Labyrinth Lost (Brooklyn Brujas, #1)

by Zoraida Córdova

When he sees me, he smiles, revealing a tiny dimple, like a comma at the edge of his mouth.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to think about Dad.” “Well you have to, okay? Because we loved him once, and he loved us too. Remember, Alex.

“It’s love, Alex. Love is you jumping through a portal despite your own safety. Love is Mom singing in the car and Rose making tea when we’re sick and even us fighting because we’re blood, and no matter what you do, I’ll never forget that you are my sister.”

Love is Lula. Love is my mom. Love is Rose. Love is in this power that I never asked for but courses through my veins like the blood of my ancestors.

“Not everyone’s got a family they’d die for,” he says. “If I thought it’d get you in trouble, I would’ve thought twice about stealing. Okay?”

Ugly is the last word I’d use to describe Nova. He walks with his head down, and I try to picture him walking down the street. If I saw him walking opposite me, before I knew him, I’d probably cross to the other side. Now that I know him, I want him walking with me.

I fight the exhaustion in my bones. Mama Juanita used to tell us the story of La Vieja Tollussa, who put herself in a hundred-year sleep to outlive her enemies. But when she woke, her body had kept aging and ached too much to move. She used the last of her power to turn herself into a caterpillar because her journey was still not complete. As we leave the Meadow del Sol and take a path east, I carry that thought with me.

“No matter.” The Devourer walks around us like she’s corralling her prey. “I have this sweet, sweet girl. Her love for you is so strong she threw herself into another galaxy to be with you. That’s the kind of magic I can’t fabricate anymore. Surrender, Alejandra Mortiz, or Rishi dies.

“Do you know what I ask myself sometimes?” Rishi takes my hand in hers. “What would Alex do?”

We pull each other up. We face the labyrinth. There’s a swirl of black-and-gray clouds directly above it. I take a deep breath and stretch my aching muscles. No power, no recoil. Rishi takes my dagger, and I sling the mace over my shoulder. I’m not the encantrix everyone thought I would be. Right now, I’m just a girl, and there is also magic in that.

“Your powers are at the Tree of Souls, but your body is still a conduit. Your body is made to hold your personal brand of magic. It’ll always be yours. That’s why the Devourer constantly needs to feed to accumulate power. With every bit she consumes, it takes a toll on her physical body because the power is stolen. What happens when you don’t feed a fire?” “It burns out,” Rishi says.

I understand now. Magic is a living thing. It’s part of me. I summon it, call it like a snake charmer calls a snake out of its slumber. The magic answers back. It slithers from the tree. The Devourer’s face contorts when she feels what I’m doing. My power, all of it, is expelled from the cocoon and back into me. This time, I don’t fight it. This is what Mama Juanita meant. I accept you. I remember you.

I thought I was ready, but I’m not. My family channels their power through me all at once. I can see our lifelines twisting like sinew, like DNA, like roots in the earth. When I can breathe again, I direct the flow of magic. It floods in prisms of color that can only exist in between the realms. It is pure, undiluted power, and I fire it at the Devourer. She lashes out with everything she’s got. It feels like she’s throwing stones while I wear Kevlar. Together, our magic fills the skies with blinding lightning. I hold it in my hands and throw. It cuts through the Devourer until there is nothing left but the ghost of her scream and a shower of ashes.