A Sprinkle of Spirits

by Anna Meriano

  “Oh wow,” Caroline said. “You must’ve done something.”

  Leo nodded slowly. “I guess so,” she said, not wanting to tell Caroline that the spell had ended as soon as all the spirits were delivered across the gate.

  Caroline came closer, holding out the mug. “I made you one,” she said. “You said your sisters get tired after using their powers.”

  Leo beamed and accepted the tea. “Chamomile,” she said as she inhaled the steam. “For relaxing.”

  “And cinnamon for strength.” Caroline nodded. “Your aunt said she would start teaching me, but I already have most of the herbs memorized from helping you. Aren’t you excited? We get to learn about magic together!”

  Leo nodded. “It’s going to be double the awesome,” she agreed. “But you know we would have anyway, even if you didn’t have any powers.”

  “I know,” Caroline said. “Besides, I’m not just another Logroño girl. I have my own family traditions to learn about. I was texting my prima, and she said she’d dig around my grandma’s old stuff, to try to find any spells or magical items. And when I go back for spring break, we can go visit my grandma’s cousin and see if she knows anything. I can’t wait.”

  Warmth bubbled in Leo’s chest. Mrs. Campbell didn’t have anything to worry about.

  “Leo, don’t cry,” Caroline said. “I’m sorry; I’m being terrible, acting excited when your grandma just . . . when you had to say goodbye.”

  “No, don’t worry,” Leo said. “I’m happy, really. For Abuela and all the spirits. They’re safe and peaceful. I think I’m just tired, like you said.” Caroline squeezed her shoulder, and Leo sipped a mouthful of warm tea.

  “Hey, what’s this?” Alma asked. She stood over the spot where the portal had vanished, staring at the colorful petals that had replaced it. “It almost looks like an ofrenda.”

  The purple, green, yellow, red, and blue petals had formed shapes among the orange to form a rectangle of intricate designs, with a sunburst circle pattern overlapping its lower half. Leo had seen flower petals formed into pictures as part of the ofrenda displays for Día de los Muertos, but those were usually in the shapes of skulls or crosses. This shape had a thin line sticking off one end, almost making it look like some kind of wheelbarrow or wagon, but nothing she recognized.

  “A gate?” Mai guessed. She tilted her head to one side. “Or a flag?”

  “No, it’s like a chariot,” Brent said. “See the wheel?”

  “He’s right, but it isn’t a chariot wheel.” Caroline said. “It’s a carreta.”

  Leo glanced at Isabel. “A cart?” her sister translated uncertainly.

  “Yeah, an oxcart. You know, one of the little painted ones?” Caroline pointed to the circular designs. “My grandma has pictures of them. They’re traditional in Costa Rica. I think she used to decorate them for festivals.”

  “Huh?” Leo still didn’t know what her friend was talking about.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Caroline said. A tiny smile formed on her face. “It’s a Tica thing. And it’s one more thing for me to vacuum before my dad gets back.”

  With that, everyone got to cleaning. But in spite of what Caroline had said, she carefully vacuumed around the edges of the design, leaving it undisturbed for as long as possible.

  Everyone else was bustling, tidying up the kitchen or loading trash into bags to haul to the bakery (so Mr. Campbell wouldn’t wonder why his garbage can smelled like a botánica).

  “What else can I do to help?” Leo asked as Caroline changed the vacuum attachment to clean under the chairs.

  “Hey,” she said. She knelt down, reached her hand under the couch, and withdrew something small and shiny.

  “What is it?” Leo asked, a little nervous. Had Mrs. Campbell left some evidence of her hiding? How would Caroline feel if she found out the truth now?

  Caroline held up a silver ring with a tiny butterfly topping it, its orange wings webbed with thin black lines. “I know what this is. I got it on a trip to Costa Rica when I was little, but I lost it years ago.” She looked down at the floor. “And I’m pretty sure we’ve moved the couch since then. . . .”

  “Wow, that’s really cool; it’s so pretty,” Leo said, trying to distract Caroline’s train of thought. “The wings look like the petals from the spirits, a little.”

  “Leo . . . can I ask you something, even if it sounds silly?”

