Bruja Born

by Zoraida Cordova

“What’s the point of this power?” I shout. “Why do we have powers if, when it matters, you want to sit back and let people die?”

  “No, baby.” Lady clicks her tongue and wags a finger at me. “You don’t get to lecture us on how to use our power. We’ve earned our right to live peacefully, by our own terms. Maks is unresponsive. He’s practically—”

  “Lady,” Mom stops her.

  “Get out,” I say, the machines hooked up to me beeping loudly. “All of you.”

  The sickly sweet smell of Valeria’s pie is suddenly making me nauseous.

  “I said get out.” My voice is hoarse and the scream scratches my still-tender throat.

  The nurse comes in to kick everyone out.

  I turn my face to the side so I don’t have to look at any of them. I know most of this was a charade so they wouldn’t suspect my true plan. But we all meant what we said. Some words you just can’t take back.

  “There.” Nurse Yana adds another pillow under my head and pulls the covers over me. Her hair is disheveled and her eyes tired and puffy, but she tries to smile. “I know it’s hard. But you’re alive and you’re strong. It’s a miracle.”

  But I want to tell her, “It’s not a miracle. It’s magic.”

  The door opens again and in comes Alex and Rose.

  “No more visitors,” Yana says. “You need to rest.”

  “Please,” I say. “They’re my sisters.”

  Nurse Yana purses her lips, but she caves, winking a big, brown eye. “Just for tonight. The staff is already so busy with run-of-the-mill murders.”

  I must have a bewildered expression on my face because Nurse Yana blanks and scrambles for something to say. “Sorry, it’s been a long night. You two, no upsetting the patient.”

  “Scout’s honor,” Rose says, and we watch the nurse scuttle out of the room.

  “When have you ever been a Girl Scout?” Alex asks, gathering her hair into a high ponytail.

  Rose shrugs. “I don’t know. That’s what people say when they want to be believed in the movies. I could be a Girl Scout.”

  “Yes, yes,” I say, pulling my covers off to stretch my legs, even though I hurt from my finger joints to my toes.

  “Did you bring the book?” I ask Rose, my words coming in a rush.

  She holds up her backpack and pats it with her hand. “And supplies.”

  “Did you really have to take my voice?” I turn to Alex, rubbing my throat.

  She coughs, already feeling the recoil. “It had to be convincing. They won’t suspect a thing.”

  “How did you get that off Lady?” I ask out of curiosity.

  “An encantrix never reveals her secret.” She holds up the necklace of a dozen tiny mirrors.

  “Transportation canto,” Rose says.

  “Can you not?” Alex hisses.

  I assess everything we have. I hold the prex Gustavo gave me. Onyx for the dead, for the spirits. Always given to the sickly and ill. I take a tiny pleasure in knowing that his gift is helping us complete the canto.

  It’s all here. Hold on, Maks. Please hold on.

  Alex helps me out of bed and says, “Let’s wake up your sleeping beauty.”

  7

  Follow my voice, my love, my love.

  Death cannot tear us apart.

  Take my hand, my love, my love.

  Follow the light of my heart.

  —Lula’s Healing Canto, Book of Cantos

  We go over the plan once again.

  After our parents went home for the first time in four days, Alex helped me put on a loose nightgown. Naked, I traced the horrible scar on the lower left side of my belly, where they pulled out the metal pole.

  As my sisters pack up everything we need, I wonder if one day I’ll be more than a patchwork of scars.

  “We have the Book, onyx, and blessed mirrors, candles, matches, Alex’s dagger, and a bundle of desert sage for added witchery,” Rose says. She’s in charge of supplies because she’s the most organized.

  “We’ll do a few laps around the floor so as to not raise suspicion before going to Maks’s room,” Alex says.

  “Then comes the easy part.” I chuckle nervously.

  “Healing Maks so he comes off life support? Right. Easy.” Alex gnaws at her bottom lip like it’s second breakfast. “You’ll have to cut yourself for this. Cantos like this require blood. Lots of it. Are you ready for that?”

