The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (21 page)

As I parted my lips to answer, Lucas shifted his gaze to me in a calculating sort of way, and suddenly I couldn’t remember what I was going to
say.

“I am, umm . . . can Dylan really get rid of my blackouts?” I
asked.

Andrés lifted his chin as I sipped the froth. “Lucas, did you have a chance to tell Zara what’s going
on?”

Lucas tilted his head and shrugged, looking offended. “
Por supuesto
, Papa.” He turned to me with more liveliness in his face than I had seen all day. “Didn’t
I?”

“Yes, yes, he did, Mr. Castillo,” I stuttered. I wiped my mouth. For some reason, I felt I should be saying
Your
Highness
or
Your Majesty
.

“Please, call me Andrés. And I am curious: what do you think about all of this?” His thick eyebrows furrowed. I froze at his blunt question, confused.

“What do I think about
you?”

Andrés’s laugh was casually powerful. The dangling crystals on the light overhead shook. “No. What do you think about you, the fifty-second, the prophecy, the training?”

I gulped, not really finding the drink pleasant anymore. “It’s a lot to take
in.”

“And what do you think about
us?”

I was beginning to see similarities between Andrés and his son. Both had sharp-cut jawlines masked by a grayness I knew would be darker by evening, and both were exceptionally forward. But the attention of all three flawless beings, intent on my words, still made me feel like a lab
rat.

“I think you guys are amazing.” I let out an awkward chuckle and shook my head, swiping hair behind my ear. “I don’t know how you guys do it. How you can watch people being
taken.”

Andrés scratched his chin and turned to Valentina with a disapproving grin.
Did I say something
wrong?

“Zara, honey, it’s never easy. How do I explain?” Valentina pondered for a slight second. “Imagine our world held at ransom. If we didn’t allow all fifty-two sacrifices to be taken, the Underworld would come and take more. And the end result of
that
would be
tragic.”

I nodded, still processing.

She lowered her chin, squinting as she deciphered my churning emotions. “I mean a war, Zara, a war I’m afraid we haven’t got the power to fight. Do you understand?”

My eyes widened as I fought a sudden tide of tears. Lucas reached for my hand and squeezed. I didn’t want to look at him because I knew it would make me cry, but I appreciated his gesture.

“Mama,
por favor.
You’re scaring her . . . 
apurate
 . . . tell her the rest,” he urged angrily.

“What,
hijo
? I’m just making sure she understands what’s going on. Now, Zara, I didn’t mean that we’re going to watch you be taken, because it’s obvious that we’re not. You are a precious thing to us,” she said as her bold eyes dissected
me.

I
gulped.

“See, you are not just the fifty-second sacrifice. You, my dear, are without a doubt the girl in the prophecy. And with that, we are all confused. We have been waiting for you for a long time.” She took a sip of hot chocolate with her lips gently pressed together, frowned once, then spoke. “You’re the gambling chip that changes our game. But all chips are at
risk.”

I felt a surge of regret as she paused and watched me, thinking further.

“However, if what Tita says is true, than we could rid ourselves of the sacrificial ceremony forever,” she
said.

“How?”

Niya and Malik walked in. It was unsettling having wild cats roaming around without chains, and yet strange that they heeled at Valentina’s
side.

“That’s the problem,” she said. “We don’t know yet. We just need to focus on one thing right now, and that’s keeping you alive until Winter Solstice. Saving a sacrifice is a first for us. You understand that, right?”

Though I appreciated what she said, pressure tightened my lungs. “Yes,” I managed.

“And as such, I am afraid this change brings the chance of retaliation. That being the case, you mustn’t be left alone until this situation is settled.”

She paused another moment and looked to her son, her finger bobbing back and forth between Lucas and I. We glanced at one another, confused. His hostility, so clearly visible, hurt me, and I squirmed in my
seat.

“I’m aware of your relationship,” Valentina said, “but Andrés and I decided that it would be best if Lucas stayed with us at night and someone else took the night’s watch. Until we can understand the force that connects you two a little more, we need to be careful to not take anything too lightly.”

“All right,” Lucas agreed rather too quickly. I wanted to kick him underneath the table for being such a jerk. Instead I sat up straighter and pressed my hands together.

