The Ghosts of Rancho Espanto


 Contents
 
 Title Page
 Copyright Notice
 Dedication
 Chapter 1
 Chapter 2
 Chapter 3
 Chapter 4
 Chapter 5
 Chapter 6
 Chapter 7
 Chapter 8
 Chapter 9
 Chapter 10
 Chapter 11
 Chapter 12
 Chapter 13
 Chapter 14
 Chapter 15
 Chapter 16
 Chapter 17
 Chapter 18
 Chapter 19
 Chapter 20
 Chapter 21
 Chapter 22
 Chapter 23
 Chapter 24
 Author’s Note
 Acknowledgments
 Also by Adrianna Cuevas
 Praise Page
 About the Author
 Newsletter Sign-up
 Copyright
 
 
 
 Guide
 
 Cover
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Contents
 Chapter 1
 Author’s Note
 Acknowledgments
 Copyright
 
 
 
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 Begin Reading
 Table of Contents
 About the Author
 Copyright Page
 
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 To Heather and Rob
 and the magic of Ghost Ranch
 
 
 
 CHAPTER 1
 
 “YOU MEANDER DOWN an empty corridor, late afternoon light streaming through the large, smudged windows,” Beto whispers behind me and Yesi as we walk down the hall. “You slowly make your way to the large banquet hall, empty of revelers.”
 Beto, Yesi, and I stop at the doorway of our school cafeteria at Heron Glade Middle School. Beto gives me a confident smile, his braces glinting in the light.
 He puts one hand on my shoulder and one hand on Yesi’s shoulder. “Your clan has been granted one item from the banquet hall to aid them in their travels. What do you decide to take?”
 Yesi looks at Beto and winks. I swallow hard. “Are we really doing this?” I ask. My ears hurt from straining to listen for approaching teachers or custodians catching us in the act.
 Beto squeezes my shoulder as Yesi nods. “Oh yeah. Our clan elects to take the slushie machine,” she says.
 Beto smirks. “Excuse me, brave traveler. The what?”
 Yesi squints, thinking. “The … magic fountain of icy sweetness.”
 “Ah, the magic fountain.” Beto nods. “Excellent choice. Roll, please.”
 Yesi pulls a green twenty-sided die from her jeans pocket. We crouch on the ground, and she flips the die on the gray concrete floor. It tumbles with a clatter that echoes through the hall. Our game is based on Beto describing a situation, Yesi and I deciding what we want to do, and then someone rolling a die to see if we’ll be successful. The number that pops up will tell us whether our attempt to steal the slushie machine will work. The higher the number, the better.
 “Sixteen,” Yesi says.
 Beto winks at us. “I see success in your endeavor.”
 We creep into the cafeteria, our eyes on the gleaming metal prize in the corner of the room.
 Beto, Yesi, and I have been obsessed with the role-playing game The Forgotten Age since the beginning of third grade. Other players have come in and out of our game, since it doesn’t really work with only three people, but they always lose interest. We’re the only ones who’ve stuck with it for nearly four years.
 Last week, my dining room table was covered with our character charts, a Land of Eldervorn map, multicolored twenty-sided dice, and a thick players’ book for The Forgotten Age, brimming with sticky notes. That was when Beto came up with the Great Big Idea to take our characters on a real adventure, one that would make our regular tabletop journeys seem like two-dimensional snooze fests. Beto insisted it was the perfect opportunity to showcase our characters and skills. Yesi agreed immediately. She’s the rogue in our group and always pushes our team into dark dungeons