“What are you doing?” Mom asks, trying to reach over Valeria to get to Alex, but the High Circle stops her.
“Let Alejandra speak,” Valeria says, motioning her hand toward my sister.
“Lula saw Lady de la Muerte. She spoke to her during the accident.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s like there’s sand in my throat, even though my air passages are clear.
Some of the High Circle members trade serious glances. Others place trembling hands over their chests. Gustavo whispers a prayer to El Papa, Ruler of the Moon and Father to All the Deos.
“Tell me what you have seen,” Lady commands me.
I slap my hand on the bed and point to my throat.
“Oh, right,” Alex says, opening her hand and releasing my voice. The sensation is like gargling salt. My throat is raw and grainy, and I swear I’ll enjoy the recoil she gets from doing that to me.
I cough a few times before saying, “Yes. Lady de la Muerte appeared to me.”
Their collective gasp might as well have sucked out the air from the room.
Helena holds her hands together. “What did she look like?”
“How can you be sure it was her?” Gustavo asks skeptically.
“We have to let Lula speak,” Valeria says, reverent tears in her eyes. She’s got the Gift of the Veil, like Rose. Seers are so close to death, but to see a Deo—that’s almost as rare as an encantrix these days. “Go on, Lula.”
Which is why what I’m doing makes me more nervous than I’ve ever been before.
“She’s not the way we depict her,” I tell them. “She defies age. Her skin is almost see-through, with names written all over her arms, and everything around her feels cold. Right before the crash, the temperature dropped. She had a spear made of onyx with a metal tip. She used it to separate the souls from the dead bodies.”
“Incredible. No bruja or brujo has ever seen Lady de la Muerte and lived,” Gustavo says, his features twisting to scrutinize me. “Unless they’re marked.”
“Gustavo, calm down,” Valeria says.
He gets up from his chair, as if the floor has turned into flames and he can’t get out of here quickly enough.
“No!” Gustavo says. “Don’t you see? She was marked by La Muerte. We’re not touching her sinmago. If I could banish your family from the tristate area, it still wouldn’t be enough to get your Mal Ojo from us.”
Everyone is stunned into silence. The Mal Ojo, the evil eye, is the worst curse you can carry with you.
“Tell us how you really feel,” Alex grumbles finally. She looks at me and says, “We have enough problems without bringing down the wrath of the gods. I’m sorry, Lula, but I’m not going to do that. Not again.”
“Right,” I say, venom on my tongue. “It’s all fine when you want to get rid of your magic, but when I need to save the boy I love, you have objections.”
“Your sister is right,” Valeria tells me. “We can pray for him. We can light candles for him. But we cannot interfere when the Deos are involved. We can only ask for them to listen.”
“They stopped listening a long time ago,” I say.
“Watch your tongue, you cursed girl,” Gustavo tells me.
“And you watch yours,” my father counters.
“What’s the point of this power?” I shout. “Why do we have powers if, when it matters, you want to sit back and let people die?”
“No, baby.” Lady clicks her tongue and wags a finger at me. “You don’t get to lecture us on how to use our power. We’ve earned our right to live peacefully, by our own terms. Maks is unresponsive. He’s practically—”
“Lady,” Mom stops her.
“Get out,” I say, the machines hooked up to me beeping loudly. “All of you.”
The sickly sweet smell of Valeria’s pie is suddenly making me nauseous.
“I said get out.” My voice is hoarse and the scream scratches my still-tender throat.
The nurse comes in to kick everyone out.
I turn my face to the side so I don’t have to look at any of them. I know most of this was a charade so they wouldn’t suspect my true plan. But we all meant what we said. Some words you just can’t take back.
“There.” Nurse Yana adds another pillow under my head and pulls the covers over me. Her hair is disheveled and her eyes tired and puffy, but she tries to smile. “I know it’s hard. But you’re alive and you’re strong. It’s a miracle.”
But I want to tell her, “It’s not a miracle. It’s magic.”
The door opens again and in comes Alex and Rose.
“No more visitors,” Yana says. “You need to rest.”
“Please,” I say. “They’re my sisters.”
Nurse Yana purses her lips, but she caves, winking a big, brown eye. “Just for tonight. The staff is already so busy with run-of-the-mill murders.”
I must have a bewildered expression on my face because Nurse Yana blanks and scrambles for something to say. “Sorry, it’s been a long night. You two, no upsetting the patient.”
“Scout’s honor,” Rose says, and we watch the nurse scuttle out of the room.
“When have you ever been a Girl Scout?” Alex asks, gathering her hair into a high ponytail.
Rose shrugs. “I don’t know. That’s what people say when they want to be believed in the movies. I could be a Girl Scout.”
“Yes, yes,” I say, pulling my covers off to stretch my legs, even though I hurt from my finger joints to my toes.
“Did you bring the book?” I ask Rose, my words coming in a rush.
She holds up her backpack and pats it with her hand. “And supplies.”
“Did you really have to take my voice?” I turn to Alex, rubbing my throat.
She coughs, already feeling the recoil. “It had to be convincing. They won’t suspect a thing.”
“How did you get that off Lady?” I ask out of curiosity.
“An encantrix never reveals her secret.” She holds up the necklace of a dozen tiny mirrors.
“Transportation canto,” Rose says.
“Can you not?” Alex hisses.
I assess everything we have. I hold the prex Gustavo gave me. Onyx for the dead, for the spirits. Always given to the sickly and ill. I take a tiny pleasure in knowing that his gift is helping us complete the canto.
It’s all here. Hold on, Maks. Please hold on.
Alex helps me out of bed and says, “Let’s wake up your sleeping beauty.”
7
Follow my voice, my love, my love.
Death cannot tear us apart.
Take my hand, my love, my love.
Follow the light of my heart.
—Lula’s Healing Canto, Book of Cantos
We go over the plan once again.
After our parents went home for the first time in four days, Alex helped me put on a loose nightgown. Naked, I traced the horrible scar on the lower left side of my belly, where they pulled out the metal pole.
As my sisters pack up everything we need, I wonder if one day I’ll be more than a patchwork of scars.
“We have the Book, onyx, and blessed mirrors, candles, matches, Alex’s dagger, and a bundle of desert sage for added witchery,” Rose says. She’s in charge of supplies because she’s the most organized.
“We’ll do a few laps around the floor so as to not raise suspicion before going to Maks’s room,” Alex says.
“Then comes the easy part.” I chuckle nervously.
“Healing Maks so he comes off life support? Right. Easy.” Alex gnaws at her bottom lip like it’s second breakfast. “You’ll have to cut yourself for this. Cantos like this require blood. Lots of it. Are you ready for that?”
My heartbeat spikes. My power is to heal, not to destroy. And yet, it’s the only choice I can see. Alex has her own scar on her wrist from when she closed the portal to Los Lagos. If the gods require blood, I’m prepared to give it to them. “I’ll make myself ready.”
Alex holds my stare. “Then let me ask you this. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”
“Don’t,” I tell her. “You said you’d give me this one try.”