low table. The only word to describe the room was opulent, though it was not like her grandfather’s home. She thought it bolder, minimalist.
A man sat on one of the couches. He wore a gray suit and gray tie, with a jade lapel pin for a note of color. His face was finely chiseled and he had a gallant, youthful appearance—one could not guess him more than thirty-two, thirty-three—though the eyes dispelled that impression. His eyes were much older, an impossible shade of green. On his right shoulder there sat a raven, preening itself. She knew the bird and man to be supernatural, similar to the god she traveled with and yet of a different vintage.
The green-eyed man smirked and threw his head back, staring at the ceiling.
“How is it that you are here? There are wards on the doors and windows,” the man said.
“Neither locks, nor wards, can keep a Lord of Xibalba out. Death enters all dwellings.”
“Death has no manners. I thought your brother banished you.”
“Imprisoned me,” Hun-Kamé said in a monotone. “It was unpleasant.”
“Oh, well, you are free now. And dragging a soiled parcel, I see. That girl is more dust and grime than girl.”
The green-eyed man looked at her, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Casiopea felt her face grow hot with mortification, but she did not reply. She’d heard worse insults.
“Loray, Marquess of Arrows, I present the Lady Tun,” Hun-Kamé said with a motion of his hand.
The use of the word “lady” surprised her. Casiopea stared at Hun-Kamé, not knowing why he’d called her that. For a moment she felt like folding against herself, like a fan.
The demon smiled at this, and then Casiopea straightened herself and looked him in the face. Martín had told her she was haughty. She saw no reason to attempt modesty at this point. She sensed that would have been the wrong choice with Loray.
“A pleasure to meet you,” she said, extending a hand to him.
Loray stood up and shook it, despite her dirty and sweaty palms. “I am delighted to meet the lady. Delighted to see you again, too, Hun-Kamé. Sit, please, both you and your companion.”
They did. Casiopea was grateful for the respite. She wanted to take off her huaraches and rub her feet: she had a blister on her toe. Her hair, under the shawl, was in disarray.
“I suppose you aren’t here for wine and a cheese platter, although, should you fancy that, there are always drinks in this household. What do you need from me?” the demon asked, sitting down and stretching his legs.
“I am missing certain elements of myself and must retrieve them. You know my brother and have traded with him. Perhaps in your dealings he has revealed a secret or two. Or else you’ve dug those secrets out from other parties, as you are wont to do.”
“Dear Hun-Kamé, you might have forgotten this detail, being absent for as long as you’ve been: I am but a demon and do not trade with your brother,” Loray said, pressing a hand against his heart theatrically.
“You trade with everyone.”
“Everyone,” the raven repeated, hopping down to rest at Loray’s side. The demon tipped his head, glancing at the bird.
“I speak with everyone. It’s not the same at all.”
“Spare me the intricate definitions you apply to yourself,” Hun-Kamé said. “You survive by selling secrets. Sell me one. Or are you going to disappoint me and tell me you’ve lost your touch?”
“Lost his touch,” the raven agreed and flew off to the other end of the room, sitting on top of a sleek white liquor cabinet.
Loray raised an eyebrow at that and chuckled, pausing to give the bird an irritated look. “Well. You might be disappointed to hear I know where only one of your missing body parts lies, Hun-Kamé.”
Loray rose and poured himself a glass of a dark liquor he took from the white cabinet. Technically Yucatán was one of the few “dry” states in the country, but the application of the law was haphazard, and it was no surprise a fancy house like Loray’s came equipped with plenty of booze.
“Are you thirsty?” he asked.
She shook her head no. Hun-Kamé also rejected the drink. The demon shrugged and sat down again, the glass in his left hand.
“I know where you can find your missing ear, but that is all. The issue, however, is the price of my assistance, and the matter of your brother’s wrath if he hears I have helped you.”
“As