"Right after that, we didn't see La Noche or Metu for quite a while." Xibalba leaned back against a column, arms crossed. "And to be honest, it kind of scared us; especially La Muerte."

The kids looked up at the god, eyes wide. "Woah," Julio gasped. "That's crazy – how La Noche just suddenly snapped like that."

Xibalba stared down at the boy for a moment before shrugging. "Yeah – being with Metu didn't have a good influence on her…" A sigh.

"Well… She loved him, right?" The group looked towards Dennis; the only one who had been silent and partly unamused the whole time. "Maybe she was doing that for him. People do anything for the ones they love."

Everyone was silent – Dennis popped a bubble and leaned back slightly, waiting for someone to speak up.

"I… I guess you're right," Xibalba muttered. "I didn't think of it that way – but yeah. Nice one kid." He turned back to the page, pausing.

"Now, I'm sure you all have been wondering where Manolo, Maria, and Joaquin come into all of this," he muttered, glancing back at them. They all nodded.

"Well – that encounter with La Muerte and her sister occurred only a few months before the bet on the trio." He turned the page and prepared to continue.

"We're going to skip forward two years after Manolo and Maria got married – that's where our story continues." Another glance at the kids to make sure all was okay, and then he moved on. "The pair was expecting a new visitor – and sadly, their town would be getting a second visitor very soon…"


Another few years passed by in peace; it was nice to have a break from all the stress and strange occurrences – but that sudden peace was quite unsettling.

La Muerte continued to check the town of San Angel to make sure nothing was out of place. Xibalba would have other gods go and check in on Metu's cell to make sure he was still locked up.

The pair took any and all precautions they could – for their safety, and for their realms'.

But on this day – just a few days before the Day of the Dead, everything was oddly quiet in the Land Of The Remembered and the Land Of The Forgotten.

The air had grown quite chilly; spirits seemed to be out of their element, like something was wrong. They felt like a storm was on the rise – their spines tingled as what felt like crackling lighting rippled through their atmosphere.

Something was brewing, and that made them confused. They thought it was just a shift in their rulers' behavior, but it seemed to be much more than that.

Both La Muerte and Xibalba felt the shift – it made them even more worried than before.

La Muerte sat in the sitting room of her castle. She was curled up was a thick book in her hands; dainty fingers leafed through the pages as she enjoyed a calm evening of reading.

Xibalba was out for the day. He was doing some daily routines and check-ups, and La Muerte knew he wouldn't be coming home until late. So, what better to do than pick at a loaf of pan de muerto, read a good book, and sip at a glass of smooth, red wine…?

She was popping a piece of bread into her mouth when she heard the castle doors open. She looked out onto the balcony – the sun wasn't fully down yet. "Xibalba?," she called, eyes flickering back to look at the page of her book. "You're home early…"

No answer.

Golden eyes blinked and glanced up to look at the closed door. "Xibalba?" Yet again, no answer. The goddess rolled her eyes and folded her page, closing the book and lying it down on the table next to her.

"This isn't funny," she called out, bare feet hitting the wooden floors as she stood up. Wine glass in hand, she walked towards the door, drawing her long, red robe tighter around herself as she opened it.

La Muerte walked out onto the carpeted stairs – there didn't seem to be anyone in the main room. "Seriously," she said. "If you're trying to scare me, it's not going to work." She took a long sip from the glass in her hand.

Silence greeted her for the third time. A growl rose in her throat – she told him not to play games like this with her. It made her uneasy. She walked down the stairs, and leaned on the bottom railing.

"Xibalba!," she growled. "This has gone too far – get out here already." Something moved out of the corner of her eye, and she quickly whirled around to face a glowing red figure.

She gasped. The glass slid from her grasp and fell to the floor, shattering as she quickly stepped back. "W-what are you – how did you get in here?," she asked, voice filled with fear.

A figure made of pure lava and stone stood in the room – face familiar and eyes cold. "I have my ways," the man snickered, gesturing his head to a puddle of shadows in the corner of the room.

La Noche appeared from it, a sad smile on her face. "Sorry hermana," she murmured. "It had to be done."

La Muerte's gaze turned back to the figure; her body was shaking now. "I've come to get my revenge," he hissed, sliding forward towards her. "And, to fulfill my part of the bet."

A gloved hand came up to wrap around the goddess' neck – he easily pushed her up against the wall. Her feet were off of the ground, and she struggled for breath.