  My heartbeat spikes. My power is to heal, not to destroy. And yet, it’s the only choice I can see. Alex has her own scar on her wrist from when she closed the portal to Los Lagos. If the gods require blood, I’m prepared to give it to them. “I’ll make myself ready.”

  Alex holds my stare. “Then let me ask you this. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

  “Don’t,” I tell her. “You said you’d give me this one try.”

  “I know you believe we’re doing the right thing,” she says. “But you saw how the High Circle reacted. A literal actual goddess revealed herself to you. You said Maks’s name was on her creepy death list. We might be going up against Lady de la Muerte. Even if you’re not afraid of that, you’ve always feared the Circle.”

  Part of me wants to tell her about another name I saw on there. Noveno. Nova. I mean, how many Novenos are there in the world? It has to be him. But I need her focused, so I don’t.

  Rose stays silent and brings my chair around. She’s our peaceful middle ground.

  “The High Circle is wrong.” Words I never thought I’d say.

  “Since when have you thought that way?” Alex asks.

  “Since they were willing to let me die.”

  • • •

  Alex pushes my chair, and we start to make our way to Maks’s room on the other end of the floor.

  Hospitals give me the creeps. I’m a healer, and places like this make me feel as if my magic is being dampened by the wires and tubes and needles. I hold on to Rose’s hand tighter to make the feeling stop.

  “I hate it here too,” she says. She can’t focus right when she’s surrounded by so many people who are crossing over. “It’s like a bus station for the spirits.”

  That makes us laugh, but we stop as a nurse rushes past us. She’s too busy to look at the way I grip the armrest settle on or how I can’t stop my legs from trembling. When we turn the corner, we pass metal racks of supplies and more people rushing back and forth. No one stops to look at us or ask where we’re going.

  Except one.

  A nurse.

  He looks up from his chart as we approach. There’s something that makes him look out of place. His scrubs are a lighter blue than the others, and his brown hair is tied back at the nape of his neck. His face looks much too young to be working here, but he’s got the dark circles of someone who works these graveyard shifts often.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asks.

  “Just tired of staring at the wall,” I say. My heart leaps at the thought that he’d make us go back. He’s going to ruin everything. I look up at Alex. “Let’s go.”

  But he stands in my way, brown eyes taking in my state from head to toe. “Is your TV not working? I can get someone to fix it for you.”

  “No.” I grab the wheels of my chair. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

  “You’ve gone through a lot,” he says, lowering onto one knee. At eye level, I can see the thick, red scar that cuts across his stark black eyebrow. When he frowns, he looks older, maybe twenty, but still not old enough to be a nurse. “You need to rest.”

  I take a deep breath. I stare at the nurse’s scar. It’s on the same side as mine.

  When his eyes settle on my scar, I feel a flash of anger. I don’t want him to look at me. I need him to get out of my way. I need to get to Maks. Everyone here wants me to rest. Be calm. Be glad I’m alive. So I’ll do just that.
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br />   “Just one more lap,” I say and smile. “Please.”

  His features soften, and when he stands back up, a lock of his hair falls over his eye. He smirks, like an animated prince, and blows it away.

  “All right. But if I check on you and you aren’t there—”

  “We’ll make sure she gets rest,” Alex promises. She glances at Rose. “Scout’s honor.”

  Rose gives Alex a glare that could burn her alive.

  He nods and then goes back to his clipboard. His shiny, black shoes echo as he walks back down the hall. But when he turns a corner, the coast is clear.

  “Let’s go,” I say.

  And without hesitating, Alex pushes my chair toward Maks’s room. The sound of wheels spinning on the tiled floor fills my ears. My heart squeezes like someone’s got their hand in my chest and is trying to crush it because all I can think is, What if I’m too late?

  “Coast is clear.” Rose opens the door to his room, and we go in.

