should warn you. There are nasty giants in those parts. Oh, and do

avoid the Laguna Roja, unless you can breathe underwater. Los Lagos

might be home to me, but all places have their dangers.”

“Is the labyrinth dangerous?” I ask.

A sad smile tugs at his lips. He leans into his seat, a throne

suited for the Meadow King. “No good can come from that place.”

“Have you been there?” My heart shoots up to my throat.

“Long ago.” Agosto takes his goblet and drinks deep. His lips are

stained purple. “I was searching for someone. But the labyrinth has a

way of taking you in and never letting go. It is a dark place, a

damned place. I find it’s better to stay here, in the meadow, where I

can always find the light.”

“What if you didn’t have a choice?” I press on. “What if you had

to go back?”

The faun king laughs heartily. I love the sound of it. “Eat, now.

You must be famished.”

I am hungry. Who knows when we’ll have food again on the rest of

our journey? But there’s something wrong about the roasted chicken in

front of me-the skin is perfectly crispy. The potatoes are soft and

smothered in rosemary and sea salt. It’s just the way I like it. But

when I lean forward, I don’t smell the rich spices.

I smell dirt.

The magic within me stirs. I press my hand over my racing heart.

I’ve used more magic since we arrived than I have my whole life. I can

feel my power getting restless, as if it had a taste of freedom and it

won’t be caged again.

“Your power is calling to the meadow,” Agosto says.

How does he know that? “Do you have magic?”

He turns his head from side to side. “Once. It was taken from me.”

“By who?”

“My brother, the Bastard King of Adas. The last great thing I

could do for my people was find them a new home.” He pats my hand

gently with his. “There’s so much I wish I could do for them still-so

much I’m willing to do.”

I take Agosto’s hand and squeeze. I can’t imagine that an immortal

being such as him needs the comfort of a girl like me, but I know his

pain. The feeling stirs inside of me until I start to feel like I’ll

come undone.

“Excuse me,” I say, standing from the table.

“Wait.” Agosto takes my hand in his. Despite his calluses and

scars, his touch is surprisingly soft. For a moment, I pretend he’s

someone else. I look down the table, and the thought startles me so

that I pull away.

“I’m just getting a little warm in the sun,” I assure him.

He kisses the back of my hand. “Don’t go too far. It isn’t safe

out there.”

The sound of a snake hissing follows me as I walk away. When I

turn around, Rodriga is leaning over Agosto’s arm, vying for his

attention. She waves her arms in the air, but all he does is look into

his wine goblet.

I start to walk down the table to Nova, but he’s on his second

steak, and I’ve already forgotten what I wanted to ask him. Where are

my thoughts going? It’s like Rishi said. They fell out of her head.

I walk to the edge of the meadow to find some shade. My stomach

contracts painfully. I sit down and hit my head against the bark of

the tree. Can it be that I’ve resisted my magic for so long that I

simply just can’t recognize the difference between a stomachache and

my own power?

“Lula,” I say. “I really need you to come back.”

It isn’t Lula who appears. It’s my mother. Right in the middle of

the field. Her hair is still haloed by bright-red flowers that match

her lips. Her white dress is stained with dirt.

I jump up to my feet. I need to run to her. I need her to forgive

me. Need her to tell me I’m going the right way. I need my mom.

Just like Lula’s apparition, my mom flickers. Unlike Lula, she

doesn’t stay. I run to her open arms but a shadow appears behind her.

I can hear her shout my name once before she vanishes. My shaking

hands close around air, and I can feel the magic pounding up from the

pit of my belly. That’s my magic .

And it wants out. I listen to the heartbeat of the ground. It

whispers a welcome. My magic builds in me like a song, and I let it

play along my skin.

Listen , the little voice tells me.

What am I listening for? There is only a meadow full of laughter

and cheer.

Look , the little voice says.

What am I looking for? There are my friends and the adas. There

was a woman there. She was wearing roses. I felt like I knew her. I

felt like…

“Encantrix.” Agosto calls for me, walking on powerful hooves. He

takes my hand and helps me stand. As the sun and moon set, the meadow

is bathed in firelight. “Are you well?”

“I’m better than well,” I say.

“I wanted to give you one last gift before you carry on with your

journey.”

He hands me a wine goblet and offers me his arm. This time the

wine isn’t bitter, and the roses coat my senses. Nothing coats the

senses quite like roses , someone said.

“Journey?” My thoughts drift away like clouds. “I wouldn’t dream

of going anywhere.”

24

The bleeding heart

cannot survive the night.

- Bleeding Heart, Herbs, and Flowers, Book of Cantos

The dark brings out its nocturnal critters-owls with glowing, red

eyes. Marsupials scratching their way up trees. Fireflies by the

hundreds. The sky is painted the deepest blue, moonless, sunless, and

covered in shooting stars.

Every time I blink, I see something new. Agosto leads me back to

the center of the meadow, where a white fire erupts. There’s a great

cheer, followed by music. A band of adas play instruments made of

hollow branches and shimmering cobwebs. Agosto spins me in place, our

fingers sparking with magic. Wine sloshes over the rim of my cup, and

I bring my hand to my lips to lick every falling drop.

This is what a party is supposed to feel like , I think.

The Meadowkin and my friends gather around. Agosto bows in front

of me and pulls me into a dance. I never dance. I never liked it

before. A hazy memory sifts through my crowded thoughts: Lula and Rose

dancing circles around me, too little and too happy to care about

looking foolish. They would love this place. They would love to see me

happy.

“There’s somewhere I have to be,” I say.

“I will get you there,” Agosto tells me. His large hands close

around my waist and lift me into the air. “But first, there is someone

who wishes to dance with you.”

Agosto bows again, winking at someone behind me. He holds his

palms out and a flute appears. It twists at the ends like vines of ivy

and has dozens of little holes. He brings it to his wine-stained lips

and blows. I can’t imagine how something so delicate can make such a

powerful sound, but it does.

“You owe me a dance,” Rishi says, tapping my shoulder.

My insides tickle, like the moment you plunge down a roller

coaster. I walk around her in a circle. She rests one of her hands on

her hip, her weight shifted to the side, all attitude. The gem of her

nose ring winks at me from every angle. My little magpie.

“Would you accept a fairy fiesta to make up for the Ghoul Ball?” I

hold out my hand. I’ve never felt this bold in my whole life. It’s

like the magic is pulling the strings and I’m just allowing it.

Rishi shrugs a shoulder playfully. Her black wing looses a handful

of feathers. Something in my mind clicks, and I reach out with my

power. Rishi gasps as the wings bind together, longer and fuller.

“Oh, Alex!” She spreads her arms wide and jumps on me.

I ignore the twinge in my spine where the recoil grips me like a