Chapter Text
Luz Noceda closed the car door, balancing a bag full of groceries from the local market in one hand while the other clumsily fiddled with the car key, eventually pressing the button and locking the door. She made her way up the dirt path toward her home, glancing up at the quickly-darkening sky. Gray clouds covered the setting sun and the foreboding signs of a storm brewed above.
Too encumbered to search for her keys in her pocket, she used her elbow to knock on the door.
“Vee!” she called out, hoping she could hear her. “I’m home, could you open up?”
While she waited, her eyes darted around the exterior of the house that had been her home for the last six years. Sometimes it still felt like a dream to be staring at the place that had changed her life all those years ago, and that now housed her adopted sister and herself. It had taken a lot of dedication, but they had finally been able to fix up the cabin that had led Luz to the wonderful world of the Boiling Isles when she was a teenager.
The plan to live there worked out for them for multiple reasons, not the least of which being that they’d be close to their mother, Camila. The Noceda matriarch was nothing if not protective of her children, even after said children had crossed the threshold into adulthood many years ago. Another, much less conspicuous reason for Luz settling into this place was its secretive location. Regular people would rarely, if ever, wander even close to their home.
This let them work on their top-secret project without alerting others to it. Luz glanced at the side of the house for a moment before the front door open, revealing her adoptive sister, Vee Noceda.
The woman had changed her appearance a lot throughout the years. It was definitely not because she was a shapeshifter and could do so at will, she told Luz all the time. For the past few months, she had sported brown hair with a few blue streaks falling over the left side of her caramel-colored face. Her eyes, much like they always had, were a bright honey color, almost resembling liquid gold when the light hit them just right. She currently wore a ponytail – with more blue streaks of hair tied in it – and a wristwatch on her left hand. The arm attached to that hand was covered in tattoos similar to the ones Luz herself had gotten shortly after finishing high school, flowers sprouting from her elbow and blossoming along her forearm.
“Luz!” the basilisk exclaimed with a smile, opening the door further to let the woman in. “I thought you weren’t coming back for dinner tonight.”
The Latina set down the two heavy bags by the door and turned to her sister. “What gave you that impression?” she asked.
“Mami said you had a date with Luke?” said Vee, though she ended the sentence like a question the moment Luz’s eyes bore into her.
They closed the door and moved to the modest living room. Attached to the small space was the kitchen, which boasted a small island where Vee had apparently been preparing snacks of some sort.
“It wasn’t a date,” said Luz firmly. “He just asked me to help him with some stuff at his place, and we finished up pretty early.”
“Stuff,” repeated the basilisk, unimpressed.
“Stuff,” Luz confirmed. She rolled her eyes at the smug look Vee was giving her and plopped down on the couch. She ran her hands down her face, letting out a tired sigh. She could feel the bags under her eyes but tried to play it cool as she glanced at the kitchen island. “Did you have a date, Vee?”
The woman chuckled. “No, mami invited me – us, I guess, now – for dinner tonight,” she explained. “She asked me to make masitas. They’re Alma’s favorites.”
Luz’s face lit up at the mention of the girl. Alma Salvatore-Castilla was a young 14-year-old girl Luz had the pleasure to meet almost eleven years prior. After the… incident, it had taken a while for her to fully get used to the idea of living full-time in the human realm. Her grades had plummeted and her step had lost some of its ‘pep’, as her mother had put it.
Alma had been a light in the darkness for Luz. The girl’s family had moved from Los Angeles to Gravesfield when she was barely over three years old, and her mother had gotten a job at the same veterinarian clinic Camila worked at. Due to their long hours and Alma’s father working abroad, Luz had been tasked with looking after the young girl after school. The two had taken to each other quite well and had developed a sibling-like relationship over the years. When Alma was twelve, her parents, Dante and Julia, had gotten divorced and subsequently been sent to work abroad, leaving the young girl to live with her grandparents. After her Abuelo Luis passed away, she was graciously taken in by Camila, at least until she finished summer school.
“Okay, I’ll help you out,” said Luz, getting up and taking a look at the ingredients scattered about the kitchenette. “We don’t want a fire burning down the place, right?”
Vee rolled her eyes. “I’m not that bad of a cook,” she protested, crossing her arms.
“Díselo a la mancha negra en la pared,” Luz teased, gesturing to a rather dark spot just above the oven.
