Labyrinth Lost Page 11

  “Hold on!” he shouts. For the second time today, we’re falling.

  My muscles seize and spasm from the recoil of my magic, so I’m unable to shout, I can’t!

  But when he wraps his arms around me, I realize he isn’t telling me to hold on to my magic or the ship.

  He means, “Hold on to me.”

  16

  Like a shadow, she crept across the land.

  Like a weed, she took hold and grew.

  —On the Devourer, from the journal of Rosaria Vargas

  The first time I saw my dead aunt Rosaria, she was beautiful.

  Brujas don’t lay their dead alone in wooden boxes. We build them shrines and equip them for what comes next. When I was little, I thought it was a grand thing. I didn’t realize the bodies were dead. I didn’t realize we filled their mouths with flowers or put gold coins on their eyelids so they wouldn’t reach the afterlife empty-handed. Little eyes don’t see the consequences of adults.

  “Why are you here?” I ask her now, here, in this wretched land. Here in Los Lagos.

  Aunt Rosaria is a vision in her white dress. Her lips are red and plump, as when she was alive and dancing and full of wonder. Her soft-brown eyes sparkle against the stormy skies of a world I wasn’t sure I believed in until now.

  She shakes her head, a sad smile on her face. She’s talking, but I can’t hear her. Everything that comes out of her mouth is like radio static except for one word. “Stubborn.”

  I reach for her face, but I touch smoke. Aunt Rosaria dissolves into the air, and when my eyes can focus, I realize I’m seeing things that aren’t there. Maybe insanity is part of the recoil.

  I sit up and regret it. My body aches in ways I didn’t think were possible. I feel broken. Three back-to-back days of training broken. Zero sleep after bloody dreams broken. Stiff neck after riding the Coney Island Cyclone broken.

  I grab a clump of damp sand. Run it through my fingers. Black grains stick to my skin, and I remember that I hate the beach. No matter what, even at the end of summer, I find sand everywhere.

  But this isn’t a Brooklyn beach. It isn’t summer. And it isn’t familiar. Our golden vessel is sideways. A battered Nova tries to right it.

  “Help me push this back into the river,” Nova says.

  “Why? That guy was a dick.”

  “Magical trade is all about the technicalities,” he says, shaking his head. “I should’ve seen it. He provided crossing, and we got ourselves across. I don’t want to have to keep watching my back because we stole mad gold from a duende. Do you?”

  I don’t tell Nova he’s right because I’m sure he’s keeping count.

  My palms are still missing a layer of skin, but I help Nova right the boat on the river. It sails cleanly into the layer of mist that’s settled over the water. At the shore where the sand is darkest, we watch as hands stretch up in soft waves where surf should be.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks.

  “Doesn’t matter. We have to keep going.”

  The thing I love about Nova is that he lets things drop. Rishi would poke and prod until I told her everything that was on my mind. Rose would stare in silence until I confessed, like the time Lula and I ate her stash of chocolate. Lula would simply demand I tell her what was wrong. Nova picks up our backpack and walks ahead of me, holding on to the mace with a firm hand.

  We walk for a long time across the sandy shore, stopping only once to eat some bread and split an apple. The apple skin gets stuck in my teeth, and I try to wash it down with water. The heat is sweltering, and our lips are dry from thirst. I could drink everything in our backpack, but we still have such a long way to go. We consult the map, and it shows there’s an opening to the Caves of Night.

  A giant bird with a long, wrinkled neck and hooked beak perches on a nearby boulder. Its dull-brown wings sag. There are naked patches where the feathers have fallen off. It pecks at the boulder. It looks so skinny, but right now, our food is precious. I take the piece of bread in my hand and throw it to the bird.

  It never touches the ground. The scavenger swoops in the air and gobbles the sliver up in a single bite.

  “Those things give me the creeps,” Nova says, walking ahead.

  “We almost got our hides melted down by a river of souls, and a hungry bird gives you the creeps?”

