In Vereluna, the very air can bite or burn.

Dreams cling, refusing to be washed away.

Answers lie in wait.

How far will the brave dig?

Ariel ran. The icy air stabbed her lungs; laughter froze the trees behind her. A hiss, that familiar hiss, filled her head. Sharp, guttural, and poisonous. Glass eyes caught her. Fire-laced fangs sneered. Its maw reeked of brimstone.

“Cuetz—” “Go! Just Go!” a voice boomed.

She crashed into a clearing, doubled over. Heartbeat hammered, bruising her ribs. A snarl ripped at her back. Amber eyes burned through the dark. Ravenous and close. She tried to run, but something caught her, squeezed her tight. Her limbs couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

Darkness enveloped her.

She screamed.

—and jolted awake.

Her heart felt frozen. A sick twist in her stomach. The dawn’s light burned through the window. Her head pounded, pain still throbbing from last night.

Ariel pressed her palms to her forehead. She reached for a shirt but stopped. For no good reason, her hands trembled.

Get a grip. Just a dream. Right?

She slapped water over her face and leaned into the mirror. Her reflection was a stranger—skin pallid gray, eyes rimmed red, purple crescents beneath.

The refrigerator hummed. Cold air bit her wrists. Beneath it, something else. Sulfur. Thin. Familiar. No smoke curled from the coils. No flame flickered.

Nothing.

Her hands trembled again.

Nothing felt right. Not the kettle that screamed from the stove. Not the spoon clinking hollowly in her coffee. Even the bones that held the cup felt like strangers.

At the table, she sat amidst the chaos of her notes. Half-readable scribbles scattered throughout, each one a failed attempt to explain the events since the forest incident. The obsidian shard glinted in the center. Once covered in red ooze, it was now inexplicably clean.

Her growing questions were overshadowed by last night’s lingering headache.

She rummaged through papers, searching for patterns. The forest, the fog, the flashes of cold that turned into burning heat. Over and over, the memory of Maya’s presence appeared. Half-lost inside a word she couldn’t finish.

“Cuetz—” she muttered.

What am I missing? Why does everything feel off?

The alarm clock shrilled. She winced, pulse skipping. She smashed it silent and eyed her schedule. It was time for work. She didn’t bother changing; this mattered more.

All of her notes came back to Maya.

Maya knows something. She must. I have to find her.

***

Ariel wandered the streets of Vereluna.

She checked Café de Lago, the old tree, the cacti patch, all the winding roads she remembered from Maya’s stories. Each stop, no clues. No Maya.

Nothing besides the rippling heat off the streets, and her own sweat pouring down her temples.

Every few blocks, the air shifted. One moment, sweat and blistering humidity, the next an icy draft that sent goosebumps down her back. Her headache thundered with each step.

People answered her questions with shrugs or odd looks. “Haven’t seen her,” “never heard of her,” and best yet, the chauvinistic— “HA! Nahua women are your size. Never met one as tall as me.”

Even Tina and Bob crossed her path several times, swapping jokes and smiles that drummed out Ariel’s frustration. If only answers came that easily.

The mid-morning sun turned the city into an oven. Ariel ducked into a flower shop for shelter. Cool, damp air washed over her. Petals burst with vivid color in every hue. Their scent curled into every corner.

“Just a sec,” called a woman from the back.

A moment later, she stepped up to the counter: copper skin, curly hair cropped to her shoulders. Nahua, by the looks of her. Maybe she’d know something.

“How can I help you?” the woman said.

Ariel tried to smile. “Just needed a break. It’s brutal outside.”

The woman laughed. “That’s Vereluna for you. Means it’s going to rain soon. You’ll get used to it after a while.”

She tossed a water bottle into Ariel’s hands.

Ariel drank, half out of thirst, half to avoid conversation. The first swallow went down rough. Her headache didn’t relent. The woman’s face creased with concern.

“Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ariel said dismissively. She forced another smile. “Actually…maybe you can help. I’m looking for someone.”

“Friend of yours?”

Ariel nodded. “Tall. Nahua. Long, dark hair. Athletic. Name’s Maya.”

The woman hesitated, her eyes flicking as if weighing a secret.

“She sounds familiar. Try the community center on the north side of town. Someone might know her there.”

Relief broke through Ariel’s headache. “Thank you—”

“Cristina. Anytime.”

Cristina’s eyes trailed Ariel as she exited. “Try to stay cool!”

***

The community center wasn’t far or hard to find, but the heat and Ariel’s hammering headache made it seem that way. Inside, the air buzzed with ceiling fans and quiet conversation.

Tables were scattered with crafts. Adults and children sat immersed in their work—peaceful and insulated from the town’s tension—weaving, painting, sharing stories.

 Ariel made her way to the front, catching a staff member amid the tables.

“I’m looking for Maya. She works or volunteers here. Tall, long dark hair.”

The staffer brightened, then shook their head. “She’s not in today. If you’re here for her weaving class, try the weekend. She’s on the trails with the forest custodians all week.”

“Always?” Ariel pressed.

“Yeah. I swear she lives out there,” the staffer replied. “She takes her job seriously. Honestly, I wished she didn’t. It makes the other custodians lazy.”

“Thank you,” Ariel said, making a mental note.

“You’re free to look around.” The staffer smiled, gesturing toward a maze of various crafts. “Have a good day,” then vanished into the crowd.

Ariel glimpsed all the handmade works. A small shop sat in an alcove. Beads, blankets, paintings, fabrics, and clay work occupied every available space. Her fingers traced the beads of the finished bracelets.

Maya would wear something like this.

She let herself imagine, just for a second, what it would be like to belong to this. To sit at a table, lost in craft and laughter. The fantasy broke as her headache surged.

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Ariel snapped around.

A tall figure covered in shadow, shoulders broad, hat slung low.

MJ.

“Heard you were looking for Maya.” MJ’s presence froze Ariel’s nerves.

“How did you—?”

“Word travels, rock bird. Why are you dead set on stalking my cousin?”

“I’m not stalking her! I just need to—”

“What you need is to back off.” MJ’s glare burned hotter than the afternoon sun.

“Keep poking around for Maya, and you’ll just make life hell for both of you. She’s got enough on her shoulders and doesn’t need rumors or outsiders. You’re a jinx. That curiosity you have is going to get her killed.”

Ariel tried to argue, but the words caught in her throat. MJ’s presence pressed against her, crushing her, like standing inside a black hole.

MJ’s voice grew darker. “I’ve seen what expectations do to people. Maya’s already carrying more than she should. You want to dig your own grave for the truth, that’s your choice, but I will not let Maya get dragged down with you.”

She turned, walking away. “Stay far and away from her, or you’ll wish you had.”

Then MJ was gone.

The air had gone slack in her absence. Ariel braced against a wall, her breathing ragged.

What just happened? Why does it always feel like I’m missing something?

The sun sank below the streets.

Ariel had reached the cacti patch. Her steps landed in the same impressions she’d left before. The same cracks. The same dust. Nothing different, but she didn’t stop.

Then—

Pain hammered her skull. Smoke curled on her tongue. She collapsed to one knee, clasping her head. Silence fell—wind, birds, motion gone.

A hiss split the quiet. Her chest seized. The same hiss from her nightmare.

Silence returned. No motion or shadows in sight. Her mind spun.

Memory? Or was something watching, waiting?

Ariel looked up, breath trapped in her chest.

She could feel it in the trees.

The stillness shifted.

Wrong—

But familiar.