by H. K. Varian
“I love you,” Gabriella replied. It was all she could manage to say.
“I love you, too. And I’ll see you soon,” Tía Rosa promised.
As Gabriella walked up the path to her front door, she didn’t have to turn around and look to know that Tía Rosa was watching to make sure she made it in safely. Gabriella was suddenly so tired that she didn’t even bother to brush her teeth, but instead went straight to her bedroom, where she set her alarm for four o’clock in the morning. Mr. Kimura wanted them ready before dawn, and Gabriella wasn’t going to let him down.
She placed The Compendium on her bedside table, right next to her phone. Somehow Gabriella felt better about everything with The Compendium nearby. She closed her eyes but knew that it was going to take a while for all the thoughts that were running through her head to quiet. Still, soon enough, she found her eyelids feeling heavier and heavier. . . .
BANG!
Gabriella jerked up, her heart thundering in her chest. Had the battle already begun? Was that an explosion? A warning, perhaps?
Or something even worse?
Her hand was shaking as she reached for the lamp on her bedside table. Part of her hated to turn it on, but it was still too dark to see; dawn had not yet arrived. Just turn it on, Gabriella scolded herself. You’re not some baby who’s afraid of the dark.
Click.
The soft glow of the lamp provided just enough light for Gabriella to figure out what had happened: somehow, The Compendium had fallen to the floor, open.
As Gabriella picked up the book, the words on the page seemed to swim across it, letters tumbling as they rearranged themselves.
The Ring of Tezcatlipoca
An ancient artifact forged from obsidian and gold, it endows the wearer with intense spiritual strength, such that it resists mind control spells or objects. Though the ring bears no other defenses, it is nevertheless a coveted and unusual object, much desired by anyone about to engage in battle. However, those who seek its Protection would be Wise to understand that the Ring is only effective for those of Aztec Blood.
Hold up, Gabriella realized. She was certain the last line hadn’t been there before. She’d been reading along over Darren’s shoulder. Surely she would’ve noticed a condition like that—or someone else would’ve—
Gabriella’s thoughts swirled wildly. This says—this says that the ring will only work on someone with Aztec blood, she thought. Which means that Mr. Kimura won’t be protected at all! He probably doesn’t even know. Those words appeared for me, not him or Darren—
Gabriella didn’t understand it, she couldn’t explain it, but somehow the same power that made the Ring of Tezcatlipoca only work for those with Aztec blood meant that only they could learn its true secrets . . . and its limitations.
As if in a dream, she reached for her phone and texted Darren as fast as she could.
Meet me at the beach. Mr. Kimura is in danger!
Chapter 12
Homecoming
Swim. Swim. Swim.
It was a one-word mantra, repeating in Fiona’s brain until the word itself no longer had any meaning.
Swim. Swim. Swim.
It was the hardest thing she’d ever done—and yet a thousand times better than the alternative. To succumb, to surrender, to sink.
No, Fiona promised herself. Never.
Swim. Swim. Swim.
How long had she been at it now? An hour? A day? A year? It seemed impossible to know. Time had no meaning in the murky depths of the ocean, where the light of the stars and the moon disappeared into nothingness. There was a time when “nothingness” was the last word that Fiona ever would’ve used to describe the vast oceans, teeming with life of all sorts, but that was before. After the longest night, unable to see anything, swimming all alone—
Suddenly, Fiona felt a strange tingling along her spine.
Was she all alone?
Fiona wasn’t sure anymore.
There’s magic in the water, she realized. A figure was moving toward her; the current now had a faint, almost phosphorescent, glow as it parted, letting the creature—a dolphin, perhaps—glide through effortlessly. How Fiona envied that; after swimming as quickly as she could for so long, each stroke felt like agony to her.
Even through the pain and exhaustion, though, Fiona clearly remembered Ms. Therian’s warning to flee from any Changer who approached her in the water. They’ve come to attack, Fiona thought in desperation, somehow managing to find a last burst of strength as she swam furiously away from what she could now sense was an encantado.
Then a familiar voice called her name.
