The Smoking Mirror Read Online Free PDF Page A

most naguales , this is a natural process, like what you’re going through. But a small number of sorcerers learn to pull their tonal through their flesh…”
“Wait.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Sorcerers? So not only do were-jaguars exist, but witches, too? What else? Vampires? Mermaids? Unicorns?”
Mom smiled at me, not the sort of reaction I had expected or wanted. “Almost all the old stories are true, Vero. But people hunted most of those ancient creatures into hiding or extinction long ago. And were-jaguars ? No, that’s something totally different. But you’re getting me off track. What I’m trying to tell you is that it is difficult to control your tonal . You’re not used to having a conscious awareness of that aspect of your being. That’s why you don’t remember anything about your transformations.”
“But...now that I know, won’t I start remembering? Won’t I be aware?”
“To a small degree, yes. But it takes a lot of practice, Sweetie. I can guide you somewhat, but we’re going to have to enlist the help of more knowledgeable folk.”
She didn’t explain what she meant, but she promised she’d be with me in the grove tonight, in jaguar form. Now that I’ve jotted all this down, I’m going to try to get some sleep. I mean, close my eyes and let my beast-soul take over. Or whatever. Goodnight.

    Johnny leaned forward. His heart was racing, his palms tingling. “Whoa. So I’m a nagual , too, huh?” He looked at his grandmother, who smiled crookedly and swiveled her head around to stare at Carol.
    “Uh, Johnny…there’s something I need to tell you.”
    Carol’s face was flushed, and she dropped her gaze to the tiled floor. Johnny understood right away. “Wait. No way. You, too? Dude!”
    “You probably think that this is totally cool, don’t you?” Carol had her normal I-don’t-approve-of-your-boyish-enthusiasm face on.  
    “Hello. Of course I do. Are you nuts? We get to transform into big freaking cats. How is that not cool?”
    “Well, it sounds like Abuela Helga was pointing out some pretty major drawbacks back in 1988, Johnny-boy.”
    “Just keep reading…gah. Girls, I swear.”
    Narrowing her eyes, Carol continued.

So I remember bits and pieces now. Smells, mainly. Specifically, the smell of blood. The sound of a beating heart. The scent of my mother, racing ahead of me, showing me how to flush a brace of jack rabbits.
This morning she was sitting at the foot of my bed, smiling.
“You’re almost completely a jaguar now, when you transform. Do you remember?”
I told her I did.
“Good. Pretty soon we’ll take a trip to Monterrey. To visit your cousins. At least,” she whispered, “that’s what we’ll tell your dad. In reality, we’re going to visit the García Caves. Some…experts in these matters…can be found there.”
“Who, the tour guides? There isn’t anyone else living up on Friar Mountain, Mom. It’s in the middle of a national park”
“I’m more interested in the folk living inside the mountain, Vero. But you’ll see what I mean soon enough.”
I ignored her cryptic remark for a moment. “Why do we have to lie to Dad, though? Doesn’t he know…what you are?”
Mom’s eyes got all misty, and she glanced away. “He knows. That’s…that’s how we met. It was the late ‘60s, during the student movement: civil rights protests, pro-labor rallies, meetings to promote equality for women. He was a captain in the army then. His men, searching for secret anarchist meetings and so forth, found my mother and some other naguales, and—oh, Sweetie—they killed them. Then they began to investigate their families. Your dad tracked me down…I was studying at the UNAM in Mexico City. He pretended to be a graduate student. We…I fell for him. He’s pretty handsome, you know.” She laughed a little. “Anyway, I guess he couldn’t go through with…turning me in or whatever. When he told me the truth, I hated him a little. But by