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

and exited the building with Coyote. We’d just made it outside when he stumbled sideways into the exterior wall.

“Coyote!” I went to steady him.

He’d caught himself with his left hand, but it was obvious he’d nearly fallen. His face crumpled. His other hand cupped his stomach, pressing against it.

I rushed forward. “Are you still injured?” I fussed around him, not sure what to do. He swatted my hand away, and I caught sight of blood dotting his shirt. He quickly covered the wound again. “I thought my anger made you better! You took Scorpion down like this?”

“Sí.” He pushed off the wall. I wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him down the street. “Your fury can’t heal me. It just helped dull the pain.”

I stood up as straight as possible, so he could lean on me. The desert was dark on either side.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“It was still impressive for your first fight,” he said. “We’ll do better next time.”

I shook my head. “Not just for that. I mean—we’re partners. I should have asked how to fight alongside you instead of making you do it alone. That was dangerous for both of us.”

He looked down at me, sweaty and a bit unsure. “Partners,” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah. If we’re going to do this, we have to do it together.”

“Like we did with Grimmer Mother,” he said.

I nodded.

A spark came back into his eyes, and he nodded back. “Okay. Well, first thing you should know is that the leaders of Devil’s Alley invented the Bruja Fights to measure a bruja’s inner power—her ability to control a criatura in battle—rather than the strength of the criatura. But it doesn’t have to be that way.” His black and white brows drew down together. “Grimmer Mother was right about one thing—you can push your feelings into me. After a bit of practice, you’ll learn how to pick one emotion to feed into my soul instead of every flash that passes through your heart. That way, you won’t take control of me, and you won’t weaken me like you did earlier. You’ll power me. Make sense?”

Power him, eh? That sounded similar to what Tía Catrina had said about her feelings making her criatura powerful. A chilly breeze swept down the dusty alleyway. I shivered. I was brushing a little too close to Tía Catrina’s life for comfort.

“You really don’t like any of this bruja stuff,” Coyote said. “Do you?”

I didn’t look up at him. If I admitted how much all this disturbed me, I’d probably just get a lecture on how I needed to be stronger, or more fearsome, or less—me.

“What can I do to help you heal?” I asked instead.

The Bruja Fights were every night for the next three days. He had to be ready.

Coyote’s hand shook against his stomach. “Find me a place to rest. Bandage the wound. Feed me. Make sure no one else finds me. I should be all right by Sunday.”

I whipped my head up to look at him. “In two days?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re lucky I wasn’t hurt worse. Criaturas may heal more quickly than humans, but if it’s bad enough and we don’t get the rest and energy we need to recover, we can die.”

Fear climbed up my insides. I clasped his side harder, lending more support, as sweat dripped from his hair.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan for tomorrow night.” He took a hard breath.

“It can wait, let’s just get you home.” I tugged him forward and bore as much of his weight as I could. Which wasn’t as much as I would have liked. “Hey, why don’t you transform into a coyote? Then I can carry you.”

He squinted at me. I raised my eyebrows, making my eyes as big and pleading as possible.

“You won’t make fun of me?” he asked.

I tried not to laugh at the unexpected insecurity. “What? Why would I? I’ve already seen you as a coyote.”

He blushed and looked away. “Fine. But be careful, okay?”

I nodded. In a moment, his body morphed. It was soundless, faster, and less dramatic than I’d expected. He was an illustration, with his lines changing in soft movements, like the flick of a pencil nib. And then he was a young coyote, scraggly and with a long white-tipped tail, hanging in my arms.

“Oompf.” I let out a surprised breath as his weight settled on me. He was heavier than I’d expected.

He glared up at me as I grunted.

“I’m not making fun of you,” I said and tugged off my jacket with one arm. I laid it across his shivering body and bundled it around him. He closed his eyes. A little coil of worry started inside me again. He really did look so tired. “Just hang on, okay? I’ll get you back safely. I promise.”

I took off into the Ruins, a cold fear in my bones. I glanced down at Coyote as I weaved through crumbling buildings. His eyes were still closed, his ears wilted and limp. He looked quiet, trusting. Trusting me to take care of him.

I shook my head and ran faster. This plan of mine was getting complicated.

13

The Life Favor

The next morning, Coyote sat propped up on pillows at the end of my bed, his middle bandaged, drawing in my school notebook.

“I know a guy,” he said, holding the pencil awkwardly. “Well, a criatura. Lives out in the desert. He’s strong and owes me a favor.” He glanced up at me and offered the notebook back. “Use this map to find him, and you can have him compete tonight while I’m healing.”

I took the offering but couldn’t focus on what Coyote was saying. He looked so tired.

We’d made it home safely last night, thank the Sun god. I’d taken a roundabout way, the one Tía Catrina had drawn out in her journal. I’d memorized the path out of nervousness the night before, and I was glad it had paid off. We had to wait a long time in alleys or by