Chapter One ONE
Three hours into their trek through the Andes, Valentina heard it. At first, she was sure it was another coati. The whining of the raccoonlike animal had been following them for a few miles. But now she thought she heard the distinct sound of heavy breathing.

The skin on her arms erupted in goose bumps.

“¿Escuchaste?” Papi whispered.

“Maybe,” Valentina said, a little too loudly. “It’s probably the wind.”

Papi brought a finger to his lips. “You’re going to scare it away.”

Her brother, Julián, bounced on his heels, his eyes almost black beneath the shade of tall ferns and even taller trees, which blocked out most of the light in this patch of the jungle. They were far from their farm and the slopes cultivated with coffee beans.

Valentina blew out a breath.

She loved her dad’s eccentricities. She did. But the last thing she wanted to do on the first day of summer was track down a patasola. According to legends, the one-legged woman wandered through the countryside looking for victims. Usually, men. She lured them with beautiful singing or cries for help, and when they were within reach: bam! She caught them and sucked their blood.

Kind of like a vampire, but cooler.

One thing was listening to the stories in the comfort of Papi’s study, though, and another was trudging through the Colombian jungle in search of a creature that didn’t exist.

“Sí, Vale,” her brother said. “Just ’cause you’d rather be drawing your stupid pictures doesn’t mean you have to ruin the fun for everyone.”

Valentina opened her mouth to retort, but Papi hissed, “Stop it. Both of you. Don’t make me regret bringing you.”

“This was your idea,” Valentina mumbled. “I would’ve much rather stayed home.”

Papi frowned. “You know that’s not an option. You’re twelve—”

“Almost thirteen,” Valentina corrected.

“Too young. Now basta. Let’s go.” He pushed deeper into the trees without waiting for an answer.

Julián stuck his tongue out at her, then bounded after their dad.

It wasn’t fair. Papi insisted on treating her like a little kid. It’s not like she would’ve been alone, anyway. Doña Alicia, their housekeeper, would’ve been there.

Why did Mami have to be called away for work this weekend? She had been sent with her team to el Nevado del Ruiz, near Manizales, because the volcano was threatening to erupt again. Mami, who was a geophysicist, was part of a group of scientists who were studying the recent eruptions and earthquakes happening across Colombia, especially since they were getting stronger and occurring more often. Valentina knew Mami’s job was important, but she wished she didn’t have to be dragged through the jungle, all because Papi didn’t trust her to stay home without him.

If you asked him, though, the reason he’d brought them was so they could “get to know the magic running in the veins of this country.”

As if magic really existed.

Again the heavy breathing came, sending shivers down Valentina’s spine.

“Wait!” she called, sprinting after her father and brother. She did not want to be left alone with whatever was out there.

As she reached Julián, she pushed back the damp locks that had come loose from her ponytail. Sticky sweat dripped down her face, and her T-shirt clung to her skin. She’d give anything to be in her room, drawing in peace and feeling the sweet, cool breeze drifting through her open window. It was her favorite spot on the whole farm.

She and her brother walked in silence behind Papi as he scouted the area, listening closely for any signs of the imaginary patasola.

Nearby, a bird warbled. Valentina craned her neck until she found it perched on a bare branch a few feet away. She itched to stop and draw its bright red head and yellow beak, which contrasted against its green body. Her gaze shifted to the vines hanging from the branch and to the dried moss clinging to them.

With the hazy light breaking through the treetops, this scene would make a perfect addition to her portfolio, which she’d been building since last year. She thought wistfully of the sketch pad and charcoal pencils tucked in her mochila.

Back home, her finca sat in a valley an hour south of Medellín. From her window, she could see the humps of the Andes, rows of coffee bushes and banana trees, and a smattering of houses from nearby towns. She wasn’t allowed past their property’s fence, so she’d only been able to draw the main house with Mami’s periwinkle hydrangeas, the copse of bamboo surrounding them, the small pond with geese at the center, and Papi’s cottage studio beside it. She’d even drawn a few wild parrots.

While her sketches were nice, they were missing something special.

The way she saw it, if she was being forced to come on this trip, she might as well take advantage and make her portfolio stronger. Then maybe, just maybe, it would be good enough for Señora Ramirez to recommend her for the Bogotá Academy of Arts next year.

