Labyrinth Lost (16 page)

I believe the Deos fight as fiercely as they love.

—Philomeno Constancio Cruz, Book of Cantos

Before we go, the adas surround me. They want to touch my hair and hands and feet. They cry and pinch themselves to make sure they aren't dreaming.

“Bless you,” an older ada tells me. Her hair is silver as starlight and her dark skin is wrinkled like a raisin. “Bless you a thousand times, encantrix.”

“You are the visage of La Tormenta, wife of El Cielo,” another tells me.

I want to pull away, to tell them that I'm still far away from winning, that this is too much. But their hope is pure, and I've let myself go without it for too long.

Then it's time to go, and I wave my final good-bye. I fight the exhaustion in my bones. Mama Juanita used to tell us the story of La Vieja Tollussa, who put herself in a hundred-year sleep to outlive her enemies. But when she woke, her body had kept aging and ached too much to move. She used the last of her power to turn herself into a caterpillar because her journey was still not complete. As we leave the Meadow del Sol and take a path east, I carry that thought with me.

Agosto leads the way, followed by Rishi and Nova. I bring up the rear in case we have any surprise attacks. Though from what Agosto says, this place is deserted. We cut through dry weeds and patches of scorched woods. It's colder here than in the other places we've traveled. Thorny vines, like black barbwire, wrap around the base of trees. Agosto calls this place the Wastelands del Este, what once was the Forest of Lights. The ground here is dry ash littered with tiny, gray pebbles, every tree an unmarked grave.

“Why are we going east?” Nova asks. He's been moody and suspicious of everything the Meadowkin have said since I freed them. Granted, he has his reasons. I ate fruit and drank the wine, but it wasn't nearly as much as Nova and Rishi. It made me forget where I needed to be. It made Nova think that his marks were healing. He walks with a semipermanent frown to my left while Rishi is unusually quiet to my right.

Agosto looks over his shoulder at Nova. “Because Kristiñe hid the path to Las Peñas. I do not have the power to find it, but I believe the encantrix can. I will take you to the Alta Bruja's temple.”

“You've been in that meadow a long time,” Nova says. “Sure you remember which way to go?”

The faun doesn't answer. As we walk by, he lets his hands touch the burned tree trunks until the palms of his hands are as black as Nova's.

“Long ago,” Agosto says, “the trees were majestic and white as the moon. When the fires came, they consumed everything. It was a living flame, out for blood.”

“What are these symbols?” I ask, tracing a rune in the bark.

Agosto hobbles over to me. “It is the mark of the starlarks. They lived in the Forests of Lights before.”

“It's hard to imagine anything living here,” Rishi says.

“All lands change for the worse when the people do not fight back. Now there is nothing left.”

“But if the Devourer drains the land dry,” Rishi says, “what'll she do for power?”

“Move on to the next realm,” Agosto says.

A dark thought grips my heart.
It is my turn to shape the galaxies.
“If she had enough power, could the Devourer leave Los Lagos?”

Agosto nods.

From here, the scenery starts to take shape. The trees give way to a steep downward slope covered in tall, yellow grass. The land undulates in rolling, purple hills that stretch into the flat lands of the horizon. Polished stones jut out of the ground, like the crooked teeth of the earth. Off in the distance, there's a ring of enormous pillars that remind me of Stonehenge. The Alta Bruja's temple. There's so much grass around the stone pillars that it looks as if the earth has begun to swallow it up.

The sky is a powdery blue with swirls of purple clouds. The breeze carries the scent of lavender and wildflowers. It's amazing that the same land that is home to the River Luxaria and the Wastelands can also be home to this. I wonder, if we return home after being gone for so long, will it look different to me?

But one look at the worry on Agosto's face takes my smile away. We get closer to the edge of the forest where we reach a dead end.

“What's wrong?” I ask.

“The land,” he says. “It's different.”

“Are you sure we didn't go the wrong way?”

Rishi bites her bottom lip. “You said it's been a while since you left the meadow. Maybe we did go the wrong way.”

