some no-good fool, like her mother did. Good riddance, we thought, the stupid tart and—”
Vucub-Kamé looked at his hands, at his palms, which were dark, blackened by burn marks. He had suffered and labored for this throne. His brother could not have it.
“I want her found. Fetch her for me,” he ordered.
“Lord, I would, but I do not know how. I am feeble. I have grown old,” Cirilo said, grasping the mattress and attempting to lift himself back to his feet, making more of a show of his frailty than he should, for he had no intention of leaving his home to look for anybody.
The death lord beheld the wrinkled man with disdain. How brief were the life of mortals! Of course the old man could not chase after the girl.
“Let me think, let me think. Yes…I have a grandson, lord. He is young and strong, and besides, he knows Casiopea well. He can recognize her and he can bring her to you,” Cirilo suggested after he managed to stand and find his cane, pretending that this had not been his first thought.
“I would speak to him.”
“I will fetch him promptly.”
Cirilo went in search of his grandson, leaving the god to contemplate the room. Vucub-Kamé ran a hand across the lid of the chest, feeling the absence of his brother like a palpable thing. The girl had left no imprint, he could not picture her, but he could imagine Hun-Kamé reconstituted, in a dark suit, the kind mortals wore, traversing the country.
The old man waddled back in. He had with him a young man who looked like Cirilo had once been, his face vigorous.
“This is my grandson, my lord. This is Martín,” Cirilo said. “I have tried to explain to him who you are and what you need of him.”
The god turned toward the young man. Vucub-Kamé’s eyes were as pale as his hair, paler, the color of incense as it rises through the air. Impossible eyes that gave the young man pause, forcing him to look down at the floor.
“My brother and your cousin seek to do me wrong. You will find the girl and we will put a stop to them,” the god said. “I know where they will be headed, as they will no doubt try to retrieve certain items I’ve left in safekeeping.”
“I want to assist, but your brother…sir, he is a god…and I am a man,” Martín said. “How would I accomplish such a thing?”
He realized the boy was unschooled in magic, unschooled in everything. Raw like an unpolished gemstone. This might have been a source of irritation, but then Cirilo had been much the same and had played his role.
Besides, he could taste the mordant laughter of fate in this affair. That it should be Cirilo’s granddaughter who would assist his brother and in turn it should be the grandson who would assist Vucub-Kamé. Folktales are full of such coincidences that are never coincidences at all, but the brittle games of powerful forces.
Vucub-Kamé shook his hand dismissively. “You will be my envoy and I shall endeavor to assist you in your journey. You need not do anything too onerous, merely convince her to meet with me.”
“That is all?” Martín asked.
“Take this.”
Vucub-Kamé slid a heavy jade ring from his middle finger and held it up, offering it to the mortal man. Martín hesitated, but he took the ring, turning it between his fingers. Skulls were engraved all around its circumference.
“Wear this at all times, and when you wish to summon me, say my name. But I will come to you only after the sun has set, and you must not call on me for foolish matters. You will find the girl and convince her to meet with me. Take care that my brother does not discover you are around.”
“Your brother will not suspect I am following him?”
“Let us hope not. I will arrange for transportation for you; await my word.”
Cirilo had begun to speak, but Vucub-Kamé shushed him. He stood directly in front of the young man and read in his eyes fear and pride and many wasted human emotions, but he focused on his hunger, which was considerable.
“I raised your family to wealth after your grandfather assisted me. Do this properly and you will not only continue to enjoy a privileged position, but I shall raise you very high, higher even than your grandfather was ever raised,” he said.
The young man had the good sense to nod, but he did not speak.
“Fail