Bruja Born

by Zoraida Cordova

  Out on the water, tall waves swallow up the jetties and lifeguard towers, licking the edges of the boardwalk.

  Dad, Adrian, Rose, and Alex gather around me and we go over the conjuring one last time.

  “Alex, we need light,” I say, and she conjures a glowing orb over each of our heads. “Dad, can you bring the storm closer?”

  He holds his hand with the other to stop it from trembling but nods wordlessly.

  “Are you sure you can handle this?” I ask.

  He takes my face in his hands. It’s been so long since I’ve really looked at him. I see myself in his weather-gray eyes and the fine curve of his nose, in the way my brow furrows when I’m quick to anger or worry, and in the curl of his hair.

  “I know I can never get you girls back. Too much time has passed. But I’m going to be here now, and I’m going to give you everything that is in my power to give.”

  My thanks is lost as the sky thunders, a sonic boom I can feel right at my core. The pain around my heart is getting stronger. I can feel the dark mass growing, a life-sucking leech.

  “Let’s go,” I shout over the gale, and they follow me onto the beach.

  I hold my dad’s hand the entire way, and he only let’s go when they form a wide circle with me at the top.

  I am at the edge of the world, I think. Looking into the black horizon, it truly feels that way, as if there is nothing but the engulfing power of the sea at night.

  “The waves are getting closer,” Alex says, reaching for Rose’s hand. “Rosie, you ready?”

  “If by ready you mean terrified, then yes,” Rose says before letting go of Alex. She’s a natural at wielding this unknown power, moving her hands like she’s decoding the language of gods with her fingertips. As a dark wave threatens to crash over us, Rose faces the approaching wall of water and holds her palms up. Salt water sprays around us but she steadies the wave with the motion of her hands. Her force field twists water into a rope and lassos around the Circle.

  Dad goes next. The salty air is charged with magic. His eyes are threaded with pinpricks of lightning. Every lamppost on the boardwalk shatters as he pulls that energy into his fist, twisting it into a ball of electricity high in the air.

  He calls on La Tormenta, Lady of the Storms and Wife of El Cielo. Dad shuts his eyes, and despite the ring of water spinning around us and the black cloud that he’s pulled directly over our heads, he’s never looked so peaceful. When he raises his fist into the sky, a silver-white light fills the Circle from the inside out, so bright we all have to look away momentarily.

  In his fist is a bolt of lightning.

  “Adrian, go on!” I shout.

  Adrian’s eyes flash white, and my heart skips at the thought of Maks’s eyes. But I have to focus, so I concentrate on the crash of the waves and the howl of the wind. Adrian spreads his arms open as air funnels around him and he rises six feet off the wet sand. As if he can’t believe his own strength, he hollers into the sky.

  I look to Alex, who goes last. She rubs her hands together and bends down to press them against the sand. Her face is stoic, as if she’s turned to granite herself. It’s then that I feel the rumble beneath the ground racing toward us.

  Alex is like a maestro conducting an orchestra. Her hands pull Rose’s rope of sea and shifts Adrian’s tornado up high, forming a twisting cylinder of water and wind with us at the center. The earth still trembles beneath us, closer still.

  “On your signal!” I shout.

  Alex takes the lightning from Dad, and he makes a terrifying cry as he lets go. Alex shudders as she holds the bolt in both hands, weaves it like a webbed dome around us.

  The force of the elements pushes and pulls on our bodies, threatening to carry us away. I grab hold of Rose and Alex. They grab hold of Dad and Adrian, who close the Circle, each one of their arms a lifeline to mine.

  My face is wet with sea spray and cold from the wind. The ground vibrates faster and harder beneath our feet, and then, when I think the earth will split open and swallow us whole, Alex smashes her fists into the ground.

  The blast rebounds, and together, the elements break through the waves, carving a path through the sea.

  “I don’t know how long we can hold this,” Alex shouts. “Go now!”