  “Mmhm?”

  “Do you think maybe . . . even if my mom didn’t have unfinished business, even if she didn’t get pulled through by my spell . . . do you think she could have been watching anyway? I just felt like there was something there. Something helping me today.”

  “I think that makes sense,” Leo said. “Abuela said that in el Otro Lado, you can be part of everything, all at once. So I think she probably was part of what happened.”

  Caroline smiled. She slipped the ring onto her finger. “I’m really sorry about your grandma, Leo.”

  “I’m really sorry about your mom.” As Leo said it, she realized that she wasn’t sure she had ever said it to Caroline before.

  “All right,” Caroline said, giving herself a shake. “We should definitely keep cleaning, unless you want to explain all this bruja stuff to my dad today, because I know I don’t. I’ll save that for after I know a little more about it myself!”

  Leo nodded. “That will probably be soon, though. Something tells me you’re going to learn fast.”

  CHAPTER 20

  EVERYWHERE

  It was dark outside when Leo woke up. The moon showed silver through her blinds and her alarm clock read 4:01, and she should have been sleeping still. There was nothing to wake her, not a hand or a voice or the loud laugh that had been playing in her dream. She rubbed her eyes and sat up with none of her usual reluctance.

  It was January 6, Día de los Reyes, and Leo tiptoed into the kitchen in her socks and fuzzy pajama pants, because there was something she needed to do.

  Alma and Belén joined her just as she finished gathering the ingredients, ready to slice the oranges. Isabel arrived in time to heat the sugar sauce in a pot on the stove. Marisol shuffled in much later, after the boiling and freezing (and boiling again) was all finished, but she helped roll the drying pieces in their final coat of sugar.

  “Girls?” Mamá entered the kitchen with a sweatshirt pulled over her long nightgown. “What are you doing up?”

  Leo held out one of the plates of candied orange slices, the plate Isabel had decorated by overlapping the bright half circles to look like the crowded petals of a giant blooming marigold.

  “Happy Kings’ Day, Mamá.”

  “You girls.” Mamá smiled. She chose her slice carefully between two fingers and closed her eyes as she chewed. “Did you plan this?”

  Leo looked at Isabel, who looked at the twins, who looked at Marisol, who shrugged and ate two more slices off her bare-looking plate. “Not really,” she said, spraying grains of sugar from her mouth.

  Daddy entered the kitchen, putting his hands on Mamá’s shoulders and letting her feed him a slice of sweet orange. “Not bad,” he said in his grumbly waking-up voice. “What recipe did you use?”

  Leo shrugged along with her sisters. “It’s just equal parts water and sugar,” Isabel said.

  “With a splash of orange juice,” Alma added.

  “We were just . . .” Marisol shrugged. “Inspired.”

  “By the holiday,” Belén said.

  Mamá lined up the five plates of slices on the counter, a smile on her face even as she blinked quickly and cleared her throat. “I always liked to do full circles, myself. Or just the peel for decorating. It was your grandmother who made them this way.”

  Leo wasn’t exactly surprised, but hearing the words out loud popped the dreamlike bubble she had been working in, and everything that had felt clear and simple since she woke up twisted with mystery and longing.

  “I stopped using them on our rosca de reyes,” Mamá said. “They’re
a little too bitter for some people, and there are so many festive alternatives.”

  “We could make a special cake with them,” Isabel said. “We could eat it tonight! Oh, and we should invite Caroline and her dad.”

  “That sounds nice,” Daddy said. “I like Mr. Campbell.”

  “We should invite Leo’s other friends too,” Alma said, “since they helped with everything too. And I think we technically owe that one boy cake.”

  “Wait, if Leo’s friends are all coming over, then I want to invite my boyf—my, um friend,” Marisol said.

  “Why not?” Mamá laughed. “Let’s throw a whole party, at the last minute, on a day when I’m working and the kitchen is a mess.”

  “Oh, Elena.” Daddy hugged Mamá from behind. “Where’s your holiday spirit?”

  “I didn’t say no,” Mamá said, a smile tweaking the edges of her mouth. “Invite the whole town if you want. I’m just not going to be the one organizing.”