"You'll pay for this," she muttered, voice coming out in a strangled gasp as she clawed at his hand. The god snickered.

"Oh yes," he laughed. "I'm so very scared…" His grip tightened, and he leaned forward. "Say my name," he whispered, breath smelling of pepper and ash.

La Muerte shook her head, and the god shook his head in disappointment. "Please Muertita," he murmured, icy gaze meeting her now burning one.

"Metu…," she spat, struggling against his grip. The god sighed, eyes closing in bliss. "Ah… yes… that name. That name that reminds me so much of how weak I used to be."

He let go of her, causing her to collapse to the floor. She coughed, throat burning as she caught her breath. "You're like the devil," she hissed, backing away from him. "Pure evil…"

Metu and La Noche laughed. "Oh – but I am the devil," he laughed, blinking down at her. "That's why I expect you to call me by my true name…"

La Muerte's eyes grew wide, and she looked up at him in shock. "You can't possibly mean…" But all the god did was smirk.

"That's right my dear," he smiled. "I am El Chamuco – bow down to me, your rightful ruler…" The room grew eerily silent, and the goddess shook her head.

"Never," she growled. "You're no ruler." El Chamuco's smile quickly disappeared, but all he did was shrug.

"Alright then," he muttered, backing away. His gaze wandered around the room for a moment before settling back on her. "I heard you calling out for my brother – he's not here, is he?"

La Muerte shook her head, and El Chamuco clicked his tongue. "Aw… what a shame. I just wanted him to know that his beloved little hope was going to die soon…" A sigh. "Oh well – tell him I say hello, and that I'm excited to see him again…"

The god quickly disappeared in a flash of light – La Noche in hot pursuit. La Muerte sat there on the cold floor, trying to process what had happened. Hope? What on earth did that mean?

A creak – she jumped violently and shrank back against the wall as the castle doors slid open again. "Mi amor – I'm home!," a god called. Xibalba slithered over the threshold, wings spread slightly. "Where are you my - "

His gaze rested on his wife, and he couldn't help but gasp at the sight of her lying on the floor. "La Muerte," he gasped, hurrying over to her and helping her stand. "My love; what happened to you?"

La Muerte met her husband's gaze – the red, passionate look she loved so much. Tears quickly filled her eyes at the worry on his expression, and she began to sob in his arms.

"El Chamuco came with La Noche – he pinned me up against the wall. I didn't know what to do." The goddess choked out a sob. "I was so scared Xibalba…"

The tar god just stood there in slight shock, as if trying to understand her words. "Who's El Chamuco?," he asked, tilting her head up and wiping the tears from her eyes. His voice was calm – he had to calm her down.

Their gaze met once more, and La Muerte whispered his brother's name under her breath. His expression instantly grew grave. So Metu was finally out… He knew this day would come eventually.

"What else did he say?," Xibalba asked, waiting as his wife hiccupped and breathed heavily – she was towards the end of crying.

"He said… he said something about your beloved little hope dying…" She shook her head in confusion. "I had no idea what he meant, it was all so sudden…"

Xibalba felt as if he had been shot. He stumbled back, away from La Muerte, pain etched on his face. "Hope?," he echoed. "He said my hope would die?" He couldn't believe it. No… not her…

La Muerte was trying to catch his attention. "Yeah – do you know what he means?," she asked. Her heartbeat quickened as he nodded.

"My hope is a person," he whispered. "Someone I haven't seen in a long, long time…" A small, sad smile. "I didn't even know she was still alive…"

The goddess' brows furrowed. "Who?" She then pouted as Xibalba immediately shut her down. "Not important right now," he whispered, voice sounding breathless. "I just… she used to be a goddess," he murmured. His gaze finally moved to meet La Muerte's, and he sighed.

"We have to begin searching," he muttered. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but it had to be done. "I must find her."


"Really Manolo – it's no big deal. I probably just got morning sickness again."

Maria struggled to break free of Manolo's grip – his hand was clamped tightly around her wrist as he dragged her down the street.

"Seriously! It's no big deal! Please… let go." Manolo glanced back to meet his wife's gaze for a moment; those doe brown eyes were so hard to resist…

"No," he replied, turning away and continuing to stride forward. "You can't change my mind Maria. We're almost there anyway."

The woman in tow groaned, looking quite cross, but decided it be best if she stayed quiet. She'd let Manolo worry. She knew nothing was wrong.

A few moments later, and the pair had reached a small house – it lay just on the outskirts of town, near the cemetery, and looked quite beautiful with its rustic tiling and bright walls.