I grab the map from Nova's back pocket. It's been folded and unfolded so many times, the edges are starting to fray. I find where we are on the map. The edge of the Wastelands, west of Laguna Roja. North of us should be Las Peñas, and beyond that, the heart of the land—the labyrinth. But it isn't.

“It seems Kristiñe hid more than the path,” Agosto says. “She hid the entire mountain.”

The Deos don't act for us.

The Deos act through us.

—Patricio Mortiz, Book of Cantos

“How do you move a mountain?” Nova asks.

“You know how they say if the mountain won't go to you,” Rishi says, “then you go to the mountain? Maybe the mountain really did go this time.”

I smile, and Nova gives her a long look.

The wind whips around us, like it's pushing us back to where we came from. My stomach is in a thousand tangled knots. I wet my dry lips, savoring the crisp air. The earth is dry in patches and bright green in others. Stone paths cut across the land, creating a patchwork quilt. As much as I want to laugh at Rishi's joke, I have to wonder:
Where is this mountain?

“When I was little,” I say, “my dad used to say, if he ever lost me, he'd just follow the starlight we leave behind.”

Rishi turns to me with sad eyes. “You never talk about your dad.”

“I don't know where that came from. He was talking about us running around the supermarket or the mall. Still. I just remembered.”

Rishi takes my hand in hers but lets go when Nova wedges himself between us. “Well, Captain, it's not dark enough for starlight.”

I purse my lips. “Says the boy
made
of light.”

“I'm not
made
of light,” he counters. “I conjure it.”

I roll my eyes and step closer to the edge of the cliff. The way down is steep and rocky but not unmanageable. It's quiet here except for the rush of wind and Agosto's heartbeat in my ears. I can still feel his essence from healing him, a side effect of touching someone with my power. Like when I tried to hurt Nova back home. It makes me think of what the Devourer said to me, that she could hear me because of the fear in my heart. Why can't I feel a trace of her power?

“It's strange,” I say.

“Which part?” Rishi asks.

I point to the horizon. “It's not hot here, but the air on the horizon ripples like there's a heat wave.”

“Wouldn't that be the Bone Valle?” She squints and holds her hand like a sun visor over her eyes. “If I didn't want someone to come into my lair and I was this powerful bruja, I'd make sure no one would see it.”

Look twice
. Nothing in Los Lagos is what it seems. The land is fluid, yes, but even if the Devourer destroyed the mountains of Las Peñas the way she's destroyed so many other things, we'd still be able to see the labyrinth.

I raise my hands and feel for the glamour on the land. I remember Mayi from Lula's circle uses her powers to change her eye color and straighten her nose all the time. But sometimes, when I look at her from the corner of my eye, or between blinks, the glamour reveals itself. That's small magic. Magic used for vanity doesn't end well, my mom would say.

Even from miles away, I can feel the ripple of magic across the land. I relax my eyes, and for a fraction of second, the ghost of a mountain ridge appears. Then a force pushes against me, like a punch to the gut. I gasp for air and stumble back.

“What is it?” Agosto asks, rushing to my side.

“What do your bruja eyes see?” Rishi asks dramatically. Then she gives Nova the finger when he snickers at her. So much for their truce.

“It's there. It's hidden behind a glamour.” I take Agosto's outstretched hand and pull myself up.

“What should we do?” Nova says. “We could walk straight for it. When we get closer, you can pull the glamour.”

I shake my head, unsure. If I can feel its strength from here, I don't know if it'll get any better. “What if I can't?”

“I beg your pardon,” Agosto says, “but pulling the glamour won't be enough. This is what the Devourer wants. Walk straight to the mountain and be unable to pass. Walk around it and end up in the Bone Valle. Disrupt her magic, and she'll come right at you, and I fear she'll take greater precautions now that she knows she underestimated you. You should make for the Hidden Path.”

“Um,” Rishi says, raising her hand as if we're in the middle of class. “Okay, but how do we make it the Un-Hidden Path?”