  “It’s in the eyes,” he says. “Something’s not right about them. I bet if either of us dropped dead, these birds would be tearing at our flesh before we got cold.”

  “Then we’d better not die.”

  He looks back once, only to take the backpack from me. I told him we could take turns, but he wants to act all chivalrous. I want to point out that asking for another five hundred for the payment to Oros wasn’t chivalrous, but I guess it’s fair. We got each other across the river, and that’s what matters. For all we snap at each other, I can count on him to not let me die. It’s a symbiotic relationship, like a shark and a remora fish. Only I’m not sure which one of us is the shark or the remora just yet.

  After we walk for what feels like hours without finding the caves that are marked on the map, I start to feel less thankful. It’s silly to think of it as hours when our watches have stopped ticking. But we do see the sun and crescent moon travel across the sky, starting from opposite ends. When they reach the highest point of the sky, I decide it marks noon. I fiddle with my watch and discover something.

  “Yes!”

  “You see the opening?” Nova turns around expectantly.

  I shake my head. “The timer on my watch still works!”

  “How does that help us?”

  “We can keep track of our movements.” I pick up two round stones and hold them apart. “Okay, so the moon and sun start on opposite ends of the horizon, right? Like these two stones. Each time they reach noon, they get a fraction closer together. I’m setting a timer to see how long it takes for a full cycle.”

  “You’re giving me a headache.” He turns back around and keeps walking. “Don’t make yourself nuts, okay?”

  “Excuse me for wanting a little bit of order in my life.”

  He turns around, crossing his arms over his tattooed chest. He’s all bright eyes and smirking lips. “Where has all this order gotten you so far?”

  “Where has the lack of it gotten you?”

  Looking at his naked chest makes me forget why we’re even fighting. It’s not for the same reasons Lula and I fight. We fight because we’re sisters. Nova and I fight because both of us want to be right. What’s the alternative? Oh, right—being friends. Rishi is my best friend, but even with her, I kept a part of myself hidden. I was Alex Mortiz, the girl that never cut class, that was always on time, that always did her homework.

  Who can I be with Nova? He gets to see a side of me that’s never been tested, that no one has ever seen, and I’m not so sure he’s earned that. It makes me nervous and worried and unsure. What if I don’t like that version of myself?

  “You’re pretty when you’re stubborn,” he says.

  “You’re just pretty dumb.”

  He feigns a shot to the heart but laughs all the same. I want to reach out and press my finger to his dimple. When I was a kid, I always wanted dimpled cheeks. I used to push the rubber ends of my pencils into my cheeks for hours, hoping they’d make lasting impressions.

  “Your power is to conjure light?” I ask.

  He takes a step back. “Where did that come from?”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, unabashedly staring at his chest but not for the obvious reasons. There’s something different. “It’s just the black ink on your tattoos look like they move.”

  He laughs and starts to close the space between us. He stretches his arms behind his head and looks off to the side. “If you want to check me out, you only have to say so.”

  I groan and walk around him. �
�Why do I talk to you? Let’s just find the stupid cave opening before I throw you in the river.”

  “Empty threats will get you nowhere,” he says, but he takes out the map again. He looks from the parchment to the wall of stone. He runs a hand across his close-cropped hair. I wonder what it feels like to touch. I bet it feels fuzzy.

  “According to this map, we passed it. It was supposed to be directly across from the golden pier.”

  “Don’t forget we got dragged downriver for a while. How can we have passed it when all of it looks the same? We are literally between a river of souls and a hard place.”

  A loose rock falls at my feet. Above us, the bird I fed before is back, and it’s brought company. A dozen decrepit birds fly in circles above us. Feathers fall from their molting bodies, and my skin crawls when I think of the parakeet back home.

  “That’s why you don’t feed the strays,” Nova says.

  I ignore him and focus on our rocky problem. In desperation, I start pushing my hands against the wall, hoping to find a secret passageway. When nothing gives, I slump down to the black sand.

