“The death mask.” My mother dips her fingers in a bowl of white clay. She covers my face with it, blows on it to help it dry quickly. Her breath is sweet like rose punch. Then comes the coal. She… — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
“His knuckles are thick with calluses that come from repeatedly beating on things.” — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
“Enough,” the horned man says. “I am Agosto, Faun King of the Meadow del Sol, and these are my kin. We live here safely… — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
“Impatience will get you killed almost as quickly as fear, boy.” I” — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
“remember the night of my Deathday. The portal opened up, and she was on the other side, waiting, her face hidden by the horned… — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
“it looks like one of them shifts in midair. Her wings elongate to a massive wingspan, and hands with claws form at the tips.… — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
“If you can’t learn to sacrifice the small things, you’ll never get the thing you’re after.” I” — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
“His skin is the green of aging leaves, and his body is covered in thorny vines that move like extended limbs. He raises his… — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
“Are you hungry?” a girl asks. She’s got wild curls and light-brown skin that is run through with green lines, like a birch tree.… — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
“At the head of the table, where the roots of the fallen tree create a high, twisted chair, is a man. His chest is… — Zoraida Córdova Copy Share Image