  As the ocean parts, split by wind and a ripple along the sand, a narrow rock formation appears in the distance as tall as the waves. Electricity winds itself around the spear, which is wedged into the very top, shimmering like a beacon of light.

  I race along the path. Pinpricks of pain stab at my heart and my lungs burn as I put them to the test. I want to extend seconds with my bare bands to give myself more time. There’s never enough time. The lightning lets me see the way ahead, framed by the debris and stones encased inside the parted sea. There’s a ripple on either wall of water and I pump my legs harder and faster than I ever thought I could go.

  My heart soars with hope when the boulders get bigger the closer I get. When I stop, I grab hold of the base. I was wrong. It isn’t one large rock, but lots of boulders wedged together, a stairway to the skies. There’s only one way up.

  The parted sea is taller than the tower. Wind whistles like sirens singing, but I keep going up. Cramps dig at my sides and my legs tremble. My foot hits a loose stone wedged between two boulders, and I start to slip and fall.

  I grab at the slick, wet stones and hold on for dear life. The wall of water is inching closer around me, the power of the Circle weakening.

  I shake and I scream and I curse at the sky and sea and wind that pushes against me like the weight of the heavens is slamming me down. But I think of my family waiting for me, the whole city waiting for me to right my wrongs, and I can’t let them down. Inch by inch, I pull myself along the boulder. My frigid skin finds comfort in the warmth of the blood trickling down my legs.

  When I reach the top, a gale almost knocks me back. I hurl my weight forward, my nails scrabbling against the rock as I claw my way to safety. I only take a moment to stare at it—the Spear of Death wedged cleanly into the stone. I touch it, but sparks burn against my skin.

  “What am I missing?” I whisper.

  I think back to the time I saw Lady de la Muerte wield it. But she’s a goddess and I’m just mortal. We cast cantos and sing rezos. Why do we pray? Because we ask something of the gods, and in return, they ask for sacrifice. I did it when I tried to heal and tether Maks to me. We do it when we ask for blessings on our Deathdays. Then it hits me.

  Blood. It’s always blood because blood is life. The Deos ask for it.

  I rub at the open gash on my thigh and smear blood across my palms. Then I grab the center of the spear, expecting electric shocks. I let out a victorious scream as my hands close around the shaft, and I’m able to pull upward. I raise it up to the sky, a lick of lightning sending a jolt down to my arms.

  Somehow, the wind carries the screams of the Circle to me.

  I hold the Spear of Death in my hands, and the power is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  But when I look up, I no longer see sky, just the ocean closing over me.

  33

  She never asked for this, but she bore the weight

  of the world in silence, her strength reaching all

  those souls who didn’t know where to find her.

  —Rezo of La Fuerza, Lady Who Carried the Earth on Her Shoulders, Book of Cantos

  The waves spin me around and around until I can’t tell which way is up or down. My chest is tight from holding my breath, and my eyes burn against the sting of salt. But I hold on to the spear and nothing, not even the sea itself, will rip it from my hands.

  I try to kick, but my muscles ache from running and seize up in the frigid water. Bubbles leave my nose and mouth too quickly as every impulse in my body is begging to open up and breathe.

  Something hits my side, and I scre
am as a hand colder than the sea itself grabs me around my waist, dragging me down to what I’m sure is the bottom of the sea.

  Instead, I break the surface and gasp for air. I breathe it in hungrily, choking on salt water that splashes its way into my mouth.

  “You really shouldn’t drink the water anywhere around here,” Mayi yells.

  I cough and laugh and cry as she hooks her arms under my armpits and pulls me back to the shore. The entire time I keep a solid grip on the spear. I have the spear.

  A wave pushes us closer to the shore. When we hit land, I could bend down and kiss the sand. But my sister runs over and pulls me into an hug first.

  “Lula!” Alex shouts in my ear. “Thank the Deos.”

  She helps me stand and climb over the metal railings of the boardwalk. Dad wraps an arm around my shoulders. He hunches over, the recoil taking hold of his body. With one arm, I keep the spear upright. It even helps to lean against it.