“That’s probably a good plan,” I agreed, a little relieved I didn’t have to see Lucas twenty-four seven. His moods were exhausting. “Valentina?”

“Yes?”

“This connection that Lucas and I have . . . is it the one talked about in the prophecy?”

“Yes.”

Lucas straightened up, his eyes boring into me. I pretended not to notice, even though amazing tingles flooded my
body.

“Well, haven’t you ever thought about the consequence of that force . . . of me?” I wondered.

Valentina froze. “Of course. It scares me to death. But how do you feel when you are with
Lucas?”

The balloon in my chest that had been popped by Lucas’s uncanny behavior was inflating again with giddiness. Lucas waited wide-eyed for my answer. This was on another level than the ordinary
Do you have a crush on my son?
question.

“Like there is an invisible force that wants to push me to him, like he’s the one I chose. I can’t explain it,” I responded. I felt embarrassed, but I hoped it would comfort Valentina’s worries about the prophecy. Lucas just looked angry—almost disgusted—and the tingling had started to sting
badly.

Andrés moved from his statue’s pose. “But you have not been faced with the Underworld yet. They are very powerful and very convincing. You may wince now, but it may be that you have a connection with the Underworld like the one you have with Lucas. It could be just as strong,” he
warned.

My stomach turned at the inconceivable thought. I felt the immortal royal eyes on me and wondered whether I was actually turning
green.

“That will never happen,” Lucas interrupted, partly to comfort me. But partly he looked . . . jealous?

“We hope not,” Andrés said. He reached for my free hand. His nails were polished black, but his warm smile was the complete opposite of Goth. “Zara, we aren’t going to let anything happen to you. We promise. We’ve never seen Lucas this happy, and we have lived long together.”

Lucas, happy? That has to be a joke. Hostile, yes. Angry, yes. Moping, sure, but not
happy!

Lucas stiffened and stood, coughing under his breath. “We’d better get started.”

I shuddered when he placed his hand on my back. I jumped to my feet so that I could brush his hand
away.

“By the way, Tita will be here tonight. She’ll be attending school with you as a precaution,” Valentina
noted.

“Tita?”

“Very well,” Lucas said, stretching his hand over my back again to push me gently out of the kitchen before Valentina could
answer.

I shrugged Lucas’s hand away once we turned the corner. “Quit touching
me.”

Lucas nodded. I noticed his jaw muscles tighten as we descended to the first floor, through another door, and down another flight. Beyond a corner landing, a room opened before us. I placed my hand on the wall to steady myself.
This isn’t a room. It’s a training facility.

“Just a few obstacles?” I joked sourly, staring at the corner pyramid. It reminded me of the one in my dream in miniature, with only ten steps, each the height of two normal stairs. There was a rope wall, metal trapeze bars and rings dangling from the ceiling, mats, weights—and racks of weaponry ranging from bows and arrows to spears and wicked-looking
knives.

Lucas walked ahead of me into the weird arena. I watched his back incredulously. I wanted to storm back up the stairs and call Bri to have her pick me
up.

“Zara, Lucas, you’re here. Finally,” Dylan said. He sounded
bored.

Lucas approached Dylan, his back blocking my view. Next thing I knew, Dylan threw his hands up and backed
away.

“Wow, brother. Relax.” Dylan chuckled as he turned to me. “Zara, you
ready?”

“What did Lucas say?” I asked, pretending Lucas wasn’t here as I approached
them.

Lucas spun around. His blue eyes were hard. “I said if he did anything questionable, I would stop it before he could finish
it.”

I shivered, wondering again what I’d gotten myself into. But I couldn’t let Lucas know that. I squared my shoulders and laid my jacket on the
floor.

“I’m ready, Dylan,” I
said.

Lucas looked shocked at my defiance. I smiled as Gabriella shooed him and his livid look to the
stairs.

“Ignore him,” I whispered to Dylan. “I don’t know what his problem
is.”

Dylan laughed harder and glanced at Lucas. “I like this girl,” he said. Then he turned to me, leaned in, and winked. “And he heard everything you just
said.”

I pivoted around, frightened at first, then embarrassed when I saw a smirk on that mad, fascinating
face.

“Let’s just get this over with, please,” I
said.

“Right.”

