Labyrinth Lost (Brooklyn Brujas #1)(28)

“Like it or not, Ladybird,” he tells me, “we have to trust each other just enough. Not completely, but enough to know that I need you alive to get my money and you need me alive to get your family back.”

“Good point,” I say darkly. I have to keep reminding myself that Nova isn’t helping me out of the pureness of his magical heart. When he looks at me, he sees a dollar sign.

And when I look at him, what do I see?

A boy with a handy switchblade, a borrowed mace, and more tattoos than you’d expect on someone so young. It makes him look older than seventeen, older than his dimples and casual humor suggest. I wonder what made his skin so tough, what made the cuts on his face. Our paths crossed the moment Lula’s boyfriend almost ran him over, and now they’re aligned, two freight trains side by side. When do we collide?

My face flushes as he pulls up the hem of his shirt to dry off his face, but between the heat and the rain, it’s a lost cause, and he takes it off completely. His muscles are bulky and taut, like he works hard to stay so big. But his muscles aren’t the most fascinating part. On his solar plexus is a tattoo of a sacred heart surrounded by thorny rosebuds and a brilliant starburst. Around it are more tendrils of black ink, same as his hands.

“Let’s get one thing straight.” He leans forward and a part of my brain tells me to pay attention to the way his abdominal muscles flex when moves toward me. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been here, and I made that clear. It’s fifty percent suicide. But if we don’t do this, you’re already dead. And if I don’t try to get that money, I’m dead too. Let’s get out of this rain forest and through the Caves of Night. Then we can bite each other’s heads off trying to pick a fork in the road.”

“Fine,” I say, snatching my water bottle from him.

“And another thing,” he says. “No one needs to know the details of why we’re here. Whatever or whoever we come across, just lie.”

That should be easy enough.

Above us, a flock of the fat birds perching on a branch snap awake. Their eyes glow amber, their howls so human that it makes my skin go cold. They spread their wings and vanish deeper into the rain forest.

There’s that smell of cinder again.

“Do you smell that?” I ask him.

Nova grabs my arm. He looks up to the canopy. There’s smoke coming from a plant where a beam of light shines down. A pop of flame makes me jump. It burns fast and hard until there is nothing but a patch of ash where the plant used to be.

“Selva of Ashes,” I whisper. For ashes, you need fire.

Another pop at our feet. We jump back. Nova stands directly under a beam of light. I can feel the anxiety bubble in my chest, and I scream. I push him with a blast of my magic. He hits the trunk of a tree. The place where he just stood goes up in roaring flames.

Nova jumps around the fire and grabs my hand. He doesn’t have to say it. My legs are already moving.

We run.





14


Rain of fire, birth of ash.

Born again, the gods will clash.

—Song of El Fuego, Bringer of Flame

The Selva of Ashes goes up in flames around us.

No wonder birds and insects were traveling upward. But Nova and I can’t climb. I’m not even sure if we’re going the right way, but I don’t stop running. We race across the beams of light, their heat pulsing against the ground. Even though I know it’s coming, I can’t stop from jumping every time a blaze of fire pops. It’s like we’re surrounded by land mines.

I thank La Mama that I decided to join the track team last year. I jump over fallen trunks like hurdles. I pump my arms at my sides. I’m surprised Nova is keeping pace beside me, and I can’t help but think that he’s had some practice at running from things too. He shoots me a challenging smile. He nods to the light ahead, where a line of trees in silhouette marks the end of the rain forest.

I run across a beam of light just as it explodes. It burns my shoulder, but I keep going. Fire is catching up behind us, and it licks at our feet. I feel the burn in my legs, my lungs, but the end is so close, I throw myself out of the line of trees.

Nova falls beside me.

We’re out of the Selva, and the light-gray sky feels infinite.

“Oh my gods,” I say, sprawled out on the ground.

“And here I didn’t think I’d get in my daily cardio,” he says between heavy breaths.

I cough and get up. My adrenaline is buzzing and so is the magic around us. The entire floor of the Selva has caught flame. We watch as the underbrush burns quickly to ash. Then it stops. Then, the sky breaks and the rain comes and washes away the black ashes, revealing dark-green buds.

“Why is this land separate from the rest of Los Lagos?” I ask Nova.

“Not sure.” He’s still trying to catch his breath. “Let me add that to my list of Los Lagos mysteries.”

“Okay, genius.” I put a hand on my hip. “How do we get across the river?”

Now that the Selva of Ashes is behind us, we can only look forward. At the end of the rocky bank is a silver river that gleams in the gray light. The river rushes in an undulating current. On the other side is a black line of caves. The Caves of Night look more like an impenetrable wall. The bank, the river, and the caves—they all go east to west as far as my eyes can see. It makes the land feel so expansive, like it’ll never end no matter how far we walk.