Labyrinth Lost Read Free Page B

I’ve kept hidden from my family—the thing that makes me a liar every single day. I know the reason Lula’s canto to bring forth my powers didn’t work. Lula thinks my powers are sleeping.
    She’s wrong.
    I can feel the secrets pushing against my veins, and in turn, I push right back—hiding them deep inside, where I hope one day even I won’t be able to find them.

3
    Hear me, La Mama, ruler of the sun,
    levanta a la bruja, her power undone.
    â€”Waking Canto, Book of Cantos
    â€œYou okay?” Lula turns in the passenger seat of Maks’s car.
    I nod. If I tell Lula that a photo of our dead aunt jumped off my altar by an invisible force, she’d just make us go investigate, light some sage, and then we’d really be late for school. Priorities. Plus, we’d have to come up with some elaborate lie for Maks. Or maybe not.
    â€œHey, gorgeous.” Maks turns to Lula. “I like your new sweater.”
    I hit my head against the window in the backseat. Lula takes in his compliment with kissy noises, then holds his free hand as he pulls out of the driveway. We wave good-bye to Rose as she boards her bus to school.
    Maks is okay. Though, he is superclueless. He’s been dating my sister for a year, and when he drops her off at her Circle meetings, he just thinks she’s doing yoga. If he had any sense, he’d feel how amazing my sister is, that he’s not worthy of her.
    Lula fawns over him—his dark hair, his new shirt, the irreverent shape of his earlobes. My own sister! I miss the days when we were kids, before magic became our sole focus, before my dad vanished and took away my mother’s happiness, before Lula discovered she liked kissing beautiful boys because she was beautiful too.
    â€œSomeone has a b-day coming up,” Maks says. His bright-blue eyes find mine in the rearview mirror.
    â€œThey do say the whole word now,” I say. His smile is contagious. “You’re not texting.”
    He laughs, making a sharp turn at the light. Who gave this boy his license?
    â€œAlex!” Lula snaps.
    Lula thinks I’m too cold. I like to think I’m the right amount of cold. That way, no one can hurt me. If Lula were more like me, she wouldn’t have such a large collection of heartbreaks.
    I just have the two.
    Then Maks slams on the brakes. Tires screech and Lula screams. My head slams into the back of the driver’s seat. Pain flares down my neck. Car horns blare and people shout. There’s the smack of hands on the bright red of Maks’s car and pain pulsing through my skull.
    I hear my name called from a distance. A woman’s voice I haven’t heard in a long, long time.
    â€œAlex, look at me,” Lula says, louder than the voice in my head.
    My head feels heavy when I lean back. I squint against the pain behind my eyes. Maks is already out the door. Cool fall air carries impossible smells: deep-red blood and the smoke of just-blown-out candles from my nightmare.
    At the crosswalk, Maks shoves someone. The guy we almost hit is hidden under a blue hoodie. He points a finger in Maks’s face. Maks puffs up his chest, but the guy in the hoodie is bigger, more muscular, and doesn’t look like someone easily intimidated.
    Lula climbs into the backseat and holds up my chin.
    â€œFocus on me,” she says, snapping her finger in front of my face.
    I blink a few times, then settle my eyes on her gray ones. “My neck hurts.”
    In seconds, she goes from my unruly sister to the healer she was born to be. Mom says Lula’s power comes from the goodness of wanting to do good. Lula presses a hand on my neck. Her warmth spreads through me like sunshine. I see her and me—the thing that links us together—beyond this world and into the next.
    And then my vision is clear and she says, “Better?”
    Better than ever. I feel like I’ve been hit with adrenaline. Until I see Lula’s face.