One by one, the doors at the far end of the room flew open.A gust of wind hit Mayté’s face and extinguished all the candles at the table.Thick smoke surrounded her as she and Lo followed Misterioso and approached the door.The scent of woody musk filled her nostrils.Petals rained from the ceiling, making a path toward the door.She squinted and craned her neck to get a better look inside, but the haze was too thick.The only way to see was by going in.
Mayté turned to Lo.This could be the last time they saw each other.No, they were both going to get chosen.They had to.Lo flashed her a small smile.In the candlelight’s glow, Mayté swore she saw tiny spatters of red on Lo’s neck, but before she could get a closer look, the thickening smoke overtook them both.
All she could do was step into the pitch-black room.“Hello?”
Then all at once, the space lit up and burning candles surrounded her.A small wooden table stood in front of her.Atop it, a calavera.Plain and white, yet something told her it was the same one from the poster.Next to it sat a vial of amber liquid and a sign that read:MARÍA TERESA ROBLES, ARE YOU WILLING TO RISK EVERYTHING FOR A CHANCE TO BE KISSED BY FORTUNE?
“Yes,” she whispered.
The sign changed.So quick, she swore it must have happened when she blinked.Now it read:DRINK AND LET YOUR SOUL BE MEASURED.
This was it.She took the vial in her hand, studying the liquid.It looked as if it were made of dwindling stars at the brink of dawn.A tingle of warmth seeped through the vial into her flesh and straight into her pounding heart.How many times had she gulped down potions from the street mercado?Just yesterday she had drunk the potion from Señor Vasquez.Sometimes they worked.Other times they gave her stomach cramps, but something about this felt so much more permanent.
Drinking this would reveal her fate.
She lifted the vial to her lips and took a shaky breath.
Then she gulped it all down.It tasted sweet and went down silky smooth, warming her insides.But soon, a strange aftertaste slithered up her throat.Bitter and fizzy, it burned her tongue and constricted her throat.Her legs buckled and the warmth became suffocating.Her rebozo slipped off.Chills and hot sweat overtook her body.Her head throbbed and her heartbeat sounded so distant as if her heart had been ripped from her chest.
All at once the candle flames went out, unleashing a thick blanket of smoke.Mayté choked back a cough and resisted the urge to cover her nose.The candles lit back up, this time a blazing haunting blue.Marigolds bloomed around the room’s perimeter.One by one the petals plucked off and swirled through the air, surrounding her as if she were in the eye of an ethereal vortex.
The petals bit into her arm.She recoiled with a hiss.Scarlet blood bubbled up from her skin and glowed like a bright red energy spell.A strong smell of flowers and iron filled her nostrils.The calavera changed before her eyes.
Was any of this real?She gripped her head.Suddenly she was outside in the sunshine.Bright, burning sunshine.She squinted as the scent of paint comforted her.A girl with long black braids and a rebozo sat on a stool, painting a canvas.
Mayté rubbed her eyes.The girl was her.
Seagulls squawked and the ocean, glittering and lapis, splashed against the rocks.Where was this place?It certainly wasn’t Milagro.Then everything changed and a crowd of nobles formed.
“Mayté!Mayté!”They cheered her name, voices full of adoration.“Show us your next masterpiece!”
The other Mayté stood ahead, looking happy.Happier than Mayté herself had felt in a long time.The other Mayté beamed, brown cheeks extra rosy, as she pulled away a cloth to reveal a finished painting.The crowd burst into applause and began bidding.Bidding honest-to-Dios coins on her painting.
Tears pricked Mayté’s eyes.This was all she had ever wanted.But then she got a good look at the painting.A dark and drab little room with tattered curtains and light filtering through a tiny window.The cobwebs and dust in the painting looked so real.Too real.
The cheers and bidding transformed into screams and sobs.Then everything changed again.The azure sky transformed into a peeling ceiling.The salty ocean air shifted into something humid and musty.
“PLEASE DON’T!STOP!”Another scream chilled Mayté to her core.It was her own voice.
The door slammed open and Mayté saw herself fall to her hands and knees.The other Mayté’s body shook as she sobbed.A purply bruise blossomed under her left eye.
Standing at the doorway were the men from last night.They stared with cruel amusement.
“She’ll make us back what Robles took and then some.”
This was the fate that awaited her if she wasn’t chosen.
The door slammed, leaving Mayté alone with herself.The other Mayté curled into a ball.Seeing herself like this was strange and disturbing.More than anything, she wanted to tell herself that everything would be okay.But that would be lying.She took a step forward, toward her figure on the ground, but everything shifted once again.
Now the other Mayté wore a tattered dress and apron.Her cheeks were sunken in, and her eyes had the darkest of circles.She sat outside on the dusty road, alone and ignored in the street mercado as everyone else bustled about.She was away from those terrible men, but why did she look even more empty and broken?
A man walked by, lugging around a painted canvas depicting a scene.The other Mayté watched him.
Whenever Mayté saw others’ artwork, it sparked something in her.Sometimes confidence, sometimes envy—but always inspiration.It got her fingers itching to create.
But the other Mayté’s expression was as dull as ever.Unaffected.She put her head down.
The sickening realization hit Mayté so hard she almost vomited.This was her fate if she lost Fortune’s Kiss.Her dreams and her talent, gone.Too empty to even be of use to those terrible men.Alone on the streets with nothing left.
