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storm waged on and lulled my friends to sleep. With time, the rumble of thunder lessened. The downpour slowed to a drizzle. Slowly, the quiet and the coolness eased open the knot of my hurt feelings.

Let Papá think whatever he wanted about me. Dominga del Sol believed in me. So did Coyote, and Lion, and Kit.

And I would cling to the hope that they were right.

23

The Bonds of Criaturas

Kit Fox and I were the first to wake up after Mamá and Papá left for the day.

“Keep still,” I whispered, dipping my rag back into a small bowl of water.

Kit Fox ceased his restless shifting. I took the wet corner of my cloth and scraped at the trail of blood that had dried from his nose to the turn of his chin. I’d gotten his nose clean already, and now I was washing his mouth.

The early morning brightness streamed in through my window. It made it hard to see, especially when staring at Kit Fox. His hair and ears were so light that when the sun hit them, they were blinding.

Finally, I managed to get his face clean. “Does that feel better?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Thank you, Bruja Cece.”

“Just Cece,” I said. “And is your nose all better?”

“It healed overnight,” he said.

I sat back, rag in hand, and perused his face. He smiled, brown eyes lit by the morning, hair shimmering like strings of sunshine pinned to the earth. He looked so content and small. It made me glad we’d gotten him away from Brujo Rodrigo.

“How old are you?” I asked.

Kit raised his eyebrows. “This lifetime or all together?”

“Oh. Um, this lifetime I guess.”

“About eleven years old.”

I smiled a little at his molasses-sweet face. That seemed about right. “I guess that means I’m not the youngest out of my friends anymore. I’m twelve—almost thirteen.”

His thin eyebrows tugged together hard, just for a second. The look disappeared quickly, but I leaned forward.

“What?” I asked.

He bowed his head and shook it. His ears flapped a little. “It’s nothing.”

I folded the rag and placed it on the floor. “You can tell me, Kit. I—I know you probably weren’t treated very well in Devil’s Alley, but you’re safe here.”

“You called me your . . . friend.” He lifted his head. His gaze bore into mine, sudden as the intense splash of flavor you get when biting into a caramel candy. “I don’t understand. Brujas don’t make friends with criaturas.”

Oh. Of course I seemed suspicious to him. The same way Lion hadn’t trusted me until he knew why I was doing this.

“Well,” I started. “I should probably tell you—I’m not really a bruja.”

Kit gasped. “So, it’s true!” Well, that made me feel self-conscious. “Brujo Rodrigo said he thought you might be pretending, so you could go after the Bride of El Sombrerón.”

I’d almost forgotten that he’d been living in Devil’s Alley until last night. I straightened up, beaming. “Have you seen Juana? Is she okay? Where do they keep her—”

“I don’t know.” Kit shook his head. “I’d just heard whispers of her coming to live in El Cucuy’s castle. That’s all.”

My throat tightened. Oh. Right. My chest ached with unanswered questions and fragile hopes. I just wanted to know she was okay. I wanted to see her again and run to her. I wanted to bring her home so she could be safe and happy.

When I looked up, tears traced down Kit Fox’s cheeks.

“Sorry,” I burst out and wiped my running nose. “I’ll try to pull my feelings back, give me a second.” I started to rein the emotions in, but Kit’s hand touched mine before I could get anywhere.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “I want to understand. I want to believe you.”

He was so sweet, the tears burning my eyes dropped onto my cheeks. Most people told me not to cry. No one had ever offered to cry with me before. I laughed even though my throat was knotted.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You love her a lot. How can you bear it?” More tears gathered on his eyelashes.

“Sometimes . . . I can’t,” I whispered. “I think about how scared she must be. And I feel like I’m turning inside out because it’s my fault she’s gone.” I gripped the front of my shirt, chin quivering. “But that’s why I have to win the Bruja Fights, so we can enter Devil’s Alley, and I can rescue her.”

Kit Fox stared at me.

“So, I guess love isn’t easy to bear. But that’s why it’s also worth it.” I wiped my cheeks clean. “She’s my sister. And I miss her this deeply because I’ve loved her that intensely.”

I brushed his cheeks dry, and he smiled.

“You really aren’t a bruja,” he said quietly, with certainty. “You give power instead of taking it. I guess that makes you more of a curandera.”

“You think so?” Curanderas kept coming up, but each time, they felt more important. Now, even just hearing the word sent a comforting ripple through me, and my skin prickled. “Have you ever met any curanderas? In your past lives?”

“Probably. But each time I regrow, it’s harder to remember my old lives. And curanderas haven’t been around in over two hundred years, so I don’t have any solid memories of them.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. It’s just—everyone in town thinks they were weak because they let Tierra del Sol fall into ruin. But a friend of my abuela’s, Dominga del Sol, talks about them like they were really important. I just wish I knew what they did. Or maybe what they didn’t do.” I put my chin in my hands.

“Well, I may not remember any one of them specifically, but I can tell you what their powers were.” He leaned toward me. “Each curandera had a special bond with one of the four creation gods. That’s what made them curanderas.”

Well, that didn’t sound like me—I was supposed to be a daughter of the Sun god, but I couldn’t even make a fire opal glow. My mind floated back to the Sun Sanctuary,

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