  “Good, because I already texted him.” Marisol smiled sweetly, phone in hand.

  “Don’t touch those dishes,” Daddy said, barring Mamá’s way as she headed for the sink. “Leave all that to me. I’ll get this place party ready in no time. What time does the dollar store open, do you think?”

  Mamá rolled her eyes, but she smiled, put an arm around Leo’s shoulders, and squeezed. “How did I get such a great family?” she asked as Isabel dug out a clean frying pan and a carton of eggs to start real breakfast.

  Leo smiled. “Well, you do have magic bruja powers. That probably helps.”

  “Hey,” Daddy protested. “I’ve been hearing a lot of chatter and gossip about nonbruja and brujo folks, and I just want to point out that you girls have one nonmagical parent who’s right here if you have any questions about whether nonmagical people can be trusted with secrets. I happen to think that I’ve done a pretty good job of integrating into your mother’s world.”

  “Sorry, Daddy,” Isabel said sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking about you when I told Leo all that. You don’t really count.”

  “Yeah,” Leo pointed out. “Anyway, Abuela told me last year that everyone has some kind of magic. it just might not be as obvious as ours. Even your family.”

  “Well, if that’s true, it’s news to me.” Daddy shrugged. “Until Elena told me, I thought brujería was all rumor and superstition. I was sure that I could explain everything in the world with plain facts and logic. But then I learned better.”

  “That sounds like how Mario responded when I told him.” Marisol giggled.

  “Wait, Mario?” Daddy asked. “Is that the name of the boy we’re going to meet? What happened to George?”

  “Daddyyyy,” Marisol groaned. “That was weeks ago.”

  Next to Leo, Mamá squinted down at the counter, then plucked a small marigold blossom from nowhere and settled it in the corner of Isabel’s plate.

  “I’d better get dressed for work,” she said. “But leave at least seven, will you? Just in case our guests from yesterday can enjoy them.”

  Leo remembered Abuela’s words. The benefit of being everything . . .

  When she looked at Mamá’s flower, she thought she could see a layer of something shimmering over it.

  “They can,” she said. “They already do.”

  When no one was looking, she reached for the flower and felt the chill of cool air against her fingertips as they disappeared.

  EPILOGUE

  APRIL VISITOR

  Leo’s body twitched violently, startled out of a dream that smelled like marigolds and left goose bumps on her skin. A good dream, but not a good feeling holding her muscles tensed now. Something moved in her room.

  Slowly she opened one eye, scanning the bedside table, the bookshelves and the dollhouse in front of the window, the corner where her closet door stood open with its crooked line of hangers. Everything seemed undisturbed. She shifted as naturally as she could to check the foot of her bed.

  Nothing. Just a feeling, or a nightmare. She sat up in bed and hugged her knees to her chest to calm her beating heart.

  In the empty space where she had been staring, a dark figure appeared.

  “Gah!” Leo kicked her legs and lifted her hands to her face and thought about screaming for real to bring Mamá and Daddy running. But a thought occurred to her. “Abuela?”

  “Afraid not,” an unfamiliar voice replied. It was deep and friendly, but it did nothing to relax Leo’s clenched fists.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. “What are you doing here?” It was midnight by the alarm clock on her bedside table. “What do you want?”

  The figure stepped to the side of the bed, moving slowly, hands raised to show innocence. Leo made out a wrinkled brown face and a tall shock of gray hair, combed to one side. The man—or spirit—was smiling. “I just want to talk,” he said.

  “Well, I don’t talk to strangers,” Leo replied, just about making up her mind to scream.

  “Now, now, Leo. Is that any way to treat your abuelo Logroño?”

  ROSCA DE REYES: “THREE KINGS’ CAKE”

  Makes one cake. Be careful where you bite . . . there may be a tiny baby inside your slice.