“That was one time…” Vee grumbled. The human raised an eyebrow, which made Vee huff. “Fine, you set the oven temperature, I’ll knead the dough. Mami said to be there by eight, so hurry.”
The two worked in tandem for the better part of half an hour, joking around and talking about their respective days. A few times, one of them would skirt past the topic of their unfinished project sitting idly in the office by their room, but they easily steered clear of it for the day. It had been a while since any progress was made, and it may stay that way for some more time.
Eventually, at ten to eight, the two women set their finished pastries – with no oven mishaps this time – in a tray and set out down the path toward their mother’s house. The dark clouds had dissipated somewhat, revealing the waning moon shining brightly in the sky. Five minutes later, they arrived and Luz knocked on the door.
It opened to reveal Camila Noceda, still clad in her vet scrubs from a long day and wearing a tired, but beaming smile. With the speed and strength of a woman barely scratching fifty, Camila swooped up and enveloped both her daughters into a fierce hug that almost knocked the air out of Luz’s lungs.
“How are you, my babies?” she said as they broke apart, letting them through and closing the door behind them.
“Mom, I’m twenty-eight years old,” said Luz, chuckling when her mother rolled her eyes.
“You’ll always be my baby, Luz,” the woman said, wagging a finger at her. Then, she turned to her other daughter. “What about you, Vee? How’s the shop going?”
Luz and Vee had purchased, with some financial help from Luz’s grandparents, a coffee shop in the town center of Gravesfield a few years back. They had named it ‘The Owl Lounge’. It had felt like the right thing to do, and now, the two of them managed it themselves – with the occasional help of Alma – every day of the week except Sundays.
“Shop is going good,” said Vee, making her way through the space to the dining table. She took a seat, glancing around to the closed door that led to the kitchen, through which music was softly pouring in. “We’ve been thinking of maybe opening it up for a drive-through next semester.”
“That sounds lovely, dear,” said Camila. “Oh, and Alma was helping me with some tacos for dinner, mija. She’s been bursting to see you guys all day.”
“She saw us a couple days ago,” said Luz, blinking.
“She looks up to you, Luz,” Camila whispered, taking her daughter’s hand. “Any time apart will feel like an eternity to her.”
Luz shivered at the thought. She had known for a while that she was more to Alma than simply an older sister who occasionally let her have free coffee at the shop, but no words of encouragement from her mother could quell the feeling that she wasn’t cut out to be a role model.
Her excitable mind brought her train of thought through a loop that ended up on a certain gray-haired witch with golden eyes. Sometimes – who was she kidding? All the time – she wished she could see Eda once more. To embrace her and have the woman tell her it would all be okay. It was a strange feeling; yearning for the unreachable with such passion that your mind could barely comprehend the void separating the two points. More often than not, the longing felt like a physical pain in her chest, constricting her broken heart.
She got dangerously close to her daydream state, as Vee liked to call it, before shaking her head and clearing her throat. It would not do to dwell on the past when the present held such fortune and opportunity for her.
“Wow, I’m starving,” she said by way of response, clapping her hands. She raised her voice so as to be heard from the kitchen. “And where is our world-class chef in our time of need?”
On the other side, they heard a pan clatter, then silence. Then, the door burst open and a blur of black and red crashed into Luz, leaving her without air for the second time that night.
“Luz!” the young girl exclaimed, her skinny arms wrapping around the woman’s midsection tightly. Luz returned the gesture.
“Hey there, kiddo,” she said, ruffling Alma’s dark brown hair. They broke apart and Luz kneeled to match her height.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” said the girl, pushing up her glasses on her face. “Camila said you had… a date.”
Once again, Luz rolled her eyes and groaned. “It was not a date,” she reiterated. “I don’t have time for dates, anyway.” She looked away, unable to meet her mother’s eyes that were boring into the side of her head.
The silence that followed was tense and awkward, yet it did not deter Vee, who chuckled lightly and patted Luz on the shoulder. Alma snapped out of her trance and hugged the other woman, then led the three Nocedas to the table, which she had previously set up. They all took a seat, Camila at the head while Vee and Luz sat opposite each other. The girl rummaged in a cabinet by the kitchen for a few seconds before coming up with a spare plate and glass and setting it down in front of Luz. She then took her place beside the Latina, smiling up at her.
