Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Cordova Page B

like it’s in my throat, beating a scream from my mouth. I jump in front my sister, my crazy, rude, wonderful, beautiful sister.
    The air in the kitchen thickens like fog. Fear takes ahold of me. I fear this is my fault. I fear this power will only bring terrible things. I fear this is only the beginning.
    I take everything I’m afraid of and shove it aside. It’s like my body isn’t even mine, a bright burning light surrounds me, flows through me and hits the maloscuro. I fall on my knees, shaking as I hold the barrier between the creature and us.
    The kitchen rumbles with thunder. The charge pulls from my stomach. It both tickles and hurts, an invisible chord that links me to the magic and the maloscuro. I feel its essence and my skin crawls. It’s malign, unwanted, death.
    I cry out as my control on the shield weakens. The creature needs only a little bit of weakness to get in. A burning pain slashes across my chest and then instantly goes cold. The maloscuro freezes in place. Its wicked, wide mouth is open, like a bear trap ready to snap around my head. The rotting smell makes me gag.
    â€œYou froze it!” my mom marvels.
    â€œI can’t hold it!” Sweat drips down my face. Blood drips from the bleeding cuts on my chest.
    â€œGet back,” my mother says. She raises the mace over her head and screams to the Deos. She swings down hard. The spikes crunch against the maloscuro’s skull. A wet splatter hits my face. She hits it again and again. When she brings down the mace for a final blow, our whole house trembles.

8
    Shell of sea and cinder flame,
    show us the enemy to blame.
    Dirt of earth and wing of skies,
    stop his heart and blind his eyes.
    â€”Protection Canto, Book of Cantos
    When I wake up, I’m on the living room floor. Rose is laid out beside me, a pillow tucked under her head. Lula’s on the couch next to me.
    â€œYou both passed out,” Lula says. Her knees are drawn up to her chest. Her eyes are red and puffy. I don’t think I’ve seen Lula cry this hard since Tristan Hart, the swim team captain, broke up with her last year.
    â€œYou’re healed.”
    â€œMa did it.” Lula covers the side of her face with her hair. “There’s a scar.”
    I put my hand on her arm, but she pulls away. I wonder if she blames me.
    â€œWhere’s Ma?” I try to sit up, but everything hurts. When I look down, I see my shirt is ripped open. Four red scars mark my chest.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she says. “Your cut was deeper than mine. We couldn’t heal it completely. It’ll scar too.”
    I don’t care about a scar. I care that my family is alive.
    â€œLula…” As my eyes adjust, I can see the bruises across her chest, the dark circles around her eyes.
    â€œDon’t. We had to heal you. We’re blood, Alex.” She hesitates but then holds her hand for me to take.
    I squeeze her hand. “Thank you.”
    â€œMa’s Circle is here. They’re cleansing the house and getting rid of—of that thing .”
    I stare at the ceiling, settling into the buzz on my skin. There’s a huge spot where the paint is chipping away. Dad used to say he was going to fix it, but then he left, and every day, it gets bigger and bigger.
    â€œI used to think Mama Juanita made them up,” I say. “Just to scare us into eating her tripe soup.”
    Lula’s laugh is wet and snotty, but it feels good to hear. “And then she’d promise a unicorn, but I’m still waiting on that one.”
    We lie still, listening to the tumble of shells across the kitchen floor. They absorb all the bad energy, and then they’re sent out to sea for cleansing. I think of the maloscuro’s head cracking open, the insides splattering all over the kitchen. I wonder if there are enough shells in the world to cleanse this house.
    â€œWhy is my face so stiff?” I ask her.
    â€œDo you know what