Fiona! Wait! Yara cried in Fiona’s mind. Sefu and I have been searching for you for hours!
Yara! Fiona cried. How did you find me?
It hasn’t been easy. We feared the worst, Yara told her. Come, we’ve got to get you back to shore. Sefu is waiting.
Is it far? Fiona asked, hating the weakness that had begun to overpower her. I’m so tired. Where are we?
The dolphin gently nudged Fiona with her snout. Not too far, Fiona. Come on. You can do it. I’m here with you. I’ll help. Let me light the way.
Fiona was too tired to even wonder how Yara managed to cast an ethereal glow through the water, but she appreciated that small light more than she could say.
Say—
Someone was saying something—
It was so hard to concentrate when all she wanted to do was sleep—
Fiona, Yara’s voice cut through her thoughts. Stay with me. Did you find your mother—the queen? What happened?
Fiona shook her head. She wouldn’t come with me, she admitted. The selkie council voted for neutrality. I failed.
No! Never say that, Yara exclaimed. All we asked was that you try. And you did. It was always a long shot, Fiona, you know that. Akira has a plan, so there’s a chance. . . .
Fiona could tell that Yara was still talking, but it was hard to understand her words. The waves rocked her back and forth, back and forth; she was cradled by them. I’ll just close my eyes for a moment, she thought. Yara is here. She’ll take care of everything.
Fiona remembered being rocked like this, long ago, in her mother’s arms. How her mother would hold her; how her mother would sing—
Sing.
Half asleep, slipping deeper into unconsciousness every moment, Fiona tried to pull herself back to reality. Yara’s sharp voice helped. Fiona! You have to stay alert! I can help, but I can’t do this for you!
Fiona could tell Yara wasn’t mad, just worried—there was so much to worry about, so much to remember . . .
I remember, Fiona thought. Her eyes fluttered open. Yara—I passed the trials. I know the Queen’s Song.
Yara gasped. No, she said, as if she couldn’t believe it was true. Oh, Fiona! Don’t you know what this means?
It has to be me, Fiona told her. I have the weapon to stop Auden Ironbound’s magic. And there’s something else, too. . . .
What? Yara asked urgently. What?
Fiona struggled to remember through the fog of her exhaustion. The Horn of Power, she began. It’s—stronger now. Since the repair. Younglings won’t be immune anymore.
For an instant Yara stopped swimming, trying to understand. Are you saying—
But Fiona never learned what Yara was about to ask. At that moment a massive force slammed into Yara, tossing her aside like a toy.
Fiona watched in horror as a terrible realization dawned on her.
It was a shark!
Not just any shark, though; she felt a trace of magic. Fiona was certain it was a Changer. Another betrayer, willing to abandon all that was good and right in the world to align with Auden.
Yara plunged back into the water, hitting the surface so hard that a massive wave washed over Fiona. The shark circled back, its cruel teeth glinting.
Keep swimming, Fiona, Yara’s voice rang through Fiona’s head. You’re almost there. You must get back to shore as fast as you can.
How
could Fiona leave Yara all alone in the churning waters, pursued by the bloodthirsty shark?
Go! Now! Yara ordered her, and then breached the surface in a tall, graceful arc.
She’s leading the shark Changer away from me—and away from the shore, Fiona realized.
This was Fiona’s chance.
She reached deep inside herself for one last burst of energy and pushed forward. She honestly didn’t know if she could make it, but the ocean itself seemed to sense her need, and the tide shifted. Fiona relaxed and let it carry her closer, closer, closer. . . .
Her flippers brushed against the ocean floor. . . .
Fiona pulled herself onto the beach and rolled over, trying to catch her breath. There were five figures silhouetted against the sky, arguing frantically.
The sky—Fiona squinted up at it. Not night, not yet day, but somewhere in between. The sun seemed to be struggling to rise, leaving a sickly greenish-yellow cast to the horizon. Dawn would soon arrive—and so would Auden Ironbound.
“Fiona!”
Gabriella’s voice carried over the sound of the wind and the waves.
Fiona shrugged off her selkie cloak and tried to pull herself up, but her exhausted muscles trembled, threatening to give out. Gabriella was by her side in an instant.
