Gods of Jade and Shadow(52)

“Lord, I serve you with every breath of mine, do not look at me with anger. It was but a slip of the tongue,” Xtabay said. “A tongue that I wish to keep.”

“A slip. Or you would rather serve my brother?”

Xtabay turned her head to stare at him.

“I have done as you said. I left behind the jungle to live in this distant city where my power waned—”

“Not waned since you were in possession of Hun-Kamé’s finger. Do not dismiss the might of his essence, nor the baubles and diversions I’ve provided you,” Vucub-Kamé said. He enjoyed when his generosity was acknowledged and bristled when it was not appreciated. He had kept Xtabay in splendor, ensuring her watch would be more than bearable.

“No,” Xtabay admitted. “I will not. But you know well I do not belong here, and it has been an unpleasant chore for me to remain, and yet I’ve done so since you said he would come one day seeking me and you wanted him to follow your route.”

“He must. And knowing this, I feel you might have thought to curry favor again with the Lord,” he said acridly.

She had been an esteemed courtier in the Jade Palace, often attending Hun-Kamé. She could spin a good story, and her malicious antics in Middleworld amused the Lords of Xibalba. Sometimes she dragged a poor, helpless man down the Black Road, to the city. Such mortals could not remain long in Xibalba, but the lords laughed as the man was subjected to terrible sights or feasted like a prince before the food turned to ashes in his mouth.

Vucub-Kamé, of course, suspected Xtabay of treachery even if such treachery was unlikely.

“I am wounded by your accusations,” she said.

Xtabay pressed the tips of her fingers against the god’s mouth, then ran a hand over his brow, as if seeking to smooth the creases there, attempting to erase his frown. He would not allow her such intimacy and stepped away, circling her.

“How did he escape you?” he inquired.

“As you pointed out, my magic was not sufficient,” Xtabay replied.

“Yet you told me it would be. That is why I picked you for this task.”

“I told you I might be able to slow him down, that I might be able to distract him for a while. But he seems distracted enough by the girl he drags around with him.”

Xtabay sounded displeased but not insincere. She looked over her shoulder at him.

“I do your will, Vucub-Kamé. When you hatched your scheme, did I not assist you? I could have courted favor with Hun-Kamé back then and revealed your whole sordid trap. Instead I concealed your plans, found the mortal man you needed.”

“You did,” Vucub-Kamé conceded.

Vucub-Kamé stood behind Xtabay, letting a hand trail down her hair, the inattentive gesture of a master with an annoying pet rather than a lover, although they had at one point been lovers and he had offered her godhood, a seat by his side, in order to sway her hand and secure her assistance. Gods have appetites, more voracious than those of men, and how quickly they turn from one pursuit to another, like uncorking a wine, taking a sip, then tossing the rest down a drain.

There was no measure of affection between Vucub-Kamé and Xtabay at this point. When they had plotted together, he had enjoyed the plotting, but now that it was all done and arranged, he’d grown disenchanted with her and she with him.

“Did he say anything interesting?” Vucub-Kamé asked, ceasing in his half-hearted caress. He was bored already and yearning to return home. Xibalba called to him; he was tied to the shadow realm. Xtabay was not bound to Xibalba, since she had not been born there, and did not feel that same invisible chain around her waist. Middleworld interested him, yes, but only because it housed within its borders the mortals who might adore him. It was Xibalba he loved, Xibalba and himself and no other.

“We hardly spoke. My magic was of no use, it could not hold him, and I gave him the box. He asked who held the next piece of him, and I said it is the Uay Chivo.”

“And he did not inquire any further?”

“What would he inquire about?” Xtabay asked, sitting on her couch, her bracelets clinking as she pressed a hand against her forehead. “He was rather in a hurry. I could tell he is growing weaker, becoming more human.”

“I thought my brother would have more stamina,” Vucub-Kamé said.

Perhaps Hun-Kamé would not make it to Baja California, after all. Who knew. If he was truly diminishing, consumed like a quickly burning candle, his encounter with the Uay Chivo could prove difficult. The uay was much more…forceful than Vucub-Kamé’s other associates.

“Apparently not. If you should have seen him when he left, you would not have believed it, he moved like someone who has never walked the Black Road. That girl was reflected in his eye.”

Vucub-Kamé had been serene, but when Xtabay said those simple words a shiver went down his spine. He had a talent for soothsaying. He read fortunes in the blood of myriad creatures, but sometimes an augury would present itself without being requested. The words were unpleasantly close to an omen. They made him pause and stare at Xtabay.

“What is it?”

“Quiet,” Vucub-Kamé ordered, seized with a mad need.

He moved toward the parrot. The bird shivered. Vucub-Kamé stretched out a hand, opened its cage and grabbed the bird, snapping its neck.