Manolo's hand rested on the doorknob, and he pushed the door open, finally releasing his grip on Maria. "Hello?," he called. Maria looked around the colorful space in uncertainty.

A warm voice came from the other room. "Come on in! I'll be out in just a moment. Make yourselves comfortable - "

The two stepped over the threshold at the warm welcome. Maria decided to just stand off to the side. Manolo on the other hand, sat down in the nearest chair.

A tall woman soon came into the room. She was just a little bit taller than Manolo, and had soft, dark olive skin. A large mass of black curls was pulled back into a bun, yet a few stray strands hung around her face. She had warm, golden eyes and a dazzling smile.

Her long black skirt moved fluidly as she walked – bare feet peeked out from underneath. She untied the large apron she wore, revealing a plain white shirt – its sleeves were rolled up to her elbows.

"Sorry," she chuckled, tucking the apron under her arm and brushing dome dust off of her skirt. "I was mixing some herbs for another patient; how may I help you today?"

Maria looked at the woman skeptically – then back at Manolo. She wanted to tell him she was fine, and that she didn't need the town's healer to assess her.

Noticing the awkward looks shared between the two, the healer gasped. "Ah! Sorry! Where are my manners?" She bowed slightly, golden eyes sparkling. "I'm Cora. It's a pleasure to finally meet you Maria – and a pleasure to see you again Manolo."

Manolo chuckled and shook his head in amusement. "Yeah; it's good to see you too senora… But I'm not here for a bull fighting injury this time." His head nodded, gesturing over to Maria. She sighed.

"I was sick all this morning – I told him it was because of morning sickness, and that sometime sit can get violent. I feel fine now, honest."

Cora's eyes skimmed over Maria for a moment before laying a hand on her shoulder. "You look fine to me, but there's only one way to make sure." She opened a door to her left and gestured to it.

"I'll just give you a small examination. It won't take very long," she said. She shot a small smile towards the hesitant Maria, and followed in pursuit as she began to walk through the doorway.

Manolo just sat there awkwardly, only to jump slightly as the healer peeked out at him. "The kitchen is over there," she said, pointing to another room. "You can take anything you want if you're thirsty or hungry."

Manolo nodded at her, and began to take that offer into account once the healer disappeared.

"So – is there anything you want to tell me before I begin asking you all my questions?," Cora asked, reaching into a drawer to pull out a few instruments. She glanced back to see Maria shake her head, and the healer sighed.

"Alright then." She picked up Maria's wrist and thumbed her vein – she was feeling for a pulse. "Geez, men… Am I right? They just worry over their pregnant wives all the time, don't they?," she murmured, causing Maria to tense up.

"Yeah." Her gaze met Cora's for a split second – the healer was trying her best not to laugh – her eyes were bright. Maria sighed. "I mean – I know that I'm very close to term, but I thought the morning sickness was finally over…"

A chuckle left Cora's lips, and she let go of Maria's wrist to jot something down on a piece of paper. "You don't mind if I touch your stomach, do I?" Maria's brows furrowed in confusion. A small, hesitant nod, and Cora placed her hands on the woman's stomach.

A few presses here and there – soft touches – as if feeling for something else… "Have you been eating alright?," she asked. Maria nodded. "What about fatigue? Do you get tired easily?" Another nod.

The questions went on as well as the examination – it had only been a few minutes before Cora stepped back.

"You were determined pregnant in another town, no?" Maria nodded. Cora jotted down a few quick notes before continuing. That was why she hadn't met her yet…

A few moments of silence as Cora's eyes skimmed over her notes. She shrugged, and looked up at Maria with a small smile. "I don't think anything is wrong," she chuckled. "Manolo's overreacting, just like you said."

A sigh from the pregnant woman's lips. "Great," she smirked. "We'll have to go tell him – he certainly won't be pleased."

And with that – Maria bid the healer goodbye and exited the room. A worried Manolo rushed up to her side, and she laughed as she told him his suspicions were wrong.

As Cora put her tools away, she couldn't help but smile as the now bickering couple left the house. It was always so fun to help the people of San Angel – her job was her life – she couldn't imagine anything but being a healer.

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something moving. The woman whirled around to see nothing but a shadow on the wall – just the sun reflecting against something in the room. She shrugged, and turned back to her work.

She could have sworn she felt a strange presence in the room – but yet again, she was mixing those heavily scented herbs all morning long…