They began their meal, each of them taking a tortilla and helping themselves to various fillings Alma and Camila had prepared. By her second helping, Luz turned to Alma.
“So, Alma,” she said through a mouthful, swallowing when she caught a glimpse of Camila’s stern face. “How’s summer school going?”
“It’s fun,” the girl said with a beaming smile. “I’m top of my class in Spanish.”
“Not much of a brag, considering,” snickered Luz, glancing at the other two women, both of whom spoke fluent Spanish. “Why didn’t you take… I dunno, French or something?”
“Because French is boring,” said Alma, rolling her eyes. “Y con español tengo créditos asegurados.”
“Easy credits are what got me through high school,” piped in Vee, earning a sly look from Camila.
The matriarch glanced at her eldest daughter. “So, Luz,” she said, gaining her attention. “How’s… your project coming along?”
Luz’s face grew somber and she took several bites of her third taco before replying. “Slow,” she said simply. “But I think it should be done soon. Just gotta push a little further. I don’t wanna be thirty and still working on it…”
Alma, for her part, was glancing between the two women with wonder and a slight hint of annoyance.
“Are you ever going to tell me what this secret project is all about?” she asked Luz impatiently. “Is it a big birthday gift for my quinceañera?” she added slyly.
Luz and Vee chuckled, then shared a look. They had one of those silent conversations they’d developed over the years. Luz was almost convinced basilisks must have had some sort of telepathic power sometimes.
“We’ll tell you in due time, Alma,” Luz said, patting the girl’s hand. “You just gotta trust me. You trust me?”
Alma looked up at her with those big green doe eyes, and Luz was almost tempted to spill the beans at that very moment. But she held firm, so the 14-year-old sighed. “I trust you.”
Vee clapped her hands. “Good, because we brought masitas!”
They spent the rest of the evening eating the pastries and discussing Alma’s summer classes, Luz and Vee’s plans for the coffee shop moving forward, and Camila’s new assistant at the clinic. It was only by eleven o’clock, when the excitable teenager was already getting sleepy, that they decided to call it a night. Luz and Vee said their goodbyes and made their way back home.
Once inside, Vee turned in, leaving Luz to her devices. She stared around their living room, dim moonlight seeping through the open curtains and bathing the space in an eerie but peaceful silver sheen. She was involuntarily reminded of the fateful night that had changed her life nearly fourteen years prior. How the oddly-colored moon of the Boiling Isles had illuminated the throne room through the hole in the roof. How Belos had writhed in pain in the wake of his worsening curse. How she had… enjoyed it.
Admittedly, she tried lying down on her bed. But even in the dead of night, Luz found that sleep eluded her. Her brain was much too active as thoughts of finally returning to the Boiling Isles crawled through it, infecting every other notion in her mind until she had to drag herself to her office and keep working on it.
She had to find a way. She had to.
The following morning, twenty minutes after eight o’clock, Alma was running late. The bus she usually took to the café had both been late and broken down halfway, so she’d had to run the remaining two miles. It did not help that today she had chosen to wear a long-sleeved black and red sweater, which meant that by the time she got to The Owl Lounge, she was sweating profusely.
The doorbell dinged merrily as she entered the deserted place. The ‘lounge’ area was comprised of several tables set up so there would be a small hallway down the middle where people could go up to the counter and place their orders. Fresh pastries usually decorated the display by the cash register, which now lay unmanned.
The girl rushed to the side door that bore the usual ‘Authorized personnel only’ sign and dashed inside, already stringing together an apology.
“Luz! I’m so sorry for being late, there was a delay and then the bus…” she trailed off as she took in the sight of the side office. It was a modest space with a corkboard on the wall, where a few pictures of the Noceda family hung. Beneath the board was a small bookshelf with all kinds of random books Luz claims to have collected over the years.
Luz herself was dozing off on the chair opposite the bookshelf, wearing one of her old Azura sweatshirts. Drool ran down her mouth and onto the desk, which was filled with all sorts of random stuff Alma had never seen before. An open book depicted a large golden oval that resembled a cat’s eye, surrounded by text in a language she could not read. A small wooden owl sat over a map of the United States with marker notes on it; apparently, Luz had circled the small dot of Connecticut with some fervor. Directly to Luz’s left were small pieces of paper with circle drawings similar to the one she had always admired tattooed on Luz’s right hand.
“She’s still asleep,” she said to herself quietly.
