Dance of Shadows part II
A Gods of Jade and Shadow Fanfic
Exploring the states had been incredible, but when Casiopea returned to Mexico, it felt like a breath of fresh air. Despite her understanding of all languages, it felt good to be surrounded by her mother tongue once more.
She laid back in the passenger seat, propped her feet up, and leaned her elbow out the car window.
“Must you do that?” Loray asked with a disdainful glance at her dirty shoes.
“I’m tired,” she said, closing her eyes and soaking in the warm sunlight.
“Tired,” the raven sighed in agreement.
“I’m sure you are,” Loray said. “You stayed out far too late last night, in my opinion.”
“You were the one who suggested we stay for just a few more minutes–five times.”
“Hmm.”
She lazily watched out the window until the sight of a vaguely familiar shop made her sit up straight, dropping her feet. “Are we going to Uukumil?”
Loray didn’t meet her eyes. “We’re driving past it. We won’t go in.”
Casiopea relaxed a bit, thought she sat awkwardly in her seat, playing with her hands. Occasionally she would glance out the window, wondering if she would recognize anything, then turn away before she could.
It was on one of these occasions that she caught sight of her grandfather.
She sat frozen for a second and knew that he had seen her too. His eyes widened and his face twisted in rage. She gave a sudden gasp and Loray turned.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I just . . . the man . . .”
He turned to look where she pointed. “You mean the spirit?”
A chill ran down her spine. “No, the man.”
He chuckled. “There’s no man over there. That’s a spirit. You’ll get used to telling the difference eventually.”
She said nothing more for the rest of the trip.
When they arrived at a hotel, Loray cast her a strange look, but said nothing. They carried their bags up to their rooms and she sat quietly on her bed. Loray frowned.
“I was going to go out tonight,” he said. “Do you want to come along?” She shook her head. “Then will you stay here?”
“Yes. I think I’ll try to sleep.”
He nodded and studied her. She didn’t know what he was looking for, but eventually he walked over, pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, then patted her shoulder.
He straightened up and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be back soon.”
She barely noticed when he left. She sat on her bed for a long time, then finally, unable to reach a satisfying conclusion, decided to walk instead of sleep.
There was a river across the street from the hotel, and she walked the bridge, stopping halfway to look at the stars and name every constellation she saw.
“Look at you. I thought you had finally come home, but then I find you here, staying in a hotel with a stranger and daydreaming in the street at night.”
Casiopea turned to find her grandfather standing behind her.
“You’re dead,” she said. It was a question, a need for affirmation of what she knew to be true.
He stood there in his suit, clutching his cane as he always did, but there was something different, something that made her certain. As Loray said, this was no man, but a spirit.
“Yes, I died. Are you finally happy?”
Casiopea shook her head, uncertain what to think. She had never wanted him dead, only wanted her freedom, but she couldn’t help but be a little relieved he could no longer force her to return home.
“What about my mother?” she asked.
“What about her?”
“You promised to leave her the money. Did you?”
“What do you care, you ungrateful girl? You abandoned your family to the wrath of that god, and now you accuse me of not caring for my family?”
Casiopea straightened her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “When did you act as my family? When you beat me? When you locked me up? When you lied about the money you promised us? I owe you nothing.”
He drew up and jabbed his cane at her. She didn’t step back. “You have been nothing but trouble since you arrived at my home–constantly defying my orders, opening that chest, running off, and convincing your cousin to run off too!”
She blinked. “Martín? But I thought he went home.”
“He did,” her grandfather grumbled. “Then he disappeared again a week later.”
Casiopea’s gaze drifted off toward the horizon and she wondered where her cousin was at that moment. “Good for him,” she murmured, and was surprised to find she meant it.
“And now,” her grandfather continued, “you’re here, living in a hotel with a man. You’ve been a disgrace and a burden to the family ever since your wretched father died!”
She watched him as he shouted, and a strange thing happened–she began to realize how little power he had over her. The bag of black pearls in her suitcase would let her go as far away as she wanted. She didn’t need anyone or anything, and as her grandfather waved his cane around, she knew he couldn’t touch her. She smiled and the old man stopped talking and frowned.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she said. Then she stepped past him back down the bridge and to the hotel.
She was so distracted she didn’t notice the shouting until she had almost reached the front desk.
Loray had returned and was in the middle of a very loud arguement with the hotel’s host.
“What do you mean you didn’t see her go?” he shouted.
“Loray!” Casiopea called, and he spun around, relief breaking across his face when he saw her.
“Casiopea! Where have you been?” He walked away from the counter, leaving behind a grateful host. He drew up short in front of her and folded his arms. “What were you thinking? You should have told me you were leaving!”
“I–I’m sorry. I really meant to go to sleep, but then I felt like I needed some fresh air. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“I’m not angry, I just–” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was worried. I invited you to come with me, and you are free to go whenever you like, but I need to know. I need you to tell me when you plan on running off.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
He shook his head. “Just tell me next time.”
