Labyrinth Lost Read Free

she’ll try anything. Lula believes in ways that I don’t.
    â€œThere,” Lula says. “Now when we get home from school, we have to light the candle at sunset and do the chanting half of the canto.”
    â€œI’m not sure about this, Lula,” I say. “Maybe we should save the spells for a day I’m not so busy.”
    Lula reaches over and slaps the back of my head. “Spells are for witches . Brujas do cantos.”
    â€œSemantics,” I say. “All brujas are witches but not all witches are brujas.”
    â€œYou’re impossible,” Lula mutters, returning the Book to the family altar.
    The kitchen fills with the sweet, rose-scented smoke. I turn off the burner and drain the rosewater into a mason jar. While Lula isn’t looking, Rose sticks her finger in the ambrosia. I bite my lips to keep from laughing.
    â€œYou always claim to be so busy,” Lula says, tracing her shimmering nail across the page. “It’s just school, Alex. This is your life.”
    â€œYou’re starting to sound too much like Mom.”
    â€œAnd you don’t sound like her at all.”
    â€œYou never want to listen to me. I have a really long day. First period gym, then student council, then class, then the paper. I have to use my lunch period to finish the reading on Romeo and Juliet . I have indoor track practice and lab and—”
    â€œOh my goddess, please stop. No wonder your magic is blocked. You’ve got a broomstick up your butt.”
    â€œMy magic isn’t blocked .” I bite my tongue.
    Lula shrugs and taps the metal whisk against the bowl to get rid of the excess ambrosia. Then she separates it into two clean mason jars. “I don’t know why you’re more worried about school than your powers. You’re going to overthink yourself to death.”
    You don’t understand , I want to say but don’t. Lula isn’t the one who got left back a year because she was too afraid to leave her room and missed too much school. Lula isn’t the one who’s seen or done the things I have.
    â€œI know it seems scary,” Lula says, reaching over and tucking my hair behind my ear. “But this is important. Waking your magic could really bring us together. We all know that ever since what happened to Dad, Ma hasn’t been the same. All we need is a little push and you’ll see. You can’t have your Deathday until your powers show. You’re going to be sixteen in less than two weeks. It’s the perfect time. I know the other cantos didn’t work, but that’s why we’re going to try again.”
    Deathday: a bruja’s coming-of-age ceremony. While some girls are having their bat mitzvahs, sweet sixteens, or quinceañeras, brujas get their Deathday. There’s no cut-off age, but puberty is when our magic develops. Sometimes, like with Rose, when you’re born with powers, the family chooses to wait a little while for them to mature. Over the years, modern brujas like to have Deathdays line up with birthdays to have even bigger celebrations. Nothing says “happy birthday” like summoning the spirits of your dead relatives.
    Lula ignores my worry and keeps trying to convince me she’s right. “Remember my Deathday? Papa Philomeno himself appeared. And he’s been dead for like a hundred years. I went from healing paper cuts to mending your ankle that time you fell from the tree. Magic is in our blood. We come from a long line of powerful brujas.”
    â€œA long line of dead brujas, you mean,” I say. Why do I bother? Lula doesn’t want to hear the bad parts. She just wants to concentrate on the power instead of the consequences.
    â€œYou say that now. Magic transforms you. You’ll see.”
    I breathe deep, like there isn’t enough air in the whole world. I brush my messy hair out of my face. It’s easy for Lula to talk about power. She sees magic as