Thank you to DeejayMIL for being my beta. You're a champion!
Getting out of the house was easy. Héctor had apparently crawled in through his window, but there was no need to go out that way. Miguel simply walked out the front door, Dante at his heels and Héctor on his shoulder. Shivering a little as he opened the door and a cool breeze slipped past. He was only in a singlet and board shorts, this was a terrible idea.
"I need to get changed."
"No time for that, chamaco. We've got to get a move on. Vámonos!"
Miguel shot an unimpressed look at Héctor, who dug bare heels into his shoulder and patted the side of his neck like he was a horse who just needed a bit of coaxing to make a particularly challenging step. Before he could, there was a low bird call, an almost slurred whistle, and Miguel jolted at the sound of it. Héctor brightened and started looking around.
"Zalli! There you are, diosa!" Miguel followed his eyes and saw a bird sitting on a nearby windowsill. It had a black head and wings and a brilliant yellow body that shone like gold in the moonlight. It cocked its head at them, then fluttered its wings and flew towards them. Much to Miguel's shock, it perched on the point of his shoulder beside Héctor and lowered its head as the faerie wrapped his arms around it. They were roughly the same height, so Héctor had to hop to his feet for the embrace.
"Wait, this is your bird?"
"Yes! This is Zalli, she is my…" Héctor faltered, then squinted suspiciously up at Miguel. "She's my bird," he finally finished, unconvincingly. "Zalli, this is…uh…boy."
"My name is Miguel." He couldn't quite maintain the unimpressed tone while watching Héctor interact with the songbird. The easy way he smoothed a hand over the dark feathers of her neck and how her beady eyes seemed intent of his face. It was totally natural and absolutely unselfconscious.
"Yes! This is Miguel. He ate my dinner so we're taking him to the Faerie Realm to break the curse."
There was a prolonged silence. Zalli fluttered her wings and tilted her head and let out a low, 'peu' noise. It carried a note of uncertainty that most humans would have difficulty expressing. Héctor nodded and gently rubbed her neck.
"I know, I know. But he's very convincing. Oh, and we're taking the dog too." Another slurred whistle and tilt of her head. Héctor mumbled something and wrapped his arms around her. She let out a chirrup and took off, her claws scraping against Miguel's skin as she did. "Alright, chamaco, time to go."
"Where are we going? You haven't told me how we're getting to the Faerie Realm."
"We've got to go through my sídhe," Héctor said, matter-of-factly.
"And where is that?"
Héctor narrowed his eyes. Frowned. "You're the one who's been visiting every day. You should know the way better than anyone."
Miguel thought it over. He certainly wasn't visiting anyone's…sídhe—whatever that was—on purpose. There was only one place he visited routinely. "The tree? Do you mean the tree in the forest?" Héctor grinned and tapped one finger on the side of his long, hooked nose. "How do you know I visit there? Do you…watch me?"
The grin faded just a shade. Héctor shrugged narrow shoulders in a nonchalant fashion and pointedly looked up at the sky, where his bird was flying just overhead. When he eventually spoke, his voice was hushed and thoughtful.
"You play music. I like music…" Then, oddly defensive, "You're the one who sits in my sídhe every day to play your guitar, am I supposed to not listen?"
Miguel smiled. He couldn't help it. He loved playing the guitar and it was thrilling, in a way, to learn that he'd had an audience this whole time. As such, he couldn't help but ask, "Am I…any good?"
Héctor grinned again, patting Miguel's cheek with a small, cold hand. "You have music in your soul, chamaco. The guitar fits you."
Miguel flushed as a wave of happiness washed through him. It was nice, hearing that someone had not only listened but actually enjoyed the music he played. He hadn't realised how much it would mean.
"So, now we've got to get to the forest. What's the quickest way?"
Miguel hesitated. "Through the cemetery, I guess. Though we'd have to be careful. They keep it locked up at night." Héctor made a blasé huff and shrugged. "And I'm not tiny like you; I can't just squeeze through the bars."
"Ah, yes." As they approached the gates Héctor examined the fence with one eye closed and his head tilting back and forth. "Yes, I can see how this would be a problem. If only you were a proper faerie instead of just being cursed. You could just fly right over." Héctor made little flapping motions of his hands.
"Wings? If I was a faerie I'd have wings?" Miguel narrowed his eyes. "Wait, you don't have wings."
"This is not the time for that, up and over!" Héctor bounced off Miguel's shoulder with surprising grace and, quick as lightning, Zalli snatched him in mid-air and slipped them both through the fence. Miguel managed to catch just a glimpse of the faerie's back and the two thin slits in his sewn leaf vest as they did, before they were too small to discern. "Come on! You're falling behind!"
Miguel rolled his eyes, crouched down and caught Dante's face between his hands. "You go around, boy. I'll meet you at the guitar."
Dante lapped at his hands, looked at him with wide eyes that almost, maybe, showed a spark of intelligence somewhere deep beneath. There had to be some smarts in there somewhere, because he turned and bounded away along the fence. Following orders, as he always did. Miguel looked up at the fence. Iron bars with twisted spikes. They certainly looked sharp. He hoped it was just for show.
