sensitive, I can hear the spike of Rishi’s heart, the way her lungs
expand for air, the way she struggles as something takes hold of her.
“Rishi?” I reach for her in the dark, but Nova holds me tighter.
“Now, Alejandra,” the Devourer says, “let me see how easily you
are broken.”
32
Liar’s tongue and feathers fair,
take this path, if lovers dare.
- The Forbidden Canto, a.k.a. the Romeo Death, from The Art of
Poison, Angela Aurora Santiago
The Devourer appears out of the dark, a creature of the shadows.
She stands feet away from Rishi. My eyes begin to clear, but I wish I
couldn’t see anything. I pull myself out of Nova’s hold. When he sets
me down, my knees want to give out under me. I fight the urge to cry
and scream because the recoil is making it impossible to think
clearly. All I see is Rishi, bound and gagged. She shakes her head.
The Devourer’s dress of metal and bone clings to her like
darkness. Her red eyes are bright behind the helmet of bone. She
traces her long, pointed nails along Rishi’s cheek. Vines rope around
Rishi’s feet, keeping her locked to the ground. A thorny rope winds
around her arms, torso, neck, and mouth. Blood drips where the thorns
pierce her lips shut.
“So tender,” the Devourer says in her smoky voice. “Tell me,
Alejandra Mortiz. Did you begin to hope that you three would make it
out of here alive?”
“Don’t move,” I tell Rishi. Every time she moves, the vines wrap
tighter, the thorns dig deeper. “Let her go,” I say through gritted
teeth.
The Devourer walks on the gray earth. For the first time, I notice
the dark hill in the background, a great structure erected at the top
like a crown. The labyrinth. She stops inches from me. My power is a
weak pulse, struggling to come to my aid. I have a dagger, but my mace
is on the ground beside Rishi’s feet. How quickly would the Devourer
break my neck if I move?
She conjures a glass vial on the palm of her hand. It glows red
like lava and has tiny gold flecks inside.
“Nova,” she says, “be a dear, won’t you?”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. I can hear the regret in his voice.
Nova won’t look at me. He stares at the ground. Then at the
Devourer’s hand. He takes the vial and goes to Rishi’s side.
“Nova?” I hate the way I sound. Hurt. Childish. The Devourer
watches every movement of my face. She grins wide, taking pleasure in
all of this.
“My dear, Nova,” she says. “You chose her well.”
I hate the way she says his name. Hate the way he moves when she
tells him to. Hate the way he doesn’t put up a fight. Mostly, I hate
that I didn’t see.
I didn’t want to.
Look twice.
Nova stands at the Devourer’s right-hand side. She rests her hand
around his throat, like she’ll snap it in two. Then, all she does is
rake her fingernails softly down his neck.
“You remember this potion, Alejandra, don’t you?” the Devourer
asks.
“No.”
“Liar’s tongue, feathers of a golden bird,” the Devourer
singsongs. “I have to thank you. You’ve helped my boy so much. It’s a
pity you didn’t fall in love with him like the others. You’re losing
your touch, Nova.”
Nova won’t look at me. Look at me , I will him with my mind. My
power whimpers in response, and so Nova just stands there.
“No matter.” The Devourer walks around us like she’s corralling
her prey. “I have this sweet, sweet girl. Her love for you is so
strong she threw herself into another galaxy to be with you. That’s
the kind of magic I can’t fabricate anymore. Surrender, Alejandra
Mortiz, or Rishi dies. I will open her mouth and empty this vial down
her throat. Do you know what the Forbidden Canto does?”
Rishi’s eyes are shut. Fat tears carve their way through the dirt
on her face. She shakes her head. When she squeezes her lips, the
vines get tighter and blood drips from every puncture wound.
“What?” I growl.
“You really should study your cantos, dear,” the Devourer chides
me. “The Forbidden Canto breaks the heart. It’s meant as a form of
poetic suicide. It’ll attack all her tender human organs, saving the
heart for next to last. In those moments, she will endure lifetimes of
agony. You see, she will stay alive long enough to watch you watch her
die. Then, her brain will give out, and that is the last thing Rishi
will ever see.
“Nova’s grandmother wrote this particular canto and created the
draught. Your world is full of so many possibilities. I can’t wait to
rip a hole through it. Now, surrender your power, or I will pour this
down Rishi’s throat.”
With a wave of the Devourer’s hand, the vines around Rishi’s face
come undone. Blood drips from the holes around her lips. She cries out
once.
“Don’t,” Rishi tells me. Her midnight eyes are locked on mine.
“Don’t.”
Nova uncorks the vial. He brings the glass to Rishi’s lips. She
tries to keep them closed, but the Devourer forces them open.
“Nova,” I say his name. “You don’t have to do this.”
His voice is hard, and when he looks at me, he says, “Yes I do.”
The red liquid slides down the glass, a red bead pools at the tip.
I stop breathing. It’s as if El Corazуn has ripped my heart right out
of my chest. How can I watch Rishi die?
“I surrender,” I scream.
Nova drops the vial on the ground. It spills into the dirt.
The Devourer raises her hands, and I feel her magic seize me. My
chest burns as I struggle to breathe. I kick the air, try to pry the
force from around my neck until I feel a terrible pain stab at my
heart. Warm liquid drips from my ears, my nose; blurry, dark tears
sting my eyes. I’m choking. I’m dying. My heart flutters like the
wings of a hummingbird. My mind is heavy as the sea. I feel like I’ve
aged a hundred years and now I’m brittle and broken.
I stop struggling.
My arms drop to my sides. The force around my neck releases, then
drops me on the ground. A light floods from me and into the Devourer’s
palm. My power pulses like a star in her hand. She blows on it, and
the orb travels directly to the labyrinth, to the Tree of Souls.
The realization hits me like a gunshot to the heart. Tears spill
down my face. She took my light. She took my magic.
33
Sometimes, the Deos choose wrong.
There was an encantrix who broke the laws of nature.
She claimed herself a god. So the Deos
banished her to a land forgotten.
They should have known, wild magic can’t be tamed.
- The writings of Alta Bruja Kristiсe
“Noveno Santiago,” the Devourer says. She takes her nail and drags
it across her palm. Scarlet blood bubbles from the wound. “I free you
from our contract. From my blood to yours. I bless you with the lives
of the banished. Rise, no longer servant, but child of my darkness.”
He stands taller, tilting his face up to the heavens. She squeezes
her palm over his head. The blood drips down his forehead, over his
closed eyes, down his lips.
The black marks on his chest and arms light up. His chest expands,
then shudders. His light is blinding. I force myself to watch. To
remember the way this feels, so I can never feel this way again.
When the light fades, Nova stands still. The boy who crossed my
path on the street, the boy who found me, the boy who lit up the dark
for me is dead to me. I realize he never existed, and I’m just a fool
for thinking he did.
You chose well this time , the Devourer said. You’re losing your