“Your heart must be calling out for long-lost ones. These souls take

the shape of water, tangled forever as one. With each splash and wave,

they try to break free.”

One soul leaps from the mass, and a silver hand slaps the pier

right at my feet. She pulls herself up with one arm. Her beautiful and

ghastly face is covered by a wet tangle of matted hair. She tilts an

open mouth to the sky and howls. She breaks a hand off of the

undulating mass of souls around her. Her elbows are sharp like spikes,

and she digs them into the pier to pull herself farther up, long, pale

fingers reaching for me.

I kick, and the rubber of my sole melts when it touches her head.

My power is on alert, sensing my despair. It swells in my chest, but

something stops the magic from coming forward.

Not yet, a voice whispers.

Oros’s heavy feet run up behind me. With a swing of his golden

staff, he knocks the soul back into the mass making its way

downstream.

“Why are they like this?” I ask. “I thought souls pass on

eventually.”

“You’d think that, girl,” Oros says. He pulls on a golden rope to

bring the vessel closer to the pier. “These end up here because

they’re unable to let go of their human lives. When they try to harm

the living, Lady de la Muerte herself sends them here.”

“Are you trying to tell me that this entire giant river is made up

of souls that can’t let go of their…loves?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” The duende puts a foot on the

boat to keep it steady. “You’re seeing it with your own eyes.”

“She’s a hard one to impress,” Nova says.

Oros’s smirk is a terrible, dark thing that makes me want to turn

back and jump into the infinite portal that leads to nothing. “What

brings you young travelers to the Selva of Ashes?”

Nova and I exchange looks. My whole mouth feels dry. Lie faster ,

I tell myself.

“We’re hunting for supplies in the Poison Garden,” he says with a

smirk.

“All this way? I do hope your dealer is making it worth your

while.”

“Listen, old man,” Nova says, “as long as those things don’t touch

us and we can get across, I’m good.”

Oros ponders, tapping a black nail on his chin. “Used to be people

paid me to cross the Luxaria with a promise of their firstborn or the

tears of their first love. Even a little taste of magic. My services

are costly, after all.”

Taste of magic?

“Well, we don’t have firstborn children,” Nova says irritably, “or

the tears of our first loves.”

“Not yet you don’t,” Oros says, like a warning.

A silver wave rises high into the air. Arms and faces try to pull

away from the imprisoned mass, but an invisible force pulls them back

down.

“Isn’t it obvious?” the duende says. He smiles, and the gold in

his teeth is blinding. When his cloak parts, I get a good look at the

reason for his limp. He’s got a gold foot that stops at the middle of

his calf.

His eyes fall to the pendant around my neck, the tiny gold

crescent moon necklace I’ve worn my whole life. I grab it

protectively.

“What’s wrong, girl?” Oros snaps. His patience is running short.

“The man who gave you that wasn’t worthy of your love-what’s left of

it, at least.”

My father gave this to me when I was five. I was obsessed with the

night sky. I’d take my mother’s silver eyeliner and draw stars on my

cheeks and a crescent moon on my forehead. Then, on my birthday, my

father gave me a tiny box. He told me that I could wear the moon

forever.

My father left. I know the truth. I’m not like Lula or Rose or my

mother. I don’t believe that he’ll return. And this duende knows, like

I do, that every day, some of that love slips away a little at a time.

Suddenly, he’s right in my face. His dark-gold eyes are expectant.

“Hold up, hold up,” Nova says, pulling at his earlobe. El duende

turns an irritated glare toward Nova. “My moms gave them to me for my

thirteenth birthday.”

He looks back and forth between us, weighing the diamonds on his

palm. The duende smiles when they twinkle.

“It is nearly satisfactory,” he says finally. “But she wears a

truly remarkable piece, and it’s been so long since I’ve had the

opportunity to help lost travelers.” Oros’s eyes fall on my necklace

again. He licks his lips with his dark tongue. I wonder what will

happen when the rest of him turns to gold and how that happens in the

first place.

“Plus,” Nova says, taking off his prex, “my family’s not powerful

like hers, but you can feel how long our lineage is.”

“Nova!”

“Stop,” he whispers. “I got this.”

Something about this pleases the creature. Because he’s not a

man-he’s a hideous, greedy creature that belongs in this ashen, cold

land. It’s a hateful thing, and this is a hateful place.

“We have a deal.” He snatches the prex from Nova’s hand. “Now get

onboard.”

Nova helps me get on, straddling the pier and the edge of our

boat. It moves under my weight and then again when Nova sits in front

of me.

Then, Oros unhooks us from the pier and gives us a push with his

staff.

“What are you doing?” I shout.

“I do not cross, girl.” He shakes his head. “I cannot cross.”

“You little sh-”

“You said you’d take us!”

He shakes his head in that slow way. The oars start slipping from

their metal rings. I grab on to them before they fall into the silver

river.

“I said I provide crossing. And I have.” He waddles farther up the

pier and waves. “Give the boat a push back if you get to the other

side.”

15

Where is my love?

Swimming in the River Luxaria.

Has he forgotten me so?

- Folk song, Book of Cantos

“I’ve never liked duendes.” I curse and grab the oars. “Trickster,

lying-”

“Forget him,” Nova says.

“I’d like to tear that old beast to bits.” Empty threats are

comforting when you’re sailing across a river of vengeful souls.

The closest to rowing I’ve ever gotten was the rowboats in Central

Park. Here, the current is quick, trying to drag us downstream and

away from our destination. It takes a few tries, but we sync up our

rowing.

“You don’t think this is romantic?” he asks dryly.

I make a face at the back of his head. Our blanket of gray sky

turns dark. Out here, the cool wind provides a reprieve from the dense

heat created by the Selva.

A crooked, white hand reaches for the side of the boat and

threatens to capsize us.

“Ignore it!” Nova tells me. “Row faster!”

How do you ignore fear that makes every muscle in your body

freeze? It’s so much easier to give in to fear. I’ve done it. After

Aunt Rosaria, I refused to leave the house. After Miluna, after my

father, I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I didn’t have anyone

depending on me then. I force myself to push through the burning in my

arms. And soon enough, we’re too fast for the ghoulish hand to hold on

to, and in a swift push of our oars, it lets go.

“Do you work out?” Nova looks over his shoulder at me.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

He chuckles. His eyes are so bright, like tiny stars gracing his

brown skin. It’s hard not to notice how pretty they are. But Nova said

it himself. I can’t just go running for something because I think it’s

pretty. After seeing my mom hurt so much, I told myself I’d never get

fooled. My dad had pretty eyes too. The same stark gray as Lula’s. Me,

I got plain brown eyes to match the plain girl I’ve always wanted to

be.

Nova turns back around and faces our destination. “Relax, I’m not