Your heart shall be torn in two.
La Sirena’s prophecy hit her like a bolt of lightning.She wanted to ignore it.Pretend it was all just a lie.
But she couldn’t.
“What do you mean?”Her hold on him loosened.A thick purple fog rolled through.It obscured the moon and the tops of the buildings.Hazy.Uncertain.Treacherous.
“I …” Alejandro looked down.“I’ve been using you.”
“What?”Mayté wrenched away from him.Distant rumbles filled the air and streaks of lightning cut through the sky.She turned away , pinpricks of pain racing across her chest, followed by heat.Angry, furious heat.She whirled around to face him with a growl.“I’ve been using you too!”
His eyes grew as wide as an owl’s.
She jabbed her finger against his chest.“I was using you to learn more about the game, but you’re easy to talk to, and I … I enjoy being around you, so.”
“That’s not using me.”He stepped closer.
She didn’t back away.
“That’s survival.”
“Then how were you using me?”She forced out the question before she could take it back.
“The thing is, I don’t feel much of anything anymore.”Alejandro slowly released her.“Even the most potent potions—the ones that should cause pain—do nothing to me.”
She thought of the numbing sensation she’d felt from his lips last night.Was that why he resorted to Frío Alivio?
“Butyoumake me feel something, Mayté.”
Her heart swelled.“I mentioned how I enjoyed reading; well, the most fascinating part of Fortune Kiss’s library are the soul books.”Alejandro reached into his rucksack.She hadn’t even noticed that he had one with him.He pulled out a book with an azure cover.“These books are made to fit the player’s desires.I read them once new players are chosen.I’ve always held on to a hope that seeing other’s dreams on the pages would help me remember mine.”He held up the book, showing her the cover.
Mayté gasped.In golden swirly letters, it read:María Teresa Robles.She tore her gaze away, only to find that they were both back in the library.The fireplace roared to life.
Her fingers trembled as she took the book from Alejandro.Ever so carefully, she sat in the nearest seat and studied the cover.What could possibly be inside a book about herself?Abuelita used to read her illustrated stories she’d bought from the street mercado.Fairy tales about princesses getting rescued, peasants meeting Los Santos, and brujas unleashing magnificent curses on the cruelest of people.
Mayté imagined her own tragic fairy tale about a princess losing her crown and castle after her fool of a father gambled the throne away.She wet her lips and lifted the cover.
What she saw took her breath away.
Page upon page full of gorgeous paintings.The kind she could only dream of creating.Scattered between were photos of beautiful scenery.The same city she was in.The calming beach.A sunset view on a mountain.A field full of flowering cacti.An endless ocean on a cloudless day.“What is this?”
“Your wishes and dreams.”Alejandro peered over her shoulder.His face was so close, she could see just how long his dark eyelashes were and count the string of moles on his cheek.They looked like half of a crescent moon.“The books appear as soon as contestants are chosen.Most are full of palaces overflowing with gold.Some are … not so beautiful to look at.”He frowned.“But your book is full of the most beautiful dreams I’ve ever seen.The pages show you have a pure heart.”His warm breath sent pleasant chills down her neck.“I knew I had to meet you.And you’re just as beautiful on the outside as the dreams inside of you.”
No boy had ever appreciated her so intensely.She swallowed the biggest lump in her throat.It was something she could only have dreamed of, but now that it was happening, she didn’t know what to do or say.
He continued, “I’m not sure if it’s the magic of the book, oryou,but my memory has been coming back in bits and pieces.”
Mayté followed his gaze to the fireplace.The flames transformed, revealing a boy sitting on the street, sketching on parchment as a crowd gathered around.Some threw coins into his cup and in return he handed them his drawing, but when he looked inside the cup, the flames weakened, fizzling into smoke.
“I came from Milagro, and I had nothing.Except my drawings.”His voice became distant.Not quite dreamy, more like recollecting a recurring nightmare.“I drew charcoal portraits.Quick.Fast.People enjoyed them, yet no one wants to pay an artist what they’re worth.”
Mayté nodded for she knew exactly what he meant.It was the very reason she fought tooth and nail for patrons like Dominic’s mother, because most everyone else expected masterpieces for very little pay.“You came here to fund your dream.”
“I believe so, but that part is still foggy.”
“I don’t understand how you’re using me, though.”She looked back at the shelf.Each book was a vastly different color, but every name was printed in that same swirly gold.What did the other contestants have inside their books?
The fire crackled; several embers flew out like angry little spirits.Alejandro flinched and gripped the back of the seat.“I know.And we don’t have much time until people start looking for us.There’s one more thing I need to show you.”