“Steady, steady,” Gabriella said. “I’ve got you. Just take it one step at a time.”
Gabriella helped Fiona up the beach toward Mr. Kimura, Sefu, Ms. Therian, and Darren. Someone’s missing, Fiona thought, but her mind was so bleary it took a moment to figure out who.
“Mack,” she said. “Where’s Mack?”
“Later,” Ms. Therian said shortly. “What happened?”
Fiona shook her head. “The selkies voted for neutrality,” she said. “But I learned the Queen’s Song. I know it.”
“What’s the Queen’s Song?” asked Darren.
“It will stop Auden Ironbound’s magic,” Fiona explained. “And knowing it makes me immune to the Horn of Power, too.”
“But we’re already immune,” Gabriella said.
“No,” Fiona said, trying to explain through her exhaustion. “Not anymore.”
Then her head, so heavy on her neck, fell forward as Fiona succumbed to sleep at last. There was a hand on her shoulder, shaking her.
“Let me sleep,” she mumbled.
“Fiona, wake up, wake up!” Ms. Therian was saying. “We need you, Fiona. Wake up!”
Fiona forced her eyes open. “Sorry,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“You said that younglings are not immune to the horn anymore,” Ms. Therian said urgently. “What did you mean by that?”
“My mom told me,” Fiona replied. “Since it was repaired with the strength of younglings, they’re no longer immune. That’s why Auden Ironbound kidnapped Darren and the others.”
A look of horror crossed Darren’s face as he realized exactly what Fiona was saying. “I’m sorry—” he began.
“No,” Mr. Kimura cut him off. “There’s no need for that, and no time. Gabriella.”
Mr. Kimura twisted a gleaming gold ring off his finger. His hand was steady as he held out the ring to her. Fiona was too tired to wonder about it.
“There’s no time to summon Rosa. You are our only hope of forestalling Auden Ironbound’s attack,” Mr. Kimura told Gabriella. “Whatever it takes, you must delay him long enough for Fiona to finish her song.”
“Whatever it takes,” she replied, nodding.
“And remember—”
Mr. Kimura stopped speaking abruptly; something in the distance had captured his attention. When Fiona turned around to see, adrenaline surged through her veins.
Against a bloodred sky, Auden Ironbound stood, with his army in perfect formation behind him. From this distance, Fiona couldn’t tell if they were Changers or warlocks—not that it mattered. Because every last one of them was ready to fight.
Auden Ironbound raised the Horn of Power, which glinted in the light from the rising sun. Then he stepped forward, and in horrifying unison, the army began to march behind him, in lockstep.
They were coming.
All of a sudden, Fiona noticed that there was something else breaking through the crowd. She squinted her eyes, trying to get a closer look—it was a kitsune with two tails, his eyes glowing an eerie red—
Suddenly, Fiona gasped. “Mack!” she cried. “They’ve got Mack!”
“The curse?” Gabriella asked, looking to Mr. Kimura.
Mr. Kimura only nodded in response.
Gabriella’s golden cat eyes were flashing with anger as she jammed the ring onto her finger. There was a faint crackling noise as a shimmering, magical force field surrounded her.
The ring, Fiona realized. It’s enchanted!
“You have to go,” Gabriella told the others. “I’ll guard Fiona. Get back to the base as fast as you can, before it’s too late.”
Then came a sound both terrible and familiar: It resonated in their bodies, vibrating their very bones. The dreaded blast from the Horn of Power seemed to echo off the ocean itself.
It was already too late.
Chapter 13
The Queen’s Song
Everything happened at the same time.
Gabriella transformed, the golden ring gleaming against her black fur as it cast a protective shield around her. Mr. Kimura’s, Ms. Therian’s, and Sefu’s eyes all glowed red. They spun around and began marching toward Auden Ironbound’s army, disappearing into its ranks. The horn had control of them—and there was nothing Fiona could do to reach them.
What about Darren? Fiona thought frantically.
