The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina (85)

Orquídea made a strangled noise. “We haven’t—we don’t—he doesn’t want me that way anymore.”

“He does,” Lázaro affirmed. “He is simply content knowing that you are his.”

“I am no one’s.”

“Brave Orquídea,” he chuckled. “Who will entertain me when I am back among the stars?”

“Don’t you have friends? Family?”

Lázaro frowned. “We do not have those words. And my kind have no sense of humor.”

She smiled then, truly smiled. “Lázaro. When you share your magic with me, will it—will it hurt?”

“Me more than you,” he said softly. “I have to open up myself to you.”

“Sounds intimate,” she said, worry piqued in her voice.

“Believe me, it is not the fleshy awkward sex you humans have. I would be letting you into the thing that makes me me. I suppose your priests would call it a soul. It would be like opening a vein and letting you feed off me. Consume the very power that makes me what I am. I would have to trust you not to kill me in the process. I am putting all of my trust in you.”

“I know,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Then you are free to go your own way. Make your wishes come true. I truly hope our paths never cross again, my friend.” Lázaro reached through the iron bars and touched Pedrito’s nose and startled when the baby let out a cry. “What is wrong with it?”

She laughed and sang a nonsensical lullaby that her mother had sung to her. “Haven’t you ever held a baby?”

“Of course not.”

“Can you make them?” she wondered. “I mean, if you remained on earth?”

“Yes, I suppose I could. But I do not belong here,” he said, amazed at the way Pedrito quieted at the sound of his mother’s voice. “Remember, Orquídea, every time you use your magic, there is a price.”

“My dear fallen star, so you’ve told me again and again.”

“If your husband is any example of your kind, it is worth repeating.”

Orquídea looked away. “Bolívar seems fine to me.”

“As long as I am tied up here, he will not pay it. That is his loophole. So, for you, well, have a care. Wish for riches, and you might get a million dollars in sucres, but the next day the country’s currency becomes the dollar and the exchange rate is not in your favor. Wish for true love, and you might get it, but he might drown in a year because you were not specific.”

I wished for you. Bolívar had said. He had gotten her, in his own way.

“So, you’re saying be specific,” she teased.

“And careful. This is celestial magic, not a birthday candle. And after it is done, I want your word, your vow, that you will not look for me when the magic begins to fade.”

“I won’t want to,” she said, but smiled. “Where will you go?”

He looked up at the ceiling. How long since he’d looked up at the sky? “I am going home.”





29

THE GIFT OF THE RIVER MONSTER




After they sealed up the tomb, Ana Cruz drove them back to river shore in La Atarazana. This time, only the Montoyas got out of the car and walked to the edge of the rickety pier.

“What does a river monster look like?” Rhiannon asked.

“Ghosts and miracles, I have seen,” Rey said. “This is out of my peculiarities’ expertise.”

“Orquídea said that it was ancient, part human and part crocodile,” Marimar said. The skin around her clavicles itched and she pressed her fingers against both the old and the new thorn that had grown there. “The question isn’t what it looks like but how we get its attention.”

“I know!” Rhiannon gasped and darted to the murky water’s edge, leaning over so far, the slightest breeze might tip her over. She stuck her little hand there and disturbed the surface.

“Rhiannon!” Rey startled and reached for her, but she wasn’t in danger.

“Papa Félix!” she said in her small, fairy voice. The water gently lapped at her touch. “I need your help. Can you find the river monster who was friends with Mamá Orquídea? Tell him that she says hello.”

They waited. Across the river, the city of Durán was obscured by low-hanging clouds. Before long the sky began to darken. Rain clouds unloaded overhead in torrential showers, and Jefita yelled that they would catch their death before any false god could get the chance. Traffic blared in the distance and pinpricks of lighting tore into the sky. They waited for a so long that they nearly turned away.

Marimar felt the weight of her family. The ache at the base of her throat. “We should go.”

Rhiannon pointed. “Look!”

A slick creature about one foot long, with a reptilian body and the humanoid head of a crocodile, crept up onto the pier. It clawed up to the top of a post to be closer to eye level.

“Orquídea Divina’s progeny,” the reptilian creature said in a wheezy voice.

“Orquídea’s… river monster—uh—friend?” Rey said.

Rhiannon picked it up in the cradle of her palms. It was smaller than any of them had expected. This was the creature that had wrestled grown men and made a pact with their grandmother?