Labyrinth Lost Read online

  “Santiago?” Mom asks. “Are you Angela’s grandson?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Nova nods, losing the confident posture from before. “Angela the Great.” He says her name like he doesn’t think she’s great at all, like he doesn’t understand why people call her that. My mom doesn’t seem to catch that, but I do.

  “I ordered some of her sweets for Alejandra’s Deathday next week,” Mom continues.

  “Alejandra,” he says, and I realize I never told him my name.

  “Alex,” I correct him.

  “I work at the bakery,” he tells me. “I’ll probably be the one delivering them.”

  “Oh, you’ll have to stay!” Mom says.

  I tug on my mom’s sleeve, but she slaps my hand away.

  “Alex doesn’t have many friends.” The traitor who birthed me pleads my case. “It’ll be nice to have some young blood.”

  I want to cut off my head and add it to the mounted wall. They can label it “Head of a Friendless Girl.”

  “It’s okay if you’re busy,” I say. What’s more embarrassing than your mother trying to recruit friends for you?

  “It’s okay,” Nova says, walking toward us on his way out. “I’ll probably be out on deliveries. But I got you, Ms. Carmen. I’ll have Angela throw in some extra goodies just for ya’ll.”

  My magic swirls at the base of my stomach and I yell at myself internally to quell it. He takes my mom’s hand and thanks her once again. Then he stops right in front of me. The studs in his ears twinkle like faraway stars. He lowers his face, and I don’t know if he’s going to hug me or kiss me on the cheek good-bye, but either way, I feel like a deer in headlights when he smiles. It seems sincere. Although, what do I know about boys?

  He whispers, “I’m sure you’ll look beautiful surrounded by your dead.”

  Seashells chime when he leaves.

  I look around the store to see if that was weird for anyone else, but Mom and Lady are already deep in conversation. Rose is still chatting with the mounted jackalope. Lula’s on the phone, probably with Maks.

  My mom pays for our ceremonial supplies. The blood of the guide we have to get somewhere else.

  I think of Nova saying, You’d be foolish to try.

  Except, I’d be foolish not to. Nova is wrong. It’s not like getting my period or having a growth spurt. It’s a choice, like my dad leaving, like Mom raising three girls by herself, like me studying hard to get far, far away. It hits me like a cold wave. I can choose to not have a Deathday. Can’t I?

  As we leave Miss Trix and drive to the exotic pet store, I repeat his words over and over. My mom picks out a parakeet with powder-blue feathers and a yellow part in the center shaped like a heart. I rest her cage on my lap on the way home. She flutters restlessly the entire time. A part of me wants to open the cage, roll down the window, set her free. But I don’t. I hold the cage tighter.

  For the longest time I feared this magic would get loose, and now it has. Everyone keeps telling me that this is a normal part of being a bruja. That I can’t stop this from happening.

  And for the first time, I wonder: What if I can?

  7

  Protect me from the living,

  protect me from the dead.

  —Rezo de El Guardia, Protector of All Living Things

  My answers are going to be in the Book of Cantos. As much as I hate to admit it, Nova is right. If there are hexes that give unfaithful lovers groin gangrene and potions that melt warts in the blink of an eye, then there has to be something to get rid of my powers. What will my family say? Lula and my mom, they don’t see themselves the way I do. They see themselves as beings of a higher calling. Chosen. All I see is their bruises from the recoil. It has to end somewhere, and it has to end with me.

  Rose watches me curiously on the ride home. I wonder if she can see my intent. But as Mom drives down the Brooklyn streets, Rose shakes her head and keeps watching the night fall.

  “Alejandra, are you even listening?” Lula says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I’m just saying how cute it is to see you flirting.”

  I scoff. “I wasn’t flirting.”

  “It’s okay, mi’jita,” my mom says. She turns on her signal and makes the right onto our street. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. He seems like a perfectly nice young brujo.”

  There’s no use arguing with them. I lean my head against the cool glass window. It helps the throbbing pain that starts at my temples and travels down my neck.

