The Emerald Mask (11 page)

“Sugar?” Ma asked, glancing at Gabriella. Whenever Ma had made
xocolatl
in the past, she'd added plenty of sugar to temper the bitterness of the chocolate and the spiciness of the peppers.

“Sugar?” scoffed Tía Rosa. “In
xocolatl
?”

“The girls like it a little sweet,” Ma replied. “You know it's too strong for children, Rosa. Even Mami used to add honey when we were little.”

“No sugar,” Gabriella spoke up. “Not this time.”

“Yes!” Tía Rosa cheered. “That's my brave girl.
Xocolatl
is a sacred drink. It's your heritage.”

“Our ancestors, the Aztecs, used to drink
xocolatl
for strength and courage,” Ma said, whisking cocoa into the spicy water until it frothed and foamed.

Ma poured the mixture into three heavy mugs. Tía Rosa brought one over to Gabriella and winked as she placed it in front of her. “It will give you strength and courage too,” she whispered.

Gabriella smiled as she brought the mug to her lips and took a sip. Without sugar,
xocolatl
tasted completely different. Bitter and fiery, it burned Gabriella's throat when she swallowed. But even though it wasn't the most delicious drink Gabriella had ever tasted, there was something about it that made her want more. Just one taste made her feel calm, strong, and clear-eyed. As she took a second sip, Gabriella understood why a warrior would crave
xocolatl.

Because right now, with Ma and Tía Rosa by her
side and Aztec blood in her veins, Gabriella felt strong enough to face anything.

After dinner Gabriella retreated to her room to start her homework. She did her best work—Ma would accept no less, and Gabriella knew that if her grades started to slip, Ma would yank her out of soccer faster than she could blink. And then Coach Connors would be
really
mad.

But the moment Gabriella finished her last math problem, she reached for the packet she'd gotten at Comics Club. She'd never been that interested in art, but all afternoon she'd been longing to keep drawing the Emerald Wildcat. In the privacy of her bedroom, Gabriella could even get out the mask and look at it while she drew, instead of trying to re-create it from memory.

As soon as the outlines were done, Gabriella shaded in the mask with a bright-green pencil. But it wasn't enough. The mask she'd drawn was missing something—the ethereal, green glimmer that made the Emerald Wildcat's real mask so alluring.

Gabriella frowned. Then, entirely on impulse, she smudged a little iridescent green eye shadow onto
her drawing to make the mask shimmer.

Better,
she thought.
Now on to the rest.

The minutes ticked away while Gabriella sketched, erased, sketched again, and shaded. The blank nothingness of the page was soon transformed. It wasn't a great drawing—maybe it wasn't even a good drawing—but there was no mistaking it: The Emerald Wildcat was taking form, right on Gabriella's paper.

Even after she said good night to her family, Gabriella was glued to the page. She glanced guiltily at the door as she slipped into bed.
Ma won't care if I draw a little longer,
she thought, stifling a yawn.

The pencil in her hand made her feel as strong as the
xocolatl
. She imagined what it would be like to feel this way at her next soccer game . . . to run without fear, to score without worry.
I am in control of my powers,
she thought contentedly as she slipped into sleep, her sketchbook still in hand.

And suddenly, Gabriella wasn't just in control of her powers. She was
using
them.
I am a
nahual
!
Gabriella thought with pride as she raced down the field with her jaguar speed. When she kicked the ball, it soared into the net like a missile. Again and again and again, she ran, she
kicked, she scored. If the Emerald Wildcat—whoever she was—could own her powers, then so could Gabriella.

The game ended, but not before Gabriella scored one last goal. She threw back her head, laughing in triumph as she punched her fist high into the air. All her teammates swarmed around her, calling her name as they lifted her up.

They love me the way I am,
Gabriella thought joyfully.
Just like everyone loved the Emerald Wildcat.

Then Gabriella felt a strange, rippling sensation at the top of her head.
Wait
, she thought frantically.

But it was too late.

Two tufted ears.

Two glowing cat's eyes.

A long, swishing tail.

And a body, head to toe, covered in jet-black fur.

The transformation happened so fast, it left Gabriella breathless. There was a price to pay, she realized numbly, for using her powers. There was no halfway point, no middle ground. The joke, of course, was that she'd ever thought she was in control. Her careless mistake couldn't have been further from the truth.

And that was the last thought Gabriella had before she tumbled to the ground and landed with a hard thud.

She looked up from the muddy field into the hard, hateful eyes of her teammates. They had transformed too—from supportive friends to jeering enemies.

“Cheater!” came a voice.

“Freak! Freak!” Trisha screeched, pointing a long finger at her. Soon, everyone else had joined in too.

Gabriella tried to breathe; tried to count. But all she could manage was wrapping her long tail around herself and hanging her head in shame.

Then it got worse.

Trisha—or Abby or Lauren or Josie—reached out and grabbed a handful of Gabriella's silky fur. Grabbed and yanked hard, leaving a bald patch in her sleek coat. When someone else did the same, Gabriella realized that she had to get away. She wasn't safe anymore.

Then again, was she ever?

