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

snoring. The house was calm and dark, with only the moonlight from the kitchen window to see by. I pumped the tap in the kitchen alcove, and went to test the temperature with my free hand.

The moment my hand touched the water, a strange blue light caught in the clear stream. I jerked my hand back. The light vanished.

I squinted at it. Was I seeing things? I stuck my head out the window. No, the moon was behind clouds now, so it wasn’t that. I turned back to the water faucet. Slowly, I reached for it again. The water spilled down my palm, racing down my arm—and the turquoise shimmer returned.

Where was that light coming from? I leaned in. It wasn’t strong, but a tingle resonated through my skin wherever the water touched. Kind of the way the limpia felt when Dominga del Sol poured the water and herbs over me.

Before I had time to discover more, the front door opened behind me.

I leaped back from the sink. Mamá stepped into the living room, tired, her head hanging low. I was still in my weird clothes and had an obviously bandaged arm. I glanced around. I’d left a crochet shawl on the table earlier. I dove for it and yanked it over my shirt. Fortunately, its strings just about covered all signs of my wound.

“Mamá,” I whispered.

She lifted her head and paused, like she was confused to see me up, or maybe she was blinded by the embarrassing red-and-gold pants peeking out from beneath the shawl. Either way, she smiled a little and came toward me.

She placed her hands on my cheeks, and the iron in her eyes began to melt. “Cece. Did you have another nightmare?”

Oh, right. My pretend nightmare from the other night. “Sí, Mamá,” I whispered.

Papá snored loudly behind us. Mamá’s mouth tensed up, and she glared back at the curtain hiding their shared bed. She lowered her eyebrows, still covered in smudged war paint.

“You’re wearing nocheztli?” I made myself ask, because I wasn’t supposed to have known about it.

She stroked my face. “To keep you and every other chiquita safe, sí, I am.” Her mouth puckered a little, and she pulled a hand back from my face, looking at her palm. It had come away with sweat and streaks of dust. “You’re dirty, mija.” Some of the hardness returned to her mouth. “What were you doing all night while I was away?”

I paused for a beat too long, and my heart sped up. Mamá’s eyes narrowed.

“Herding the goats,” I blurted, a little too loudly. Papá’s next snore was extra noisy, and we both winced. “Um, Dominga del Sol told me that Señora Gutierrez was having hip trouble and couldn’t take her goats out to graze, so I volunteered.”

I was getting pretty good at lying, but it felt worse and worse each time.

Mamá’s mouth tightened. “Mija, I told you to stay inside while I was gone.”

I hunched over. “I know, Mamá—”

“And is that where you were earlier today, then? Speaking with Dominga del Sol?”

Lying was still better than getting caught with criaturas, but only barely. “. . . Yes,” I whispered hesitantly.

She took a long, deep breath, like she was trying not to be as angry as she obviously was. I smiled, like that would help. The red streaks on her face shined like fire.

“No more leaving the house close to dusk,” Mamá said. “I don’t care what for, it’s not worth it. Do you understand?”

I dropped my smile and nodded, shoulders up by my ears.

Her hand slipped away. “Go to sleep, mija,” she said.

I nodded again and scrambled back up the ladder. When I closed the hatch behind me, Coyote was already asleep. I padded over, letting my racing heart slow, and collapsed into bed.

I hated disappointing Mamá. The way she looked at me downstairs, with anger and exhaustion battling in her face, made me want to bury myself away in the desert. But I knew it was infinitely better than how she’d look if she knew I was one of the brujas she may have fought just half an hour ago.

18

The Sun Sanctuary

Sunday morning, I woke up to Coyote’s insistent, low whisper: “Cece, wake up.”

I groaned and tried to snuggle deeper into my blankets. I was so sleepy. But a hand gripped my covers to stop me. “Cece, someone’s watching us.”

My eyes burst open. I found Coyote crouched on the left side of my bed, staring at my window. The sun was only just starting to rise, so the outside world was still mostly made of disguising grays.

“Who?” I whispered. I couldn’t imagine who would want to spy on me. I suddenly wished my parents were home, but I knew they’d probably left at least an hour ago. “I can’t see them.”

Coyote didn’t even blink. “It’s a criatura for sure.” He took a deep sniff through his nose. “Female, I think. Someone older, stronger.”

“Stronger than you or me?” Hopefully it was me.

“Both of us.” His voice went super quiet, and he signaled for me to stay still. I froze beneath my blanket, trying to keep my breathing shallow and silent. He crawled forward, toward the window, careful to keep his head low.

Coyote stopped halfway between the wall and my bed. Slowly, he lifted a finger and pointed to the left side of the window. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes to get a better look. Gold and black braids dangled slightly into view.

My heart bounced up against my throat. A criatura must be hanging just outside my window, on the exterior of my casa. Coyote took a steadying breath, coiled up, and sprang to the window.

“Hey!” He landed on the sill and let out a growl. “What are you—”

A long, dark arm shoved him off-balance. Coyote yelped and toppled out the window.

I leaped out of bed and dashed forward. “Coyote!”

I made it to the window just in time to see a tall, lithe figure disappear around the corner of my house. What the sunset