  Maks is alone in the dark. I turn on the light on the bedside table, casting an amber glow on the sterile white walls. There are tubes in his throat, tabs and wires trailing from his temples, wrists, and heart. His face is stitched up across his forehead and his cheek, which is red and swollen. The hospital gown makes his skin appear even more gray, except where purple bruises the size of fists cover his arms. Despite all of that, his hair is parted neatly to the side, and I know Mrs. Horbachevsky must’ve only just left because he smells like fresh soap and her rosary is resting on the table beside him.

  “Lula?” Alex gently taps my shoulder, a reminder that we have to get moving.

  First, we hang lady’s necklace over the door. The mirrors are bathed in sacred waters and blessed with her magic. That way, during the canto, any spirit, alive or dead, human or immortal, will walk right past. We’re invisible and in plain sight. I’d smile at how clever I feel, but I can’t. Not until Maks can breathe on his own.

  Next, I hold his still-warm hand as my sisters pull the bed toward the center of the room.

  Rose sets up a circle of squat, silver candles and Alex readies the Book of Cantos at the foot of the bed.

  I undo the back of his hospital gown and move it down just enough to expose his chest. My breath catches at the sight of scars, red like a nest of snakes settled on his chest. I hold my hand over his heart. I release a pulse of magic. His heartbeat reacts to it, like he recognizes me. I don’t care what anyone says. He’s still in there.

  “Ready?” I ask my sisters.

  “Almost,” Rose says, lighting the candles with a metal lighter.

  Her hand shakes, and she makes a gasping noise, like she’s choking. The lighter falls to the floor and its clatter reverberates in the eerie stillness.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m okay now. I felt someone cross over,” Rose says, clutching her chest. Her eyes are glossy and she fumbles to finish lighting the candles. “It’s not usually this strong. I think—I think she’s here.”

  Alex parts the blinds with her index finger. She motions for me to look. I drag my legs to the window, and every step feels like I’m walking on broken glass.

  A shadow inches its way down the hall. It never touches the floor, the black cloak rippling on air. I recognize the white hand gripping the onyx spear. She clicks it on the ground, leaving sparks in her wake.

  Lady de la Muerte is here to collect.

  “We have to hurry.”

  Finally, Rose finishes lighting the candles and a bundle of sage. She stands at the foot of Maks’s bed and Alex stations herself to the left. I use the metal railing on the side of his bed to balance myself. I press my hand on my stomach where my scar burns like a warning.

  “I’m going to save you,” I whisper.

  Alex draws her dagger from her waistband and hands it to me. It’s small, with a handle made of moonstone, and has a small leather sheath.

  “Do it,” I say and take the dagger from her.

  Alex holds her hands out, the air around us shifting instantly.

  She conjures a wind stream that flows from her body, through Rose, and into me. There isn’t any power attached to it, and at first, it’s like playing with a strong breeze. It’s to get the flow of energy correct, cycling through the three of us, and then into Maks.

  I extend my arm over Maks’s torso. I drag the blade from my palm, up my forearm, and stop at the inside of my elbow. My blood falls in a red river, running across the muscles of his chest like water around mountains.

  The gash doesn’t hurt right away, but everything else does. My bones, my muscles, my heart. I take a deep breath to steady myself because my vision spins.

  “Alex,” I say, to remind her that she can’t change her mind now.

  She claps her hands together, pulling on her power, on the essence of the flames, on the smoke wafting from the sage. The blood magic pulses harder, in a way other cantos can’t. Blood magic is the strongest of any kind. We sacrifice it because all gods ask for it. Blood is life. Blood is everything.

  “She’s getting closer,” Rose says, eyes shut. Her arms are outstretched, palms out, like she’s stopping two force fields from closing against her.

  “Now!” I say.

  It’s my turn to do my part.

  We join hands, forming a triangle over him.

  Healing isn’t like other cantos. It’s not about the words or ingredients. It’s about what’s in your heart. Maybe Alex and Rose don’t love Maks, but they love me, and I can use that.