  “Maybe we could try to climb up and over?” I suggest.

  Nova takes his T-shirt from his back pocket and uses it to mop the sweat from his face.

  “It’s too smooth and vertical,” he says. “There isn’t much to grab on to. Besides, we don’t have any rope. I don’t know about you, Ladybird, but there are only so many times I can fall from great heights without breaking my beautiful face.”

  “Helpful,” I say.

  More and more birds start to land around us, their wrinkled, sagging necks cocking their heads to the side.

  “I don’t think that’s a good sign,” Nova says, now focusing on the birds.

  I focus on the shadow that passes over us. My heart leaps when I think it’s the eclipse. I look at the gloomy, dark sky. The moon and sun are on opposite ends of the sky.

  I tilt my head back farther still. Creatures climb down the wall, gracefully defying gravity. Black claws dig into stone and tails wag like whips. A low growl, followed by the yowl of a predatory feline. Lips pull back to reveal foot-long canines. Green eyes glow against the gray sky.

  “What is that?” I ask him, taking careful steps backward until I collide with Nova. I swear I can hear his heart racing right through his chest. He holds his knife with a white-knuckled fist.

  “I’m going out on a limb and say it’s what you get if a saber-toothed tiger and a snake demon had a baby.”

  The giant feline advances on us. I gasp and hold out my hand to summon a soft pulse of energy. It’s a weak, thin ripple of magic that vanishes as quickly as it appears. I’m still recovering from my last use of magic.

  “Alex, get down!” Nova shouts.

  I throw myself back on the ground. Nova’s knife hits the saber-toothed thing straight through its forehead, burying in it down to the blue hilt. The beast writhes, falling straight down the wall and onto the black sand. Then, it pushes itself up. It shakes its head and flings the blade from the gash. The blade tumbles in the sand, warped into nothing but a piece of scrap.

  I scramble back and pull my dagger from my ankle. I’ve never used a knife for anything other than butterflying a chicken cutlet and then during my Deathday. It feels foreign in my hand.

  Nova raises his mace, and we stand shoulder to shoulder. We can’t keep backing up because that’ll take us into the river. But we can’t walk forward because there is nothing but wall and the flock of molting birds all around us.

  “I count three more cats,” Nova says.

  “Cats is an understatement.”

  Nova grins. “There could be more. I’ll distract them with my light, and then you run.”

  “Don’t be stupid. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  Wings flap and birds caw and the sky churns. The rock wall begins to tremble.

  Nova looks at me, and I reach for him. I can try to channel my magic into him. We are better together, stronger. But he does it without me. His light is a brilliant thing that erupts around us. It’s like a flare, and it dies just as quickly.

  Then, a new kind of pain rips through me. Sharp talons dig into my shoulders. I’m pulled into the air in a hard jerk. I can hear the rattling sound of stones tumbling against each other, and I realize, the wall is opening up.

  I scream for Nova. Veins of light swirl around his forearms, leaving behind black burned marks. They’re not tattoos but marks from his magic…

  Nova falls face forward on the sand. The birds around us take flight, squawking and zooming around in a wide, protective circle. Maybe the pain is making me delirious or maybe I’m just not built for this land, but it looks like one of them shifts in midair. Her wings elongate to a massive wingspan, and hands with claws form at the tips. A long neck gives form to a human head with a black beak and black eyes. It isn’t until she’s looking at me that I realize I’m six feet in the air.

  The bird woman flies to Nova and grabs him by his shoulders. She opens her beak and a terrible cry sends a ripple across the river. It’s so powerful that the beasts tumble against each other. It takes them seconds to get back up. They get low to the ground, ready to pounce. The biggest one opens its mouths to reveal a long, red tongue.

  More and more of the fowls shift into half-bird, half-women form. They fight and slash their talons at the saber-toothed demons.

