by Kaela Rivera
Coyote quirked an eyebrow at me when I didn’t say anything. “This is the part where you thank me because I’m so helpful.”
“Oh! Of course, yeah, thank you.” I looked down at the notebook. “So what does this criatura owe you?”
His eyes closed. “A lot.”
Okay, Mr. Dodging the Question. But he was hurt, so I’d ignore that for now. “What criatura is he? He’s not a snake, right?”
“No.” He rested his head back and smiled. “He goes by Little Lion. He’s the Criatura of the Black Lion.”
I went still. Black lions used to be a species native to our desert. In some towns, people even celebrated them on a special feast day. The way coyotes symbolized mischief and creation, black lions had once symbolized raw and indominable power.
But most of them had died out from overhunting years before I was even born. I thought they’d gone extinct.
I gripped the notebook between my nervous hands. I might’ve never seen one, but I knew one thing about the legendary black lions. They were powerful. Big. Strong.
“You think I can stand up to a black lion?” I asked.
“If it’s to save your sister, I think you can handle any criatura standing between you and her.” Coyote peeked an eye open. I smiled. Was that a compliment? He cleared his throat. “But there is a downside. He may try to kill you when you find him.”
I jerked my head up. “He’ll what?”
“He’ll probably try to kill you.” He shrugged casually. “Most criaturas don’t like being a bruja’s pet, but he’s especially defensive. Just show him my soul stone and he’ll listen. Probably.”
That wasn’t nearly as comforting as he seemed to think it was.
He pointed at the map again. “You should leave now. It’s a long journey.”
It took me a few moments of squinting and turning my head before I could orient myself on his rough depiction. He’d drawn me as a bald, smiling stick figure in my house—the starting place. A winding dotted line tracked my figure’s way through the Ruins, past the cactus plains and silver mine, and into the rocky cerros. He was right. This trip was probably going to take hours.
I closed the notebook with a sigh. I was tired, and my legs and arms were sore from carrying Coyote home. And now I had to trek hours out into the desert? I wasn’t sure if I’d make it.
My mind tiptoed back to what Dominga del Sol had said after she gave me the limpia. “. . . you are ready now, Cece, to take on whatever challenge is set before you.”
I straightened up. That’s right. I could do this.
I stuffed the notebook into my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Is there anything you need before I leave?”
“No, the jerky is enough.” Coyote pulled the bag of dried meat I’d fetched for him this morning a foot closer and then curled up around his pillows. Doing that, he looked like a puppy, even though he was in human form.
I frowned a little. He was a criatura, not a puppy. I had to remember that.
Coyote side-eyed me from his nest. “You smell confused.”
“I just don’t know why you want to help me,” I blurted.
He looked at the floor. “You saved my life, remember?”
“I know. But that’s never been a reason for criaturas to help humans before.”
He shrugged. “You said it was your fault your sister was captured, right?”
Almost immediately, I felt my ribs constrict. I swallowed hard. “Yeah . . .”
“Well, it wasn’t,” he said. “It was El Sombrerón’s fault. So one criatura should help fix what another one did, right?”
“But—that’s still not . . .” My palms started to sweat. Sure, that sounded like reason enough, but El Sombrerón had stolen so many brides over the years. And other criaturas had never helped get them back just because. It didn’t make sense.
Coyote was a criatura, so he was supposed to be bad, but he’d only been kind and good to me. He was just like Tzitzimitl in that way. Just like Tía Catrina’s descriptions of her criatura “being good.” Thoughts of Coyote, my tía’s journal, and memories of Tzitzimitl jumbled up in my head.
“It’s—it’s like when you gave music and dance to Naked Man,” I said. “It didn’t benefit you, but you still helped them. I feel like I should be worried about why you did.”
He went still. “But you’re not.”
“Not as much as I should be,” I whispered.
That had always been my problem. To everyone else in Tierra del Sol, the fact that he was a criatura was more than enough reason to hate him. Why wasn’t it for me? Was Tzitzimitl’s blessing—I mean, curse—making me weak like Papá and Mamá thought?
