Cece Rios and the Desert of Souls Read online

  Ever since I was seven years old, the idea of capturing a criatura’s soul had reminded me of Tzitzimitl’s pained gasp. But I couldn’t let that stop me. I held on to Mamá’s advice and tried to drown out Tzitzimitl’s memory. As I took the next turn, a deep, grating snarl filled the shadows beyond my light.

  “Pesky, pesky, human,” a voice came from the darkness.

  I jumped backward as the slithering sound grew louder and closer. Just out of reach of my torch’s light, two large yellow eyes opened. The pupils were pin-thin slits.

  My mouth went dry.

  “The human is quiet,” the hiss continued. A snake criatura? I hated snakes! “Does it want to fill Cantil Snake’s stomach?”

  No, I did not.

  The eyes moved closer, their narrow glint so monstrous I felt as if I were falling backward into a nightmare. The figure paused in the light. He looked mostly human, but like all criaturas, the animalistic features were a dead giveaway. It was easy to tell what he was by his scaled face, flat nose, and snake eyes.

  His gaze fell to my black knife, and his sharp teeth came into view. “A bruja?” There was more venom in that word than in his fangs. “You will never take Cantil Snake’s soul!” he cried.

  His body coiled up. With a hard pop, his shoulders came out of their sockets, his spine stretching apart so he loomed over me. His jaw unhinged, his mouth widening and poised directly over my head, ready to swallow me whole.

  My mind finally jolted back to life. Plant your feet, I remembered Mamá’s words. Keep your stance. Let them come to you. When it is near victory, a criatura is its most vulnerable.

  He lunged down at me. I gripped the knife, locked my knees, and braced myself to take his soul.

  “Stop!” someone cried out behind me.

  A dark figure rushed up behind me and seized Cantil Snake by his open jaw. Cantil Snake screamed as the stranger yanked him down to the ground, and the two started thrashing across the floor. Pebbles shook free of the ceiling. The ground rumbled. My torch fire gave off a wicked spark. I stood rooted to the spot, just trying to keep track of the wild fight, until they slammed against the far stone wall.

  Now that they’d stopped moving, I could get a glimpse of the new person. White and black hair. No, red hair. No, brown hair—maybe gray? From what I could tell, it was nearly every color, and his body was lean, tall, and strong.

  Especially the forearm he had at Cantil Snake’s neck, pinning him to the stone.

  Cantil Snake’s nostrils flared. “They always said you were a human-lover.” He glared at the boy whose face remained just out of reach of the light.

  This looked like a pretty ugly fight, and the argument was something I didn’t understand. Maybe I should just . . . go?

  I tiptoed back a couple of steps until I noticed the rock in Cantil Snake’s hand. The boy had him pinned pretty securely, but if Cantil Snake popped his shoulder out again, he could easily smash the boy’s head in with the large piece of granite.

  “Watch out!” I cried.

  Cantil Snake’s arm burst out from the stranger’s hold, and he swung the stone toward the boy’s temple. I launched forward and body-slammed the boy to the ground. Cantil Snake’s stone grazed the top of my head as we fell, missing the boy. My torch and knife tumbled out of my grip as we hit the floor.

  I barely had time to grab my tools and turn around before Cantil Snake was on me. His wide, fanged mouth opened in my face and hissed. I squeezed my eyes shut, angled my knife, and smashed my torch into the side of Cantil Snake’s face.

  He went sprawling to the ground between me and the stranger, covering his face. Holy sunset. Did I just actually take out a criatura?

  Cantil Snake reared up again. “I’m going to kill you for that!”

  Okay, no. Not yet.

  He lunged toward me. I squealed as he got near enough for me to see the snake carved into his soul stone. I aimed for it with my knife. With a flick of my blade, the strap snapped. His soul necklace unraveled.

  “No!” he roared.

  I kicked his stone far down the tunnel, away from where I’d come. He whirled around on his knees and scampered after it. The stone echoed until it, Cantil Snake, and his scream faded into the darkness.

  I dropped the knife and torch. Slowly, the adrenaline faded. Wow. I had just survived a criatura attack. I started to smile. Wait—I’d just survived a criatura attack and hadn’t gotten his soul. I slapped my hands to my face. No! I needed a criatura! He’d been that close, and I’d kicked his soul away instinctually. What was wrong with me?

