Page 49 of Unbetrothed

The door slammed shut as if by invisible hands, and my heart leaped into my throat. Zichri had not moved from my side.

Breathing hard, I said, “What is your name?”

“Uly. Whyzer Uly.”

I flinched. My uncle’s name was Uly. But Papá had never said his brother became the whyzer of Valle de los Fantasmas. “How do you know me?”

“I think you have an idea.” Uly grabbed a clay jar from a shelf and sloshed a thick red liquid into a cup. He tipped Blas’s head forward to drink.

A pungent odor attacked my nose. I cringed and forced my cheeks to relax, trying to maintain a semblance of ease. “Uncle Uly? You’re alive? Why are you living in this forsaken valley?” Blood-colored liquid dripped onto Blas’s tunic. “What is that?”

“Some say I am a blessing. Your father thinks I am a curse. Believe me when I say I do not wish you harm.” Uncle Uly shifted on his stool. He pursed his lips and twitched his nose. “It was not I who withheld your gift. There is another whyzer in the valley.”

Firelight danced on Uly’s long, peppered hair. How should I feel about this man? His gaze reminded me of Papá’s, yet softer. He even twiddled his fingers over his knee like Papá.

Blas groaned in pain. His eyes pressed shut and sweat beaded on his forehead. My insides twisted into a growing knot.

“Your friend will surely die if you do not get him the antidote. My ministrations can only keep him alive for a little while.”

Zichri stepped forward. “Where can we get the antidote?”

“It seems you are destined for the ruins. The margus plant grows like a weed in that blessed land. I dare not go unless I am invited.” He pulled out a red book from the shelf behind him and thumbed through its pages until he found a drawing scrawled in black ink. A castle was drawn near a waterfall, and a forest labeled Chupalma surrounded the ruins on the east side. “This slender-leafed plant will save his life. I must warn you, though, you have but a day, possibly two, before the red berry poison is irreversible.”

“Blue. He ate many of them,” I said. “And what are the Chupalma?”

“No. He ate a berry from the red trees. They lure their prey. If he had eaten more than one, he’d be dead.” Uly slid a folded parchment out from between the pages and placed the red book back on his shelf, leaving no room for argument. “Everything in this valley is meant to keep all others out. Including the Chupalma.”

Various questions spun through my mind.

“Then, how are you here if the valley pushes all others out? And you still haven’t answered the question about the Chupalma.” My voice sounded too small for a princess, so I lifted my chin. I had heard whispers of my lost uncle who had died in the wilderness. They said he went mad because of a dream that nagged at him. That’s why I didn’t want to tell anyone about my dreams—especially the ones where I wielded terrible power.

Uly smiled weakly. “You know what it’s like to be called into the valley, don’t you, my dear? I understand how you were desperate enough to make an oath.”

My lips parted in shock. “How do you know this?” I asked.

“I’ve met your whyzer, and I have my ways of hearing about the world outside the valley.” Uly smoothed his beard. He understood a piece of me I’d never shared with anyone.

“You should head west. Here’s a map to guide you. The Chupalma reside in the forest of giant trees.” With knobby fingers, he unfolded the worn parchment and pointed to scribbles labeled “Chupalma Forest.”

On closer inspection, the scribbles had human figures in the shadows behind the trunks. I took the map. “Are there more people living in this valley?”

“Living? No. But yes, there are others in the valley. And they’d like nothing more than to ensnare you. Do not accept their help. Better yet, avoid them if you are able. Keep your head down and focus on your destination. The Chupalma cannot touch you if you do not engage with them.”

Wood popped in the fire. Words formed on the tip of my tongue. Did I want to ask more questions about these Chupalma? Would I have the courage to get to the ruins if I knew more? Instead of speaking, I clenched my teeth.

Zichri raked a hand through his hair. “Is there anything else we need to know?”

“The trails are mischievous, but if you stay attentive, they will not trick you. You should head out soon if you want to make it there and back before dark.” Uncle Uly whistled a tune as he wiped Blas’s brow and served him more of the blood-red drink.

Something about Blas, limp and lifeless, sent tremors spiking through me. Did I even want to ask how a trail could trick a person? I whipped around and strode to the door, welcoming the outdoors.

“Don’t engage the Chupalma,” Uly called. “They’re far worse than any other terrors in the valley.”

Humid air hugged my body. Tallgrass swished as I made my way across the clearing. I spotted a tree trunk near a dirt trail leading into the forest beyond Uncle Uly’s peaceful abode.

My arms tingled with the constant itch of my metallic markings. The oath brought me here, but I imagined trekking to this place for more than half my life. Would I still have wanted to come if I had known every tribulation I would encounter: the murderous hornets, Laude almost drowning, a cat nearly mauling me, Blas eating poison berries, trickster trails, Chupalma, and … Zichri? I opened the map, following the inky marks curving around the paper.

Zichri made his way through the tall grasses, a crestfallen expression set on his face, so different from his normal disposition. Memories of happy days with Lux flooded over me, and the thought that after this trip, I would have those days forever. I passed Zichri a sidelong look, guilt swarming within my mind. He, of course, looked stunning, even with those worries creased on his forehead. Why did I secretly hope to fit Zichri into my life beyond this quest? And not to gather information or to capture an enemy soldier.

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