Cece Rios and the Desert of Souls by Kaela Rivera (online e book reading .txt) 📕

“I guess it’s your turn to be under a bruja’s thumb. How’s it feel to have finally gotten what’s coming to you, Great Namer?”

Coyote didn’t respond, his gold eyes flat and unbothered. But a distant twist of gray snaked through my chest. He was obviously uncomfortable. I glared back at El Silbón. What did he mean about Coyote getting what was coming to him?

“So, can we go?” I asked.

He sighed. “Humans are so impatient. Fine, fine. You’re registered. Go on inside and wait until I call you up.” He scribbled on the pad of paper. “Today we’re holding four-body elimination rounds. You’ll be in the first one. If you survive that, you’ll automatically be entered in tomorrow’s two one-on-one battles. And if you win those”—he glanced up and down at me like he thought it was doubtful—“you’ll have one semifinal round before the Finals. Got it? Good. Now, get going.”

I opened my mouth to ask more questions—a four-body elimination round sounded kind of terrifying—but he shooed me away. Reluctantly, I left the line and headed for the factory.

“What was that about?” I asked Coyote. “El Silbón was kind of mean to you.”

He looked away. “He’s a dark criatura. Of course he’s mean.”

I was going to press for more, but just then we entered the building, and the noise of drums, chatter, and excited roars crushed down on us.

Music thumped and pounded and just generally sounded like a toddler having a tantrum. The brujas and brujos were obvious in the crowd with shaved hair like mine, or dyes meant for blankets and clothes staining the ends of their hair or even their scalps. A surprising number of regular townspeople were also present. I didn’t recognize any of them, but more importantly, I hoped none of them would recognize me. Though it was unlikely they’d report me—they’d be in just as much trouble for being here as I was.

Coyote nudged me. “Look over there.”

He gestured across the floor, at three brujas and their criaturas all eyeing each other like meals. One in particular caught my eye, with hair shaved on either side of her head. She stood beside a ferocious-looking young man with sharp green eyes.

“Those are our three opponents,” Coyote said. “Most of their criaturas aren’t too much to worry about, but we’ll have to watch out for the green-eyed one, Scorpion. He’s known for being bloodthirsty.”

A knot formed in my throat. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Hey, don’t make that face.” Coyote frowned at me. “You look scared.”

I pulled into myself. “That criatura killed my abuela.”

Coyote paused. I avoided his eyes and set my jaw. He reached out to me but dropped his hand before he touched my shoulder. “Cece,” he said, leaning down. I stiffened at his closeness, but the noise and chants and smells bled away as he looked at me. “You went into the criatura quarries alone. You fought off Cantil Snake. You saved my life. You even tricked Grimmer Mother.”

I stared at him. His stone soul grew warm inside my shirt.

His eyes brightened in the dim lighting. “You can do this and still keep your soft heart.” He squeezed my arm gently. “You can. Okay?”

I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say. The way he looked at me—it was like he needed to believe I could do this as much as I did. I looked at him and, despite everything my people were supposed to believe about criaturas, trusted him.

“Okay,” I whispered and hesitantly gripped the back of Coyote’s shirt. “Can you help me push toward the ring?” If we were the first fighters, I’d rather get into position now.

Coyote nodded. My heart beat faster and faster as he pushed us through the crowd. Brujas scowled at my hunched pose. They could see it; practically anyone could tell I didn’t belong in a place like this, doing things like this. What would they do with me if they realized I wasn’t cut from the same cruel cloth as them? Being Tía Catrina’s niece wouldn’t save me. Would they feed me to their criaturas? Or worse—turn me over to the criatura authorities like El Cucuy before I had time to save Juana?

No, I couldn’t think like that. Slowly, I forced my back to straighten. I lifted my chin, even though I was shaking. The fighting ring came into sight. I had never been able to convince my town that I wasn’t their weakest link, but for Juana, I would pretend to be a bruja.

Like she’d always told me—I had to at least try.

“Welcome everyone to this year’s Bruja Fights!” El Silbón, cloaked in his long, light-eating jacket, stood at the center of the room. He climbed up a pile of old crates that must’ve once been used to ship silver. At the top, he threw his head back and let out a high-pitched, energetic grito—an undulating howl, signaling the beginning of something great. The spectators cheered. “We’re disgusted and impressed to see how many brujas and brujos have shown up this year. At the end of this tournament, El Cucuy will be pleased to welcome up to five of the fiercest among you into his castle in Devil’s Alley. Who’s ready to join the most powerful regime in all the world?”

The brujas howled and chanted and hollered their dedication. I pumped my fist awkwardly.

“So here’s a reminder of the rules for all you fresh, squirming apprentices!” El Silbón shouted. “One, brujas and brujos aren’t allowed inside the chalk circle during the battle. And two, they must make their criaturas fight until their opponents are no longer capable of fighting back. Whoever’s left wins. Got it?”

Someone banged a pair of drums. My chest felt tight and icy as Coyote and I stopped just short of the battlefield.

It was just a large circle on the dusty concrete floor. It had been marked with chalk, and already some of the circle had been smudged by feet and hands. On the other side of the circle, the bruja I’d