“La Reina?”
You passed through it before you arrived here. It is la ciudad of truth.
I nodded. “We were tested.”
No. They put their head down, pawed at the ground. The truth is never a test. It is only the truth.
“Then why? Why show us all that? Why make us go through it?” I couldn’t hide the anger in my voice. “What if the others had rejected me like my own aldea did? The truth could have harmed me!”
The lead guardian gazed into my eyes and would not break contact. You have a journey ahead of you.
I laughed at that, and I didn’t even care that the others were staring at me, wide-eyed. What must that have looked like, Solís? To see me speaking to a guardian, laughing at them like that?
“You must be mistaken,” I said. “I’ve already been on a journey. We’re almost done.”
It was as though they didn’t even hear what I said. We lost Carlito, but we found something else. We have taken care of it, but there is a last piece. You and the other—the one from Solado—you must play your part.
Those words could have been spoken to me by Tía Inez. Mamá. Papá. Any person in Empalme. It was what I had done my entire life: play my part.
I, the obedient, faithful daughter, la cuentista de Empalme, had done everything that was asked of me.
No. I was done playing that part. So how could they ask this of me?
“I am going to Solado to help Emilia,” I said. “And to find Si- mone. That’s all.”
There was silence once more, and someone shifted nearby. Gabriela and Pablo approached us.
This was their guardian. I could see the reverence on their faces.
“Amato,” Pablo said, and they smiled wide, joyful. “It is good to see you again.”
Amato bowed to them, brought their head close to the ground, then looked back to me. Eres cuentista, Amato said.
“I am.”
Then you will be needed.
I considered them. The other guardians sat behind Amato, all with their gaze to the ground, unmoving. But then they each brought up their head, their yellow eyes piercing me.
We know what you are trying to do, Amato said.
“Are you going to stop me?”
No. The guardian licked a paw. This will be the last thing we ask of you.
One more.
It was always one more thing, wasn’t it?
My stomach rumbled, both from hunger and from the stories rousing from their slumber.
But … I could take one more, couldn’t I?
One more, and then it would be over.
Forever.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “Just this one, and that’s it.”
We accept, Amato said, and then the guardian bowed to me. Gracias, cuentista. We will keep you safe as you journey to Solado.
I nodded and twisted to face Emilia. “They’re all coming with us,” I explained. “To protect us as we enter Solado.”
“That makes me feel better,” she said, “but what’s going on?”
I addressed Gabriela and Pablo. “They haven’t found Carlito, but apparently, everything has to do with Solado.”
“Then we should get going,” said Emilia before the others could speak. “If I’ve learned anything from you, then we want to be far along the trail before Solís is directly above us.”
I looked to Rosalinda for confirmation, but she was frowning at me. “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t risk it anymore. This is so much harder than I thought it would be, and…” She sighed. “… we can’t. We’re staying.”
“Staying?” said Emilia. “Here?”
“I already talked to Felipe about it,” she said. “We have been trying to find a home for weeks now.”
“I’m tired,” said Felipe, and his face drooped with sadness. “I don’t want to leave you, but…” He reached out, and Pablo was suddenly at his side, holding his outstretched hand. “… I made a friend last night. I think I want to stay.”
“Rosalinda…,” I said, and the urge to convince her to come with us, to tell her that we could figure something out, it all died once I saw that she’d made up her mind. Felipe moved to her side and held her tight, and in his face, I saw Raúl.
“They need someone,” Rosalinda said. “They’ve survived this long on their own, but these children need help. We can build something here, Xochitl. Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”
“I have to keep going,” I said. “A little bit more.”
“You’re always welcome here,” she said. She hesitated. “And I understand why you did what you did, Xochitl. I think you need to hear that.”
She truly wasn’t leaving.
And I had to accept it.
I hugged Rosalinda, then Felipe, and I was surprised by the well of emotions I had for them. How long had I known them? Two days at best? And yet I was sad to leave, and that sadness found companions within me: Lito. Omar. Emilia. Their stories were still eager for someone to join them, to understand them. Eliazar’s spoke loudest to me, and the image of him climbing the hill from his home, refusing to look back, to see Gracia’s body behind him on the beach, filled my mind. I shook it off, disturbed at how easy it was to recall what others had lived through. Their memories were still more like my own.
I knew it was not a good thing; I would not mention it to anyone.
We packed quickly. Quietly. Refilled our water bags and canteens. We said our goodbyes to those children who were awake, and they waved at us as we walked north. I looked back at Rosalinda and Felipe, the ones who had chosen to stay behind, and there was an anticipation on their faces, as if they expected me to change my mind, to rush back to them and stay.
I kept walking.
Emilia and I walked beyond La Reina Nueva, into a morning that was warming up, into a future that was unknown.
The guardians followed us.
They did not speak to me.
A spike of pain tore into my abdomen, sharper than ever before. I pushed it and the stories back down.
What