He pulled off his singlet and shuddered as the breeze ran up his spine. It was icy, that breeze, the complete opposite of the hot humid air during the day. He'd not been outside this late before and so wasn't completely sure if this was normal or not. White cloth wrapped tight around his fist, he clambered onto the concrete foundation and reached up towards the twisted spires. There was a horizontal iron bar just beneath them and he found he could easily fit his hand in the gap without too much pressure. Pushed off with his feet. Flung his wrapped hand up. Caught hold of a twisted spike. His lips were already beared in a grimace, so when his hand wrapped around the iron he felt a searing pain in his palm. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up using his other hand as a lever and wedging bare toes into the gap where his other hand was. With a grunt of effort, he hoisted himself over, landing on the grass he mowed every other weekend with a pained gasp.
He unwound the singlet frantically, so convinced that he'd impaled his hand on climbing that for a moment he saw bright red blood shining from an uneven gash in his palm, but when he blinked the blood was gone. Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, he got to his feet and pulled his singlet back on. It didn't do much against the cold wind, but it was something at least. He hurried through the cemetery, under the shadow of Ernesto de la Cruz's tomb and into the forest.
It was different at night. The layers of vivid green overlapped to become almost black. His eyes narrowed and widened at alternating moments to try to adjust to the utter darkness. Then, a glimmer of gold. Zalli swooped down from one of the trees, Héctor now on her back, and her body shone with a gentle, glittering light.
"Your bird glows in the dark," Miguel said, eyes wide and voice flat. He didn't know why he was surprised at this point. Maybe all birds glowed in the dark, how would he know?
"She's special," Héctor said proudly, stroking the black feathers on her neck. "Come on, chamaco, we've got to get to my sídhe."
"We've got to get Dante first, he'll be waiting at the grave." Miguel pressed forward, grateful that Zalli fluttered close enough that the light emanating from her feathers illuminated the path he usually followed. Héctor was silent as they passed the few scattered graves in the forest, his mouth set in a thin line and his eyes fixed ahead.
As they drew closer to the last grave, Miguel was astonished to hear the gentle strumming of his guitar. It was as familiar to him as his own voice at this point, the rough edge to the E string, the extra twang from the A string that he'd learned to control. Someone was playing his guitar. Why would someone be playing his guitar at this time of night?
He picked up speed, eyes wide in the gloom as Zalli whistled and beat her wings harder to keep up. The guitar was gone, the case open on the cleared grass and the tarp laying in a crumpled blue heap. Dante was sniffing interestedly at the battered leather, his hackles not raised. Héctor, seeing all of this laid out, let out a muffled curse and put his hands over his face.
"Where's my guitar?" Miguel asked, then added with a rising heat of anger in his tone, "Who took my guitar?"
A shadow separated itself from the trees. Tall and broad with bumps and lines that hurt his head to look at. Zalli whistled her uncertain slurred whistle and Héctor wrapped thin arms tight around her neck, ducking his head behind hers. Miguel's mouth gaped open. As the figure drew closer it became more distinct, a skeletal wraith with wings of shadow.
"Héctor," it growled, voice low and gravelly, the sound of stones stirring at the bottom of a well. "What are you doing here?"
"Chicharrón!" Héctor shot up from his hiding spot behind Zalli's head and offered a wide, winning smile. "I didn't know you were up! How've you been? It's been a long time!"
The skeleton huffed, exposed teeth clacking together, before turning its yellowing skull towards Miguel. "You're the boy, the one with the guitar." Long phalanxes formed basic chords and strummed out harsh chords. "Thank you for the offering."
"It's not an offering! It's my guitar!" Miguel was shocked at the words coming out of his own mouth. It was as though his mouth was on a totally separate circuit from his brain.
"And for cleaning my grave," Chicharrón continued, as though Miguel hadn't spoken. "It has been many years since anyone cared for my resting place. I appreciate the effort you've made."
"I… Uh… You're welcome?" Miguel smiled, uncertain about what exactly was happening now. Had he said grave? Yeah, sure, probably. He was a skeleton, after all, it made sense he had a grave.
Chicharrón nodded, a slow movement of his huge skull, then turned those empty eye sockets back to Héctor. "You should not have left the forest, Héctor. Visiting family only. You know that."
"Ay, Cheech, we all make mistakes." Héctor's winning smile didn't fade, though Miguel could clearly see a nervous tremble passing through the faerie's body. "Miguel here ate food from my sídhe. I had to go find him. It's just a little rule broken, okay? And I'm coming back now, you didn't even know I was gone!"
Another huff. This one accompanied by an awful bony clattering that made Miguel shudder. "You break the rules too often, Héctor. When you end up on this side you will not be looked on kindly."
Héctor nodded and looked suitably abashed, but Miguel could see the hand behind his back making a very unflattering puppet motion as Cheech talked. "Yes of course, Cheech, now if you could just let us through we've got to try and break this curse."
Cheech turned between the two of them. Now Miguel was looking closely he could see a very dim light in the back of his eye sockets; a subtle gleam that only just reflected the golden shine of Zalli's feathers. "I will allow it, for Miguel's benefit." Cheech bent, a slow stately movement, and patted Dante's head. Skeletal fingers running gently over the Xolo's skin. Dante yipped and lapped at the bones, the sight making Miguel's stomach twist in an odd way. "Good dog."
Héctor wiped his forehead, a much more genuine movement then when he'd done the same in Miguel's room, and gestured. "Come on, chamaco, we've got to hurry."
Miguel hesitated, held up one finger. "Uh, about my guitar?"
"Our guitar," Cheech corrected. The lift of his voice made it sound like he was smiling, though there was no alteration in the bare skull. "I put it back come sunrise. I promise."
Reassured, Miguel flashed a thumbs-up and followed the glitter of Zalli's body, along the same path he'd walked almost every day.
Towards the clearing and the twisted, stunted tree.