  Footsteps came from behind me. I turned and found the boy who’d attacked Cantil Snake standing in the light of the torch. He shook out his multicolored hair, disguising his face. His breath steamed in the cold darkness.

  Finally, his eyes flashed to mine. They were like gold coins, bright as fire with none of the warmth. Oh. He wasn’t just a boy.

  He was a criatura.

  “I knew it was you,” he said, like he knew me.

  I froze beneath the intense stare. He’d tried to take down Cantil Snake just moments before. Did that mean he was going to let me go? Or that I was next?

  8

  The Soul Debt

  Now that the young criatura stood in the light, I could see he was around my age. He had the jaw and shoulders of a thirteen-year-old at least, though he was taller than most of the boys I knew. He wore a worn red shirt that looked like it’d been stolen from someone bigger and a pair of tight tan charro pants, with holes interrupting the twisting patterns that lined the sides.

  It was almost easy to think he was just a human boy—until his burning gold eyes and sharp white canines caught the light. I froze and held my breath. Maybe if I didn’t move, he wouldn’t attack.

  He looked me up and down. “I didn’t expect you to save yourself.”

  “Um,” I tried not to wheeze. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  His white eyebrow lifted, the black one resting low. “Hurt you? Wait—you don’t recognize me?”

  I stared. He stared. There was an awkward silence.

  I squinted. “I don’t talk to criaturas often, so I feel like I’d remember meeting you . . . But it’s, uh, nice to meet you now. I’m Cece. Thanks for—um, what were you doing back there exactly?”

  He folded his arms. “Saving you. Or I would have if you hadn’t shoved me.”

  “So, you weren’t trying to kill me? Que bueno.” I tried to smile. He looked alarmed, so it must not have come across right.

  “Are you okay?” He took a step forward.

  I stumbled back. “Hey! Keep your distance.”

  He dropped his hand and his concerned expression at the same time. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Wow, that changes my mind completely!” I frowned. “I’m no idiota. My parents taught me not to talk to criaturas.” He didn’t need to know how bad I was at listening.

  The left side of his mouth curled up. “But you are talking to me.”

  Agh! Moon above! He was right. “So, you admit you’re a criatura!”

  “Naturally.” He grinned mischievously, and a pair of sharp canines poked out from between his lips. “This is the perfect vacation spot for criaturas who’ve escaped Devil’s Alley; there haven’t been humans here since the silver dried up.” He picked up the torch where I’d dropped it, and the humor in his face dissolved as he held it out to me. “Except for you, I guess. The one human I owe a debt to.”

  I blinked. He owed me a what?

  He saw my face and sighed. “Coyote. I’m the Criatura of the Coyote. The coyote you fed on the night Devil’s Alley opened?”

  The name brought images into my mind, from the cover of our familia’s legend book to the scraggly coyote I’d found in the alley during Noche de Muerte. I held my breath. My favorite legend had appeared right before my eyes? It was almost too much to believe. “Wait—the legendary Coyote, the Great Namer? You were the coyote I fed a buñuelo to?”

  “Keep up, Cece.”
He frowned and held out the torch. “Anyway, I was starving, and you fed me. So, I’m in your debt.”

  I took the offering. Beyond the flame, he looked away.

  “I’m guessing you don’t like to be in people’s debts,” I said.

  He frowned even harder. “Especially Naked Man’s.”

  I may have only just met him, but he didn’t exactly live up to the legend of the Great Namer I’d always admired. I guess it didn’t help that I’d always imagined him as a giant man with a coyote’s head, not as a scruffy teenager.

  “Wait.” A flare of hope shot up inside me. “Does that mean you have to pay me back?”

  He slouched. “You couldn’t have just let me save your life. No, you had to save your own life and mine.” He shook his head. “I don’t appreciate that.”

  I gaped. “He was going to hurt you!”

  “The point is,” he snapped, “now I owe you not only for the buñuelo, but also for stopping Cantil Snake.” He slouched. “This is turning into a really bad week for me.”

