I meant to get this up earlier, but 1) my school workload has been massive recently and 2) the exposition segment of this is taking longer than I thought it would. But I promise you that everything will go to hell in the next chapter. For now, enjoy these last moments of light before shit gets dark.
DISCLAIMER: If you recognize it, I don't own it.
Gabriela might have collapsed in the street and pretended to die if she thought she could get away with it. "Why do we have to carry these?" she snapped, kicking a rock as she fumbled with the parcel in her arms.
"You know why," her mother answered. The state of the curtains which Señor Alvarez had brought to her from his bookshop had been that which only her twins could aspire to inflict. Fixing them had taken her nearly three days each. It was only proper that Vicente and Gabriela should be the ones to return them, along with a good apology. "Have you thought of what you're to say to Señor Alvarez?"
The twins glanced about the street, looking for a way to slip free of the question. It was Vicente who found one. "Amiga!" he shouted, hurrying towards the two figures emerging from between two nearby houses. "Hola, Ofelia!"
The girl's face brightened considerably as she made her way through the throng of townsfolk towards him. "Hola, Vin. I thought you were still grounded."
He smiled sheepishly. "We are…"
"They're helping me run an errand," Ixa added as she approached them. "Vamos, mijo."
"Where are you going?"
"Just a delivery for Señor Alvarez."
"You can walk with us if you'd like," Manolo told them. "He asked for help sorting the new books."
A devious grin spread across Gabriela's face. "That could be our apology, Mama! Don't you think so?"
"What do you - "
"Señor would be pleased if we helped him with his work," the girl explained. "And Felia can show us what to do if we need help. Right, Vin?"
Her brother nodded eagerly at the prospect. "Si."
"It ought to be for our friends to decide," their mother answered. "Manolo?"
Manolo frowned. "I'm not sure if…" He trailed off as he noticed Ofelia, whose expression was brighter than he had seen it in quite a while. "Well, I suppose it depends on what she thinks."
The girl nodded. "You can help if you want."
"Why don't you come with us?" Manolo asked Ixa as he turned back to her. "We haven't talked much lately."
"Of course." Ixa glanced at the twins again. "As long as you're both serious about this…"
"So this is where we'll put the fun books, and this is where we'll put the boring books. And this," Gabriela said as she snatched away the Henty which her brother had been peering through, "goes in with the rest of the pig feed."
"Hey! There's nothing bad about it!" Vicente snapped, trying to steal it back.
"Then why does the boy get to marry the girl just because he saves her?"
"You just say that because…"
Their mother shot a glance at them from across the room and cleared her throat, which made them fall silent. Satisfied, she nodded to herself before resuming her conversation with Manolo.
"I'll show you where Señor likes everything," Ofelia said, trying not to roll her eyes as she sat down between the twins. "Then you'll find it a place."
The little bookshop near the docks, a recent addition to San Angel fueled by the trends which Maria had carefully set, had closed and locked its doors for the afternoon. Inside, half a dozen crates sat amidst the sparse bookshelves. Once the adults had pried off the lids, the containers' contents were handed over to the children. Ofelia did much of the work at first. Immediately she set about retrieving one book after another, deftly unwrapping each one and flipping through their pages in search of creases and tears. Vicente and Gabriela followed her lead, never as quick but soon almost as attentive. Eventually it was like a game, uncovering the mysteries of the tomes before them: their genre, who they had been written for, where they had come from. The shelves quickly began to fill up. In a chair against the wall sat Señor Alvarez, a wizened little man who jotted down notes and numbers in his ledger. Every so often his sight would fail him, and the children would have to call out the names of the books in their hands
"That should be all," he said when the last of the crates was nearly empty.
As Ofelia stood up, she happened to glance inside the crate and paused. "What about this one?"
"Qué?"
"Here." Moving aside some stray piles of straw, the girl pulled what appeared to be a small, leather-bound notebook from the bottom of the crate.
"Is there a name on it?"
"Not on the outside." She touched its surface, and the black leather cracked and crumbled beneath her fingers. A pair of similarly worn pair of straps held the book shut. Carefully untying them, Ofelia peered between the covers. The smell of ancient paper filled the air as the brittle, yellowed pages saw the light. Fields of scribbled words in faded ink covered them, nearly indecipherable. It was her language, she could make that out well enough. But not the kind she knew, not quite.
Señor Alvarez flipped through his ledger. "No sign of it in here."
"Is something wrong?" Manolo asked, noticing the confusion.
"We just have this left," Ofelia replied, gesturing to the strange book, "but we don't know how it…Vin, don't!"
"It's supposed to come out, see?" he said. Vicente was tugging at a scrap which appeared to stick an inch above the binding of the book. He slid it out from between the pages, revealing a piece of paper folded several times over. "Someone put it in here."
"What is it?" Ofelia asked.
"One way to find out." Setting the paper on the floor, Vicente began to unfold his find. The girls watched over his shoulders, and the adults moved closer as well.
Pushing back the creases brought forth a series of hasty drawings jumbled together: a broken tree atop a hill, a winding line that might have been a river, thick jungle overlaying the whole scene. When it was all laid out, the observers could see a tall, blocky pyramid near the upper right corner. Above that was a drawing of a full moon, and with it the only splash of color in the image - blood red.
Ixa covered her mouth in shock, and Manolo felt a chill run down his spine.
The children, on the other hand, seemed to find no true danger in the drawing. "Now we know why someone wanted to get rid of it," Gabriela said, making a face.
Ofelia looked more worried. "What should we do with these, señor?"
Senor Alvarez frowned as he looked at the book and picture. "Best you keep them safe," he answered after a moment. "Might send the farmers into another panic."
Manolo looked up. "What do you mean?"
"You haven't heard them talk?" the old man said, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "They're saying the moon's gotten more red each night."
"T-They have…?"
He nodded as though he was the authority on the subject. "You would think they would find the cats more troubling."
"What cats?"
Now the old man simply shrugged. "A whole pack tore up some field a few weeks ago. Killed a pig. Jaguars, perhaps."
Ixa's face was turning pale alongside Manolo's. "I ought to be going…"
"Actually," Manolo said, "would you mind coming back with me for a while? There's something else I'd like to talk about."