Echo Soul Seekers

puts me in a giving mood. So I decided to expand my horizons and allow all of these losers to come to my party.” She smiles and waves at a small group of them, and the way they react to being noticed by her—overexcited and giddy—well, it’s a good indication of just how much power she wields.
    I may have the power of the elements and the power of my ancestors on my side, but Lita has the power of charisma—attracting people to her like bees to a flower.
    “I have something for you,” I say, once we’ve met up with Xotichl. “For both of you. Auden too.” I dig through the contents of my purse, in search of the small, crudely wrapped packages I pass on to them. “Sorry about the wrap job—I didn’t have much time.”
    “Who cares about the paper?” Lita says, not missing a beat before she’s ripping into her gift. “It’s the insides that count, right?”
    I glance between them, noting Lita’s disappointment and Xotichl’s joy, when they discover a small carved opossum and bat respectively.
    “It’s a talisman.” I bite down on my lip.
    “I know what it is.” Lita looks at me. “You can’t grow up in Enchantment without being surrounded by loads of superstitions.”
    “It’s not just superstitious,” Xotichl says, curling hers into her palm. “These animal totems protect us, look after us, in more ways than you realize.”
    “Says the most superstitious person I know.” Lita laughs, playfully bumping her shoulder against Xotichl’s.
    “Maybe so. But just so you know, these aren’t like the ones they used to sell in the tourist shops—back when we had tourist shops. These are—”
    “Fortified,” I cut in. “They hold the power to protect. But only if you wear it, keep it nearby, and try not to share it with anyone else. Present company excluded, of course.”
    Xotichl tucks Auden’s gift into her pocket, and her bat into the soft buckskin pouch she recently started wearing, while Lita looks on with a skeptical expression. “I don’t have to start wearing one of those, do I?” She jabs a thumb toward Xotichl’s pouch. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m appreciative of the gift, and those pouches look okay on you guys, but I wear a lot of deep V-necks. It’s gonna stand out—and not in a good way.”
    “You can put it in a pocket,” Xotichl says. “Or…”
    Lita gazes down at her outfit, in search of a good place to stow it. But her red velvet dress with the faux white fur trim around the sleeves and hem is so tight, short, and pocket-free, it doesn’t allow room for anything more.
    “Oh, I know—I’ll put it in my boot!” She grabs onto my shoulder for balance, leaning forward as she wedges it deep into the shaft of her shiny, black, knee-high stilettos. Enveloping me into another one of her infamous perfumey hugs, she says, “I love it. Truly. I was just giving you grief. Guess I’m a little shocked at how easily you’re fitting into the way things are done around here.” She pulls away, runs her palms down the front of her dress. “And now, I leave you with Xotichl. She’s the only one I truly trust to look after you and make sure you stay put. And if either of you happen to find Dace, make sure you grab hold of him and make him stay too. Secret Santa is an exact science, you know? Everyone must be present and accounted for or it doesn’t work.” She leaves us with that, storming toward the stage where Auden’s band Epitaph plays. Waiting impatiently for them to finish their set so she can take their place.
    “Dace isn’t here?” I face Xotichl, trying to keep the worry from my voice, but it’s no use—she sees right through it.
    “He’s around. I felt his presence earlier. But you better not go looking for him. Lita’s kind of scary when she’s in party dictator mode. And now that she’s made you my responsibility, you need to stay put.” Xotichl laughs. “Bet you didn’t realize you held the fate of the entire gift exchange in your hands?” She cocks her head to the side. “Or—did you?”
    I laugh when she says it, though the truth is, it’s not entirely sincere, and Xotichl, true to form, is quick to catch on to even a hint of falseness.
    “There’s something different about you.” She reaches toward me, places her hand over mine.
    “I’m wearing makeup—lots and lots of makeup—courtesy of Jennika,” I tell her. “Oh, and I also let her curl my hair. And while I kind of like it, it’s also kind of weird to see