And that was why they would win.
“First, we have to get in.”Mayté wet her lips.“And I’m worried about the cost,” she admitted.
“Oh, don’t worry about that.”Lo stood and brushed off her gown.“If it’s money, I’ll handle it.We should also bring our most prized possession.Just in case.”
Leave it to Lo to make problems just—poof—disappear!Mayté set aside her painting supplies and stood.“All right.Then let’s meet at Centro Street tomorrow night, right after sunset.”
“Deal.”Lo held out her hand.
Mayté shook it.“Also, bring back my rebozo.That’s my most prized possession,” she teased.
They both burst out laughing.Mayté’s heart pounded.
Their childhood pact started full of hopes, dreams, and fantasies.Promised with blood.Solidified with a handshake.
And now, they would fulfill it.
“Mayté!”Her older brother rushed over, out of breath.
She clicked her tongue in irritation.“What is it, Carlos?”Only ten months older than her, a lot of people confused them for twins.Out of all six Robles kids, they looked the most alike.They even had the same full upper lips that straightened out whenever they grinned, along with the tiny cleft in their chins.Though Carlos was taller, they were even built similarly—muchto Mayté’s chagrin.He was the only other person who knew about their secret spot, and he always had a knack for interrupting at the worst moments.
Water splashed as Lo nearly lost her balance and slipped into the fountain.She barely caught herself with her hand, instead soaking her sleeve.
“Are you okay?”Mayté and Carlos blurted in unison.
“I should be getting home.”Lo abruptly stood, shook at her dripping sleeve, and avoided looking at Carlos.
“Are you sure?”Mayté asked.
“I need some rest.”Lo smiled.“But I’ll see you tomorrow evening, yes?”
“Yes.”The excitement of Fortune’s Kiss filled Mayté’s head once again.
Carlos looked like he wanted to say something, but Lo quickly turned on her heels and rushed off.He stared at her retreating figure.
When their family had still been part of Las Cinco, everyone thought that Carlos would marry Lo.Then she and Mayté would have been sisters officially—bound by marriage.Lo and Carlos said they had feelings for each other back then.Mayté sometimes wondered if they still did.She always used to tease her brother about Lo.He would get so mad, yelling and huffing, but his reddening ears always told a different story.Not long after their father’s fall from grace, she had once teased him out of habit.But that time there was no yelling or arguing.Just red ears and sad eyes.
“Was there something you wanted?”Mayté folded her arms.
Carlos jolted as if a trance had broken.“Ma sent me to find Father.He’s been gone since yesterday.”
“Of course he has.”Andof courseCarlos couldn’t find him on his own.He always had to involve Mayté.“All right.Let’s find him.”
As the two searched, the sun sank below the horizon.And dusk brought danger.Abuelita used to say that spirits roamed the street at night.Blending in with the gleaming fireflies, lights the color of peridots dipped in gold, the spirits’ wills wisped about.But it wasn’t just a pretty story, it came with a warning: hay que tenerle miedo a los vivos, no a los muertos—and she was right.It wasn’t the dead they had to worry about.
Even with Carlos at her side, it wasn’t safe.Drunks lumbered about, cursing anyone who would listen, and pickpockets grew bolder in the cover of dark.Not to mention the sneering men who would eye a girl as if she were freshly cut meat being sold at the mercado.
The warm wind picked up, taking with it a flock of bubbles.The bubbles were soapy and yellowing, like parchment left too long in the sun.The result of spiking alcohol with a bubbly Ni Una Preocupación potion.Mayté stopped.The bubbles wafted out from the windows of Cantina Esperanza, along with yells, laughter, and lively wails of the accordion.The trashiest cantina in Milagro was also one of the most popular.The small shack, its adobe walls stained with urine, vomit, and possibly blood, was always packed full.Even if she were old enough to consume alcohol, Mayté wouldn’t want to set foot in there.After Carlos once had come back from the place with a black eye and all his coins gone, she knew it was nothing but trouble.
Carlos winced as if the sight of the building brought on those unpleasant memories.
The swinging doors flew open, and a rough-looking group of men threw another man out.Bubbles flew from the man’s mouth as he landed in the mud.“Come back once you can pay your tab.”The group of men blocked the door, jeering.Smoke from their cigars mingled into a thick smog.
“He comes in here acting like he’s still part of Las Cinco.Pathetic.”
“Don’t let your coins fly away this time, hmm?”The men burst out laughing as they bustled back into the cantina.
José Robles sat up and wiped the mud off his face.His tattered poncho and patched-up pants were absolutely filthy.He seemed worn-down as usual, with his furrowed brow, the premature wrinkles on his brown face, and his graying hair—a shell of his former aristocratic self.But now, he looked absolutely trashed, bloodshot eyes wide as he slurred something.More bubbles flew from his mouth, even dirtier than before.