I had a sister to save. I couldn’t afford to ruin things again.
I slipped on my shoes and pulled open the loft hatch. “Whatever you do, don’t go downstairs while I’m gone. Mamá is working in the maize fields and Papá is in the oil refinery, but they could stop in at any time, got it?”
When I glanced back at him, Coyote was already asleep. Or pretending to be so he didn’t have to answer. I frowned and started to climb down.
“Cece,” Coyote said.
I paused on the ladder. He’d turned away, so I couldn’t see his expression. But a tingling sensation built in my chest. Strong waves of anxiety and guilt wormed around my belly, and it took me a bit to realize they weren’t my own. Strange. The longer I wore his soul, the more powerfully his feelings seemed to come through.
“He will try to kill you,” Coyote spoke up. “I can’t go with you, so be extra careful.”
I rapped my fingers against the floor. “Don’t worry, I will.”
He made no further comment, but the gray emotions grew bigger. The feelings wrestled with each other, blurring until I didn’t even know which feelings were mine and which were his. I wrapped myself in a hug and tried not to drown.
“Is that you?” I asked. My voice shook.
The feelings suddenly disappeared. I shivered as my chest grew light again, and I could appreciate all the beautiful colors in my room. But I concentrated on Coyote’s back. It was still, calm. As calm as the feelings had been chaotic.
He didn’t answer me. Maybe he really was asleep this time.
I closed the hatch door behind me. I still didn’t understand what Coyote was getting out of this, or what battle was going on inside his soul, but I did appreciate him.
It was strange, really. I didn’t think criaturas were supposed to be this—human.
I managed to follow Coyote’s map into the cerros. It took about three hours of stumbling over rocks, weaving around elephant trees, and bypassing prickly cacti. I paused at the top of a hill, staring across the dry scrub and rising cerros folding over themselves into the horizon. I’d never come out this far before.
I expected to be tired, but there was something about the land out here that gave me new energy. I breathed in the smell. The sharp earth, the bristly strength of the cerros. It was different from the taste of dust in town. It wasn’t concrete or adobe like the houses. Or stale and dry like the faces. It was lighter than the weight of stares at the schoolhouse. Here, there was space to be human.
Ironic, since I was on the lookout for a criatura.
I opened my notebook to check Coyote’s map again. The wiggly dotted line and the X that marked the spot indicated I was in about the right place. Now all I needed was to find a cave.
I followed rocks and boulders all the way to the base of a mountain. The rocks, red and warm from the sun, rose far above my head. I dug my shoes into the pebbly grit and started to climb. Foot after foot, I scaled its craggy face and eventually stopped before a large cave.
Holy sunset. I tugged my torch out of my bag. It was a new one but still smelled of rancid cooking oil. I held the torch at arm’s length, struck a match, and lit it. The light stretched into the dark crevice. Slowly, with the fire to guide me, I took a single, hesitant step inside the cave.
“Little Lion?” I called out.
&n
bsp; There was no response. I didn’t exactly expect him to dance into sight and offer his soul to me, considering Coyote’s warning, but I hoped he wouldn’t hide either. With a quavering breath, I held my torch higher. The stone around me transformed from dark gray to warm, pale limestone. I stepped forward, heading farther into the cave.
“Leave.”
The voice was deep, rumbling, with a threatening growl near the end.
My heart quickened. “Little Lion?”
Two red eyes lit up. I stretched my torch out to catch a better glimpse, but the figure receded into the shadow. Only the edge of his eyes caught my light.
So he didn’t want to show himself. That was okay. He hadn’t tried to kill me yet, so I figured I was already doing pretty good.
“Little Lion, I’ve come to bargain,” I said. “I need a criatura—”
“I said leave!”
His voice roared through the stone until even the pebbles by my feet quaked. I fell silent. Slowly, carefully, I dipped my hand inside my rough sweater and pulled out Coyote’s soul. It dangled from my fingers.