Dylan walked to the corner opposite the pyramid, where a cage woven of two-inch rope sat beneath a platform ten feet above the floor. A rope ladder hung from the platform. Above it, I realized, the dangling rings made a path across the room to another platform.

“If you want to live, you have to be more than what you are. Forge yourself into a weapon. Got it?” he
asked.

I
nodded.

He looked up to the platform above him, then back to me. “Your blackouts have a greater chance of occurring when your emotions are
high.”

“Why is
that?”

“Because it makes you vulnerable. A god can exert mental power very easily over someone who is swayed by strong emotion. So, we start by making you vulnerable. I want you to climb up to the top of the platform and swing across the rings to the other edge of the
room.”

“I’m not sure I can even do that,” I argued, staring at the rings ten feet above my head. I probably couldn’t reach the end even if I was fast. The room was too
long.

“Vulnerable,” he reminded
me.

I grunted and headed for the platform’s
ladder.

It looked a lot higher up once I was looking down on everyone’s heads. I placed a hand on a ring and waited. Dylan had his arms
folded.

“Waiting for you,” he
said.

Lucas was still there, just a body in the room, good for nothing, watching me too closely for someone who said he didn’t care. I stared angrily at him as my knuckles tightened around the metal. And then I
swung.

It was like I was in elementary school. I gripped each ring tightly and swung from one to the next. It was a breeze—until my skin started to burn underneath my fingers. The burn became a sting when I touched the metal. Then I started to sweat. It made my fingers slippery.

I stopped midway and looked at my feet. Ten feet felt much higher when my shoes were dangling aimlessly in the air. Dylan watched me with a grin. I tried to catch the next ring, but I had no more momentum. As I clung desperately to one ring with both hands, my head started to
pound.

“Ow!” I yelled, fingers slipping.

“Feel that?” Dylan said. “I am inching my way into your head. When I do this, it sends an abnormal rush of electrical impulses to your brain, until eventually your blood vessels dilate and the blood drains from your
brain.”

“Well, how do I stop it?” I
barked.

He circled underneath my body. “Focus. Concentration.”

“Ow!” Frost shrouded the left side of my
brain.

“Dylan!” Lucas yelled from
afar.

I looked for Lucas, but there were black flurries in the air, shifting in the same direction as my
irises.

“Zara, you must fight back. I want you to find the image I’m transmitting to your brain and crush it. If you don’t, you will black out,” Dylan
yelled.

My arms shook. I closed my eyes and focused on what I could see. There was nothing, only pitch-black behind my eyes. Sweat slimed the metal rings. I flung my eyes open, scared. “I can’t hang
on!”

“Destroy it!” Dylan ordered.

“I can’t!”

“Focus, Zara!” Lucas shouted.

“Zara, you can do this!” Gabriella
added.

“I can’t!”

The lights were going dim, and my head was getting colder while my body sweated streams.

“Do it, Zara!” Lucas ordered.

“But I can’t see anything!” I spat
back.

I could see Dylan, calm, looking straight up to me. “Zara, fight to see the picture I’m putting into your mind so that you can crush it,” he
said.

Pressure snatched my breath away, and then the lights went
out.

I awoke on the mat, with Lucas holding my feet up. The pounding, coldness, and dizziness were gone. It was as if I had never fainted.

“She’s awake,” Lucas
noted.

I pried my legs away from his hands. I couldn’t let him know he had upset me with his foolish words earlier. I avoided eye contact while I fixed my hair into a ponytail and cracked my knuckles.

“Again,” I said, and I climbed back up the
ladder.

This time, Dylan didn’t let me get as far. I was crossing the rings easily when a blunt prick of ice in my head indicated that Dylan was tampering with my mind. It progressed swiftly, and next thing I knew, I was in Lucas’s arms. He grinned. I rolled my
eyes.

“Again,” I said, jerking out of his embrace.

For hours Dylan and I repeated the same routine while Lucas sat back, watching blankly as I hammered myself, but always there when I fell. Each time I rolled out of his arms as fast as I could, wondering why he was doing
this.

Finally, when my palms were open blisters and my arms were jelly, I had my first vision before blacking out. I shrieked, and then I woke up in Lucas’s arms. It took me longer to get up this time. Even after I staggered to my feet, I found myself leaning on Lucas for support as the room
spun.