Gods of Jade and Shadow - Silvia Moreno-Garcia Page 0,49

streetcars fearfully and the automobiles in wonder, and someone behind shoved her aside, eager to get to the other side of the street. She was confused by the city and its incessant activity, but also happy and grateful for Hun-Kamé’s company. She thought of him as her friend.

It was not the gift that had prompted this, but their daily interactions, his politeness, which were quickly endearing him to her. This was hardly surprising considering how few friends Casiopea had. There was her mother, who with her never-ending optimism helped the young woman face each day. Casiopea’s female cousins tended to ignore her. When she was younger she had been able to play with the children of the maids and the other boys and girls in town, but as she matured everyone grew distant. Her grandfather was the cause of this, since he didn’t want any grandchild of his, however nominal, in the company of “rabble.”

Casiopea, caught in this in-between state, focused on her chores instead of socializing. In her spare time, she looked to books or the stars for company.

To have someone at her side was alien and yet a delight. There was joy in the quest, now, the joy of her nascent freedom and his company.

“It is of no consequence,” he replied.

“It is to me,” she said. “And I want to say…of course I want to say thank you, even if I have no idea why you even bothered with it.”

She smiled. In return, he gave her a smidgen of a smile, so tiny she felt she might have to cup it in her hands to keep it safe, or the wind might blow it away.

The Lord of Xibalba did not smile often, and he did not laugh. This does not mean he did not find amusement in certain things. It was a dry sort of amusement, which was not polluted by mirth. That he smiled now was because he was dislocated, altered and altering, and due to the mortality creeping in his veins. But it was also because, like Casiopea, he had been alone for a very long time and found an amount of comfort in the company of another being.

He drew nearer to her, the smile growing, becoming careless. Abruptly he remembered himself. The smile faded. She did not notice, too busy turning her head, looking down the avenue.

“I should find a hairdresser,” Casiopea told him as they crossed another street.

“Would you like me to accompany you?” he asked.

“I can manage,” she said, not wanting to seem a child who must be guided at every turn.

“Then I will see you back at the hotel,” he replied, handing her several bills.

She looked at the money. “Won’t it turn into a puff of smoke when you walk away?”

“Don’t worry. Loray gave me real money; I have not been casting illusions in order to obtain sufficient legal tender. Though he’ll have to wire more if we want to pay people in these delightful bills rather than sticks and stones. A nuisance. Were I in Xibalba, I’d simply command my servants to bring me the jewels and treasures of the earth. Were I in Xibalba I’d show you truly fine jewelry to wear, necklaces of silver moths and the blackest pearls you’ve ever seen, darker than the darkest ink.”

“This bracelet is more than fine,” she said simply, running her fingers along its surface, for she did not want to begin wishing for impossibilities and great treasures.

She set off, then, first to find a post office. Casiopea had thought to write her mother a letter explaining herself, but she considered better of it. She decided a letter would be too problematic. She would not know where to begin or end her narrative. Instead, she opted for a pretty postcard. Casiopea kept her words brief, saying she was in Mexico City and was doing well, that she would write more later and send her address. She guessed that by now everyone in town thought she’d run off with a lover, and she did not bother to mention the presence of her companion. Besides, she could hardly say “and I am with a god at this time.”

After the post office Casiopea found a hairdresser who looked at her curiously, wondering if she’d tried to bob her hair by herself. Casiopea lied and said that had been the case.

“Yes, bobbed hair is all the rage,” the hairdresser told her. “My husband doesn’t like it much, but it makes for good business. You’re

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