  “Why is it so dark out?” Lula asks. “It’s not even five.”

  Then Lula shouts as a dark shape slams into her side of the car. My mom swerves to the left, narrowly missing two cars at the intersection. Rose knocks into me, and I hold her in case it happens again.

  “What the hell was that?” I shout.

  “I don’t know.” Mom white-knuckles the wheel. She turns back, but the street is empty. We make a hard left into our driveway, crashing into the garbage bins. She shuts off the engine; her keys rattle in her hands. The streetlights down the block explode one by one. Long shadows move across the quiet neighborhood houses.

  “Control yourself, Encantrix.” But even as Lula says it, she knows I’m not doing this.

  “It isn’t me!”

  “Get in the house,” my mom shouts at us. She opens the glove compartment and riffles through the junk until she finds a flashlight.

  The street is so quiet all you can hear is our heavy breathing and quick steps. Rose grabs Lula’s hand and I grab Rose’s. We start to run up the narrow driveway to get to the kitchen entrance. I hold out my hand for my mom, but she’s still standing at the car, shining a flashlight at the side where we were hit. I let go of Rose and go back to my mom.

  “I said get in the house!” She starts to push me away, but I’ve already seen it. The car is dented. A black substance, like moss, covers the damage.

  “What is that?” I ask.

  Something lands on top of the car. In the dark, I can’t see its face, but I can hear the scratch of metal and snap of teeth. The smell of a thousand corpses lives in its mouth. It breathes me in, like a hound on a scent.

  The outdoor lights turn on. Lula and Rose are banging on the windows, screaming for us to run inside. The creature hisses at the flash of light and jumps back into the shadow before I can see the rest of it. My mom grabs my wrist and pulls me all the way into the house. We slam the door and bolt it shut.

  “What’s happening?” Lula shouts, pacing circles in the kitchen.

  Rose presses her head against the wall beside the sink, rubbing her temples over and over. “We have to go.”

  I turn to my mom. “What is that thing?”

  She doesn’t answer me. Her dark eyes are fixed on the door lock as she mumbles a prayer to La Mama.

  “Mom!” I’ve never shouted at my mother. Not ever. But I have to so she’ll snap out of it.

  “I think it’s a maloscuro. They’re shadow demons.” She squeezes the bridge of her nose, like she’s trying to remember more details but fails. “I need the Book.”

  “It’s right here,” Lula says, flipping through the Book of Cantos. “Maloscuro. Once they were brujos who broke the Mortal Laws of the Deos. El Papa broke them until they were nothing but charred skin and bone. Yet he didn’t let them die. They lived, dragging themselves on hunched backs and broken limbs, holding on to shadows. A circle of brujas banished them to Los Lagos, where they could no longer harm the mortal realm. They’re attracted to great power. Light can ward them off but…”

  “But?”

  Lula look up at me from the page. “It cuts off.”

  “These were the things Uncle Julio warned were under our beds?” I ask. “How sweet.”

  “That’s not funny,” Lula snaps. She slams the Book shut and points at the door. “That thing is still
out there. We have to do something! We can’t just sit around.”

  I’ve never seen Lula so afraid.

  “My Circle blessed this house,” my mom says, wiping her brow with the back of her trembling hand. “It can’t enter here. We can wait it out till sunrise.”

  “Alex, use your power,” Lula tells me.

  “I don’t know how!” There’s a tight pain in my belly and a greater pain in my chest.

  The house rattles as a force slams into the structure. Picture frames and dishes shatter as they fall to the floor.

  “Lula!” my mom shouts. “Get the candles and Papa Philomeno’s finger bone. Alex, bring me the sage. Rose—Rose?”

  Rose slides down to the ground. She shuts her eyes and throws her glasses across the floor. A bloody tear runs down her cheek. My mom bends down to brush Rose’s matted hair back. Rose’s hands are spread out at her sides. Her eyes widen and dilate, until there is only black. A strangled cry comes from my little sister.

