“Dovie!” Ignacio reached out and yanked her toward him. Her breath came out in anoof, and her fingers splayed over his chest as the stampede rumbled by. The ground shook. Or maybe it was simply his pulse. She was pressed against every part of him.
Her gaze met his. Esmeralda appeared shocked at first, but then she giggled.
Gods, I love her.
Screams tore through the air from outside the tent.
He’d have to tell her again later. And get that kiss too. He took hold of her wrist, and they ran.
The two bolted through the chaos of fireworks blasting far too low for comfort and loose animals tearing into tents and food carts. They tucked their heads low as dozens of ratas stormed out of the Fun House and chased after the freed menagerie.
“Are you ready?” he asked his love.
She smiled bright. “Ready to smash a bastard god into oblivion? You better believe it.”
Chapter 47
Esmeralda
They smashed mirror after mirror after mirror with the mallets they had stolen from the strongman game as they ran through the carnival grounds to the Fun House.
Haunting laughter rumbled through the tent. Esmeralda froze.
“Don’t stop,” Ignacio panted. “He cannot harm you so long as you don’t look into his eyes or touch the glass.”
They came to a fork in the labyrinth. Ignacio went right. She went left.
She tried her best to ignore the goose bumps sprouting over her arms. To ignore the fear whispering in her ear, telling her that none of this would do them any good. That they were doomed.
She raised her mallet but startled when the face in the mirror popped into existence right before her.
“Do you think this will fix what has already been done to your friend?” the god’s voice rattled through her bones.
She gripped the mallet harder in her hands, steadying herself.“I don’t know. But it certainly feels good to try.” She smacked the mallet into another mirror. Beautifully colored stone cascaded onto the floor in splintered shards.
Tezcán laughed. “You are a mischievous one, Esmeralda Montero.” He dragged out each syllable of her name like he was savoring the taste as it slipped off his tongue. “No wonder the boy wants you so desperately. But what will happen in a year from now? In five? He’ll grow tired of your sharp shards. He’ll leave you, and this time for good.”
Esmeralda didn’t slow her assault. “Shut up.”
“Suit yourself. But you know it is true. You are unlovable. I’ve seen your past, how your own parents left you. They knew you weren’t worth the trouble.”
Her heart clenched in her chest. She smashed another mirror. Another.
“Poor child. I can see your pain so clearly. I can help you with that, you know. I can take away all the things that broke you, that changed the fabric of your being. I can make you better. I can make you easy to love. Look into my eyes, and I will fix every crack and scar.”
She peeked over her shoulder. She couldn’t see Ignacio but could hear him hard at work. The red bulbs overhead dimmed ever so slightly with each break. The gilded frames holding up some of the mirrors started to chip and rust. The magic was waning. Every crack was weakening the enchantments in this place.
“Best hurry,” Tezcán said. “If you want me to smooth out the sharp shards of your heart, if you want to be less chaotic and messy, I can change that. Change you. And then you’ll be solovable that no one will leave you behind ever again. But I cannot help you once the portal is severed.”
She returned her gaze to the mirror before her. Images played across the shadowy stone. Her as a snarling little girl. Always snapping. Always defensive. Her as an early teen, growing cold and aloof. She thought it better to be alone and push people away than to get hurt. She saw herself at sixteen and seventeen. Wild and jealous. A tangle of curls and rebellion. She saw herself now. Still all those things. The broken child in her had never properly healed and she was inside her even now. Not crying but screaming, raging like a snared beast because of all the terrible things that had happened to her.
Maybe some of it was her fault. But so much of it had been out of her hands. How could a little girl know how to protect herself when she’d never been taught to? When the only adults in her life had been selfish and careless with her?
Ignacio had told her that he never blamed her for how she acted, that she was just a kid trying to survive. And he’d been right. She was a little girl scratching through the bad, trying to find some good. And she had found it. In her friends. In Ignacio. And, more importantly, in herself. She was a fighter. She was clever and strong, and rather funny too. If someone thought she was too much, then that was their loss, because she was fantastical in every damn way.
She tore her eyes from the mirror.
“Go find some other sucker to mess with,” she sneered. “Actually, go back to hell.”
