“I could say the same thing,” he told her. “Your mother’s been worried sick, you did not even leave a note, and Grandfather will not shut up about you.”
This much was true, but he said it in order to admonish and mollify her, not because he cared to inform her about the state of affairs in Uukumil. He thought if he could make her feel guilty, he might get her to agree to the meeting.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made anyone uneasy,” Casiopea said, and she did look honestly pained, but then she frowned. “How did you know I was here? I’ve told no one.”
“You didn’t think you could steal—”
“Steal? I didn’t steal anything,” she replied, interrupting him.
“You did, you stole some bones that were locked in an old box and now we’ve got hell to pay for it.”
They were standing in the middle of the street. Martín maneuvered his cousin aside, so that they were now under the awning of a store, which offered more privacy.
“What do you mean?” Casiopea said.
“The Lord of Xibalba, Vucub-Kamé, is upset. He’s angry at Grandfather, at your mother, at me, at every single Leyva.”
“You had nothing to do with it.”
“Try telling that to a god.”
His words were having the expected effect. Casiopea lowered her eyes, her lips pursed.
“I’m sorry. But I don’t see why you are here,” she muttered.
“He’ssent me.”
“Vucub-Kamé?”
“Yes, of course. Didn’t you wonder what would happen to us when he learned what you’d done?”
“I…I had no choice,” she protested. “But if you must blame someone, you can blame me.”
“What good do you think that might do? He is upset.”
“But—”
“However, Vucub-Kamé did say he’d be willing to listen to your side of the story.”
Someone came out of the store and elbowed Martín away. He frowned, and would have barked a nasty word or two at the fool who dared to push him like that, but there was no chance of it. Blasted city with its rude citizens, Martín would swear no one could recognize him as a man of good breeding in this place, not with this smelly stew of unsuitable people.
“My side of the story?” Casiopea repeated.
“Yes. He wants to speak to you. Casiopea, you must say yes. If you decline, who knows what ruinous future awaits us. Grandfather served Vucub-Kamé, and that is how we came to be so well positioned in Uukumil. He is our protector.”
“He’s certainly never behaved like my protector,” Casiopea replied.
“Cousin, I realize we’ve done you a bad turn. But I promise you that if you talk to him, all of that will be in the past, and upon your return home, with me, you’ll have a rightful place in Uukumil, as it should have been from the beginning.”
Although not terribly imaginative, Martín did have a natural talent for pushing people’s buttons and understanding their moods. He was a manipulator at heart, and though he had a difficult time establishing true intimacy with others, he could pretend it. Therefore, he had considered what the best way to speak to his cousin might be, and he had decided he must be firm, but also promise a reward that could soften her. The lure of a social position, a place in the family, those were to him the most natural appeals. After all, he was highly aware of the pecking order and he imagined others were as well.
“I am sure Vucub-Kamé could be made to understand that we are innocent, that we have not willingly betrayed his trust. Grandfather will be very grateful if you make the Lord of Xibalba see this.”
“Hun-Kamé is the Lord of Xibalba,” she said.
“He was. Not anymore. Casiopea, you do not owe him anything, but you owe the family your loyalty. You are a Leyva,” he concluded.
The girl was stunned by the speech. He saw her shrink, her shoulders falling, her whole frame becoming smaller. Martín smelled success. Years bullying Casiopea had done the trick, made him aware of how to shove the girl around. But then she raised her head, eyes brighter than they should have been.
