The Emerald Mask (3 page)

“Lost?” Darren exclaimed. “You mean you don't know where it is?”

“It is locked in a chest that can only be opened by a Changer,” Ms. Therian said. “But the location of the chest, I'm afraid, is unknown.”

“It doesn't matter if Auden Ironbound finds Circe's Compass,” Gabriella said, sounding braver than she felt. “We beat him before. We'll beat him again.”

“But wouldn't it be better if
we
find Circe's Compass first?” asked Fiona.

“That's precisely the plan,” Ms. Therian explained. “The First Four have already begun investigating. And, as I'm sure you know, magical objects emit their own signals, a beacon of sorts. They're not
that
hard to find—if you know what to look for.”

“So . . . you're saying it wouldn't be hard for Auden Ironbound to find it, either?” asked Darren.

There was a strange glint in Ms. Therian's eyes when she answered. “I never said that
he
knows what to look for,” she said.

I guess that's supposed to make us feel better,
Gabriella thought—but she wasn't very reassured.

“There's a literary festival at New Brighton University on Saturday,” Fiona said suddenly. “I could go with my dad and check out the rare books room. It's closed to the public, but my dad has access. We found information on the Horn of Power there. Maybe there will be something about Circe's Compass.”

“Want some company?” asked Darren. Like Fiona's dad, Darren's mom was a professor at New Brighton University, and his big brother, Ray, was a student there.

“Sure,” replied Fiona. “Anybody else want to come?”

“I wish I could, but I have a game,” Gabriella told them.

Mack looked torn. “I was planning to work on my entry for the art show,” he said. “But if I finish early, I want to come too.”

“Excellent plan,” Ms. Therian said. “Remember, I tell you this not to alarm you, but to make you aware. We don't expect Auden Ironbound will be ready to mount another attack for
quite some time—but the situation demands constant vigilance all the same. Ultimately, his odds of success increase when we are distracted or fail to pay attention to the signs around us. And on that note, it's time to continue your training. Go ahead and transform so we can get started.”

It was like Ms. Therian had said magic words.

Gabriella's transformation to
nahual
was instantaneous—and effortless. It was a tremendous relief to slip into her jaguar self, to see the world through those wide, golden cat's eyes. Hearing about Auden Ironbound and his new plot was unsettling, to say the least. But in her
nahual
form, Gabriella felt ready for anything.

The hint of a smile flickered across Ms. Therian's face as Gabriella stretched her legs, flexing her wide, velvety paws to reveal razor-sharp claws. “Climbing for you today,” Ms. Therian said, nodding toward a rocky structure against the far wall of the gym.

Gabriella didn't wait around to hear the others' assignments. The opportunities to be in her
nahual
form were few and far between.

And she wanted to make every moment count.

All too soon, the bell rang. Not only was Changers class over, the school day was, too. For Gabriella, the afternoon was packed: soccer practice; helping her little sister, Maritza, with homework; chores; dinner; starting her own homework. Still, Gabriella lingered in her
nahual
form as she ran one last lap around the gym, a streak of midnight-black fur under the fluorescent lights.

The others clapped when she finished; as Gabriella changed back into her human form, she was already beaming.

“Save some of that for the field, huh?” Mack teased her as he packed his comics.

“Are you kidding?” Gabriella asked as she grabbed her backpack. “I only wish I could.”

“It's always best to be discrete—difficult though it may be,” Ms. Therian said.

Gabriella turned around quickly. “I was—”

“I know how hard it is,” Ms. Therian told her. “Being split between two skins is a challenge few could handle. That's why this space we have—this time we share—is so important. Both of your selves must have the opportunity to be free.”

There was a long pause. Ms. Therian opened her mouth, as if there were something more she wanted to say. But all she told them was “See you tomorrow.”

Mack and Gabriella watched her leave the Ancillary Gym.

“That was . . . weird,” Mack finally said.

“Was it?” Gabriella asked. She couldn't quite tell. Ms. Therian was always very . . . careful about her words.

“I feel like she's trying to tell us something,” Mack said. “My grandfather gets like that too. And I'm like,
What?
What are you trying to tell me? Just
say
it; not everything needs to be a riddle or whatever!”

Gabriella started to laugh. “I guess being mysterious is just another thing that the First Four do better than anyone,” she joked.

“Wonder when Ms. Therian will teach us about that,” Mack said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He made his voice deeper and said, “The half-truths of a Changer's existence are not truths at all, but lies.”

Gabriella applauded. “Perfect! That made, like, zero sense.”

“Maybe next time I transform, I'll have earned my
third tail for mysteriousness,” Mack joked, making Gabriella laugh again.

She was still smiling in the locker room when she changed into her practice uniform. As she met up with her teammates on the field, Gabriella felt good. Ready. The memory of yesterday's practice was fresh in her mind, but Gabriella wasn't worried.
I got all that
nahual
stuff out of my system in class,
she told herself.
Everything's under control now.

The whistle blew.

The ball fell.

And Gabriella was off.