  He thought his week had been bad? I’d lost my sister, my hair, and obviously any good sense I’d had before all this started.

  “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “I’ll give you an easy way to pay me back. I need a criatura to enter the Bruja Fights.”

  He lifted his white eyebrow again. “So that’s why you are here.”

  “I need a criatura to enter,” I rushed ahead. “I have to win so I can get into Devil’s Alley—”

  He turned his back. “Forget it. Whether you saved my life or not, I’m not helping a wannabe bruja.”

  I lurched forward and grabbed his wrist. He tugged, and even that small movement sent me stumbling over myself. Holy sunset, he was strong! I dropped the torch and locked my arms around his elbow.

  “Please, I have to save my sister!” I said.

  He stopped. “What does that have to do with the Bruja Fights?”

  I peeked up at him. He stared down at me, chin rigid. But he waited. Listening.

  My heart shivered with hope. “I have to win the Bruja Fights so I can rescue my sister from Devil’s Alley. Unless you’re kidnapped by one of the leaders of Devil’s Alley, winning the Bruja Fights and being admitted as a bruja is the only way for a human to enter, right? Well, El Sombrerón stole my sister, and it’s my fault because”—my breath hitched—“I ran off and she came to get me. It’s my fault.”

  Deep orange torchlight flickered across his unmoving expression. His free hand suddenly reached for my head. I winced, but it landed softly, balancing on my prickly hair.

  “You shaved your head,” he said.

  That’s right. I’d almost forgotten he’d seen me before, when my hair was long. It was eerie realizing this wasn’t our first meeting, however much it felt like it.

  “I have to look like a bruja to enter the fights,” I explained. “But I—I don’t want to be a bruja. I just have to pretend so I can get into Devil’s Alley with the yearly bruja winners, and then get my sister back.”

  He tilted his head, considering. The mannerism was so much like the curious, watchful coyote in the alley, I could finally see how they were one and the same. He didn’t say anything for a long time. I tried to hold back the tears filling my vision, but one leaked down my face. I didn’t brush it away, not daring to let go of Coyote’s arm.

  His eyes grew cold and low. “If you’re the kind of person who’d cry over your familia, you won’t last in the Bruja Fights, let alone in Devil’s Alley.”

  Heat rose in my cheeks, and I finally let go of his arm. I stood as straight as I could and lifted my head to meet his gaze.

  “I know,” I said, and my voice wavered. “But I’m going to try. Whether you say yes or no, I have to try.”

  He sighed. “Do you understand what you’re asking?”

  I clutched my bag’s strap, trying desperately to keep more tears from falling. They slipped down my cheeks anyway.

  “Your life will never be normal again,” he said. Flickering torchlight haunted his gold eyes. “Those who rule Devil’s Alley will test you in the Bruja Fights. And if we make it inside Devil’s Alley, El Sombrerón will never let your sister go without a fight to the death. And even if you managed to defeat him, defying El Sombrerón means defying El Cucuy, the king of Devil’s Alley.”

  My breath froze between my lips.

  “El Cucuy will not let you steal back what his second-in-command, El Sombrerón, has taken without punishing you.” He uncrossed his arms. “Can you risk your life, Cece?”

  That was a big question. Could I provoke the most powerful criaturas in existence? I couldn’t even dance the Amenazante dance. I couldn’t even stand up to my father or explain myself to my mother.

  But despite all that, I knew two things: Juana was my sister—and she needed me.

  Coyote started to pull away. “Naked Man never changes.”

  I caught his hand. “I’ll do it!”

  My voice echoed through the stone tunnel. Coyote looked down at where my hand touched his. His mismatched eyebrows tugged together. My blood raced, and the hard, steady beat of my heart helped solidify my resolve.

  “I will,” I said again, still clasping Coyote’s hand. “I will do anything I have to do to save her from El Sombrerón, or Ocean take me.”

  His eyes widened. Thank the Sun god—he must know how important that oath was to my people. I trembled, looking up at him as tears filled my eyes again.

  “You’re crying,” he said. “But you mean it. Don’t you?”

  I nodded. “Sí.”

  He turned his head away. “Maybe . . . I can put things right this time,” he said quietly.