Gabriella's
nahual
speed came to her rescue then as she leaped away from her teammates and bounded over to the sidelines, where, to her surprise, Mack, Darren, and Fiona were waiting.

“Please,” she gasped. “Help me.”

But her friends just stood there, staring at her.

“How could you?” Mack asked.

“Everyone knows now,” Darren said, glancing wildly around. “Everyone knows!”

“I'm sorry!” Gabriella moaned. “I never meant—”

A thick, choking cloud swirled up from the ground, cloaking them in mist.

“He's coming,” Fiona cried in a panic. “Auden Ironbound is coming! No—he's
here
!”

That's when Gabriella awoke, her face wet with tears that had soaked her drawing of the Emerald Wildcat. It took a moment—several moments, actually—for her to realize that it had all been a dream. And that meant Gabriella's secret was still safe . . . for now.

Gabriella picked up her drawing and stared at it. Even though it was hopelessly smudged, she could still see the shimmer of the Emerald Wildcat's mask through the tearstains.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

Then she crumpled up her ruined drawing and threw it into the trash.

Fiona held on to the side of the boat and breathed in deeply. The sea spray on her face was more than just refreshing; it was tempting. In just minutes, Fiona knew, the boat would approach the site of the shipwreck and she'd be able to transform into a
selkie
at last. It had been so long since she'd swum freely in the great blue ocean. The saltwater pool in the Ancillary Gym was fine for practice—but it definitely wasn't the same.

“So . . . do we have a Plan B?” Darren asked suddenly.

Everyone turned to look at him—except for Fiona, who kept her eyes on the horizon.

“Why do we need a Plan B when Plan A hasn't failed yet?” asked Mack.

That got Fiona's attention. “Plan A is
not
going to fail!” she exclaimed. She'd been up half the night memorizing everything she could about the wreck of the
Seafarer
and poring over the enchanted pages of
The Compendium
. Fiona was determined to make their mission a success—and when she was determined to succeed, practically nothing could stand in her way.

“Sorry. That came out wrong,” Mack quickly apologized. “I meant, obviously, Fiona's going to rock this, so why do we even need a Plan B?”

Fiona laughed. “Don't oversell it, Mack,” she said.

“Like, here's the thing,” Darren began. “How come we're so sure that Circe's Compass is still down there? There are always divers scouting around shipwrecks, looking for treasure or cool stuff. Wouldn't it have been found—or looted—long ago?”

Everyone turned to Fiona. Darren had a good point; luckily, Fiona had a good answer.

“Remember what Ms. Therian said last week? Circe's Compass is protected by Changer magic,” she explained.
“Only a Changer can see the chest it's in; it will be invisible to everyone else. The
Seafarer
might've been picked clean over the years; there might be nothing left—but if Circe's Compass was on that ship, it must still be there!”

Fiona glanced back out to sea. “Unless a Changer took it—which is always a possibility, I suppose. But if a Changer had found it, I feel like
The Compendium
wouldn't have shown us the site of the shipwreck. The book . . . it keeps track of things.”

“Almost there,” Gabriella spoke up suddenly. She'd been studying the map that Fiona had copied from
The Compendium
.

Fiona hugged her backpack as Miles cut the engine. “Is it time?” she asked eagerly.

Miles glanced around. “Yeah,” he finally replied. “This is it. Are you sure you kids know what you're doing? I was there last month. I know everything you guys did for us against Auden Ironbound, but—”

“Look,” Mack said. “We may be kids, but we're a lot tougher than you think.”

Miles looked unsure, but it was too late to turn back now.

Fiona picked up her cloak, and Darren stood beside her, cracking his knuckles. Already tiny sparks of electricity were forming at his fingertips.

“You want to go?” Fiona asked.

Darren grinned. “Ladies first,” he replied.

Fiona nodded and then wrapped the cloak across her shoulders with a flourish. She took one last breath as a girl—as a human—before she spun and transformed into a seal.

It was as easy as that.

With big, dark eyes, Fiona in her seal form watched as the blinding bolt of lightning materialized, signifying Darren's transformation. In his
impundulu
form, he stretched his long wings, displaying all his shimmering white-tipped feathers, and then folded them neatly against his back.

Good luck with the lookout,
Fiona thought to him.

You too,
he replied.
Not that you'll need it.

Then Fiona plunged into the cold, murky waters. As a human she would've been freezing cold, unable to see a thing.

But as a seal? The experience was completely
different. The shafts of sunlight that filtered through the water provided more than enough illumination for Fiona to clearly navigate. She'd already figured out how to use the choppy waves to her advantage, propelling herself forward with their momentum. And the bone-deep chill of the water? In her
selkie
form, Fiona didn't even notice it.

Fiona was so tempted to swim freely, darting over and under the waves. But now was not the time.
Would it ever be the time,
she wondered,
or will I only be allowed in the ocean on missions?
No, now was the time to stay focused, as always. To find Circe's Compass and keep it safe.

Fiona plunged down, down, down into the depths. All the breathing exercises she'd been working on in Changers class were really paying off; somehow, her lungs felt full of clear, oxygen-rich air, even though she'd already been underwater for minutes.