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them—four now, with Ocelot looking distinctly awkward—made a semicircle around me. Oh, could they feel the change in my soul? I plucked it out my pocket and lifted the turquoise tear drop. Lion’s breath caught. Kit took another step forward.

“That’s the Dark Saints’ power,” he said. “El Cucuy and El Sombrerón always give their third in command the title Soul Stealer after they give the Third Dark Saint the ability to tear souls from bodies.”

Ocelot crossed her arms. “He’s trying to say that Brujo Rodrigo stole our curandera’s soul.”

A small flare shot through Lion’s stone. Coyote’s face fell.

“But I got it back!” I waved it at them.

“But are you going to be okay?” Coyote looked me up and down, like he was checking for wounds. “Humans aren’t supposed to have their souls on the outside.”

He was right. It was strangely vulnerable to have my soul outside of my chest. No wonder criaturas feared brujas. To have someone be able to reach out and snatch at who you are—it was so easily misused.

I smiled all the same. “My soul is strong as water. I think I’ll be all right.”

Coyote’s, Kit’s, and Lion’s faces all lifted with surprise, but before I could explain further, Ocelot stepped forward, placing her hand on Coyote’s shoulder.

“Legend Brother,” she said. “We have a mission to attend to.”

“Uh—yeah. Right.” He cleared his throat and looked back at me. “Cece, you don’t have the Mark of the Binding, so you can’t go into Devil’s Alley. Maybe if we can force El Sombrerón—”

“You don’t need to enter Devil’s Alley to get your sister back,” Ocelot interrupted. “El Cucuy and El Sombrerón rule because they have the same power—to transform humans and their souls into whatever shapes they please. It’s why their power is unopposed even by brujas. Whenever El Sombrerón leaves the castle, he turns his brides into braids of hair so he can carry them with him in his pocket. It’s how he controls them. A braid of hair cannot exercise its will even if it tries.”

Juana. My mind filled with my sister’s smile. If everything Ocelot said was true, and El Sombrerón was still in the human world, then—

“We have to take down El Sombrerón,” I said. “Before he returns to Devil’s Alley.”

Lion folded his arms. “It won’t be easy, Cece. He’s the second most powerful dark criatura in existence.”

Kit shrank a bit. “I’m not even sure it’s possible to defeat him.”

“We can do it.” I stood to my full height, my chest puffed out, and looked at my four companions. “If we’re together, if we fight with everything we have, we can bring my sister back.”

Yes, I was afraid. Like when I’d jumped out the window of my bedroom, and when I’d first gone hunting for a criatura, and when I’d first entered the Bruja Fights, or like just minutes ago, when I’d thought I would die soulless in the desert.

But I wasn’t going to let fear hurt the people I loved anymore.

And that went for me too.

A rumble moved through the ground before we had time to bask in our renewed determination. We all turned to see a presence appear from our left.

The canyon ended there, about twenty feet away. The slice between the walls of rock created a window out to the cerros, now blue and gray in the moonlight. El Sombrerón’s tall, shadowy figure stained the view.

Coyote looked from the figure to me. “Time to fix our mistakes, Cece.”

28

The Braided Sister

El Sombrerón stood facing us, silent and still, as the atmosphere around him changed. The sand felt like glass. The canyon turned into an open jaw. The moon slid behind clouds. I held my breath as Coyote, Lion, and Kit tensed up, and a primal instinct screamed for me to run the other way.

But I didn’t.

“We need to steal his guitar,” I said instead. “If we take it, he won’t be able to defeat us like he did before.”

Coyote brandished his claws. “We’re with you.”

I nodded. Kit, Lion, and Ocelot stood at my side. I gripped my fingers into fists. Juana was just a few steps away. This was it.

Ocelot leaned forward. “When there’s an opening, we aim for his robes,” she whispered to me. “He’ll have her braid in a pocket inside them.”

Another footstep shook the ground. We all shivered and looked up.

“Cecelia Rios.” The air warped around El Sombrerón’s voice. “You’ve defeated the Soul Stealer and taken your spoils of war.” His hat swiveled to Ocelot. She held her ground. “To think the pathetic younger sister of my new bride now bears more souls than any of the noble brujas in Devil’s Alley. It’s a shame I must kill you.”

He shifted, and his silver guitar peeked out of his cloak. There. If I could just get that away from him, we stood a chance. My skin prickled as the breeze picked up, and clouds brewed in the sky overhead. The smell of moisture entered the air. I held on to it, for comfort, for hope, for strength. I still didn’t know how curandera powers worked exactly. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

“I’ve come for my sister,” I said. “And I’m not leaving without her.”

“Your kind has never been strong enough to defeat me, little curandera.” His hand whipped the guitar out of his cloak and struck its silver chords. “You will fail.”

The notes hit the air like a flock of birds taking flight. Instantly, my knees went wobbly, like my body was turning into atole. I sucked in a hard breath. No, the world couldn’t really be rocking left and right. El Sombrerón’s song was playing tricks. I stepped forward, stomach churning. No more wasting time.

I dove straight for him.

“Cece, what are you doing?” Little Lion’s voice called to me.

My criaturas surged after me—most likely because they thought I was about to get myself killed. Which was possibly true.

El Sombrerón readied his guitar to strike me, as he’d done the night he’d stolen Juana. He swung,

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