s permission. I just did it. I couldn’t “see” the tattoo artist’s thoughts in my head either. Closing the portal had dimmed the psychometry in my hands.
Macy sat next to me, getting her first tattoo also.
Every so often, I’d snap photos of our progress with my new phone, but mostly, I stayed in the moment, in awe that the last couple of months had led me here. If a year ago, someone had told me I’d spend the summer away from home, getting to know and be accepted by a new family, realize the truth about my dad, all while learning that the seeds of manifestation lay inside each of us, I’d have said they were insane.
It was insane—in a good way.
I didn’t feel powerless anymore. Our lives were canvases. We could create whatever tattoos we wanted onto that blank slate. This was only the beginning, and this artwork on my skin was a testament to that power, always within me.
Macy got a beautiful, sparkling sun dreamcatcher. Mine was a full moon with tiny hanging crystals, the silhouette of a wolf in the middle. Day and night, solar and lunar celestial energy. One and the same, made of the same stardust. Sisters forever. When we were done, we took a slew of photos and posted them online.
Immediately, I started getting snide messages from friends I’d known in the past, friends who were confused about the new Valentina.
What does the moon mean? Are you a werewolf now?
Funnily enough, it didn’t bother me. They were frustrated with their own lives, stuck inside their boxes, unable to break out or make sense of their confused feelings. I felt sorry for them and even sent God a message that night, asking to please help them on their journeys like He’d helped me.
Send them dancing wolves on ceilings.
I thought of reaching out to Savannah, the girl who’d started it all for me, whose IG account I’d become so obsessed with at the start of my senior year. So many of our classmates had written her off as weird or evil. I hadn’t known what to make of her then either, but now I understood her more than ever. She was a child of the moon—like me.
The next morning, I messaged her.
She replied: Omg a Ministerio buddy?! With a laughing face, as if—what were the chances that a classmate from her private school past had reached out to her in this new life?
She’d been living in New Orleans, working at an occult shop and a praline store (not at the same time). She asked if I wanted to come visit. Of course, I couldn’t. Summer was almost over. I was about to start college, I told her. Besides, how awkward would that be to just show up in New Orleans and hang with a girl I barely knew?
Then, I remembered—I’d done that with Macy.
And here we were, living in Yeehaw Springs, getting matching tattoos. We’d never learn what life had in store for us if we sat around waiting for things to happen. You had to go to the creaky hotels, explore the haunted woods. Sometimes, you had to touch the Devil’s Tree to find out what was buried underneath.
Sometimes you lost friends along the way.
I longed to heal the rift between Camila and me, but the time wasn’t right. Like Wilky had said, friends break up. You go your separate ways, and sometimes you come back. Sometimes you don’t. Both are okay. Both a part of life. I just never expected that to happen with Cami. I still loved her, and always would. We were just on different paths.
And I loved my new one too much.
The next morning, Mori and Wilky showed up at the house, as I was throwing my bags into the trunk. We stood outside, between the cars, talking about random things, though our underlying sadness was palpable. We were forever changed. You couldn’t battle an evil lake mermaid back to the depths of Hell and not be. But we would survive a year apart, no doubt.
I had to go. I had things to work out with my family. I hugged them each and bit back the tears, promising to come back and visit next summer.
“Fae says goodbye.” Mori pulled me into another hug.
I smiled. “Tell her I say hi. I love and admire her, more than she’ll ever know.”
Mori smiled, dimples deep and beautiful. “She knows. Love you, Vale.”
“Love you, too.”
Wilky was harder to let go of, because with Wilky, there was so much unexplored territory. Under different circumstances, I would’ve loved getting to know him, what made those deep eyes so sad, why he made people work for his smile.
He handed me a rolled-up piece of paper. “I made you this.”
“Aww.” I unrolled the scroll, and there, behind a layer of wax paper, was a gorgeous charcoal drawing of The High Priestess tarot card, triple moon goddess for a crown. Instead of a black cat at her feet was a black wolf.
“It’s you,” he said.
It was—my face, my likeness, serene and powerful, looked out from inside the dark robes. “I love this, Wilky. I’ll treasure it forever.”
“Come here.” He pulled me into a warm, delicious hug. After a minute, I pulled away from the pounding of his heart, and he tapped my nose. “Stay wild, moon child.”
His voice, his smile, his lingering look as he retreated to his car made me think twice. I’d loved every minute of the last two months I’d spent with him. Especially the last four weeks, when he, Mori, and I had tried to normalize by couch surfing, researching abandoned locations with weird pasts, and ordering takeout every day. My leg cast from the hairline fracture I’d gotten wouldn’t allow for much else. I couldn’t believe I had to drive home after that.
Finally, I turned to Macy. “Guess this is it.”
“What am I going to do without you, huh, little sis?” She smiled, holding me by the arms, pulling me into a warm hug.
“Get back to normal? I bet you’re like, damn, finally, she’s leaving.”
“Bullshit,” she said. “I wish you would stay. We’ll make up for lost time, cross the globe, rule the world together.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Right after I finish my work, right? Ah, jobs.”
&nb
sp; “You could get a new one,” I said. “Something more fulfilling than editing.”
“I guess so. But for now, paying bills feels nice,” she said. “But I like the way you think. Maybe I ought to get back into that world-ahead-of-me mindset, like you.”
“Say goodbye to your mom for me. It was really great meeting her.” This, I couldn’t expand on, though my heart tried. I wouldn’t be able to do it without crying. She’d never understand what it meant for me to finally get to know another woman my father had once loved.
“I will. Don’t forget your orange juice,” Macy said.
“Got it. And the snacks. Thank you. I owe you—huge.”
I got in the car, started her up, and pulled out of the driveway, as the three of them stood there, watching me leave. Why did my heart ache so bad? I hadn’t known them for long. I shouldn’t feel so attached. Not like this. I had been through a terrifying experience this summer—I should’ve felt relieved I was leaving.
I waved out the window, honked the horn. They smiled. Perfect—I captured them in my memory like potions in bottles to keep my heart beating another year. Heading to the highway with the window open, warm air tangling my hair, I swiped at my eyes.
Yes, I had to check in with my mom, but hadn’t I done that over the last four weeks with my calls? We’d talked about my father, his death, and my family’s secrets. We’d talked about Abuela and her old school ways. And yeah, we’d talked about my grandfather.
We hadn’t gotten to the bottom of things, because let’s face it, that would take a while. But we were talking. Healing. We’d started the process.
As for school, I had no clue what I wanted to study. No idea where to go from here. I’d enrolled at FIU at the beginning of the summer, because I hadn’t known what else to do. It seemed, at the time, like the right thing. You finish high school—you go to college. You start with humanities. You figure it out. That’s what all my family members had done. But there was no reason I had to start right now.