  “Alex, the sage!”

  I run into the storage closet and grab a sage stick. Then I remember. I rip open the box with my father’s things. I dig through old clothes and papers until I find it. A mace. The handle is made of wood and steel. The spikes are consecrated silver metal.

  When I run back to the kitchen, Rose begins to speak.

  “Rosie?” I edge closer to her.

  Her eyes settle on me. She trembles with the spirit that’s taken over her body. The lights blow out all around us, and my little sister points to me and says in a stranger’s voice, “It’s you. I’ve found you.”

  “What does that mean?” Lula asks my mom.

  I start to reach for Rose, but the kitchen window shatters as the maloscuro breaks through, the force of it knocking me on my back. Its sinewy body separates the three of us from Rose. The creature turns its head to me. Tar-black skin that looks hard to the touch covers long limbs that end in claws. It slinks forward on all fours, leaving black marks on the tiles. The face is the worst. Even with its wide mouth distorted by curved teeth and a crooked nose that sniffs for my scent, I can still see where it was human once.

  When we were children, they would scare us to sleep with stories of the maloscuros under the bed. But we aren’t like normal families. Our monsters are real. Sometimes we are the monsters.

  The creature hisses, a long, curling tongue licks the fear in the air. Lula grabs a plantain mallet from the sink and hurls it. The maloscuro growls as the mallet hits it square in the face.

  “Stop! You two, get your sister and get out of here,” Mom says, taking the mace from me. She stands in front of us like a human shield. She whistles, long and slowly. The maloscuro twists its long neck toward my mother. Its gleaming, black eyes are rimmed with diseased-yellow rings. With every sharp whistle, the beast follows my mother’s movement toward the back door.

  “Mom,” Lula cries. Fat tears run down her face.

  At the sound of Lula’s voice, the creature snaps out of the trance. It snarls at Lula, raking long, black claws across her face. We all scream as Lula falls to the ground. She presses her hand to her bloody face and shuts her eyes against the pain. The maloscuro raises its claws for a second strike, and I know I have to do something. My heart feels like it’s in my throat, beating a scream from my mouth. I jump in front my sister, my crazy, rude, wonderful, beautiful sister.

  The air in the kitchen thickens like fog. Fear takes ahold of me. I fear this is my fault. I fear this power will only bring terrible things. I fear this is only the beginning.

  I take everything I’m afraid of and shove it aside. It’s like my body isn’t even mine, a bright burning light surrounds me, flows through me and hits the maloscuro. I fall on my knees, shaking as I hold the barrier between the creature and us.

  The kitchen rumbles with thunder. The charge pulls from my stomach. It both tickles and hurts, an invisible chord that links me to the magic and the maloscuro. I feel its essence and my skin crawls. It’s malign, unwanted, death.

  I cry out as my control on the shield weakens. The creature needs only a little bit of weakness to get in. A burning pain slashes across my chest and then instantly goes cold. The maloscuro freezes in place. Its wicked, wide mouth is open, like a bear trap ready to snap around my head. The rotting smell makes me gag.

  “You froze it!” my mom marvels.

  “I can’t hold it!” Sweat drips down my face. Blood drips from the bleeding cuts on my chest.

  “Get back,” my mother says. She raises the mace over her head and screams to the Deos. She swings down hard. The spikes crunch against the maloscuro’s skull. A wet splatter hits my face. She hits it again and again. When she brings down the mace for a final blow, our whole house trembles.

  8

  Shell of sea and cinder flame,

  show us the enemy to blame.

  Dirt of earth and wing of skies,

  stop his heart and blind his eyes.

  —Protection Canto, Book of Cantos

  When I wake up, I’m on the living room floor. Rose is laid out beside me, a pillow tucked under her head. Lula’s on the couch next to me.

  “You both passed out,” Lula says. Her knees are drawn up to her chest. Her eyes are red and puffy. I don’t think I’ve seen Lula cry this hard since Tristan Hart, the swim team captain, broke up with her last year.

