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

soft. He stared at me like I’d appeared from nowhere and might disappear the same way at any moment. Slowly, I took his peace offering.

We shook hands and looked at each other with a new understanding. I knew his pain. He knew my truth. Coyote crossed the distance and stopped beside us. We looked up at him.

“You,” he said, narrowing his eyes on me, “are no bruja.”

I straightened my shoulders, ready to stand up to him too, because I wasn’t going to feel bad about not being cruel any more—

“And that,” he continued, his face softening, “is why you’re stronger than them all.”

20

Kit Fox

About an hour later, Coyote, Little Lion, and I arrived at the old corn mill to the north of Tierra del Sol, well past the Ruins—the backup location for the Bruja Fights’ semifinals.

It wasn’t quite as large as the abandoned processing plant, but the mill was surrounded by thick boulders and stones that eventually climbed into the edge of the cerros, giving it that same discomforting feel.

Coyote and I pushed our way into the building. Little Lion had decided to stay outside, and I figured he could do with the time to think. Inside, decaying wooden crates had been cleared away and stacked against the walls, so there was space for the fighting and jeering. A fight was already underway. I didn’t bother to check out the fighters, just weaved through the crowd to a more out-of-the-way spot by the wall.

Coyote fell in beside me. “We should be up next.”

Fantastic. Except “fantastic” was probably the exact opposite of the feeling I got every time we had to defeat another criatura. Coyote gave me a quick, comforting smile. I smiled back.

Then Coyote’s face fell.

“What?” I asked.

“There are brujas and brujos here,” he whispered.

I snorted. “That’s not exactly news—”

“Not apprentices, Cece.” His eyebrows lowered as he stared into the crowd. “This time, there are real brujas and brujos. From Devil’s Alley.”

The words hardened in my gut. I followed Coyote’s gaze and found the true brujas among the horde of people. There were a couple against a wall, one near the fighting ring, a few sitting on old bricks, overlooking the fights. But one brujo—the last one our eyes rested on—stood tall in the opposite corner of the building, his glowing purple eyes locked directly on me.

My heart nearly stopped.

It was the brujo I’d spoken with at the previous two fights, the one who had complimented me—and then questioned me. But there was no residue of his friendly smile today, not even an attempt at it. Now, he smirked across the room at me, and his glowing gaze was filled with shadows and hunger.

“I know him,” I whispered. “He asked me why I wanted to be a bruja.”

Coyote reached behind my back and took my hand. “He’s definitely a real brujo, Cece. One from Devil’s Alley.” He glanced down at me. “Just look at his eyes. They’re bright violet.”

So I hadn’t been imagining that. The color had really been there—and focused on me.

“But why would a real brujo be here at the Bruja Fights?” I asked. “He doesn’t need to prove himself.”

Across the distance, the brujo twitched two fingers. At first, I thought he was beckoning me, but then a boy came out from the shadows behind him and stood in full view.

The boy was obviously a criatura. He looked younger than me, maybe by a year or two, and had dusty white hair and tanned skin. Much lighter skin than mine, but obviously marked by the sun. I raised an eyebrow as I realized what I was seeing on his head. Ears—kit fox ears, oversized and adorable—perched on his crown. The brujo stroked the hair between them.

Coyote’s jaw clenched.

“What now?” I whispered. “Do you know that criatura?”

“Not exactly.” Coyote’s hand tightened on mine. “I haven’t met him in this life. But look at his ears—every time a criatura regrows, they get a bit weaker, right? Well, he looks around our age, but he still hasn’t gotten the hang of transforming his ears away. That’s not normal.”

I caught on to what he was saying: the criatura’s soul must be in pretty bad shape. Maybe even on its last lifetime. I met his warm, caramel eyes across the room.

“Why has his brujo brought him here?” I whispered. “He doesn’t look like a fighter.”

Coyote frowned. “He doesn’t exactly get a choice.”

The current fight ended, and El Silbón took his place in the ring again. The light swept over his black coat and boots. “Well, comadres and compadres, that was a great fight to start out our semifinal round. Now, it’s time to see one of our come-from-behind favorites! Let’s greet last night’s interrupted fighter, Bruja Cece!”

I locked my knees so I wouldn’t jump.

“And it looks like Cece’s brought back the legendary Coyote! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an apprentice capable of carrying two criatura souls at the same time, so don’t underestimate this one.” El Silbón gestured at my neck. I tucked the two necklaces in my shirt.

El Silbón turned to the opposite corner to introduce the brujo and Kit Fox halfway across the mill. “And here, ready to face off against Cece and Coyote, we have a special guest.”

El Silbón’s voice echoed through the mill, suddenly harsh and dark, crisp and electric. Everyone turned to look at the pair. Kit Fox looked even more fragile, but the brujo’s eyes flashed a bright, chilling purple. My pulse picked up. He really was from Devil’s Alley.

So why was I fighting him?

This was supposed to be a contest for apprentices. In time to the beating drum, Coyote and I pressed our way through the horde of spectators. Their quick glances and churning murmurs focused on the brujo, who watched us as he and Kit Fox made their way to the ring. I swallowed. Why were they making me fight a real brujo? Was that normal for a semifinal round? Grimmer Mother had never mentioned this.

Around us, members of the