Cece Rios and the Desert of Souls, Kaela Rivera [english novels for beginners TXT] 📗

teaching me, so I could make the fire breathe in return.”

Oh, wow. The true story of fire was even better than the way our legends recorded it.

Before I could wipe the eager look off my face—I was still such a sucker for Coyote stories—his mouth softened in return. He smiled tentatively, and I grinned back. For a moment, his gaze was less metallic. I was less afraid.

For a moment, we were equals discussing the most successful trade in history.

I wiggled excitedly. “That’s so cool! I can’t believe we have fire because you cared enough to come share your music and dance with us. It’s amazing.” Coyote let out a single, awkward chuckle. I settled back in my bed and looked him over. “Can I ask you something?”

The softness in his mouth disappeared again. “You own my soul now. I suppose you can make me answer if you want.”

I huffed. “No, I mean—if I ask you something, will you answer it? Please?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded.

“Why did you do it?” I asked. “Why did you help us?”

His smile dropped slowly. “I . . . don’t really know.”

The candle’s flame whirled and twirled beside us, steady and strong.

“Maybe it’s the same reason I’m entering the Bruja Fights,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “Please don’t say the power of love. Humans are always going on about that. As if you’ve ever understood what love is.”

Well, that sounded like a sore spot. “Of course that. But I was thinking of something else.”

“What?” he asked.

I smiled at him over my blankets. “Hope.”

What he’d been hoping for when he revealed his secrets to save a strange people, I didn’t know. I wondered if he ever regretted it now, considering we’d become enemies. And that we used his gift of dance to ward off criaturas every year. But when he’d told the story, Coyote’s eyes had lit up, like the embers of hope were still inside him somewhere.

Coyote’s silence made me think I was right.

After a moment, he gestured at my bed. “You should sleep. Those Bruja Fights are soon, right? You’ll want to be well rested.”

“Oh, and so will you.” I stood, gathered a spare blanket and couple of pillows, and spread them on the floor at the foot of my bed. “I guess you can stay here tonight.”

He lifted an eyebrow and pointed at the other side of the room. “What about that bed?”

I looked at Juana’s mattress. I hadn’t changed a thing about it since yesterday. The dent, the trimmed pieces of fabric scattered about it, the quilt laying half on and half off—it was all just as she’d left it.

“That’s . . . my sister’s,” I whispered.

Coyote looked from Juana’s bed to the floor. Quietly, he took the crocheted blanket from my hand. “Buenas noches, bruja.”

He settled down on the floor, wrapping the colorful blanket around himself. I stepped back up onto my bed and stared down at him. For a criatura, he seemed strangely . . . reasonable. I squinted. Unless he was trying to trick me?

“You’re not going to kill me in my sleep or anything, right?” I whispered.

“Not if you let me go to bed already.” He yawned. “Now shh.”

It shouldn’t have, but the comment made me smile. I blew out the large candle flame. The heat remained in the air for a few moments after, and I curled up in my covers.

The first battle of the Bruja Fights was in two days. I had the bruja look. I had the legendary Coyote by my side. I had Grimmer Mother and Tía Catrina’s guidance. I had everything I needed to do this.

I’m coming, Juana, I mouthed into the night.

And like Coyote when he brought music to Naked Man, I clung to the hope that I wasn’t wrong.

10

The Moth and the Coyote

The next night, Envidia was just as unwelcoming as it had been the day before—except for one big difference.

Everyone stared in awe.

Their gazes weren’t on me, of course. The huddles of brujas and brujos watched Coyote, who lingered a couple of steps behind me as we moved through the narrow streets.

I’d spent nearly an hour convincing him to come with me. Grimmer Mother had promised to teach me how to win the Bruja Fights, I told him. I needed to return, and I needed him with me. He’d finally agreed. But the new feeling in my chest, the echo of his soul, hadn’t felt happy about it.

Grimmer Mother waited for me in front of her house. Smoke trailed out of the door behind her. Her smile sliced upward as I approached.

I bit my bottom lip when I stopped in front of her. Coyote’s bare feet disturbed the dust behind me. His presence was like wearing a pair of new, stiff gloves, both attached to me and not.

Grimmer Mother didn’t greet me right away. Her focus was on Coyote. “Great Namer,” she whispered. Then slowly, like she was coming back to life, her grin spread. “You conquered the Great Namer, Cecelia Rios.”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded awkwardly. “Sure did.”

I felt Coyote’s eyes bore into my back.

“He’s younger than I imagined.” She considered the necklace around my throat and beckoned me with her tattooed fingers. Hesitantly, I pulled the stone out of my shirt. Coyote bristled as she leaned in for a closer look at the wide, horizontal scar carved through the back of the stone.

Her mouth spread wide. “He’s died. You have good timing, Cecelia Rios. He might have been too powerful in his last life, but in his second, you can be his master.”

“What do you mean?” I whispered.

“Catrina really should have come back to teach you more about bruja life.” She straightened up, and I tucked the necklace back into my shirt. “There are many secrets to criatura souls. The most important one is knowing how close to the forever-last death a criatura is.”

My eyebrows pulled together. “Forever-last death? But criaturas are always reborn—”

She waved her hand and headed up the steps. “Criaturas may be reborn from their soul stone, but with each life they come back