  “You’re healed.”

  “Ma did it.” Lula covers the side of her face with her hair. “There’s a scar.”

  I put my hand on her arm, but she pulls away. I wonder if she blames me.

  “Where’s Ma?” I try to sit up, but everything hurts. When I look down, I see my shirt is ripped open. Four red scars mark my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “Your cut was deeper than mine. We couldn’t heal it completely. It’ll scar too.”

  I don’t care about a scar. I care that my family is alive.

  “Lula…” As my eyes adjust, I can see the bruises across her chest, the dark circles around her eyes.

  “Don’t. We had to heal you. We’re blood, Alex.” She hesitates but then holds her hand for me to take.

  I squeeze her hand. “Thank you.”

  “Ma’s Circle is here. They’re cleansing the house and getting rid of—of that thing.”

  I stare at the ceiling, settling into the buzz on my skin. There’s a huge spot where the paint is chipping away. Dad used to say he was going to fix it, but then he left, and every day, it gets bigger and bigger.

  “I used to think Mama Juanita made them up,” I say. “Just to scare us into eating her tripe soup.”

  Lula’s laugh is wet and snotty, but it feels good to hear. “And then she’d promise a unicorn, but I’m still waiting on that one.”

  We lie still, listening to the tumble of shells across the kitchen floor. They absorb all the bad energy, and then they’re sent out to sea for cleansing. I think of the maloscuro’s head cracking open, the insides splattering all over the kitchen. I wonder if there are enough shells in the world to cleanse this house.

  “Why is my face so stiff?” I ask her.

  “Do you know what you did?” Lula asks. “You conjured an element. A storm. Mom says the energy fills your body and numbs you. I heard Lady say that we need to be careful. Some encantrixes use the recoil as a drug. They conjure just to get high or feel numb. But I know you’re not like those brujas. I know you’re not.”

  “I only feel the numb part,” I say. “And thanks for your vote of confidence.”

  When the cleansing seems to stop and the whispers of their conversations carry my name, I decide that pain or no pain, I need to stand up.

  “Alex.” Lula whispers my name like a warning. “Get back here. That’s a Circle meeting.”

  I ignore her and tiptoe to the door but don’t announce myself. I stand at the edge and listen.

  “You hav
e to move up the ceremony, Carmen,” a man tells my mother. “Before this happens again.”

  People mumble in agreement.

  “We don’t know how this happened,” my mother snaps.

  “I found a ring of black thorns tucked beneath the front and back entrances.” I recognize Lady’s smoky voice. “That weakened the barrier. When I went to touch them, they turned to ash.”

  “The maloscuros are not supposed to be able to enter this realm,” the man says, “let alone the home of a bruja as protected as this. We’ve never been attacked like this before.”

  “You were not attacked, Gustavo,” says my mom. “My daughters and I were.”

  “What happens to you,” he says, “also happens to the Circle. Now’s not the time to be stubborn.”

  My mom dismisses him with a curse. I think of her brandishing the mace. She looked ferocious, terrifying. It’s a side I’ve never seen. I wonder what else I don’t know about her.

  “We need answers,” she says. “Someone had to send that beast. They are not supposed to leave Los Lagos.”

  “Not without a portal,” Lady says. “If other realms can sense Alejandra’s potential, then I imagine this is only the beginning. An encantrix that strong has the power to change the world. Whether for better or worse is in the hands of the witch. It is the highest blessing of the Deos and needs to be treated as such. I agree with Gustavo. Alejandra’s Deathday must be sooner. Tomorrow.”

  “What about after tomorrow?” a woman’s high-pitched voice asks. “My daughter says Alejandra never attends your classes, Lady. Perhaps it’s time you ushered her in the right direction, Carmen. After what happened to Rosaria—”

  “You don’t have to remind me what happened to my sister.”

  “Peace, Carmen.” Valeria now. She’s a seer, like Rose. She brings us ham croquettes and pan de dulce once a month. “We came here to help.”