“Because it’s hungry?” Nova says darkly.
Agosto looks him up and down. His lip curls, but he composes himself. “Because the need for power is endless. You feel it too. Your power is free in the meadow.”
“Does the meadow do something to us? Does it make our power grow?” I wrap my hands around the roots of my chair. My magic connects with the essence in these living things, and it calms my nerves.
Agosto shakes his head. “No, but the meadow allows you to put away other worries long enough to let your magic come forward. Look at how you bested Xara.”
“Who’s Xara?” Rishi asks.
“The Devourer’s real name,” I say.
“Long ago, that was her human name,” Agosto says. “She was just a bruja then, banished here by the Deos for a crime we’ll never know. She simply appeared. Some, bewitched by her beauty, pledged allegiance to her. I admit, I was one of them. Others staked their claim on their own lands and shunned her. The Bone Valle used to be the Valle Azul, a sect of brujas and brujos that dedicated their lives to the ancient ways lived there and in the mountains. They saw the Devourer as an intruder. The more land she possessed, the more the tribes defied her. The witches were the ones who planned to kill her. One of their seers saw the threat. But they did not act in time. Overnight, the sky was red and the earth was scorched. The Valle Azul became a desert, their bodies left in heaps.
“She claimed the heart of the land as her fortress and raised the labyrinth around the Tree of Souls. You see, the tree feeds the land. Without the life of the tree, the land cannot be replenished.”
“What happened to you guys?”
“I disobeyed her.” There’s a quiet shudder that passes through the adas. “We were one of the first to welcome her, but the more land she burned and sucked the life out of, the more I feared. We allied with the avianas and remaining tribes. We lost. The birds stay in their caves. The starlarks hide beneath the earth. As for us, she wouldn’t let us get away. There are entire generations who will never know what it’s like to roam Los Lagos freely. They’ll never know what it’s like to sleep under the shade of the Forest of Lights or run through the Valle Azul. Yes, Xara spared us. But our lives are a punishment every day and every night.”
“Why didn’t you let her take me?” I ask. “Your job was to hold me here until she arrived, wasn’t it?”
Agosto looks down. He tilts back and forth, like he’s adjusting to the absence of one horn.
“Because you remind me of someone,” he says.
“Who?” I press.
“An Alta Bruja of old. Her name was Kristi?e. She wanted to return Los Lagos to the way it was before Xara started feeding off the Tree of Souls.”
“Hold on,” Rishi says. “Why don’t your Deos stop her? If they created this land, can’t they just undo what she’s done?”
There’s a snicker. “Do your gods grant easy wishes?” Rodriga asks.
“The last time I checked, they were busy.” Rishi’s cheeks are pink with embarrassment. “But something this evil has to catch someone’s attention.”
“It’s gotten her attention,” Rodriga says, pointing to me. “The Devourer sends her demons to search for great power because she can’t do it for herself. She found you. You wear the symbol of El Papa on your chain. The Deos chose you for this.”
“This was just a gift from my father. Not the Deos.” I shake my head. “I’ve never been the bravest or best bruja in my community. I’m just a girl.”
“Don’t say that,” Rishi says. “Look at everything you’ve done.”
“Encantrix,” Agosto says, trying to get my attention to focus. “To free your family, you must release them from the tree. The tree is the key to Xara’s defeat. You have the power and the freedom to challenge her the way none of us have before, and perhaps once you save your family, you will free Los Lagos as well.”
I press my palm to my chest. Feel my heart racing. If my family were with me, they’d say that this is my destiny. A few days ago, I would’ve brushed off the thought that fate weaves the strings of life together. Today, I’m one step closer to making amends for my betrayal. The Devourer wants to hurt me, but I can return that favor. It’s more than just the Tree of Souls. Her destruction reaches this meadow and the avianas. Where will she go when there’s nothing left to destroy?
I hold out my hand, and Agosto takes it. I hold his dark stare with my own, and for the first time since we arrived, I feel like I’m on the right path.
I walk with him to the center of the meadow, where the banquet tree table is now empty. Since I broke the glamour, the source of the chains is in plain sight. There’s a spike staked deep into the wood.
“I’ve tried, encantrix,” Agosto says, tugging on the metal. “I try every day.”
“But I haven’t.” I wave my hand over the wood. The traces of the Devourer’s power writhe against my own.
I rub my hands together, and a ball of blue energy burns between my palms. I pull power from the soles of my feet, the pit of my stomach, and my fast-beating heart. I picture the Devourer’s face, hidden under a mask of death, and I let my power go. The table splinters into a thousand bits, and blue flame rains down. A sharp pain stabs my heart, and for a moment, I can feel the Devourer’s wrath.
Agosto struggles to breathe. He looks down at his hands in wonder. The manacles come undone, and the chains fall to the ground. The adas weep from joy. They embrace each other. They kiss my hands and feet. They run past the circle of trees and shout at the top of their lungs.
“Now,” I tell Agosto, “show me the path to the labyrinth.”
27
I believe the Deos fight as fiercely as they love.
—Philomeno Constancio Cruz, Book of Cantos
Before we go, the adas surround me. They want to touch my hair and hands and feet. They cry and pinch themselves to make sure they aren’t dreaming.
“Bless you,” an older ada tells me. Her hair is silver as starlight and her dark skin is wrinkled like a raisin. “Bless you a thousand times, encantrix.”
“You are the visage of La Tormenta, wife of El Cielo,” another tells me.
I want to pull away, to tell them that I’m still far away from winning, that this is too much. But their hope is pure, and I’ve let myself go without it for too long.