“I’m a bruja,” I said. “Coyo—”
A dark blur lunged toward me. I screamed as he tackled me to the ground. The torch spiraled out of my hand and landed with a clatter next to us. Strong hands pinned my arms above my head.
Little Lion’s red gaze flashed above me. The fallen torch lit the side of his face, orange light glinting across his bared teeth and deep brown skin.
“Stop!” I barked. “Coyote! Coyote sent me!”
Little Lion paused. He looked about thirteen years old, with a young face, hard eyes, and black hair that stuck up across his head in spiky waves. His straight black eyebrows lowered on his small forehead.
One of his hands suddenly yanked away from mine, and he grabbed both my wrists in his other hand—the way Juana used to when we’d wrestle. With his free hand, he lifted the stone from my neck.
“Coyote’s soul,” he said. “You stole it?”
I shook my head wildly. “No, no. He gave it to me—”
“I owe him a favor,” he spat. “I’ll repay it now.”
He tugged on the necklace, and I knew he was going to take Coyote’s soul from me.
The world slowed to molasses. Little Lion’s fist tightened as he began to wrench the necklace away. The warmth of Coyote’s soul pulled further and further out of reach, and it felt as if someone were ripping the comforting sound of my heartbeat out of my pulse.
“No!” I cried.
Before he could snap the leather strap securing Coyote’s soul, I slipped my sweaty hand from his grip and grabbed the quartz stone dangling from his neck.
His face froze like someone had stabbed him.
Just like Grimmer Mother and Coyote had taught me, I pushed. I pushed all my fear, all my panic, all the desperate, nervous need to get my sister back into his soul. I piled it on, higher and higher, until I couldn’t even breathe for the panic we shared.
Little Lion’s face twisted. He threw Coyote’s soul back down on my chest.
“Stop!” he shouted.
I gritted my teeth and ripped his necklace from him. The snap of the leather echoed through the cave. Little Lion stumbled off me with a painful sounding gasp. Quickly, I tied the strap around my neck. A feeling like a captured storm settled between my ribs.
“I’m your bruja now!” I sputtered. “You can’t kill me!”
Little Lion had fallen to the ground beside me. His head hung low. “Desert’s voices, not again.”
“Coyote’s calling in his debt now!” I scrambled to sit up. “He wants you to be my criatura! That’s his deal. Then you’re even.”
For a moment, there was just the cool brush of wind from the cave’s entrance, and the flickering tongue of the torch fire. Little Lion didn’t move. I held my breath. Slowly, he lifted his head.
“Then we’re even, huh?” he mumbled.
“Yeah.” I let out a slow breath. “So you won’t hurt me, right?”
He pushed off the ground with a scowl. He had broad shoulders for a teen, and they twitched with anger. “Not like I could, now that you have my soul stone.” He stood and backed away, looking me up and down. “Coyote really gave you his?”
I sat up, rubbing my wrists. “Yeah. He said it was in return for saving his life.”
Little Lion folded his arms. “You saved him?”
“He was trying to rescue me, but it didn’t work out. It’s complicated.” I stood and tried to catch my breath. “Anyway, I need another criatura to fight in the tournament tonight, and he said you were strong and owed him a favor.”
Little Lion’s nose wrinkled. “I am. And I do.”
I smiled. “Perfect! Because I could use your help.” I glanced down at his stone, and my excitement waned. Four cracks ran through the jagged quartz crystal. He’d died four times already. The thought weighed on me as I tucked his soul into my shirt. Unlike Coyote’s soul, which was always pleasantly warm, Little Lion’s was just a little too hot.
When I looked back up, he threw my torch back at me. I scrambled to catch it without scorching myself.
“Listen carefully, human,” he said, with so much fire in his voice that I was suddenly more worried about him burning me than the torch. “I hate you soul-sucking brujas. So as soon as I’ve repaid my debt, I’m gone. You understand?”
I paused. “I think you’re saying that you’ll help me. Right?”
“For Coyote.” He pointed a clawed finger in my direction. “And no other reason.”
