a chance that they’re alive.”

“Chance?” My legs feel like jelly. I have to sit again.

“Well, if only their souls had gone, we’d be surrounded by

corpses.”

“A chance is all I need.” I look to Nova, who traces the pages of

the map. “Are you sure?”

“Our people don’t have many other dimensions. There’s the Kingdom

of the Deos, which is our version of the Greek’s Olympus, but I always

figured that’s a fairy tale.”

“Oh that’s a fairy tale,” I say.

“The other alternative is that they’re just gone, princess.”

Los Lagos. Spirits and monsters and other realms. If there’s a

chance of saving my family, no matter how small, I have to take it.

“How do we get there?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “We?”

“You have to help me,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and

puffing out my chest. Very intimidating.

“Let’s say I help you.” He leans in closer to me, and now it’s my

turn to move back. “What do I get in return?”

“What do you get ?”

“Yeah, what do I get? In case you hadn’t noticed, everything in

life, this one, the next, and the unseen-they all have a price.”

I spit at the ground where he sits, and he chuckles. “You’re

disgusting.”

“I like you, Alex,” he tells me. He stands, and I follow. “You’re

difficult to like, you know that? But I do. You have a spark. Los

Lagos isn’t somewhere you just go unless it’s life or death, and a

brujo’s got to eat. Don’t take too long to think about it. The longer

they’re gone, the harder it’ll be to get them back. That’s just common

sense.”

My power crackles on my skin. I level my eyes to his. “I could

make you.”

Make him , whispers a little voice in my head.

“We both know you can’t control your magic enough to make me do

much.” But when he can’t hold my stare, I know that he’s afraid. Maybe

not of me, but of my power.

I hold my hands out at him. Nova steps back and readies his own. I

want to break. I want to burn up with the anger I feel toward myself.

I want to hurt him. Except…nothing happens.

Nova chuckles to prove his point.

“I hate you,” I say.

“Join the club,” he says.

What does a boy like Nova want? His arms are covered in tattoos.

His blue shirt is new, but his jeans and shoes are worn to shreds.

Other than his earrings, all the jewelry he wears is his blue prex.

“How much?” I ask.

“How much do you have?” His voice is flat. I’d expected him to be

more eager.

I think of the money in my savings account. I know very well that

my mom won’t be able to afford college for three girls, no matter how

much she prays to La Fortuna. I guess…no one will be going anywhere if

I don’t get them back.

“I have five thousand saved up.”

“You don’t know who Los Lagos belongs to. It’s not a walk in the

park. And if I’m going to be risking this pretty face…”

I curse at him. “What are you talking about? The land can’t belong

to anyone. It belongs to the Deos.”

Any trace of smile vanishes from his face. “Sure, the gods created

Los Lagos. But my gran tells this story of a creature who took over.

It lives right at the heart of the land, where the Tree of Souls is.

You saw it in the portal. The creature that you said tried to take

you.”

My heart is like a hummingbird in my chest. “What is it?”

“They call her the Devourer.”

“I’m guessing she’s not a unicorn princess.”

He puffs out a laugh and looks to the sky, like he’s asking for

patience. Then he sets his intense eyes on me and I don’t dare look

away. It feels like the most important staring contest of my life.

“You were willing to risk your power to have freedom,” he tells

me. “Instead, you banished your family to another dimension. You owe

them your life, but I don’t owe them mine.”

I can’t stand to look at him, so I turn around. “My mom could give

you more. She has some jewelry. Look around you. That’s everything.

That’s all we’ve got.”

He doesn’t try to haggle, just stands behind me. Why am I so

surprised? A guy like Nova is no good. Didn’t Mayi say he’d been

locked up? How could I even think he’d just help me? He doesn’t owe me

anything. He’s right. I owe my family my life. I owe them everything I

am.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he says after a long silence. “I’ll

get you into Los Lagos. I’ll take you to your family. But after that,

you’re on your own.”

“No. You don’t get a dime unless we make it back safely.” I turn

around to face him.

I hold out my hand. Nova takes it. The light he conjures hits me

in the gut, but I push back with my own. It’s the release I’ve been

looking for. I can feel his arm shake as I hold it, but he won’t let

go either.

“Deal.”

12

Drunk with their magics, brujas thought themselves as high as the

Deos.

So the Deos slowly took away their powers,

leaving the brujas barely above humans.

Except the encantrix. The encantrix is always Chosen.

- The Creation of Witches, Antonietta Mortiz de la Paz

While Nova runs off to gather an ingredient to create the portal,

I shower and pour peroxide on my cuts. I could try to heal them, but I

choose not to. I don’t deserve it. I change into a black shirt and

black jeans. I turn my backpack upside down and shake the contents

onto the floor.

In the pantry, I grab a couple of bread loaves, apples, a jar of

peanut butter, a dozen protein bars, and six water bottles. I start to

think about how empty the house feels. That it hasn’t been an hour and

I miss Lula’s teasing. I miss finding Rose in different corners of the

house, reading her books. I miss the smell of my mother’s midnight

teas. Their absence is a punch in the gut, and it’s hard to breathe.

There’s a noise coming from the front of the house. Nova’s back.

He runs in and shuts the door behind him. His shirt is speckled with

raindrops.

“What is that?” I motion to the shoe box rattling in his hands.

“Uhhh-”

The familiar squeak of a New York City rat answers for me.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, well you didn’t have an extra parakeet.” He sets the box on

the table. The rat scratches and bites from the inside. Nova sets one

of my mother’s good luck roosters on top of it to keep the box closed.

“I’m not paying for a comedian.”

He unbuttons his stained blue shirt, revealing a white undershirt

that clings to his muscles. He winks. Blue eyes now. “I’ll throw that

in for free.”

He grabs a mortar and pestle, then riffles through the pantry for

a handful of ingredients. He works fast and confidently, grabbing a

pinch of dirt from our cactus, a feather from the dead parakeet, ash

from the charcoal bowl, and a vial of seawater. He grinds it to a

paste and dots the cardinal scars of his face. Then he does the same

to me.

“It’s disconcerting to me that you know more about what’s in my

kitchen than I do.”

“Don’t use your big words on me, Ladybird.”

“Should we bring a dictionary on our journey?”

“Do you want me to help?”

“Do you want your money?”

He wipes his hands on a dish towel. I wonder how badly his tattoo

hurt.

“What else should I know before we go?” I ask.

“Be prepared for anything. Los Lagos is another realm. My gran

used to tell us bedtime stories about a river of souls and a bloodred

lagoon.”

“That actually put you to sleep?” I ask, zipping up my backpack.

“Nah. But it got me to behave.” His smile is all mischief. “For a

little while.”

I make a face at him. “I used to think Los Lagos was just a