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

Below me, Coyote dangled from my window frame. He held himself there effortlessly, but somehow, that criatura had been strong enough to shove him out in the first place. He scowled in the direction the spy had disappeared. “That was the Criatura of the Ocelot, but she didn’t have a soul stone. A bruja must have sent her after you.”

“Ocelot?” I hadn’t seen that criatura at the Bruja Fights yet, from what I remembered. But maybe she’d just been in matches I hadn’t paid attention to. “Wait, so you think a bruja’s spying on me? But why?”

“Probably to find your weakness and use it against you in the Bruja Fights.” Coyote swung himself back inside. “It’s a good thing your parents are gone, or that could’ve been a lot worse. Ocelot’s known to be a pretty strong fighter when she wants to be.” He glared out the window again.

Panic buzzed in my chest. How long had Ocelot been watching us? Had she heard me say I didn’t want to be a bruja last night? My palms started to sweat. No, no. Coyote would have noticed her if she’d been there. She’d probably just come this morning. Yeah. Hopefully. Because if she hadn’t—

“What do you think they’d do to me?” I whispered.

Coyote turned back around, still squatting on the windowsill. “Huh?”

“If a bruja found out I wasn’t really what I say I am. They’d probably report me to someone, right? Like El Silbón? Would he—come after me?” I wrapped my arms around myself for comfort. “Would El Cucuy—”

Coyote jumped inside and landed in front of me. “It doesn’t matter because you’re not getting caught,” he said a little too loudly. “El Cucuy doesn’t leave Devil’s Alley anyway. He’d probably send his Dark Saints if anything, since they’re in charge of guarding the entrance. I made sure guarding Devil’s Alley was top priority when I Named it—”

He cut off suddenly. I dropped my arms in surprise. Coyote’s cheeks flushed, and he stood there, silent, clearly mortified, as his soul’s colors bled to a stark white. That was the first time I’d heard him talk about his role in making Devil’s Alley. My mind flashed back to Little Lion’s words from last night.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

He winced a little but nodded.

“Last night you said Devil’s Alley is a terrible place, and Little Lion said it’s a prison. So—why did you make it? In your last life, I mean.”

Coyote hesitated and then looked out the window again, his eyes searching for the dawning sun. “You have to understand, Cece—I know a lot of my last life’s story, but that’s all it is to me. A story. It doesn’t even feel like I lived the things I did then, even if I remember parts of it.” He rubbed his arm. “So, if you ask me why I made Devil’s Alley, I don’t . . . really know. I don’t have a personal connection to it. Just facts.” He swallowed. “Like I read pieces of my own history book.”

I stared at his profile as the white in his soul dissolved into gray. For me, he had been just a legend Mamá told me by the fire. But he’d been a legend who I’d admired. Now, I wondered if that’s what he felt, too: the small, lost feeling of looking into a story for guidance to be whatever you’re supposed to be.

Or maybe even for what you’re not.

Standing at the window, he was just a thirteen-year-old boy learning about who he was. Just like me. Just like most of us.

He looked down at his feet. “I just know that I thought Devil’s Alley would fix things.” His face curled with a sudden, seething vengeance. I nearly stepped back as his scowl deepened. “I don’t know why I thought that. All I ever did was make everything—everyone—worse.” He kicked the wall. A sharp pop of red burst through his soul. “I was so stupid.”

“Hey, hey.” I tiptoed closer, reaching for his shoulder. “You were doing your best, Coyote.”

His soul simmered down, and the color faded back to a light gray. I touched his shoulder. Slowly, he met my eyes. “You think so?”

I smiled a little. Sure, making Devil’s Alley wasn’t a great decision, but he probably didn’t mean it to be a bad place originally. And anyway, that was his last life. “Everyone makes mistakes. Even the Great Namer, right?”

“Right . . .” He pressed his lips together. “Even the Great Namer . . . Names mistakes.” He jumped a little. “I mean makes mistakes.”

I squinted at him. He was agreeing with me, but something about him still seemed off. The gray in his soul hadn’t disappeared. Was there something he wasn’t telling me?

He didn’t exactly seem up to sharing. So, I patted his shoulder and then grabbed a crochet jacket at the end of my bed. I signaled for Coyote to turn around, and once he had, changed out of my bruja’s outfit quickly. Coyote was still looking the other way (with his eyes covered for extra insurance) by the time I was dressed for the day. “Well, this morning’s been terrifying already, but I have bad news. I have to go to the Sun Sanctuary.”

Coyote finally dropped his hands from his eyes as I turned to the hatch door. “Wait, you mean by yourself? Someone just sent a criatura to spy on you! You shouldn’t go alone.”

“I’ve got to. Juana used to take food to the Sun Priestesses every Sunday, and it’s my job now.” I started down the ladder. It was tempting, but I couldn’t not go. If Ocelot didn’t kill me, my parents would.

“Well, I’ll come with you.”

“Sure, if we want to get caught by the police.” I hit the first floor. “Your eyes are gold, Coyote. And look at your hair!”

He peered up at the white curl dangling over his forehead. Then shook his head. “What if I shift into my coyote form? Then no one would know I was a criatura.”

I squirmed a little. Would I prefer