Wow, okay, he was mad. Whatever he owed Coyote must’ve been pretty important for him to agree to help me. But now probably wasn’t the time to ask. We still had a long journey home.
“Well, I appreciate it anyway.” I gestured to the cave mouth. “We’ll talk more about my, uh, fighting style at my place. I have to be home before the sun sets or my parents will think I’ve skipped curfew.” I started walking out. “Once night falls, we can sneak out for the Bruja Fights.”
His footsteps followed behind me. “You care what your familia thinks?”
I glared at him. “Yeah, so? That’s pretty normal.”
“Not for brujas.” He sneered.
“You’ll find out soon,” I said as we emerged from the cave. “I’m not like most brujas.”
14
The Lion
“Okay, the window on the east side, the second floor, that’s the one you need to sneak through,” I said. “I’ll meet you up there once I’ve had dinner. Okay?”
Even in the warm light of evening, Little Lion’s face was no more merciful than it had been in the cave.
“Is that a command?” he asked.
I sighed. “It’s a request. Please try to be reasonable. If my parents see you, they’ll call the police, and then you and I will be captured together.”
We stood outside my house, in the backyard. As I spoke, I tucked both necklaces in my shirt, so my dress collar hid the two leather straps and their stones. Little Lion watched the whole thing.
“What?” I snapped.
He raised a single eyebrow. “You’re a bruja who can carry two criatura souls, and you’re afraid of the police.”
“Yes,” I hissed. “Because if they realize I have two criaturas, they’ll imprison me and kill you and Coyote. Got it?”
He inclined his chin and said nothing. Well, he wasn’t going to be very good company. Still, I should be grateful I’d gotten him here at all, considering I could have been dead in a cave instead.
“Por favor, just go up to the room. I’ll be there soon.”
He turned away, and then crouched and sprang into the air. He left behind a shiver of dust, disappearing from sight without so much as a sound.
I took a brave breath and marched to the front of the house, ready to face my familia and pretend like I hadn’t just been hunting for a criatura all afternoon.
“I’m home, Mamá!” I called as I closed the front door firmly behind me.
Mam
á peeked out from the kitchen but didn’t say anything. I smiled and met her in the small cooking alcove. “What’re we having for dinner? Is Papá home yet?”
She turned back to the tortillas on the comal. At the mention of Papá, her eyebrows tugged together.
“No, mija, he’s out.”
I’m not sure why I even bothered to ask. Papá rarely came home before sunset, and when he did, he was a stumbling, sweaty mess. For some reason, I’d thought that would change after Juana was taken. I didn’t understand why he’d want to stay away now that our familia was even smaller.
Mamá pulled the tortillas off the stove and slapped them onto the table next to a single plate of beans and rice. Then, she rolled up her sleeves and stomped off toward the front door.
“Mamá?” I asked as she tugged on her worn coat.
She turned to me and smiled sadly. “I cooked your dinner, mija, but I have to go. The police are looking for volunteers to help them track down the Bruja Fights tonight.”
I slipped my hands into my pockets before they could shake. “Oh yeah?”
Her mouth tightened. “Your Papá is too busy to help track down the criaturas who stole away his own daughter, but I am not.” Her eyes flashed with something hot and brassy. My chest tightened. “Stay here and stay safe, mija. Lock all the doors. I’ll be back sometime after midnight.”
“But Mamá, it’s dangerous,” I said. “You haven’t let me out at night—it’s not safe for you either.”
She opened the front door. “I have experience with criaturas, mija. I am not afraid, and I am not weak.”
My toes curled at the implication. “But Mamá, it’s one thing to take on a criatura when they come to attack you. But running into a den of brujas? That’s—you shouldn’t—”
“Do you remember your tía?”
My shoulders slumped. I should have known this talk was coming. Mamá had found a way to give Juana and me this lecture every year during the criatura months since I was little.
“Mamá, please,” I whispered.
“Tell me what happened to her.”
“She went too often into the desert,” I whispered, reciting what she’d taught me. “And because she was vulnerable and trusting, she was seduced by the power of criaturas and fell to the greed of brujas.”