Labyrinth Lost (Brooklyn Brujas #1)(41)



Magical trade is all about technicalities, I recall Nova’s words.

“I assume you want your freedom?”

“I am not your prisoner, and neither is Rishi. We did nothing wrong. Nova was the thief, and you took back the gems. I’ll trade Jesla’s life for Nova’s.”

Madra doesn’t blink. “Why would you trade for such a man?”

“That is my business.”

“Very well. And the other two?”

“You will tell us the safest path to the labyrinth.” I’m starting to sweat under her steady gaze.

“That I cannot promise. These lands change as power changes. Lands that were safe could be under the Devourer’s control. There is much we cannot see from within the caves.”

“Then you’ll look at our map and update it. Even you must know the terrain from your hunts.”

“Hadrigal’s life for the map,” Madra says. “What will you ask for the third?”

“Nothing,” I say. “I will heal her because it’s the right thing to do.”

Madra bows her head to me and walks out. “If you should need me, just call.”

I’ve seen my mother and Lula heal a thousand times. I take Jesla’s hand in mine. Her wings are a deep blue, like the sky before night falls. She’s mostly in her bird form, though her eyes are still very human. A sickly green film clings to their lashes, and her breath is ragged wheezing when I press my hand to her chest. Her pulse is weak.

“What did you get yourself into?” I ask myself. I wish Lula were here. She’d know what to do in a second. She never hesitates when I’m hurt.

My mom likes to say that belief has to be unyielding. Part of what makes magic so powerful is that the bruja believes in her canto. She believes in what she’s trying to do.

“You’re really deep in it now,” Lula says.

I jolt back as my sister appears beside me. I reach for her, but she’s not like Aunt Rosaria’s haunting spirit or the damned of the Luxaria. She’s a flicker, like a screen projection.

“You’re really here.”

“Don’t touch my apparition,” she snaps, sassing me with a roll of her eyes. The rude gesture fills me with so much feeling that I want nothing more than to hug her.

“Are you…” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

“Alive? Yes, no thanks to you.” She looks behind her like she’s afraid to get caught. It’s just the three avianas and us. “At least you figured out a way to come after us. You don’t hate your family that much after all.”

“I don’t hate you.” The shame I’ve felt since I performed the canto returns. How can I face them all again?

“You don’t love us.” Lula points her finger at my chest. The anger that marks my beautiful sister’s face breaks my heart over and over. “How could you after what you did?”

“I’m trying to get you back. I’m so sorry.”

Lula turns her attention to the right, looks at someone I cannot see. She sucks her teeth. “Fine, I’ll leave her alone.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Ma, that’s who. Typical, you send your whole family, living and dead, to a next-level realm, and she still forgives you.”

“She does?”

“I won’t,” she says. “I’m never going to. Especially if you don’t hurry up and fix this mess.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m a little busy trying to figure out how to heal.”

“I’m the one who put the idea in that thick head of yours.” Her face brightens with a mischievous smile—typical Lula, so clever. “You’re a difficult one to reach. Rose’s been trying her best to help us connect with you, but it’s like you don’t want to be found. You’re impossible.”

“I get it. I’m scum.”

“Lower than scum.”

“Lula, please. I told Madra I could do this, but I don’t know how.”

Lula sighs, resigning herself to being my spiritual guide. Even she places her hand on my face. Her hand is warm and goes right through me.

“When you use your power, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

I think about the first time my powers manifested. I was afraid when Miluna attacked me. I was angry when I conjured the snake. Then there’s fear. Fear that made me fight back against the maloscuros, that made me fly across the River Luxaria.

“Fear,” I tell her. “Anger.”

“That’s usually the key to physical powers.” She walks around the room, holding her hands over Jesla’s shivering body. “Healing is different.”

I wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. “I’m having a bit of a hard time finding my Zen, if that’s where you’re going.”

“Healing isn’t just about being calm.” She’s made a full lap around the room and returns to me, hovering her palm over my chest. It makes the pain from my scars subside. “What did you feel every time I’ve mended your bones or cuts?”

“Warmth.”

“That’s love, Alex. That’s the love I have for you. Replace the anger and fear and just think about the person you’re trying to heal. You’re an encantrix. You can channel all the gifts from the Deos. They’re right at your fingertips. You have to stop being afraid of yourself.”

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