Page 130 of Espíritu

No podemos salir …

Faces broke the surface—half familiar, hollow-eyed—then slid under again, leaving ripples that shivered under the weak light.

The floor turned slick and pulsing, like he was walking on muscle and bone. The walls throbbed. He couldn’t catch his breath.

A low growl rumbled through the water. Hot breath touched the back of his neck.

Julian turned.

Bahlam, the jaguar god, reared up behind him, black fur slick, golden eyes burning. A dagger hung from his jaws, the cursed blade Angel had used, dripping something that hissed when it hit the water.

Those eyes pinned him. Not Luca. Him.

A voice—inside the walls, inside the water, inside his ribs—spoke like a promise dragged over teeth:

Me lo robaron.

Devuélveme lo que me pertenece.

Julian stumbled backward, heart clawing up his throat.

“Cuidado, Julian…”

Catriz stepped out of the shadow like a figure under rippling glass, his face shifting, his voice layered—high, low, all at once.

“Cuidado…” he said again. “Listen. They’re already here.”

The floor gave way. Julian fell—clean through—the world flipping to black. Xibalba swallowed him whole.

The ground pulsed under his hands like stretched skin. From below, a pale face rose—Luca’s—eyes wide and terrible, mouth working soundlessly as clawed fingers hooked his shoulder and tugged.

Julian lunged but nothing in his body answered. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

Bahlam’s roar shook the dark, and the world shattered into light and shadow and—

Julian shot up, gasping, drenched in cold sweat.

The room was wrong. Too still. Too quiet. The kind of silence that meant something was listening.

He blinked into the dark—and saw him.

Luca.

Standing in the middle of the room. Unmoving. Silent. Watching.

“Luca?” Julian’s voice cracked.

His friend didn’t respond. He just stood there, half lit by the moon, eyes reflecting flat and dull.

“What are you doing?” Julian asked, pushing himself upright.

“Watching,” Luca said.

The word was empty. Memorized, not spoken.

Julian’s skin prickled. “Watching what?”

Nothing. No blink. No breath he could hear.