Too late, Gabriella replied, gesturing at the sky with her paw. Fiona glanced up and saw Darren in his impundulu form, swooping overhead. Even from this distance, she could see that his eyes had turned red too. Just like that, their closest allies had become their enemies.
I don’t understand, Fiona told Gabriella. Why isn’t the horn controlling you too?
I’ll explain later! Gabriella replied. Just sing!
Sing.
It sounded so easy when Gabriella said it like that. But Fiona was suddenly awash with dread. It was too much pressure, the stakes were too high. . . .
Every grain of sand trembled from the force of the army’s march.
Fear overcame Fiona; she stumbled backward, wishing she could escape. But there was no escape; just the broad sea behind her. Already the rising tide was lapping at her feet.
The water.
Far beyond where the eye could see, Fiona’s mother swam in these same waters. All those years she’d been out there, watching, waiting. It all came rushing back to her: swimming with Mom, the conch-lit shore of the Isles of Saorsie, the council, the trials . . .
The song.
The Queen’s Song filled her heart; it flooded her veins; it even flowed into her lungs. That familiar warmth spread across her skin, and Fiona could picture the glowing rune appearing on her forehead.
She opened her mouth and sang.
Her voice was small but steady; the song sounded right, and that knowledge made Fiona more confident.
Just like you promised, Mom, she thought as the ancient melody escaped from her lips. I’m singing the Queen’s Song.
The army kept approaching. Overhead, the clouds were gathering. They crackled with sparks, and Fiona knew that Darren was preparing to strike. To think he would use his lightning against her, against Gabriella . . .
No, she told herself. That’s not Darren. Darren would never do that. All of this is Auden Ironbound—all of this is his fault.
Then, to Fiona’s horror, she could clearly see Mr. Kimura, Ms. Therian, Sefu, and Mack among the warriors. As they came closer, Fiona could see their expressions more clearly. They looked eager to fight.
The sight made her feel sick, so sick that her song faltered—once, twice—
Gabriella’s fur was standing on end as she swiped at the approaching army, her long claws glinting in the early-morning light. K
eep singing! Gabriella urged Fiona. I’ve got your back. . . . Don’t think about them—close your eyes if you have to . . .
Fiona followed Gabriella’s advice, squeezing her eyes shut tight. At last, the crescendo—the last note carried on the ocean breeze like the pealing of a bell.
Fiona opened her eyes, hardly daring to hope that she had succeeded.
But the army was still moving. With every step they took, Fiona became more and more certain of one agonizing, undeniable truth: she had failed.
I don’t understand, Fiona cried. I sang it just like I did before! Why didn’t it work?
Try again! You can do it! Gabriella replied. The first wave of soldiers was just feet away now; there were too many of them for Gabriella to hold off by herself, but Fiona knew she would fight until the end.
If she won’t give up, then neither will I, Fiona vowed. Then she began to sing again, though it was hard to keep singing when the danger was so great, bearing down on them from all sides. Fiona sang every last note her mother had taught her.
But the Queen’s Song didn’t even slow Auden Ironbound’s approach.
Maybe this is it, Fiona thought numbly. Maybe it was all for nothing.
Sing louder!
Gabriella’s command ripped through Fiona’s brain, triggering something—something she should’ve remembered . . .
. . . you must sing with conviction. You have to mean it, really mean it; every note must come from your heart. . . .
And just like that, Fiona knew what she had to do—even though she had no idea how to begin.
How do I sing with conviction? she wondered. It was about more than just being loud, Fiona knew that much. But even finding more volume seemed insurmountable in the face of the approaching army.
Do it or die, Fiona suddenly thought. She reached down, down, down inside herself, past the fear and the exhaustion and the doubt until, at last, she discovered what she was looking for: her voice.
After all, it had been there all along, just waiting for Fiona to find it.
When Fiona opened her mouth to try again, she threw back her head and let the Queen’s Song pour out, just as she had when she sang with her mother. No hesitation, no doubt. She sang to the sun and the stars; she sang to the ocean and the land; she sang to the selkies—who were far from her hearing—to the army that was bearing down upon her, but above all, to Auden Ironbound.