“I will.”
“Good. Now, were you really getting some fresh air, because you were gone for a while.”
She dropped her eyes. “I was talking to the spirit we passed this afternoon.”
“A spirit? You certainly should have told me that! Spirits can be incredibly dangerous to humans as I’m sure you know–”
“It was my grandfather.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said quickly.
He took her chin in his hand and lifted her face, reading the confusion in her expression. After a moment, he sighed and took her shoulder, gesturing upstairs. “Let’s go.”
She let him lead her up, and, if she leaned on him a little more than necessary, neither of them commented.
She didn’t need anyone; she could take care of herself, and yet–it was nice to be wanted.
New York City never stopped moving, as though the entire city danced to music no one could hear. Everyone had their role, and nothing could keep them from it. No one had time to notice the woman watching the world through the restaurant window, nor the man watching her.
“There’s something I need to ask you,” Loray said finally, sitting up straighter and steepling his fingers.
“Sounds ominous,” Casiopea said as she dragged her gaze away from the bustling passers-by.
“I only wondered if–when–you planned to go on your own way?” He spoke slowly, and, had she been looking, Casiopea would have seen past his calm façade to his tapping foot and searching gaze, but instead a sharp panic pierced her at his words, drowned immediately by a cold wave of anger.
“Oh, yes, of course. I apologize for overstaying my welcome–”
“Casiopea–”
“–but I can easily leave tomorrow. I don’t have much to pack. In fact, if we leave here early enough, I could call a car and leave tonight. I feel confident I could manage that on my own, at least–”
“Cas–”
She snatched up her bag and stood up. “In fact, we should probably leave now, or I won’t be able to call a car in time.”
He shot to his feet as well. “Will you be quiet for one second?”
She obeyed with that defiant stare her grandfather and cousin had hated so much. A few people turned to glance at the couple, then turned away quickly, not wishing to be involved in a lover’s spat.
“I wasn’t telling you to leave,” Loray began.
“Of course not–” Casiopea interrupted, but stopped when he raised his hand.
“You know I’m far too blunt, and if I was, I would have been much clearer.” It felt clear enough, but she said nothing.
His tone softened. “My dear . . . it’s been ten years. I assumed at the very least you would be tired of me by now.”
Had it really been ten years? Ten years ago that she had climbed into his car, desperately hoping for some adventure? Ten years ago that they had their first of many driving lessons? Ten years ago that she had taken his hand, choosing to stay in this new life?
“Are you tired of me?” she asked.
“Far from it.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. My mother always said you could see anything I was thinking on my face. If I was tired of you, you would know.”
He laughed at that, then pulled her chair out again. She accepted it and the two fell back into silence, though this time their positions reversed, with him looking out the window while she watched him.
Ten years ago, she wouldn’t have noticed, but she knew him better now. She had been too distracted to see his nervousness, but she saw the lack. The contented smile, the arm draped over the back of the chair, and his other hand lying still on the table. She saw them and wondered and hoped.
They decided to go out dancing that night, so they went back to their rooms to change. Casiopea brushed out her hair and wondered if she should cut it again. It was too long to be fashionable, but then again, she wasn’t sure she cared.
Her eyes drifted over to the door separating her and Loray’s rooms. Hun-Kamé’s words from all those years ago echoed in her mind. Words have power.
If she didn’t say anything now, then when? In another ten years? Twenty? When she was old and grey and he the same as ever?
She set down the hairbrush and picked up her necklace before knocking on his door. At his answer, she stepped inside.
He sat in a dark upholstered chair, reading a newspaper as he waited, but he looked up when she walked in.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“Not yet.” She ran her fingers down the string of pearls. She turned around and found the mirror on the wall, using it to put on the necklace. “Why did you ask me if I was staying?” She heard him toss the paper aside, but kept her eyes on the necklace that wouldn’t clasp right.
“I wanted to know your plans.”
“I don’t believe you.” She fumbled with the end of the necklace, dropped it, and huffed. He leapt to his feet and took the necklace from her.
“Then what do you want me to say?” he asked as he slid her hair to one side. He clasped the necklace, fingers skimming over her neck, his touch as light as everything he did.
She closed her eyes. She had come this far. “That you want me to stay.” He laid his hands on her bare shoulders and she met his eyes in the mirror. “That you care for me the way I care for you.”
She turned around to face him.
“You know, words have–”
“They have power, I know,” she interrupted. “What does that mean?”
He slid his finger along her jaw, stopping under her chin and lifting her face toward his. “It means I’m afraid to tell you how much I care.”
She tilted her face up as his tilted his down and they met in the middle. The kiss was over almost as soon as it had begun. His hands slid down her arms until his fingers caught on hers, and she stepped back before sliding her hands more purposefully into his.
There were a dozen things to say, but nothing seemed quite right. After a moment, Loray spoke, with a twinkle in his eye. “Well, I suppose I’ll get your coat now.”