“Before our rebellion, Kristiñe created the path through the mountain to let other tribes pass. Their plan was to attack unseen. But their own people betrayed them, and as they crossed, the Devourer ambushed them from both sides. The Alta Bruja, leader of the tribe, used the last of her power to curse her traitors with immortal life. Gouged out their eyes and buried them beneath the earth. The Devourer found them and dug them up. She healed their bodies by linking their life force to the earth. She called them her ‘blind giants,' guards of the labyrinth.”

“How can they guard anything if they can't see?” Rishi asks.

“They don't need eyes to find you,” Agosto says darkly. “Sight is the most easily fooled of all our senses.”

I look at Nova, who stares at the horizon. I wonder what's going through his head right now. He looks more worried than I've ever seen him before.

I follow the twisting trails down below with my eyes. We could get lost no matter what. Los Lagos is as much a labyrinth as the Devourer's maze. As the sun and moon start to reach their peaks in the sky, nudging closer to eclipse, their light bounces off the henge below.

“Head for the temple. Alta Bruja Kristiñe erected the circle of stones and called it the Heart of the Deos.”

“Why's it always the
heart
or the
eye
of something?” Rishi asks. “You notice that? There are so many body parts that don't get enough love, like earlobes and belly buttons.”

“
Rishi
.”

She shrugs in her I'm-only-just-saying kind of way.

I find myself touching my necklace to feel the familiar weight of knowing I was connected to someone—the way I used to when I missed my dad. I'm starting to get that feeling back.

“I take it you're not coming with us,” Nova says to Agosto.

The Faun King shakes his head. “I must return to my people. Take them to safety. I fear Xara will retaliate soon.”

He takes my hand and presses it to his lips, then his forehead. “I hope to see you again, encantrix.”

I don't wait to watch him go. I take off, running down the hill.

• • •

The temple is bigger than anything it seemed from up the hill. The stones are great pillars weathered by wind and rain. I press my hand against the groves and dips in the stone, the carvings of different moon phases and constellations. Sparks flare between my fingers.

Night falls as the moon and sun pass each other across the sky and set. Stars emerge behind thinning clouds.

“This is incredible,” Rishi says, standing in the center of the temple with her hands stretched toward the sky. “My parents do all the ceremonies in the world, but I never thought I believed in anything. After this, I might have to reconsider.”

“You're going to start believing in the Deos?”

Rishi grins. “Or I could just put all my faith in you.”

I get closer to her. Her brown skin is bathed in the starlight. Her long, dark hair is windblown and wild around her shoulders. Something in the pit of my stomach falls, and when she smiles at me, it just keeps on falling.

“You can believe in anything you want,” I say, “as long as it feels right. Even seeing the things I grew up with, I wanted to pretend they weren't real. I have all the proof in the world, while some people go lifetimes hoping to see a miracle. It was easier to think I was living the wrong life. It's easier to want to be someone else.”

“I would never want you to be someone else.” She coils my hair around her finger. The ends have started to curl on their own.
Magic transforms you.
“I want you to be you. You're magic, Alex. I always thought so, even before I knew your secrets.”

Her smile is full, and hearing these things, my heart feels so full it might burst. I exhale hard, look up at the circle of stones that surround us.

Then, a bright light explodes, like the flash of a camera. Nova stands just outside the temple. The worry mark on his brow is gone. His hands glow with light.

“Find anything interesting?” he asks.

“If you think ancient witch carvings are interesting, then sure,” Rishi says. She walks toward him and leans on a stone pillar.

“Well?” Nova asks me. “Was Agosto pulling
our
chain?”

“Not funny,” I say.

“Too soon?” He shrugs a shoulder.

I ignore him and continue tracing my fingers along the stone. The magic here is strange. It isn't the dull pulse of the earth I've felt during this journey. It's like a sigh of relief.