  Somewhere in the back of my head, I know these bird women are avianas. Lula used to tell me if I didn’t give her my dessert, she’d feed me to them. As they drag us into the open mouth of a cave—the Caves of Night—I can’t help but think that, unwittingly, my sister kept her promise.

  17

  When mortals defy the Deos,

  heads roll from sunset to dawn.

  —from the journal of Fernandio Neruda

  The aviana’s claws dig deep into my shoulders. My screams echo in the sparkling caves. The caves! Nova wasn’t wrong. There was an opening. It was just hidden. The walls tremble as the entrance shuts, leaving us to fly in the dark. There is only the flap of wings, the rush of water, and the scent of burning cedar.

  When I stop struggling against the creature and let myself be carried, it’s just like what I imagine the free fall of a skydive to feel like. My eyes adjust to the hazy, yellow glow coming up ahead. The insides of the caves are dazzling, like someone chipped away pieces of rock to reveal the glittering bits of gold and crystals that pulse with light.

  The ground gets closer and closer, and we aren’t slowing down. The aviana releases me, and I fall to the ground with a hard thud.

  “Alex!” Nova shouts.

  I open my eyes despite the pain in my skull to see his hands reaching for me. The bird woman carrying him swoops down past me. I hold my hand out, but everything aches. I manage to graze his fingers, and then he’s gone, into another dark hall.

  “Where are you taking him?” My voice is as weak as the pulse of my magic.

  I can’t sit up, so I fall right back on the ground. A loose stone digs into my side. From down here, I can see the layout of the cave. The ceiling goes up so high there’s no telling where it ends. The avianas flock to large cavities in the stone walls, and I realize those are their nests.

  A few feet away from me is an enormous statue. I recognize the likeness from Rose’s tarot deck—El Cielo, god of the sky. He’s always depicted with great wings and a crown of feathers around his smooth, bald head. Here, he stands with arms stretched out toward the sky and his wings stretched down to his taloned feet.

  The large bird that carried me lands at my feet, blocking my view of the statue. Her large talons change into feet with feathers growing at the ankles. I catch a glimpse of strong, muscular legs before the pain in my head forces me to shut my eyes again.

  “We do not allow men in the caves,” she says.

  I finally succeed on my
third attempt at sitting up. Four other avianas flank the one who carried me. In their half-human, half-bird forms, they look even more battered and beaten than before the attack. One of them looks feverish and weak but tries to remain upright.

  “What were those creatures?” I ask, rubbing my shoulder.

  The bird woman studies me with her unnerving gaze. “Saberskins. They hunt along the wall. Not that there is much to hunt anymore. What is your business here, bruja?”

  Her face is more human now, though her striking features retain the likeness of a bird of prey. She’s terrible and wonderful to look at, with soft, bronze wings that grow from the bottom of her arms and reach down to the ground. I wonder if they ever get tired from such a weight. Instead of hands, she’s got long, red talons. When she sets her hands at her sides and paces on the natural dais around me, I notice her hourglass figure, naked except where feathers form natural sort of clothes. Her movements remind me of a hawk watching its prey with luminous, dark eyes. Unlike the others, she’s strong, and I can tell without a doubt that she’s their leader.

  “My friend and I,” I say, “we’re trying to get across the caves.”

  “Is that all you seek?” She’s almost completely human now, with the exception of her bronze wings.

  I remember the story Nova told Oros. Lie, I can hear Nova saying. Then why are my words failing me?

  “We wish to get across the Caves of Night.”

  “Why?” She leans closer to my face. This close, I can see myself in the dark pools of her eyes.

  “To—to get to the Poison Garden,” I say. “We do not wish to harm you.”

  “Harm us?” The aviana’s wings expand. “We are avianas, Daughters of El Cielo and Guardians of His Treasures. You cannot harm us. Nor are you the first mortal to come into these lands to attempt to reap its wealth and die on its paths.”

  When I look at the other avianas, I don’t see guardians. I see hunger and weakness. If it weren’t for their leader, we wouldn’t have survived the saberskin attack.