Cece Rios and the Desert of Souls Kaela Rivera (8 ebook reader txt) 📖

myself. My body was bruised, my clothes stained, and tears smeared my cheeks. Whether or not I had just hallucinated Tzitzimitl’s words, she was right.

My soul was strong.

So I had to get it back.

I lifted my feet. I lifted my head. And I started along the trail Brujo Rodrigo had left behind.

27

Brujo Rodrigo the Soul Stealer

The closer I got to Brujo Rodrigo, the more sensation returned to my body. I could feel a distant pulse in my wrists and chest. As the feeling returned, I sped up my pace. I had to close in on him soon, before he returned to Devil’s Alley.

Fortunately, I spotted a shortcut across the top of the canyon. It was a difficult path, but I hiked without ceasing, and this higher position would give me the advantage I needed. The whole way up, I looked down on the trail Rodrigo’s party had left behind in the loose dirt.

Soon enough, I caught up.

They were near the end of the canyon where the cliff and the land narrowed into each other. I knelt on a stone shelf, just ahead of them. Slowly, Brujo Rodrigo and his criaturas moved closer. It was tempting to dive straight for Ocelot—she carried Coyote’s body over one shoulder, his unconscious head swinging with each step. But then I spotted Brujo Rodrigo heading right beneath my rock shelf.

He tossed my blue soul stone up and down in his hands pensively. I followed his every movement. He passed under me, and I crawled to match his pace. Just as his hair appeared beneath the ledge—

I tumbled off.

I meant to leap more, um, purposefully, but my body was even more clumsy and awkward than usual. So, I belly flopped ten feet down onto his shoulder and sent us both slamming into the ground.

When we sat up, his purple-black eyes widened as he spotted me.

I grinned. “Did you miss me?”

“How are you alive?” He stood and aimed a kick at my ribs.

I rolled away just in time. “I am the caretaker of my soul,” I said. My arms wobbled as I pushed up and stood to face him. “I am. Only me.” The blue stone in his fist started to buzz, vibrating his hand. He looked down at it in alarm. “Now give it back.”

He jerked his head toward me, sneering. “I was being merciful when I said I’d leave you to die. But you continue to defy the power of Devil’s Alley.” His face twisted. “Now, I’ll punish you the way I punish my criaturas when they question me.”

He slammed both hands over my soul stone, and I felt it—a dark, hissing pain worming its way through me.

“No!” I belted.

I’d witnessed this before. The pain Grimmer Mother had inflicted on La Chupacabra. The pain she’d wanted me to use against Coyote. But this time, it was directed at me—and it was as powerful as the desert was large.

Ravenous heat pushed up my throat and reached for my mind. Or, attempted to. I could feel his eagerness to burn me like a bonfire.

But I was made of water.

“I. Said. No.” My voice rattled the stones around us.

At the sound, Brujo Rodrigo stumbled, and his criaturas rocked back and forth, their faces flashing between alertness and the dullness of Rodrigo’s control. I narrowed my eyes when his furious gaze met mine.

“You want to master my soul?” I cried. Fluctuations of hot and cold battled in my chest. I gathered all of my feelings. Brujo Rodrigo’s forehead wrinkled. “Go ahead and try!”

I shoved the strength of all those emotions forward.

My love for Juana. My mourning for Coyote’s pain. My sorrow at Lion’s past. My grief at imagining Kit’s deaths. My love for Mamá. My worry that I’d never live up to her expectations. My fear of Papá. My love for him all the same. I pushed it all forward, into my soul, up Brujo Rodrigo’s veins, careening all the feelings of a lifetime into his chest.

Let him try to ignore that emotional feedback.

At first, his face just tensed up. Then one by one, his criaturas fell to their knees. My friends tumbled off their shoulders and flopped to the ground. Brujo Rodrigo’s hands shook.

“What are you doing?” The veins on his face stood out. “Stop!”

“You wanted my soul, didn’t you?” I asked. “This is what it takes to bear it.”

I thrust the memory of what had just happened—of going numb, of crying, of being almost nothing—into his heart. He let out a guttural cry and stumbled sideways, falling against the canyon wall. I stopped in front of him, looming over him.

I paused there, watching him tremble and falter. For the past two weeks, I’d experienced all these feelings. I’d experienced Coyote’s, Lion’s, and Kit’s feelings too. But the same feelings that had made me want to be stronger, to be better—they were tearing this Dark Saint apart.

“Please,” he heaved out. His left hand opened. My soul slipped from between his fingers.

I snatched it back and grabbed his criaturas’ souls from around his neck for good measure. They fell free with a sharp, hard tug.

I came back with four souls—mine, Ocelot’s, Gila Monster’s, and Golden Eagle’s. The moment I touched mine, skin to stone, warmth flooded back into my veins. My chest filled with certainty and peace. I stepped back and couldn’t help smiling. Whole again.

Brujo Rodrigo’s three criatura souls buzzed lightly and distantly up the leather straps I held them by. I couldn’t feel them the same way I did Coyote, Lion, and Kit, but that was probably because I hadn’t accepted them by placing them around my neck.

“No!” Brujo Rodrigo’s cry interrupted my reverie.

Ash suddenly crept over his face, like mold spreading through his skin. I stiffened as his smooth cheeks pitted and sizzled. His body began to crumble into the dirt, and when he opened his mouth, it was only to gargle a few words:

“Fool,” he gasped. “No human can stand against . . . El Cucuy’s rule.” His hands shivered away into dust. His head slapped