long gone by then,” Hun-Kamé replied.
“Ah, yes, run. Run to meet your destiny. But you may find yourself outmatched in Tierra Blanca, and I will be avenged, one way or another. Vucub-Kamé brings a new era with him; you are the dregs of the old one.”
“And you, meanwhile, are dead.”
The Uay Chivo’s mouth snarled, but it could not bite, it could not harm anymore, and as the blood of the sorcerer cooled, like diminishing embers, the smoke dissipated.
She jumped off the desk.
Hun-Kamé placed the necklace around his neck and turned to her. On his cheeks and forehead, on his hands were the black burn marks left by the goat, but they crumbled away in the beat of a heart, the skin flawless again. Yet he reached for her and leaned against her, like a man who has been injured in a nasty brawl, like she had leaned on him before.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“As well as can be under the circumstances,” he said, although he sounded breathless.
Casiopea nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You cut your lip,” he said.
“That explains the taste,” she muttered. She had no idea at what point that had happened. “It’ll go fine with the other bruises.”
“What bruises?” he replied.
His fingers grazed her lips, the lightest touch, there and then gone. She realized he was merely casting his magic, healing whatever cuts and abrasions she sported, no alternate agenda aside from this, but her heart leaped up.
“There. A useful trick, don’t you think?” he said.
“Yes, but it would help if you could also mend clothes,” she said. He looked a complete mess, the furthest from a god one could imagine, his hands dirty with soot and his hair wild. Which didn’t matter one bit, because that heart of hers was dancing, and she smiled.
“Let us leave this city,” he told her, shaking his head. “And let us sleep.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she replied. “And maybe…maybe, we could buy some aspirin before that.”
His lips curled, his eyes grew lighter. He returned the smile. He hadn’t smiled at her before, or if he had it had not been like this, his face clumsy and unadorned. The artless shape of the smile endeared him to her. She chuckled despite all the aches in her body, which did not fade as quickly as the shape of the bruises.
They slept nearly a whole day as the train sped west, the most direct route to Baja California actually taking them across the United States rather than Mexico, following the border. Her sleep was dreamless and Casiopea was thankful. She did not wish the image of the dead sorcerer to haunt her, nor did she want to envision the Black Road and the gray soils of Xibalba. A deep sleep in her twin berth was a blessing.
When they awoke they sat by the window. The land and the sky and the cacti were bright streaks of color. An arid sight, so different from the lush jungles of the south, the blue pools of water where she’d cooled herself. Baja California was closer now and with it the feeling that something important would happen. Portents in the air, in the clouds, if she’d known to read the signs.
Hun-Kamé was quiet and kept his distance despite their narrow quarters. He had a sour look, and sat very firmly on the lounge chair that faced their berths. It made her nervous, this stasis, even if she knew his silences. It chafed Casiopea, making her want to spring up and pace around in counterpoint.
Something was amiss. Their triumph against the sorcerer should have brought them joy. Instead, he wallowed.
The sun burned the windows; the heat was a white heat, like a sheet. Back in Mérida she could hide in the cool patio of the house, but there was no hiding on this train, and despite all the niceties it contained, it was hot as an iron in there. She opened the window a bit—dirt and cinders would blow in, but she needed to cool herself—and looked at Hun-Kamé over her shoulder.
The train let out a long whistle.
His gaze was on a faraway point she could not reach.
“What is it?” she asked, unable to stand it any longer.
“He seeded the path for us, but now I wonder what will flower,” Hun-Kamé said. At least he’d spoken up, breaking the silence.
“I don’t understand.”
“My brother left behind all these pieces for me to retrieve, drawing me farther from the heart of my empire, from