  “You did it,” Adrian tells me, mouth open as he turns to stare at the calming waters.

  “Because of you. All of you. I couldn’t have gotten this far without your help. Mayi, where did you come from?”

  She’s a wonder to look at, her glamour gone to reveal her true face. Every imperfection uniquely, wonderfully hers. “I couldn’t stay back, not while you were willing to risk your life. Alex guided me.”

  The clouds still cling to the sky in every direction, a light rain falling across the city. I take in the boardwalk. There’s some damage, but it can be blamed on the storm.

  “Should we get back to the headquarters?” Rose asks.

  “The hunter said to wait here,” Mayi says. “He said the building’s compromised. They’re going to take us somewhere else.”

  But there’s only one place I want to be.

  • • •

  Home.

  Rhett parks the Knights’ black car in the driveway and goes around back to make sure the coast is clear. My mother takes my arm to help me walk up the front porch.

  I take a second to memorize our house. On a block full of newly renovated houses and brownstones, ours has a roof that leans a little to the right after weathering too many storms. Its windows are shaded by a sturdy oak tree, and the paint on the sides peels off in long streaks. A poor house. A loved house. A house full of brujas. My home.

  I brought death here and I’ll take it out.

  “Lock the door behind you,” Ma tells me as she opens the door to let everyone in. I can practically see the checklist going off in her mind. “I’ll go prepare the infirmary.”

  “Out of the way,” Alex shouts, helping Rose up the stairs, followed by Mayi and Adrian. Nova lets my dad lean on him as the recoil fully sets in. Dad’s skin is covered in painful blisters. Even from out here, I can hear the sounds of retching and groaning that fill the house.

  “Coast is clear,” Rhett says, coming up behind me on the porch. He walks the length of it, searching every surface, like a casimuerto is going to be hiding between the potted plants. When he stands in front of the window, a memory flashes in my mind.

  “You were the guy,” I say, and I laugh even though my abdomen hurts. “I chased you that night with the hose.”

  He grimaces but doesn’t deny it. “Not one of my better moments. I needed proof the casimuerto was in your house.”

  “The Knights of Lavant are officially creepy in my book,” I say, trying for humor but it doesn’t make either of us laugh. “Kitchen is down at the end of the hall and bathroom is to your left. But you probably already know that.”

  “I won’t be long,” he says, and disappears down the hall, balling up fists covered in dirt and blood.

  I close the door behind us and lock up tight. When I turn, I’m face-to-face with our altar for La Mama. The hand is still broken and tucked into the decaying flowers around the base. I grab three tea lights, a stick of greenberry incense, and strike a match. It’s been so long since I attempted this, but I know if I can’t find the words now I never will.

  “I ask for strength I probably don’t deserve,” I say, using the spear to lean against. “Strength to do whatever it takes to keep my city safe. In the name of La Mama, Mother of all the Deos, and La Fuerza, Lady Who Carried the Earth on Her Shoulders.”

  “Lula?” Rhett clears his throat behind me.

  I jump and swing around.

  “Careful!” Rhett jumps back. His eyes flick up and down the spear. “Isn’t that thing supposed to sever souls from the living?”

  “Sorry,” I say, and actually mean it.

  Rhett looks at me with a curious smile on his face.

  “Your scuba suit came in handy,” I say.

  “It’s dragon skin,” he says, all indignant. “At least call it a dragon suit.”

  “Pass.” I shrug. “Any word from the others?”

  “We were trying to corral them before they hit headquarters, but there are too many.”

  We have one spear and hundreds of undead. It won’t be enough, my dark thoughts chime in.

  “It will be done,” he assures me.

  “Rhett,” I say, a question I’ve held for a long time finds its way to my lips. “How long were you following me? Did it start at the hospital?”

  He looks startled, like he didn’t think I’d ever bring it up. “We were following your family.”

