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 if you feared the gods or the night, archer,” Hun-Kamé replied. “But name your price.”
“Archer. How formal we’ve become. Well, as you know, I am restricted in my movements, bound to this city. A ridiculous spell someone set on me,” Loray said.
“By your own doing. If you didn’t want to be here, you shouldn’t have followed those Frenchmen into their petty war of conquest.”
“The mistakes of my youth! It takes a century or two to learn better. Give me leave to travel this land. Open the Black Road of Xibalba so that I may walk it.”
“Open,” the raven repeated, imitating his master.
Hun-Kamé looked at the demon. His angular face had a fixedness to it that was unpleasant, but then he tipped his head, a slight nod.
“When I regain my throne, you may walk the roads of Xibalba, beneath the earth, but Middleworld is not my domain,” the god reminded him.
“That will be sufficient, since from Xibalba I may find my way back to Middleworld easily enough,” the demon replied. “I will tell you who has your ear, but you may not like the answer. It is with the Mamlab, unfortunately, and you know what that entails, gentle rain or hard thunder, who can say. I despise weather gods. They are too moody.”
Loray downed his drink, his eyes resting on Hun-Kamé. Whether he expected Hun-Kamé to be disappointed or pleased with the answer, she did not know, but she did note that the god’s expression was leaden. He revealed nothing.
“Do you know where he is now?”
“Which one?”
“The youngest, for it could be none other than him. Speak, then. Where?”
“You are correct, it is the youngest. And I thought your brother was the diviner!”
“Marquess, vanish your mirth,” Hun-Kamé said, his voice clipped.
Loray sighed. “Precisely? It is hard to tell. Again, that is the problem with weather gods. But it is almost time for Carnival and I wager he will be in Veracruz. You’ll have to take a ship from Progreso to get there, but these days there are many vessels moving in and out of that port, so it should not be a problem. I can arrange your passage if you wish,” the demon said, polite as polite could be. “You might even be able to leave by tomorrow. It’ll give you a chance to rest.”
Rest, yes. Whether it was the trip, the shock of walking next to a god, or the bone shard in her hand, Casiopea felt the desperate need to curl up in bed and sleep.
“Come. You’ll like the guest rooms,” Loray said, guiding them through his house.
Loray was right. Her room was large and airy, with plenty of light filtering in. But she did not pause to look around much, instead falling upon the bed and sleeping as soon as her head touched the pillow.