  I wasn’t sure whether he was answering me or talking to himself. To be safe, I said nothing and held on to him so he wouldn’t run away.

  “Well,” he said, louder now. “You did save my life.”

  I resurrected a smile. “So you’ll help me?”

  “Ugh.” His shoulders slumped. “I’m going to regret this.”

  He stooped down and picked up the fallen torch, handing it to me. As I palmed it again, he grabbed a leather strap hiding beneath his red shirt and tugged it out. A stone pendant caught the torchlight as he whipped off the necklace and held it out to me.

  His soul.

  My mouth opened in wonder.

  “To own a criatura,” he said, “you must carry their soul. From now on, your pain is my pain; your will, my will.” His nose wrinkled slightly. “Take it. And whatever you do, don’t lose it.”

  The soul spun in the air. With a reverent breath, I cupped my hand beneath it. Coyote let it fall into my palm.

  It was warm and, for a moment, a vibration fluttered through it almost like a nervous heartbeat. I pulled it close to my chest and angled it in the light. It was a simple reddish-brown stone, not even large enough to fill my palm. It was smooth but for one deep, large scratch running horizontally across its back, and the jagged, carved lines of a coyote howling at an invisible moon on the front. I could almost hear the lonesome sound.

  So this was the soul of the legendary Coyote.

  “Congratulations,” Coyote said. “You’re an apprentice bruja now. Happy?”

  I squeezed his soul briefly and slung the necklace around my neck. It sat below my collarbone, heavy and warm and full of all my hopes. The moment it touched my skin, a rosy fire pressed down into my bones. I took an unsteady breath as the sensation rolled through me.

  His soul was tangible—more than just a smooth rock against my skin. It was the sensation of who he was. It was an awkward, new presence seated beside my heart, deep in my chest.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Because I was one step closer to winning the Bruja Fights, one step closer to Devil’s Alley, and one step closer to rescuing my big sister.

  Coyote’s nose wrinkled a second time. “You’re crying again. I don’t know what to do—stop.”

  I wiped my eyes and laughed. The joyful sound echoed in the tunnel. I im
agined it reaching Juana, on the other side of Devil’s Alley’s hidden entrance, telling her not to give up hope.

  I was coming for her.

  9

  The First Fire

  By the time Coyote and I climbed out of the mine, the moon hung high in the sky. The desert air was chilly now, just a bit too icy to bear. I rubbed the cold tips of my ears and shivered. Coyote pouted at me like human frailty was annoying.

  He strolled forward. “So where are we going, bruja?”

  “Cece,” I said and started after him. “I know you know my name. If you’re going to be my criatura, you might as well use it.”

  He gave me a cold, sideways glance. The moon caught his hair and lit the white parts with a ghostly glow, leaving the gray and brown patches dark.

  “Is that a no?” I asked.

  “You can force me to say yes, if it will make you feel better.” His black eyebrow lifted in a taunt.

  “I don’t even know how to do that.” I glanced around the landscape, trying to get my bearings. Tierra del Sol was to the north, where small lights roamed the town. Oh, that’s right. During the criatura months, the police enacted a curfew and nighttime patrols to keep everyone safe. “Do you think you can get us back inside my house without my parents noticing?”

  He pouted at me.

  “Please? I really don’t want to spend the night in the desert.”

  He grinned. “What? You afraid of the big, wide, scary, dark desert?” He wiggled his clawed fingers at me.

  I leaned away from him. “Mother Desert doesn’t exactly like humans the way she does criaturas, you know.” I frowned and finished dusting sand off my jacket. “Can you get me home or not?”

  He sighed, crouched, and motioned for me to climb up his back. I hesitated. He gestured more impatiently. With a sigh, I came over and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He straightened up.

  “So, to Tierra del Sol?” he asked as he pulled me into a piggyback ride.

  “Yeah. My house is northwest, around—”

  “It’s fine. I’ll be able to smell it.”

  And suddenly, he took off, and the dust fell far behind us. We practically flew through the landscape, streaking past Criatura’s Well, weaving through the Ruins, and jumping onto roofs once we hit the town proper. I dug my fingers into his shoulders. He was so fast, I was sure my stomach had blown out of my body about a mile ago.