  INGREDIENTS

  FOR DOUGH

  ½ stick unsalted butter, plus more for greasing the baking tray

  1 cup granulated sugar

  4 eggs

  ½ cup milk

  ½ teaspoon salt

  2½ cups flour

  2 tablespoons yeast (activated in warm milk)

  1 cup lard (optional)

  2 small ceramic baby Jesus figures (NOT PLASTIC!*)

  FOR TOPPING

  1½ cups flour

  1 stick butter

  ½ cup icing sugar

  ½ cup granulated sugar

  2 cups dried and candied fruit

  DIRECTIONS FOR DOUGH

  In a large mixing bowl, combine the ½ stick of butter and sugar and mix for four minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing throughout, and then the milk and salt for 1 minute.

  Add the flour and the yeast that’s been activated in warm milk and mix for 3 minutes.

  Add the optional lard and mix 8 minutes until the mixture isn’t sticking to the bowl.

  Cover the dough loosely with plastic wrap or a cloth; let it sit and rise until it’s doubled in size. This will take approximately 1 to 1½ hours.

  Put the mixing bowl in the refrigerator and let the risen dough rest for another 30 minutes.

  Put the dough onto a lightly floured board. Roll and shape the dough into a donut-like rosca de reyes.

  Grease your baking tray with the unsalted butter. Lay the dough ring on the tray and let it rest uncovered for another 30 minutes.

  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

  Make the topping (see next section).

  Spread the topping over the dough. Insert each of the ceramic babies into the bottom of the cake in a different spot so that they are hidden from view.

  Bake the cake for 30 minutes.

  Once the cake is cool, add the dried and candied fruit to the top.

  DIRECTIONS FOR THE TOPPING:

  Combine the flour, butter, icing sugar, and granulated sugar and mix for 7 minutes or until you get a paste that’s the texture of butter.

  You will put the dried and candied fruit on the cake once it is baked.

  HOT CHOCOLATE

  Makes four servings.

  INGREDIENTS

  3 tablespoons crushed cinnamon sticks

  3 cups whole milk

  6 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped

  3 tablespoons granulated sugar

  ¾ teaspoon vanilla extract or almond extract

  pinch of salt

  ¼ teaspoon ground cayenne pepper, plus more for topping if desired

  whipped cream

  cocoa powder

  DIRECTIONS

  In a saucepan over medium-low heat, bring cinnamon and milk to a simmer. Make sure to whisk so the milk does not boil until you can smell t
he cinnamon. It should take about 10 minutes.

  Whisk in the chocolate, sugar, vanilla or almond extract, salt, and ¼ teaspoon of cayenne. Make sure to whisk frequently until the mixture is smooth and the chocolate is fully melted and creamy. Should take about 6 minutes.

  Remove from heat. Set out four mugs. Divide the hot chocolate among the mugs. Add whipped cream to the top and sprinkle it with cocoa powder and more cayenne pepper if you desire.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  In this book, Leo and her sisters learn that you can never have too many witches in the kitchen. Just like a multilayered spell, publication depends on a community of talented individuals working together. I extend my deepest thanks to everyone who has added their love and magic to this book, including but definitely not limited to:

  Dhonielle Clayton and Sona Charaipotra, Cake Literary partners extraordinaire, for giving the first spark of life to Leo and her stories.

  Jordan Brown for his tireless work to make this book the best it could possibly be, and Debbie Kovacs for her industry expertise.

  Victoria Marini for her continued support as I navigate all the facets of my writing career.

  Mirelle Ortega for once again blowing me away with perfect cover art, and Jessie Gang and Sarah Nichole Kaufman for the logo and jacket design. The books are so beautiful it actually makes me cry.

  Everyone at Walden Pond Press and HarperCollins for all the time, effort, and faith in this story.

  My parents and my brothers for supporting me and letting me talk about obscure book stuff. All my family for promoting the heck out of book one, cheering me on through book two, and offering all sorts of suggestions for books three through one hundred. I love and appreciate all of you (though I can’t promise that fart magic is ever going to make it into the series).

  All my friends for being gracious whenever I fall off the grid for promotion and deadline stuff. The New School squad for absolutely crushing it and sharing all the best advice and motivation. Andrea, Devon and Claire, and Brandon for emergency Spanish questions, Costa Rica consultations, and naming debates. Mary for listening to me ramble-outline the original plot. Ariel for beta reading, copyediting, and letting me ride on the back of your bike.