The most captivating thing she saw, however, was in Luz’s hand. It was a framed picture of Luz as a teenager when she was about Alma’s age. She was beaming brightly beside three people the girl had never seen before, all of them sporting equally jovial expressions. One of them was a boy with dark skin and short brown hair, wearing jeans that clearly did not fit him anymore. The next was a plump girl with round glasses and startlingly green eyes.
The final mystery person was a young woman with shoulder-length lavender hair, two brown streaks framing her face, and golden eyes that seemed to pierce through Alma’s… well, soul. Her right hand was hidden behind the bespectacled girl, but her left was held firmly in young Luz’s hand.
Alma felt a prickle of unease as she stared at the photo, and realized Luz probably did not want her snooping around her stuff. So, tearing her gaze from the frame, she wandered over to a rack by the door, set down her backpack on the floor, and put on her uniform. It was a simple blue apron with the café’s logo on it; a stylish owl over a white coffee cup.
She went back to the shop area and grabbed a broom to prepare the place for customers. They usually opened at 9, so she had a good twenty minutes left to sweep up the place and still set up the display by the counter.
Her headphones in and her playlist blaring, she swept the majority of the floor, humming cheerily to herself. She was just about to move onto the counter when she spotted something else out of place. Sitting on the cash register and staring intently at her was a small brown owl, holding a square piece of paper in its beak. Alma blinked twice, sure she had imaged it, but sure enough, the tiny creature simply hooted at her.
“Huh?” she said, pausing her music on her phone and brushing off her headphones. Carefully, she approached the bird. “What do you have there, little guy?”
The owl hooted again, jumping excitedly on the spot and wiggling his head so the paper fluttered. With a respectable level of apprehension and curiosity, Alma reached out and took the paper from the owl, who fluttered upward and landed on the tip of the broom handle.
She blinked once at it then looked back at the piece of paper in her hand, which she now realized was a drawing. It consisted of a large double-edged circle. Within it were two smaller circles stacked on one another. Triangle-like shapes sprouted from the top of each, and a single dot was drawn inside the larger one.
“This looks like one of Luz’s drawings,” she muttered, glancing at the owl as she ran her thumb over the dried ink. “Why are you showing me this?”
She barely had time to expect an answer from the bird when she felt the temperature in the room drastically increase, bright orange and yellow light emanating from her hand. It was only after a few seconds that her brain processed that she was literally holding a large flame in the palm of her hand, and she shrieked in surprise and fear.
Alma waved her hand around as the tiny owl leaped from the discarded broom and flew around her with reckless abandon.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she yelled, attempting unsuccessfully to quell the flame that had somehow sprouted from… the paper? Instinctively, she blew on it like a candle, which only seemed to serve as a catalyst as the fire burned ever brighter.
The office door banged open and in the threshold stood Luz, holding a fire extinguisher and looking around frantically. “¡¿Qué carajo?! ¿Qué está pasando?” she exclaimed, her eyes finally finding the source of the noise.
“F – Fire!” Alma managed to squeak out, glancing fearfully at Luz.
The woman promptly turned the nozzle of the extinguisher toward her and all but drenched her in the white foam, effectively putting out the fire in the girl’s hand. Alma finally calmed down enough to whisper a “thank you,” and stared ahead with wide eyes.
“M – Morning, Alma,” stuttered Luz, out of breath. “What a nice day, huh?”
The girl simply nodded slowly, beads of sweat running down her forehead. She glanced back at the woman. The owl that had delivered the fated piece of paper was currently nestled comfortably on Luz’s head, staring down at her.
“Morning, Luz,” she said shakily. “Um… I know this is the last thing I should be worrying about, but is that the same wood owl from your office?”
Luz blinked once, then nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah, it is,” she said sheepishly, clearing her throat. “His name’s Owlbert.”
“And one more question,” said Alma, her voice surprisingly calm. “What the HELL was that fire thing about?”
The older woman sighed and pursed her lips, then muttered something Alma could not hear. She seemed to be debating something… with the owl, who hooted in response to Luz’s whisperings. Before it got any more heated, Luz threw up her arms.
“Fine!” she exclaimed.
She kneeled down to be level with the girl and sighed. “Alma…” she said. “I have to tell you something, but you have to promise not to tell your grandma about this.”
Alma simply nodded, but what Luz was about to tell her, she could have only dreamed about…