  I clear my mind and think of the power I’ve held dear for so long. My magic rises when I call upon it, just like it did for Alex when I taught her how to heal in Los Lagos—the very thought of Los Lagos sends a shudder down my body that I’m sure my sisters can feel. My mind latches on to that pain, flashing to a more recent memory. Maks in his car, trying his hardest not to look at me. It’s like your fire is gone, he said.

  “Lula?” Alex calls out.

  “I’m fine. I can do this.”

  I shut my eyes harder. Search for love in my heart. My whole life, I’ve tried to love as fiercely as I could. But didn’t Alex tell me once that I gave my heart away too easily?

  “Lula!” Rose this time.

  “I got it,” I say, but there’s a shadow around my power, and it clings like everlasting night. I know I have to push through. Little by little, I let the light in. I find it in small moments, like Maks’s smile and his laugh. The way he never let go of my hand when we were together. The way he looked at me that made me feel as if he’d never get enough. The way he reached for me when the bus was crashing, using his body to protect mine.

  My healing energy starts to flood through me, and I let it flow in the current Alex created at the start of the canto. It cycles through her, then to Rose, then back to me. Again and again, catching momentum until it hits the center of my chest.

  Alex is so powerful that the touch of her magic makes my entire body sigh as I experience the exquisite relief from pain, as if I’m made of nothing but feathers. I’ve never felt power like this. But with it comes a darkness too, twisting around the one I already have in my heart, like two energies fighting for dominance.

  Next is Rose. Rose’s power is like the slip of day into night. You don’t notice it until it’s completely dark. Rose’s power makes the skin on my arms tingle with cold. It’s like turning up my face to the sky and letting snowflakes kiss my skin. It’s pure, and the brightness of it nearly overpowers Alex’s and mine completely.

  We are three points of energy linking like chains until we are one force, and I direct that current into Maks.

  “Follow my voice, my love, my love,” I say, shuddering with the euphoria of this power. “Death cannot tear us apart. Take my hand, my love, my love. Follow the light of my heart.”

  My head feels like clouds drifting across a clear sky. I don
’t know if I’m the one swaying or if the floor has turned into soft earth.

  “Lula!” Rose snaps me to the present. Here. Now. Maks.

  I’m okay, I think, but can’t speak it. I finish the canto. I help guide our powers to heal his wounds. I start with his ribs. The crash turned the right side of his rib cage into a mosaic of bones, and I focus on mending the breaks. A warm trickle of blood runs down my belly.

  “Lula!” Alex shouts.

  I’m falling to my knees. The pain in my ribs is too much to withstand, but still I bite down on the scream.

  “We should stop,” Rose says.

  “If you stop,” I say, “I will never forgive you.”

  Rose gasps, and her eyes get cloudy and faraway, her body lifts a foot into the air. Her voice is strange, like someone is speaking through her, “Do not betray the Deos, Lula Mortiz.”

  Rose lands back on her feet and starts to pull her hands away from us, but once we break our hold, the bond will be severed and we won’t be able to finish healing Maks. I hold on as hard as I can, by the tips of my fingers, because his life depends on it.

  Rose’s eyes return to their normal color. “La Muerte is not happy.”

  “Lula.” Alex.

  “Lula.” Rose.

  My ears pop, like I’m being plunged deep into the sea. The recoil is hitting me hard, and I can hear my heart beat in every corner of my body. My skin feels tight, pulled from all sides, and I fear I might tear myself into ceasing to exist.

  But I have to be strong. The light of our magic moves across Maks’s ribs, then travels down to mend his spine and pelvic bone. I move to his organs, his collapsed lung that needs help breathing. I direct our power toward his chest, but it curves away. I try again, pushing the energy to mend his heart, but I hit a wall.

  Something is blocking my magic. I push hard against the invisible force, but it’s like running straight into a barricade.

  “It’s not working,” I cry out. “Alex, why isn’t it working?”

  “I don’t know!” I can feel her panic, her doubts, and realize it’s part of our power being linked.

  A red light pulses in the room over Maks’s body.