magic. She raises her hands to the sky, and the wind picks up and

howls around us.

“I was promised the power of a savior,” she says, “but all I got

is a girl.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to my family. I backpedal, scramble on my

elbows to get away from her. “I’m sorry.”

But the blow never comes. Agosto stands behind the Devourer. He

pulls on his chains, slings them around the witch’s throat, and pulls

tightly. The clouds above us start to shrink as she scratches his arms

with her long, hooked nails.

The Devourer makes a terrible choking sound. The rest of the

meadow is completely still, the other adas hidden except for Rodriga.

She pulls her chains on top of Agosto’s. Together, they keep the demon

bruja restrained. I can see her eyes glow red with fury beneath the

bone mask.

“Go!” he shouts. “I can’t hold her for long.”

“Agosto-”

I drag Rishi to the edge of the meadow before my arm muscles burn

and I can’t go any farther. Nova staggers toward us, and I fear I

truly will have to leave them behind.

Fight , the voice in my head growls.

Lula’s done all my fighting for me. Ever since we were little, she

was the one to step forward and punch girls or boys who threatened me.

Rose fights the visions in her head every day. My mother-my mother is

the strongest woman I know, battling the sadness and grief that comes

with raising children alone. All I’ve ever done is run from things

that scare me.

A deep growl shudders through the trees. The Devourer has

recovered, and then there is a terrible crunching sound. Agosto’s and

Rodriga’s screams pierce me right down to my bones. I tell myself that

they were trying to keep us there for the Devourer. But I saw the

desperation in Agosto’s eyes. The chains that make him a slave to the

creature. They’re trying to help me.

There might be hope yet , Rodriga said.

I pull Rishi and Nova behind a tree. I cover them with giant

leaves and then run back into the meadow.

The Devourer flips Agosto and Rodriga over her shoulders. The adas

are tangled in their own chains. I raise the mace to strike, but when

I swing, it slips out of my grip. The Devourer’s blast slams into my

chest and I land on my shoulder.

“Your heart gives you away,” the Devourer tells me. She turns

around to face me. “It’s like a warning bell the way it beats so loud.

So scared. I’ll gladly rip it out for you. Save you the trouble it’ll

give you down the line.”

“Funny,” I say, pushing myself up. “I was going to say the same

thing about your mouth.”

I pull on the anger and fear I’ve felt all my life. I pull on the

hope that always feels like it’s slipping away. My magic surges

through me, fills me with a power stronger than ever before. I blast

the Devourer in her stomach. She deflects it with a wave of her hand,

but I catch the worry that sparks in her red eyes.

I find myself smiling because I put that worry there. I’m not

running.

Unlike so many times before, I call on my power willingly. It’s an

instinct I can no longer ignore. I’m a wild thing, shooting sparks

from my fingers. My throat burns from screaming as the Devourer slaps

me with the force of her power. It stings cold all over, and I fall

and freeze. I shudder as my magic warms me, my muscles seizing as they

thaw.

My vision is filled with red. The Devourer stands over me. Black

wisps trail at the ends of her long fingernails.

“You’re strong,” she whispers in my ear. “But I’m stronger.”

I flip to the side, narrowly missing her foot to my face. I jump

for the silver handle hiding in the blades of grass. I wrap my magic

around the mace until it looks like a weapon made of lightning. I

swing it at her head. The Devourer’s face snaps to the side. Her hand

goes to her mouth, where a thin line of scarlet blood runs down her

chin.

She touches it, holds out her fingers to examine the red droplets.

Is that fear I see in her eyes?

A sinister laugh makes me jump. Agosto crawls on his elbows toward

us. One of his eyes is swollen shut. I can’t tell where all the blood

is coming from, and then I see the hole in his head where one of his

horns has been ripped out.

“You are weakening,” Agosto says. “How long since you’ve fed,

Xara?” Zah-rah.

“I don’t answer to a mortal’s name.”

“Gods don’t bleed,” I say.

The Devourer turns her rage on Agosto. He won’t survive a second

round. I can already feel my muscles cramping from the recoil, but I

try to ignore the pain and stand between them. My power pulses at the

center of my palms, ready to strike.

The Devourer hesitates, then tilts her face toward the light that

comes from the sun and moon. What she sees seems to please her. She

places her bloody finger to her lip and smiles a cruel smile.

“The difference between you and me, Alejandra, is that I’ve lived

a long, long time.”

“That’s not the only difference,” I say.

“It’s my turn to shape the galaxies. And you’re so focused on

mourning your lot that you don’t see how insignificant you are in the

end. Don’t worry. You will beg me to end your pain soon enough.”

She conjures a great, black cloud. I run toward her, screaming at

the top of my lungs as I blast my power at her. It booms like thunder

and pierces a hole through her cloud.

She’s gone.

I release the magic I’ve built up into the sky, and I relish

knowing that I drew first blood.

26

She is the light in the hopeless places.

She is the sky when the night blazes.

- Rezo de La Estrella, Lady of Hope and All the World’s Brightness

My mother used to pray to La Estrella, the daughter of La Mama and

El Papa who birthed all the stars in all the galaxies. For a little

while, after my dad’s disappearance, my mom erected an altar for her.

She bought a statue of a woman with skin like the night sky, eyes

silver like stars, and a blue dress draped around her body. She bought

fruits and candles and a starling bird in a cage. It took up an entire

wall in the kitchen and none of us were allowed to touch it.

But then the candles burned, and the bird got sick, and the food

rotted, and one morning, we woke up and the starling was dead. That

was the day my mother lost hope and donated the statue of La Estrella

to someone else that needed it.

Here, in the Meadow del Sol, as the adas emerge from their hiding

places, as the Faun King kneels before me, I collapse. The brightening

sky still sparkles with fading stars, and so I pray to La Estrella.

“Forgive me,” Agosto tells me, crawling toward me. He takes my

hand in his. His shackles drag behind him. He can’t stand up, and for

the first time, I notice the terrible angle of his broken leg.

I take a deep breath and get on my knees, fighting the recoil that

wants to crash over me. I dig my left hand into the dirt and feel for

the pulse of the land. I take energy from it, let it filter through me

and into Agosto’s wound. The gash closes and the blood dries. The

swelling around his eye decreases, and before I can move to his ankle,

he pulls me into a tight embrace. He’s so big, so muscular that I’m

surprised at how gentle his touch is.

“Forgive me,” he repeats.

I shake my head. It’s not that I’m not forgiving him. It’s that I

can’t speak right now. My power is on autopilot, searching for his

broken bones. I hiss when I hear the snap in his ankle. Then comes

Rodriga. The adas have made a bed of flowers for her. There’s a gash