She ran so hard that her feet flattened the grass; she ran so fast that her dark ponytail streamed behind her like a blackbird in flight. The sun was bright; it smiled on Gabriella as she dashed down the field. Her kicks were perfectly positioned; perfectly restrained. The ball glided forward as if it were on wings. And it wasn't just Gabriella—the whole team seemed to be playing stronger, tighter, better than ever before, as if every other player was inspired by Gabriella's command of the field.

Like the day before, Gabriella approached Trisha, who was warily blocking the goal.
Better get out of the
way, girl,
Gabriella thought as she positioned the ball for one last, solid kick. Gabriella had watched Trisha play goalie plenty of times. She could guess which blocking maneuver Trisha would attempt. But as anticipation rippled through Gabriella's muscles, she knew this was one goal that Trisha could never block.

Gabriella's whole body moved into position for the kick. That solid sense of connection, the leather of her cleat against the leather of the ball . . .

Whooosh!

The ball sailed into the goal. As her teammates erupted into cheers, Gabriella did a fist pump in triumph . . .

And drew blood.

She felt the sharpness slice her palm and glanced at it, perplexed before the pain set in. There was a razor-thin scratch in her skin, not very deep, not very painful, but enough for a line of bright-red blood to seep from it.

How'd I do that?
Gabriella wondered.

A closer look told her all she needed to know.

Her fingernails, always clipped short, had transformed into claws. Claws that were two inches long. Claws that ended in sharp, deadly points.

Oh, no,
Gabriella thought as a wave of understanding hit her. Panicking was easy. Staying calm—now that was the challenge. She balled up her fists, not even caring if she accidentally sliced her palms again. Then she forced herself to take a deep, slow breath. She'd lost control on the field—there was absolutely zero doubt about that—and somehow, someway, she had to get it back.

I am in control of my transformations,
Gabriella told herself as she began to count backward from ten.
I am in control of my transformations.

When she reached zero, Gabriella opened her eyes.

The claws were gone—thankfully.

But had anyone on the team seen them? She glanced warily at the rest of the girls as they helped Trisha pack up the equipment. No one was pointing at Gabriella in shock and horror. No one was even looking at her.

So far, so good,
Gabriella thought.

That's when Coach Connors called her name.

Uh-oh,
she thought, instantly alert.
Did Coach see my . . . claws? Or . . . my eyes?
Her eyes! Gabriella hadn't even thought about them. If her fingernails had become claws, had her eyes transformed too?

And worse, what if they were still changed?

“I saw what happened on the field,” Coach Connors began.

He knows.
Gabriella's thoughts raced as she tried to figure out an explanation, an excuse,
anything
to tell him.

“It's fine to push yourself like that during a practice, but when you're out there on Saturday, pace yourself, okay?” Coach Connors continued. “There are
two
halves, remember? You don't need to win in the first ten minutes.”

“Yeah. Absolutely. I'll remember that,” Gabriella heard herself say—boring, ordinary things, not the frantic, fumbling excuses she'd expected to make.

“Great work today, Rivera,” Coach Connors told her before turning back to the school building.

And then Gabriella was alone.

She stared at her palm, where the long, red streak was proof that her powers had shown up during practice. Today had been a close call—closer than all the other near misses.
Maybe I should talk to Ms. Therian,
Gabriella thought.
I'm not sure I can handle this by myself.

A pair of arms grabbed Gabriella from behind. She jolted from the surprise, twisted herself away . . .

And looked straight into the familiar brown eyes of her favorite aunt.

“Mija!”
Tía Rosa exclaimed as she pulled Gabriella toward her and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Tía Rosa!” shrieked Gabriella as she threw her arms around her aunt's neck. “What are you doing here?”

“My apartment, it's a mess!” Tía Rosa groaned. “All that rain from the hurricane a few weeks ago, it flooded my building, and now we have this disgusting mold problem. The air is so bad. It's very unhealthy.”

Gabriella wrinkled her nose. “That's gross!” she replied.

“You said it,” Tía Rosa declared. “So the management has to treat the entire building for mold, and all the tenants had to leave for ten days. But that's actually good news for me, because I'm going to be staying with
you
!”

“You are?” Gabriella cried. “For an entire week?” Her
tía
Rosa lived in New Brighton—only an hour away—but her busy work schedule meant that Gabriella didn't get to see her very often.

“That's right,” Tía Rosa said, nodding. “I even took time off from work. It's going to be like a vacation with my three favorite girls—you, your sister, and your
mami
.”

“Maybe I should take some time off from school,” Gabriella said with a grin.

Tía Rosa chuckled as she linked arms with Gabriella. “Well, you know
I
would approve, but your mother? Not so much,” she said. “Now, let's get home so we can have some fun!”

When Gabriella and Tía Rosa got home a little later, the house seemed empty—at first.

“Ma!” Gabriella called out as she tossed her backpack onto a chair. “Ma? You home?”

“Up here!” Ma's voice was faint, drifting down from the attic.

Gabriella bounded the stairs two at a time, with Tía Rosa right behind her.