surrounding trees.

I don’t remember hitting the ground, though I’m cushioned by

curly, dark-green grass that tickles my cheek. The copper taste of

blood fills my mouth from where I must’ve bitten my tongue. I lean

back on my elbows and take in the scenery.

The scarlet trees are so tall their lush, black leaves form a

protective barrier that blocks out the sky. There’s an energy here

that feels as old as time itself. Whispers come from the wind weaving

between branches, the trickle of water down tree trunks, and the

chirping of insects foreign to me. Giant, heart-shaped plants shoot up

from the ground, like natural shelter for the lazy snails dragging

their shells on the rain forest ground.

It’s familiar but not. The colors are all wrong. Like I was

wearing a dull filter my whole life and now there are only the

brilliant hues, raw and dark all at once.

“Nova?”

I stand through the pain. I give thanks to El Terroz by taking a

bit of dirt and pressing it to the center of my forehead.

“Nova?” I say a little louder.

I clutch my crescent moon necklace for some sort of comfort, but

it doesn’t help. I don’t know what I was expecting from Los Lagos, but

a rain forest wasn’t part of it. A whooshing noise catches my

attention, like when the windows are open and my mom is driving down

the highway. I move slowly toward a great big hole in the ground where

a tree has split in two. Thick roots shoot out of the ground, as if

the tree tried to pick up and walk away. I touch a root and feel the

familiar warmth of the tree in my backyard. The black hole sucks in

dirt and leaves and tiny worms, like an insatiable mouth. Its pull

makes me lean toward the swirling void. Slowly, it starts to shrink.

If Lula were here, I’d tell her it reminds me of my screensaver, and

then she’d snicker and Rose would laugh.

Hands fall on my shoulders. I kick back. He grunts.

“We just fell through that,” Nova says, pulling me back a dozen

steps. “You do not want to go back out that way.”

“Why not?” I ask, a wave of vertigo crashing over me. There’s a

black spot in my line of sight from staring at the portal. I shake it

off and focus on Nova. “We can’t just go home that way?”

“The portal is a one-way deal. It’ll close on its own. You’d be

falling with nowhere to go, Ladybird.”

I punch his arm. “ Stop calling me a bird.”

He rubs his bicep, though I doubt it hurt. “I can’t help it. You

remind me of a flightless bird.”

“Flightless birds are penguins and ostriches. And a ladybird is a

bug , genius. That’s not endearing.”

“Fine. You’re a falcon. You just haven’t learned to fly yet.”

For the first time, I notice the bruise on his cheek from the

fall. It looks painful, yet it doesn’t stop him from smiling. Does he

think everything is funny?

“Come on,” he says when I fail to respond.

Behind him is a small camp. There’s a clear patch on the ground

and a fallen tree trunk blanketed by black moss, where he’s spread out

our map, the mace, and a couple of water bottles. I’m suddenly

incredibly thirsty and drink mine in almost one gulp. Nova chuckles,

then refills it from a curled leaf.

“The map marks the safe drinking water,” he tells me.

“That’s good to know. How long have I been out?”

“Time is a human fabrication,” he says, like he’s reciting from a

textbook, “and doesn’t exist in Los Lagos.”

I roll my eyes. “How many fabricated minutes on the ticking thing

around my wrist was I out for, then?”

“Fifteen,” he mumbles. “Thought you could use some rest before we

get going. And check your ticking thing. It’s not ticking no more.”

I tap my waterproof watch, and sure enough, the numbers are

frozen.

Nova walks over to sit on the tree trunk. He shifts all his weight

to his right side when he moves.

“You’re limping.”

“I came down on my left side. I’m fine. It’ll fade.”

“What’s that humming sound?”

“It’s the magic of this place. Don’t you feel it?”

I feel something, like a pulse so rapid all you hear is a

vibrating sound.

“Los Lagos is a place of power. You have power, whether you want

it or not. The land calls out to us. It’s saying hello.”

I stare at the brilliant-blue bug that looks like something out of

a prehistoric exhibit. It scurries across the dirt, right past my

feet. Then it opens up its hard shell, revealing wings. It flies

around my head.

“Hello,” I say, while Nova laughs at me.

“I wouldn’t touch anything,” he says.

“Is it poisonous?” I jerk away from the buzzing little bug. Then

it loses interest in me and flies away into the trees.

“I don’t know,” he says, “but it’s just common sense to not touch

things unless you know what they are.”

“You could always volunteer as a test subject,” I muse.

“So could you.”

The heat starts to rise. I can feel the air turning to steam. I

sit beside him on the tree trunk, facing the map. It’s the most

precious thing we have right now. I touch the thick parchment, whisper

a rezo for my family.

Nova nudges me with his shoulder, sending a spark of pain from the

landing.

“We’re here.” He taps his finger on a dark sketch of land labeled

Selva of Ashes. “It’s a land unto its own, separating it from the rest

of Los Lagos by a river. We have to get across the river, through the

Caves of Night, take this middle path from the fork in the road that

leads through Meadow del Sol, over this small mountain range called

Las Peñas, and boom. We’re at the labyrinth. Cake.”

I want to hyperventilate and slap him at the same time. There’s a

black blotch above the Tree of Souls, at the center of the labyrinth,

like someone set a pen there and let the ink run. “A small mountain

range? Are you crazy? We don’t have the supplies for that!”

“With your powers and my brilliant survival skills, it is cake,

Ladyb-”

“Why can’t we take the path on the left and cut across? There’s an

arrow pointing to it.”

He holds the map up to my face and points. There’s a sliver of a

trail between a place called Bone Valle and the Poison Garden.

“What part of Poison Garden makes you think we should go there?

And Bone Valle.” Vah-yey. He puts an emphasis on that last word.

“That’s straight up what it sounds like. A valley of bones. Not to

mention it borders Campo de Almas. Now, I may not spend a lot of time

around them, but I’ve been told wandering souls can get pretty nasty.”

I get what he’s saying, but whoever drew this map made a direct

line through the worst-sounding places of Los Lagos.

“It’s the most direct route,” I say, wavering on my instinct. I

wipe the sweat from my brow. I drink more water. The insects that were

surrounding us start to fly up to the canopies.

“Look,” he says. “You’re going to have to trust me.”

“Yeah? Because you trust me so much.”

“I don’t,” he says. “You tried to suck the life out of me. If

anyone should have trust issues, it’s me.”

“I’m not the one who spent three years at a juvenile detention

center.”

“I’m not the one who sent her family to hell.”

I stand and walk away. The tree canopy shudders and a thick, warm

rain falls. I raise my face to the heavens. I know that Nova is right.

I have to put all of my trust in him, not just because I’ve paid him,

but also because he’s all I’ve got. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I don’t know why I’m so hard on him. If Lula were here, she would say

this is why Rishi is my only friend. When I was with Rishi, I never