Charlie Hernández & the League of Shadows: Chapters 28–37

With its old-school baroque facade and pointy steeples, it looked like something straight out of the Middle Ages.

With its old-school baroque facade and pointy steeples, it looked like something straight out of the Middle Ages.

His silver guitarra glinted in a strip of pale moonlight, and the black metal spurs on his black leather boots clinked with his every step.

An icy gust of wind howled down from the sky and tore through the alleyway, tugging viciously at our clothes, pulling at our hair, and making my eyes water. Violet's gown billowed out behind her like a sail.

For some reason, his freakishly calm demeanor made my pulse kick up another notch, and I swung my head around, running even harder now.

No sooner had he spoken those words than jagged bolts of angry red lightning began spitting down from the sky like artillery fire, hammering into the ground and throwing up huge chunks of scorched stone.

The instant we stepped inside, the basajaun slammed the doors shut behind us with a reverberating boom! almost as loud as the thunder itself.

She'd go on and on about the soaring vaulted ceilings, the Gothic cloisters, the Pórtico de la Gloria—and especially the high altar with its gold-leaf canopy that covered the crypt and the massive Solomonic columns twined with grape leaves.

The pool itself couldn't have been more than three feet deep, but the water was such a deep azure color that it looked almost black.

Within a few years of its discovery, the limestone walls that encased the Fountain of Youth began to crack, and other sources of water from various subterranean tributaries mingled with the fountain's water, contaminating it.

He wore a snug-fitting, waist-length jacket (I think it was called a doublet), loose-fitting hose, and tall black boots.

“You’re the oracle?"
"Don't sound so surprised. I was an explorer, a sailor, a governor—I named Florida, for the love of the sea! You don't think I can handle being a part-time diviner?"

I'd like to see you try to survive thirty long days out at sea with nothing but a map, a compass, and your steely Spanish intuition to guide you.

All around my island, beyond the great seas, evil plots and schemes and the fires of war are constantly stoked.

“How the hero manifests animal traits and uses them and the witch’s own vanity to defeat her and save the village."

A fisherman in Andalucía would tell you that the Morphling defeated the witch by manifesting fins and gills and then challenging her to a race through the Mediterranean, where she drowned in her own tempest.

“Now, if you two would please excuse me, I have impending calamities and the end of the known world to attend to."

It was a minute or two before the first bell, so the halls were virtually empty—just a few stragglers wandering around, trying to buy themselves a few more seconds of freedom before first period.

The sight of someone being abused like that, of a bunch of morons taking pleasure in the suffering of others—taking pleasure in the suffering of my best friend, no less—sent a surge of anger through me, and I charged up the hall, pushing my way through the clique of idiots and getting right in the chief idiot's face.

Inside, a defeated-looking Alvin was curled into a tiny ball, his arms crushed up against his body, glasses dangling precariously from the tops of his ears.

His huge sable steed let out its own wild cry.

“Charlie, La Uña de la Bruja is a cursed weapon, a thing wrought of pure evil. And the fact that a sombra like El Sombrerón is hunting for it means La Mano Peluda is now poised to begin their slaughter."

Got a bunch of links that, as Cap McCaw might say, 'Might just be pivotal to our current dilemma, my dear.'

In its place, peeking out from under a velvet jeweler's cloth, was a jagged hunk of crystal. Dark red and radiating a faint yet dazzling light, it was about as long as a TV remote and shaped sort of like a bear claw, with tendrils of smoke roiling around just beneath its glassy surface.

Overhead, the steel rafters were vibrating like plucked strings.

The flour she ingested was infused with a rare herb not found in this world.

The same long, slender physique, the same glowing green eyes—even the same haughty, I'm-just-a-wee-bit-better-than-you tone of voice.

“Oh, don't look so empty-headed! Don't you get it? The poison your little friend accidentally ingested is the potion I crafted for you. I slipped a few teaspoons into that lobster bisque you loved so much and allowed your body's natural defense mechanisms to take care of the rest, to develop a perfectly genuine-seeming manifestation. Ingenious, no?”

How could I have spent all this time living with her and never once have had the slightest inkling that something was up?

"I kept them alive for leverage's sake...in case you needed a little extra motivation. But their usefulness seems to have run its course."

Now, unbeknownst to your abuela, the witch she had killed was particularly difficult to keep dead for reasons we won't get into right now, but suffice to say that when she returned from La Tierra de los Muertos and learned of all that had transpired since her most tragic death, she was beyond furious.

However, once her anger subsided, she realized that your grandmother had actually done her a wonderful favor!

I turned to see a couple of delivery people standing in the doorway—a rail-thin guy in an El Tri T-shirt, Marlins cap, and ratty jeans and a woman wearing black visor-style sunglasses; they were pushing a dolly loaded with a huge wooden coffin.

“Custom-made casket," the guy said proudly. “Twelve foot by three with silver trim, silk lining, and our patented extra-triple-plush package.”

In the instant La Cuca was distracted by Alvin, I felt her invisible hold falter and made my move.

"YOU CAN'T EVEN FATHOM MY POWER, BOY! I AM THE MOST POWERFUL BRUJA IN ALL THE WORLD!"

"OLD?" La Cuca let out a hissing howl of fury. "I'LL SHOW YOU OLD YOU HAPLESS HALFLING! I'LL SHOW YOU SPEED LIKE YOUR PUNY MIND CAN'T EVEN POSSIBLY IMAGINE!"

Squinting against the thick shafts of sunlight pouring in through a ripped-open section of roof, I scanned the crowd and saw a tall, slim lady in a neat business suit making a beeline straight for us.

His hands were as big and calloused as I remembered.

See, El Justo Juez and El Cadejo both thought it would be prudent to keep an eye on you even after we received the misleading report from the oracle.