Though I’m careful to keep my concerns to myself. No use worrying my friends when I’m merely speculating without any proof.
“So normally I would see Opossum down here?” Lita twirls a long chunk of hair around a mitten-covered finger.
I nod, but the truth is, I’m so distracted with trying to determine which way to go, the question barely registers.
“So, if Opossum were here, I could actually meet him and he wouldn’t even try to bite me?” she asks, as though she can hardly imagine such a thing.
“Yes, Lita. You and your red-eyed Opossum would frolic through the forest just like they do in Disney movies.” Xotichl laughs.
“That is not at all charming.” Lita frowns. “I mean, why can’t I have a cuter spirit animal? Something adorable and cuddly, like a bunny? Or even something cool, like a fox?” Then realizing what she just said, she looks around and in a raised voice says, “Just kidding! No offense! Love you, Opossum!”
I move ahead of my friends. Hoping to hide my confusion about which direction to take when nothing appears as I left it. I cup my hand to my brow and glance all around, as Xotichl and Lita chatter behind me in a way so distracting I’m just about to say something I’ll no doubt live to regret, when I force myself to choke back the words and see the situation from their point of view.
Everyone has their own way of handling stress. Some go inward, like me. Some reach outward, like them. And despite the dire circumstances we face, they must feel pretty excited to transcend the known world for one that most people don’t even realize exists. It’s the enormity of the task that’s making me grumpy, not them. Not to mention how the abundance of snow and cold is starting to grate.
Did I really cause all of this? Was my dying wish fulfilled to a ridiculous degree?
“Even though the nonstop snow-a-thon is kind of annoying, it does offer a sort of stark, quiet beauty, doesn’t it?” Xotichl’s voice drifts from behind me, and it’s enough to knock me right out of my thoughts.
Lita and I whirl toward her, our voices overlapping as we cry, “Xotichl—can you see it?”
Her beautiful heart-shaped face lifts into a grin.
“For real?” Lita stands wide-eyed before her.
“Don’t get too excited.” Xotichl laughs, pushing Lita lightly on the arm, until she’s moving again. “I can’t see it in the same way you can. But I can make out all of the lines and curves and shapes and shadows in a way I’ve never been able to before. Usually all I can see are the colorful energy patterns that people and objects emit. But this—well, this is something else entirely.”
“Good to know this place has managed to hang onto its magick,” I say, exchanging a look of astonishment with Lita as I trudge a few steps ahead, and Lita begins to grill Xotichl. Insisting she describe everything she sees in great detail.
When I stop to ge
t my bearings, Lita comes up alongside me and says, “I hope you’re not upset because we’re talking so much when we should be looking for Dace.” Her large brown eyes droop at the sides. “It’s just—it’s so exciting with Xotichl being able to see and all…”
I shake my head and look all around.
“Then what is it?” she asks. “Are we here?”
I clamp my lips together and swallow a sigh. Not wanting my friends to know just how lost we really are.
“Do we even know where here is?” She shoots me a hopeful look.
“We’re headed for the last place I saw him—the Enchanted Spring.”
“And what do we do when we get there?” Xotichl asks.
Trying to drum up more confidence than I feel, I turn to them, and say, “I’m hoping one of us will be able to intuit something from the energy left over from the event.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Lita wears a skeptical look.
“Everything is energy,” Xotichl says. “Paloma taught me that, but you’ll also learn it in science class. And energy is eternal. It can never be destroyed.”
“But it can be transformed.” I look at them. “That’s how I made it snow. Simple alchemy—the transference of energy.” I start walking again, veering slightly to the left and hoping it works.
“Simple, huh?” Lita trudges behind me. “Maybe for you guys, but not for someone like me.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Xotichl says. “It’s not as hard as it seems, you just have to grasp the concept. Anyway, since energy never dies, theoretically speaking, the same should hold true for the energy of events.”
“And Paloma taught you this?”