There's a carving above eye level of a crescent moon lying sideways. The symbol of El Papa. I touch the necklace my father gave me. The next pillar has the mark of El Terroz, a square stone. A feather for El Cielo, an eight-pointed star for La Estrella, an arrow for El Corazon. I walk in a full circle, looking at all thirteen pillars—each one is for the High Deos—until I reach the sun, for La Mama. Here, the grass is wild and overgrown. I try to imagine what this place would have looked like in its prime. The grass would be green, not yellow. The stones would be newly etched, not fading. Brujas and brujos would stand in this circle.

“It feels so forgotten,” I say.

“I don't get it,” Rishi says. “If the Devourer or Xena or whatever her name is was also a bruja like the tribes who built this, why would she kill them all?”

“What do you do with an obstacle?” Nova asks.

I don't like where he's going with this. “You go around it.”

“What if it keeps moving in your way?”

“You get rid of it.” If I shut my eyes, the wind sounds like the ghosts of brujas and brujos screaming for their lives. “My mom believes in the balance of all things. She says La Mama and El Papa are a symbol of that.”

“The Deos don't create the balance,” Nova says. “We do. Their power is in us.”

“Maybe they should be more careful in giving power to people in the first place,” Rishi says.

“Then why did they choose me?” I wonder aloud.

“Don't go down that rabbit hole, Alex,” Nova says.

“I mean, no one should have this much power. No one. But here we are.”

“It could be worse,” Rishi says. “Your spell could have worked, and then who would be here to fight the Devourer?”

“I would.”

“But you stand a better chance having this great bruja power.”

I reach down for the earth and push my magic into it. The land's weak pulse answers back in greeting.
I remember you.
It doesn't speak it, but the thought pops up in my head. The land aches, as if waking from a deep slumber. I pull at the dead patches of grass. Right where my magic met the land, a tiny, green bulb appears.

I place my hands on another patch of earth. The dry, yellow grass comes away with a snap. It reminds me of Mama Juanita plucking the feathers off a chicken. It reminds me of pulling at my hair in an angry fit, alone in my bedroom with the lights turned off while I listened to my mother crying for my dad.

I remember you
, says the earth.

Green sprouts twist from the ground like newborn fingers stretching. My heart races with the boost of my magic. Instinct, as old as this place, grips me. I take a step toward the center of the temple, pulling away the dead plants from the dirt. My fingers touch something hard. A worn stone tile buried and forgotten. I jolt as sparks burn my fingertips.

I need light. I raise my hands to the overcast sky.

“La Estrella,” I say, “bless me with your light.”

The air in my chest escapes in a gust. My magic pushes against the clouds, and they race away across the night sky until there is only the blazing light of a million stars. They shine down on the circle of stones.

One by one, the symbols etched at the top of the stone pillars glow, creating a circle of light that reaches down to the ground. The newborn grass bulbs spring up higher, alive and lush.

Something's missing. I can feel my magic, taut like a guitar string, urging me to take another step. I place both feet on the stone tile. It gives under my weight, sinking into the earth, snapping into place. The light bounces off each pillar, then funnels into a single beam, crashing over me.

“I remember you,” I say as the light fills me. Every cell of my body snaps awake, and I wonder if this is what it feels like to be born once again. If this power is a good thing. If I can control it.

The skin at my throat burns where my necklace catches the light that shines down on the grass in front of me. Yellow grass breaks away, revealing another stone. The stones glow, and when I step on them, they sink. The dirt ahead clears, revealing the next step for me to take—then another and another, leading out of the circle and down a hill and then up another.

When I look up, I'm filled with so much color and joy and light. I walk ahead, lighting up the path for Rishi and Nova to follow. The path is dizzying, and just when I think I'm heading in the right direction, the stones change. I struggle for breath as the stones lead us up a new hill, then alongside patches of lavender, and then another stretch of dead earth.

After a while, I look over my shoulder. Nova's face is full of awe. His eyes are wide and looking only at me. Rishi, my little magpie, urges me to keep going.

So I do. I keep going until my muscles ache and my tongue is parched. Until the incline is too steep and we struggle to breathe. Until I see the ripple of the glamour, and I know we're closer. Until the clouds return, darker and stronger, and the light of my crescent moon disappears.