  “But you didn’t have to talk to me at the hospital. You didn’t have to feed Maks. Why do that only to show up at the THA trying to arrest me?”

  “There was a detail placed on your family after the accident months ago.” Rhett absentmindedly touches a thin blade tucked under his left sleeve. “We were making sure nothing went in or out of what’s left of the portal in the yard. We wanted to make sure people were safe.”

  “Safe from us?” I ask, affronted by the thought that we could be considered dangerous. Though, after everything I’ve done, I suppose he was right. “And this whole time we were worried about us being safe from the world.”

  “I determined your family was not a threat. We’ve kept tabs on Nova Santiago as well, but he doesn’t cause any harm to anyone but himself.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject,” I say. “Why did you lie to the Alliance? You gave me a head start with the box…”

  “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “It matters to me! Where did that heart come from?”

  “I didn’t rip it from someone’s beating chest, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says, raking his fingers through damp, long waves. “We have our own morgue of bodies that can’t go to the human authorities. I broke protocol. I knew I’d made a mistake, but I left the box that night because I saw how much you were suffering, both before the accident and during. I wanted to help you, Lula. When we stopped being able to contain them and Knights were killed, I was so angry at myself that I acted like an idiot.”

  “I’m sorry about the hunters you lost,” I say, my breath hitching in my throat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t let him go.”

  “Lula—” His eyes follow the arc of my cheekbone, tracing over the scars. His lips part, starting as his phone buzzes. He gives me his back and listens intently. “No, they’re safe here. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Was that McKay? Where are they?”

  “He’s with my unit. The casimuertos are using the subway,” Rhett says, taking several steps away from me. “All hands on deck.”

  He runs out the door, and the scent of the ocean lingers in his wake.

  I lock the door and walk down the hall to join the others. Every step I take is like walking on hot coals.

  In the living room, Ma, Nova, and Mayi are tending to the recoil Rose, Dad, and Adrian are suffering. The place looks like a war zone with buckets of water, bloody bandages for Dad’s blisters, and the bag of weapons Alex has been collecting massed in piles everywhere.

 
Alex looks up from sharpening her favorite dagger. “You realize you haven’t let go of that thing once, right?”

  “Can I touch it?” Adrian asks.

  I move the spear out of his reach.

  “I can’t lie,” Nova says. “I thought that when you pulled the Death sword from the stone that it would make Lady de la Muerte appear.”

  “Where’s Sargent Scuba Suit?” Alex asks.

  “The casimuertos have gone underground, literally, so the Knights are regrouping. In the meantime, I have to figure out how to use this thing to free La Muerte.”

  “She’s between realms,” Ma says. “That would mean we need a portal.”

  I wonder aloud, “Is the portal in the yard really closed?”

  “Yep. Total dead zone. Besides, La Muerte isn’t in Los Lagos,” Alex says. “I’d know.”

  The living room lights short-circuit.

  “Alex!” Ma yells.

  “That wasn’t me!” And for a moment, our house feels the same as it always has.

  “I got it,” Nova says, making soft orbs of light appear all across the ceiling.

  “It’s the storm,” Rose says, still coughing up water into her closed fist. She pulls back the curtain and looks out. “The house next door is dark too.”

  “I’ll check the breakers,” Mayi says. “And bring up candles.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Adrian says. “My dad says they kept a dead body down there once. Is that true?”

  It’s just the six of us in the living room. Even with Nova here, it feels right.

  Ma presses her healing compresses on Dad’s welts. He explains what it felt like to hold the lightning in his hand again. Nova keeps calling Rose a magical hacker, and she kicks his shin. All the while Alex watches me, like she’s afraid I’m going to spontaneously combust. I know she’s only worried, but for now, all I want is to bask in this moment.

  I want to tell my parents that I love them. I want to tell my mom that when I felt like I needed strength, all I had to do was think of her. I want to tell my dad that I’m grateful that he used his power. I want to tell Nova that he needs to be careful, that he’s got family if he wants it.