“Alex!” Nova shouts.
I open my eyes despite the pain in my skull to see his hands reaching for me. The bird woman carrying him swoops down past me. I hold my hand out, but everything aches. I manage to graze his fingers, and then he’s gone, into another dark hall.
“Where are you taking him?” My voice is as weak as the pulse of my magic.
I can’t sit up, so I fall right back on the ground. A loose stone digs into my side. From down here, I can see the layout of the cave. The ceiling goes up so high there’s no telling where it ends. The avianas flock to large cavities in the stone walls, and I realize those are their nests.
A few feet away from me is an enormous statue. I recognize the likeness from Rose’s tarot deck—El Cielo, god of the sky. He’s always depicted with great wings and a crown of feathers around his smooth, bald head. Here, he stands with arms stretched out toward the sky and his wings stretched down to his taloned feet.
The large bird that carried me lands at my feet, blocking my view of the statue. Her large talons change into feet with feathers growing at the ankles. I catch a glimpse of strong, muscular legs before the pain in my head forces me to shut my eyes again.
“We do not allow men in the caves,” she says.
I finally succeed on my third attempt at sitting up. Four other avianas flank the one who carried me. In their half-human, half-bird forms, they look even more battered and beaten than before the attack. One of them looks feverish and weak but tries to remain upright.
“What were those creatures?” I ask, rubbing my shoulder.
The bird woman studies me with her unnerving gaze. “Saberskins. They hunt along the wall. Not that there is much to hunt anymore. What is your business here, bruja?”
Her face is more human now, though her striking features retain the likeness of a bird of prey. She’s terrible and wonderful to look at, with soft, bronze wings that grow from the bottom of her arms and reach down to the ground. I wonder if they ever get tired from such a weight. Instead of hands, she’s got long, red talons. When she sets her hands at her sides and paces on the natural dais around me, I notice her hourglass figure, naked except where feathers form natural sort of clothes. Her movements remind me of a hawk watching its prey with luminous, dark eyes. Unlike the others, she’s strong, and I can tell without a doubt that she’s their leader.
“My friend and I,” I say, “we’re trying to get across the caves.”
“Is that all you seek?” She’s almost completely human now, with the exception of her bronze wings.
I remember the story Nova told Oros. Lie, I can hear Nova saying. Then why are my words failing me?
“We wish to get across the Caves of Night.”
“Why?” She leans closer to my face. This close, I can see myself in the dark pools of her eyes.
“To—to get to the Poison Garden,” I say. “We do not wish to harm you.”
“Harm us?” The aviana’s wings expand. “We are avianas, Daughters of El Cielo and Guardians of His Treasures. You cannot harm us. Nor are you the first mortal to come into these lands to attempt to reap its wealth and die on its paths.”
When I look at the other avianas, I don’t see guardians. I see hunger and weakness. If it weren’t for their leader, we wouldn’t have survived the saberskin attack.
“Please,” I say. “My name is Al—Alejandra Mortiz.”
“I know who you are,” she says. “And I know your tale is a lie. I can smell it on you the way I smell your fear and hear the rattle of the dead that trails at your feet. Now, tell me, Alejandra Mortiz. Why are you here?”
Footsteps echo through the cave, but the aviana still waits for my answer. The guards behind us flaps their wings as a girl pushes past them and onto the dais.
I feel cold from head to feet. It can’t be her.
“Madra,” she says, putting a hand on the aviana’s shoulder.
Madra, the leader of the avianas, turns around and opens her arms to let her wings open to their full span.
“I told you to stay in your nest,” Madra hisses.
It can’t be her. It’s a spell. A mirage. She twists hers hands, freshly painted in henna, and smiles nervously. I want to run to her, but find I can’t move. She gets past Madra’s wings and throws her arms around me. The air escapes my lungs, and as my thoughts spin, I find it hard to breathe.
Rishi.
And she’s got wings.
18
On the wings of hope I fly!
—Rezo de El Cielo, Deo of all the Skies
“It’s really you!” I hold Rishi so tight, she grunts and asks for air. I have so many questions I don’t even know how to start. I step back and hold her face gently. Her nose isn’t swollen anymore, and the bruise around her eye is covered by makeup. “I can’t believe it.”
“Rishi,” Madra says, more like a scolding mother. “You were to wait until I questioned the intruders.”
Rishi lets go of me and turns to the aviana. Rishi’s in a long, lace black dress, tattered all along the bottom, and her purple boots. Then there’s the small matter of her wings. I reach out and touch them. They’re long and black and soft. And totally fake. I can see where the elastic loops are for the arms, but her long, black hair covers that.
“I told you, Madra. She’s not an intruder. She’s the one I was telling you about. The girl I was looking for.” Rishi talks to the bird as if they’re longtime friends.
Then again, Rishi does have a way of taking strangers and making them feel like they’ve known each other for years. She did the same thing to me on the first day of freshman year when she found me crying in the girls’ bathroom. I’d gotten myself lost and then found the nearest hiding place. She walked me to class and then showed up afterward to help me find the next one. Now she’s here, and even though I know it isn’t safe for her, a part of me thanks the Deos she is.
“What about the man?” Madra asks.
Rishi shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe if we back off a little, Alex can fill us in on the rest.”
“Us?” I ask. “Rishi, how did you get here?”
She hooks her arm around my shoulder. “Same way you did.”
The ruffle of feathers interrupts her, followed by the heavy thud of an aviana falling forward. She tries to push herself up but her body shivers.
Madra runs to the guard and examines her face. “Jesla? What is it?”
All over the cave, the bird women flap their wings and hoot and caw for their fallen sister.
Rishi holds on to my hand, and I squeeze. A sense of familiarity and comfort washes over me.
“Madra,” two more avianas whimper before falling to the ground.
Madra lifts her face to the dark endlessness of the caves. Her mouth shifts into the golden beak of a hawk. Her cry is loud and full of pain.
Now’s my chance to take Rishi and get out of here. But then, what about Nova? How will we find him? How will we get out?
Madra sweeps the first aviana that fell, the one she called Jesla, into her arms. She gives instructions to take the others into the caves below.