And, if Valentina got in, maybe Mami would let her leave their boring finca and go live in the capital with her abuelitos. She could have a normal life, with movies and malls and maybe even sleepovers.

But that was a lot of maybes.

“¡Vamos!” Julián said, tugging her arm. “You’re going to make us lose the patasola. Or”—he paused, grinning mischievously—“she might sneak up behind you when you’re distracted.”

She glared at her brother and followed Papi through the narrow path between trees. Every so often, he paused, placed his palm on the earth, and peered into the bare bushes, as if he were tracking a wild animal. Julián watched their father and mimicked him, which made Valentina shake her head in amusement. They looked ridiculous.

The farther they went, the more her feet crunched on dry leaves littered across the cracked dirt. Everywhere around her, the earth seemed to thirst. Valentina realized the worst drought in Colombia’s history had reached this jungle. It had started in the northern tip of the country several years ago, and slowly, like spilled ink spreading across canvas, it had stretched toward their finca and continued south.

To here.

According to Mami, the drought and the increase in earthquakes and eruptions went hand in hand. Mami blamed it on deforestation and pollution, which had gotten worse in recent decades and which, in her words, were “going to destroy our land.” There was rarely a night when Mami wasn’t ranting about greedy people and the extinction of Colombia’s ecosystems.

A familiar uneasiness settled over Valentina as the nightmare from the night before rushed forward. In it, she stood at the edge of her finca, drawing the scenery. Suddenly, the earth trembled so fiercely it knocked her down before bursting open at her feet. Fire sparked and spread across their fields, reaching toward home. Valentina remembered screaming for Julián and her parents, just as volcanoes jutted out from the crevice, shooting lava and boulders from their craters.

The earth is not happy.

Valentina shuddered as the words flashed through her thoughts. She’d been having the nightmares more often recently. The weirdest part was that afterward, her body tingled with an ache so strong, it felt like someone she loved had died. She couldn’t explain it, and when she’d made the mistake of mentioning it to Mami, her mother had scoffed. “Your papá’s stories are filling your head with cucarachas.”

Honestly, Mami and Papi were as different as the sun and the moon. One chased science, the other tracked leyendas. How they got along was beyond her, but they did. They seemed as happy as when they’d first met at the university. She’d even caught them dancing vallenato in the kitchen a few times, when they thought no one was looking.

Maybe Mami and Papi got along because they had such different personalities; each one kept the other grounded. Meanwhile, Valentina occupied some space between the two of them—too creative for Mami, too logical for Papi—and she felt like she didn’t belong anywhere.

Now, in the jungle, silence descended. No birds warbled. No coatis whined. Even the heavy breathing seemed to vanish.

A twig broke ahead, and Papi froze.

“Did you hear that?” Julián mouthed, his eyes glittering with excitement.

Valentina had, but that could’ve been any of the wildlife living here. Monkeys. Snakes. Mountain tapirs. Bespectacled bears. Even jaguars might be prowling around. She shuddered at the thought of coming face-to-face with a growling carnivorous cat.

Papi met their gazes and pressed a finger to his lips.

Slowly, he slipped out a net from his mochila. He lowered a pair of heat-vision goggles over his eyes and crept forward, keeping low to the ground.

Beside her, Julián tensed.

Part of Valentina wanted to roll her eyes and huff, It’s just another animal. But she couldn’t keep her heart from pumping faster. Could it be? What if they really did catch a patasola? Would the creature look the way Papi described her—one leg, matted hair, sharp fangs? It would be cool if the creatures from Papi’s stories existed. Kind of like magic becoming real, a break from the boringness of farm life.

She wouldn’t say that aloud, though.

Instead, she waited beside her brother beneath the shade of giant robles and watched as her father inched toward the sound, the net clutched in his hands and the goggles making him look like some sort of alien.

Another twig snapped. Then came a shuffle between ferns. Papi crouched even lower. Beads of sweat dripped down his face. His mouth pressed into a thin line. Valentina edged forward, anticipation buzzing in her bones as Julián gripped her arm. Neither of them spoke.

In a single fluid movement, Papi swung the net and a shrill, piercing shriek echoed across the jungle.

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