After our Italian meals I expected all future food to be a disappointment. I couldn’t have been more wrong. A feast of sopas, pa-nuchos, and delicately seasoned, unbelievably fresh fish was spread before us. Every bite was heaven. I wanted to gorge myself on the food—which was unlike anything I’d ever tasted—but my mind quickly fixed on the battle ahead. Inez, seated at the head of the table, spoke to us as we ate.

“Once you’ve finished, we’ll head out,” she said. “Gabriel is making preparations now.”

“What kind of resistance are we expecting?” I asked. “More Guardians?”

“There are Guardians here,” Miguel said. “Yaguares.”

“Yaguares?” Nev asked. “You mean like panthers?”

Inez nodded. Ren and Nev exchanged a glance.

“I was kind of hoping for more bears,” Nev said. “Cats are gonna suck.”

“We’re fighting cats?” Mason’s face squished up. “Yuck. They taste terrible.”

“You ate a cat?” Shay asked. My stomach twisted. I could imagine little more disgusting than cat meat.

“Not ate,” Mason said. “Bit . . . and killed.”

We all stared at him.

“Hey—” He held his hands up defensively. “It attacked me. Crazy feline.”

“If all goes well, you will not face las sombras,” Inez said. “Our plan is to avoid them. It is never easy to fight in the jungle, and it is where las sombras are deadliest.”

“Las sombras favor the trees,” Miguel said. “They drop from above.”

“How many?” Ren asked.

“Like the bears, they prefer solitude,” he replied. “But still, they are deadly.”

“So what do we do?” I asked. “Same as Tordis? You lure the kitties away while we head into the cave?”

Miguel shook his head. “It is no cave. Es un cenoté.”

“Oh, man.” Shay shuddered. “Seriously?”

Miguel nodded.

“What’s a si-note-ay?” Mason fumbled with the word.

Shay had gone slightly green. “It’s where the Mayans made sacrifices to their gods—deep sinkholes that run for miles beneath the surface. Sometimes they lead into networks of underwater caves. They’re all over this region, right?”

“Sí.” Miguel’s face was grim.

“The Spanish called them sagrados,” Silas said. “Wells of sacrifice.”

“Wells of sacrifice?” Sabine’s eyes widened.

“They threw people in,” Shay said.

“And Eydis is inside one of these sacrifice wells?” I asked.

“Yes,” Silas said.

“Does that mean we have to climb down into a sinkhole?” Sabine asked. “’Cause that doesn’t sound like fun.”

“Las sombras watch from the branches,” Miguel said. “We would not have time to rappel into the cave before they attacked.”

“What about that thingy Adne can do?” Mason asked. “Can’t she open a portal down inside the cave? Like in Eden?”

“Sorry. No can do.” Adne shook her head. “We don’t have any idea what’s down there. We’d be in serious trouble if I ended up accidentally opening a portal underwater. Or on the wrong side of a sheer drop. We don’t have any descriptions to go on. In Eden, I had Ansel’s experience working for me. I used his story to open the door.”

“Then what’s the plan?” Shay asked.

“Gabriel found another entrance,” Ethan said, though he didn’t look too happy about it.

Inez’s mouth had an equally grim set. “He’s been scouting it for the past three days. It is our best option.”

“Another entrance?” Mason asked. “But won’t the panthers be guarding that one too?”

“No,” Miguel replied, meeting Ethan’s stony gaze.

“They won’t?” Shay frowned.

“No.” Connor rolled his shoulders back. “Because cats hate water.”

My skin prickled at Connor’s words. Wolves didn’t exactly hate water, but we weren’t dolphins either.

He winked at me. “That’s right, sweetheart. We’re all going for a nice, long swim.”

“How long?” Shay asked.

“We’re going in at low tide,” Ethan said. “Hopefully we won’t need the scuba gear for long, but you’re all getting a crash course in it. Just in case.”

“Awesome.” Shay grinned. The rest of the wolves glared at him. “What?” He glanced around the pack, giving us wide, too-innocent eyes. “I like trying new things.”

“Chosen One shows an aptitude for adventure and risk taking,” Silas murmured as he wrote. He hadn’t touched a thing on his plate.

“Can’t you stay here?” Connor asked him. “You can’t write underwater.”

Silas drew himself up. “I shall commit each event to memory and transfer it to paper upon our return.”

“Of course you will,” Connor said, pushing himself away from the table. He looked at Inez. “We’re not swimming for at least an hour, right? ’Cause I don’t want to get a cramp.”

THIRTEEN

GABRIEL, IT TURNED OUT, had been the man working in the boat. The boat we were all now boarding. He smiled, despite having to coax six reluctant wolves off dry land. With a mess of sun-streaked hair, Gabriel looked more like a surf god than a Searcher. From the way he tossed around scuba gear—tanks, regulators, buoyancy vests, lead weights, masks, fins, wet suits, and flashlights—with efficient care, I guessed that he’d been assigned the task of instructing us in the ways of water too.

As I scrambled toward a seat, the boat lurched over a wave and I wondered if eating all those sopas had been such a great idea after all.

The outboard gurgled to life and Miguel navigated us away from the docks while Inez waved her farewell.

“The Eydis Strikers, except Miguel, are keeping an eye on the cenoté topside,” Gabriel shouted over the roar of the outboard engine. He watched us, his grin widening as we flopped around the floor of the boat like fish out of water, struggling into our wet suits.

“I thought we weren’t attacking the Guardians,” Shay said.