Page 51 of Castle of the Cursed
It takes me a moment to assess my options because Sebastián has created what could be an exhibit at a culinary art museum. An eclectic forest of knotted, bread-trunked trees with crowns of spaghetti, gnocchi, and angel hair is planted in a field of paella, beneath an elaborate full moon. By the trees is a residential area with rows of houses built with walls of manchego and topped with slanted roofs of jamón ibérico. There’s even a recreation of la Sombra, but I can’t see what Sebastián used for its construction because the whole thing is coated with coffee grounds to make it look black, adorned with streaks of red that’s either ketchup or hot sauce.
“See anything you like?” he asks.
I bite down to keep my mouth from betraying me.
“Is something wrong?”
I shake my head and attempt to serve myself anything from this table. What looks easiest to pluck is a hard-boiled egg that’s part of a spiral design replicating the full moon.
“Um, how did you cook these?” I ask, the egg cold and light in my hand.
“Cook?” he echoes.
Now the laughter bursts out of me, and I can’t hold back. When I see the befuddlement on his face, my cackles intensify, and I realize how funny I must have seemed to him the night I told him he was a hallucination. “I’m sorry,” I say between breaths. “This is the sweetest thing, but it’s… it’s not… edible.”
“What do you mean? This is all human food.”
“Eggs have to be boiled, bread has to be sliced, hot sauce doesn’t go on coffee grounds—” I notice a wineglass by me that’s filled with a dark red drink. “What is that?”
“Tomato juice.”
I bring it close to my nose and sniff. Gazpacho.
“Cheers!” I say, and take a big swig. Sebastián slides into Beatríz’s seat across from me, his face fallen with disappointment.
“I guess you don’t know everything,” I gloat, still smirking.
This appears to be the wrong thing to say because his frown lines only deepen. “I should have watched more carefully, but I lost interest when the human went into the kitchen.”
“Beatríz,” I say. “On Earth, humans use names to make it easier to communicate.”
He keeps his gaze lowered like he’s ashamed, and I feel bad, so I say, “Thank you for doing this.”
“You are malnourished,” he says gruffly. “Is any of this edible?”
I pick up a ham and cheese house-wich. I collapse the construction, flattening the jamón ibérico against the manchego, and I take a bite. The sharpness of the cheese is tempered by the smokiness of the ham, and I finish the breadless bocadito in two bites.
“Have you learned anything from your source today?” he asks after I’ve eaten a second house-wich.
I don’t want to admit I spent the day investigating him, so I say, “I learned the townspeople believe this castle hides a gateway to another realm they call Otro, and that’s why they stay in Oscuro through the generations. They believe as long as the bloodlines remain, the gate stays closed.”
I still don’t know what to believe, but I keep my tone neutral and study Sebastián for a reaction. “Where is it?” he asks me. “How does it open?”
His hunger for the information throws me off. “I don’t know. If it’s real, wouldn’t you have traveled through it to get here?”
He frowns. “I already told you I do not remember. After our last conversation, you still refuse to believe me?”
“It’s not that,” I say cautiously, unsure how he’s going to take my next question. “But has it occurred to you that since you’re missing your memories, it’s possible you made a deal with the so-called bruja that brought you here? Like a pact?”
“I have considered it, and it is possible,” he says. “I still want to know for certain.”
I nod in agreement. “Good. There’s something else—my source believes Brálagas can perform magic on the full moon. Which is tomorrow. If Beatríz is really a bruja, she could have taken off to gather ingredients for a spell.”
He frowns, plunging deep into thought. “Strange. I have seen no signs of magic from her. What about the castle lights?” he asks, focusing back on me. “Have they not flickered again?”
“Not since you took those pills from me. Maybe if you give them back, we could find more answers.”
“The pills given to you by the one you believe to be responsible for our situation?”
