is safe. For now. “Madra’s going to help us with the map. Let’s get
our things and keep going.”
I stand to walk past him, but he takes my hand in his. He stands,
towering over me. He brushes my tangled hair back and cups my face.
His eyes are greener in this firelight.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I shake my head. “Why’d you do it, Nova?”
He starts to smile. I bet he can’t help it. I bet his smile gets
him out of and into all sorts of trouble.
“You and me?” he says. “We come from different worlds. I have
nothing to my name.”
“What about your grandma?”
He shrugs dismissively. “I’m just another mouth to feed.”
“That can’t be true.”
His hands slide down from my cheeks to my neck. I wonder if he can
feel my heart racing.
“Not everyone’s got a family they’d die for,” he says. “If I
thought it’d get you in trouble, I would’ve thought twice about
stealing. Okay?”
“I can’t get all righteous on you,” I say, “though I’d just like
to point out that you’re the one who told me not to touch anything.”
Eye roll. “We cool?”
Rishi clears her throat. She’s leaning on the wall opposite us.
How long has she been standing there without me noticing?
“Let’s get this donkey show on the road,” she says.
“I think you mean dog and pony show,” Nova says.
Rishi looks him up and down. I guess they’ve stopped yelling at
each other, but that doesn’t mean they’ve called a truce. “Since
you’re here, I’m pretty sure I mean donkey.”
• • •
We say good-bye to the avianas, leaving them two-thirds of our
food supplies. Madra walks us to a tunnel that leads out of the caves.
It smells dank and is lit by torches.
“I do not think it is wise to journey to the labyrinth,” Madra
tells me. “But I honor your loyalty to your family, Alejandra Mortiz.
I will take a look at your map.”
I unfold the map for her to see. Her hawk eyes follow the ink
rendering of Los Lagos.
“The opening to this cave is on the map,” I say, “but if you
hadn’t come to our rescue, we’d never have found it.”
“Many witches and humans alike have come to these lands. Some seek
to steal its treasures. Others seek to make deadly pacts with the
Devourer-the desperate searching for their dead. We used to offer
passage to those who landed on this side of Los Lagos, but we closed
the caves off long ago.”
“What changed?”
“The Devourer’s strength grows every eclipse. My kin and I
attempted to band with the other tribes this side of the labyrinth.
Our loss was nearly total. The Forests of Lights were burned to the
ground. Now they are wastelands. The desert land of Bone Valle was
created from an old witch village during the first rebellion.”
“First?” I ask. “There’s been more than one?”
Madra nods somberly. “You ask why we do not join you. We have lost
everything to the Devourer. All we can do is try to stay alive. Even
now, the dead earth of Bone Valle encroaches on our territory as the
Devourer feeds off the Tree of Souls.”
“That’s horrible,” Rishi says.
“What if the Devourer could no longer feed off the tree?” I ask.
“That is a question that has cost thousands of lives.” Madra looks
to Rishi with motherly love, then to me with her usual stoic face. “I
do not have to remind you she is at the most risk.”
“I get it,” Rishi says. “I’m human, blah, blah.”
“Your disregard for the dangers of this land tells me you do not,
as you say, get it . But your path is your own to take.”
“Hold up,” Nova says, making a T with his hands. “If we take the
fork on the right, that means we end up at the Forest of Lights. You
said that was burned to a crisp.”
“Yes. The Devourer won’t chase after you in a wasteland.”
Nova looks unsure.
“You asked for my advice, and I am giving it to you. Follow this
tunnel to the other side of the caves. The path leads to the fork in
the road. Keep to the right path through the Wastelands del Este and
to the mountain pass. Be wary. Your presence here is known. Servants
of the Devourer roam the land and report any strangers they see.”
“The maloscuros,” I say.
“Among other beasts,” Madra says. “The saberskins, the giants
guarding the labyrinth, and sea monsters swim in Mar del Fin. Travel
swiftly and look twice at anyone or anything. Los Lagos is a fluid
land, and so are its inhabitants.”
I feel like I’m walking myself off a plank. A chorus of off-key
caws mark our final good-bye.
“Remember.” Madra’s deep voice follows me and echoes against
stone. “At the fork in the road, keep to the right path. The Devourer
does not free the power she takes. Be careful you are not caught by
her shadows.”
I find myself turning to Nova, who starts to lead us into the
tunnel. And I think to myself, It’s a good thing I’ve got a boy made
of light.
21
In the woods, I found the love de mis amores.
He was there at the end de mis dolores.
- Folk song, Book of Cantos
We walk down the tunnel in silence. Rishi kicks stones out of the
way. They roll like dice down our path. Nova cracks his knuckles over
and over. I think the lines on his arms are stretching farther up. Why
won’t he talk about it? I think about the recoil of my magic. I
examine my hands. All I’ve had to show so far are bruises that have
begun to fade. Passing out isn’t exactly my idea of fun, but I wonder
if it’s better than permanent marks.
I listen to the steady hum of life beneath the tunnel. The stones,
the minerals, even the stream that runs through the caves. I can feel
all of it calling to me like a long-lost friend. Madra said the
Devourer is sucking up all the life from these lands. If there is
nothing left, would she try to find a new place to destroy?
“You all right, Ladybird?” Nova asks, not looking back at me.
“Just wishing I’d brought a bottle of painkillers.”
“Why can you heal others but not yourself?” Rishi asks.
“We’re not supposed to use our powers for our own benefit,” I say.
“That sucks.”
“It’s not so bad,” I lie. I should say, It isn’t as bad as Nova’s
, but I don’t. I wonder why my recoil is different from his. My mom
says there aren’t truly evil or good brujas. That our powers are the
same blessings and it’s up to us to choose how to use them. Perhaps
the marks come when a brujo uses his powers for bad. They cover Nova’s
hands, forearms. They ring around his heart… Maybe I’m trying to see a
good in Nova that doesn’t exist.
Rishi picks up her pace to walk at my side. She’s a funny sight in
her black dress and broken black wings, but that’s what I love about
her. She’s completely and unabashedly herself, no matter who’s around.
“You’re practically a bird,” I say, playfully tugging at her hair.
“That’s what I want to be in my next life,” she says. “Being
people is too hard sometimes. I just want to shower in birdbaths and
fly like the wind.”
Nova looks over his shoulder briefly. His bright eyes trace my
face. Then he shakes his head. Whatever he might have said is
dispelled into the dark of the tunnel. He keeps walking with his hands
in his pockets.
“Where did tall, dark, and ugly come from?” Rishi whispers.
Ugly is the last word I’d use to describe Nova. He walks with his
head down, and I try to picture him walking down the street. If I saw
him walking opposite me, before I knew him, I’d probably cross to the