Gods of Jade and Shadow(13)

He was trying to charm her, but Casiopea was not used to being charmed. The village boys scarcely paid attention to her. Had she been a common servant they might have wooed her and stolen kisses, but since she was a member of the Leyva family, however nominally, they did not dare. She had little practice in this arena.

For this reason, rather than blushing or lowering her lashes, she replied with earnest vehemence.

“Somehow I don’t think demons and gods have many friends,” she said.

“You are correct. But I’m willing to make an exception for you, seeing as I have a soft spot for mythmaking. Do you understand the journey you are about to embark on?”

“I know I have to help Hun-Kamé if I am to help myself.”

“Of course, but do you understand what is at stake?” he asked.

She had no idea. A somnambulist, she was placing one foot in front of the other and following whatever path Hun-Kamé traced. It was not a lack of initiative on her behalf: she was utterly confused, unsure any of what was happening was quite real, and reacted based on instinct. She was, however, curious.

“Tell me,” she said, knowing a story lay ahead, as fine as any of the legends and tall tales her father had spun for her.

“Thousands upon thousands of years ago a stone fell upon the earth. It cracked the land, left a scar. And when an event of such intensity takes place, something remains,” Loray told her, and seemed pleased in the telling. “Power, embedded in the peninsula, radiating from it. There is much magic here. In other parts of the world the ancient gods have gone to sleep, for although gods do not die, they must slumber when their devoted cease in their prayers and offerings.

“But here the gods still walk in Yucatán. They can move deep into the jungles, into the isthmus, or they can wander farther north, where the rattlesnakes curl in the desert, though the farther they walk from the place of their birth, the weaker they become. Yucatán is a well of power, and the Supreme Lord of Xibalba can tap into that power.”

“Power,” the raven said.

Loray raised his hand. The raven flew across the room to rest upon his wrist and the demon stroked its feathers.

“Through a series of unfortunate events I’ve found myself chained to this city and wish to escape it. If I can descend into Xibalba, I could transcend the bonds that hold me here…tunnel my way out, so to speak. But I can’t walk around Xibalba without permission.”

“Which Hun-Kamé will grant you,” she said.

“It is a gamble, of course. Hun-Kamé may fail, and if he does, I will find myself in trouble. His brother is harsh.”

Again here was a detail Casiopea had not considered, what it might mean to defy a god. She had followed Hun-Kamé because she thought it necessary, but a desire for freedom—even a “peasant” who has never owned a pair of garters can sense the call for adventure—had also pushed her forward, making her ignore the dangers she might face. Now that Loray spoke, it was obvious there was much to worry about. It was not only the words the demon said, but the way he said them, quietly, and she noticed that at no point had he spoken the name of Hun-Kamé’s rival.

Vucub-Kamé, she thought, and held the name in her mouth.

“I want insurance. That same insurance would prove beneficial to you,” Loray said.

“I don’t understand,” she replied.

“Inside you there is a strange thing, is there not? A piece of him, the seal of the underworld upon you.”

“A bone shard.”

She opened her hand and looked at her fingers. Whether Hun-Kamé had volunteered this information or Loray had found out by some other means she could not know.

“The Lords of the Underworld cannot walk Middleworld freely. They must use messengers to speak with mortals or else manifest during the nights, and then only for the briefest of periods. A single hour.”

“But we traveled in the daytime.”

“Because Hun-Kamé is not entirely a god. Because your human blood mixes with his immortal essence, cloaking him from the sun. It nourishes him too. Without it he would be lost, weakened as he is.”

She closed her hand into a fist and felt the shard there. It was like a living thing, hidden beneath the murmur of her blood.

“He said it would kill me, the bone shard.”

“It will. If it is not removed. But of course he cannot remove it, nor would he wish to in his state. And yet he must. The more life he absorbs from you, the more human he must become. It is a bad bargain for both of you, but there is no other way,” Loray said, his face serious.

The raven nodded his head, as if emphasizing this point.

“Yet this bargain may also be our salvation, if the tide turns and Hun-Kamé fails in his quest.” A smile formed on his lips.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Should he be unable to recover his missing elements, should his brother catch up with you and the situation be dire, cut your hand,” Loray said simply.

“What?”

He made a motion, as if he were holding a machete and slicing off his own arm.

“Cut it. It will sever the link to Hun-Kamé.”

“How will that solve anything?”

“It will help us. He will be thoroughly weakened.”

How easily he said “us,” as if they were old acquaintances. Any mortal would have been dazzled by the demon’s voice, the smile, his looks. Casiopea had enough common sense to be wary. Life had taught her to be untrusting. Dreamers and romantics like her father did not fare well, and though she had dreamed in Uukumil, she’d done so quietly, in secret. If someone chanced by, she closed the book she was looking at. She hid desires inside an old tin can. She never told anyone what she hoped for.