Pacific even showed up to say hi to Ren’s abuelo, who, by the way, looked too young to be someone’s grandfather. He must have had some powerful anti-wrinkle magic in him.
After dinner, Ren and I walked Pacific back to the sea.
“You’re the one who helped Ren get here,” I said.
Pacific nodded, pulling her leopard hood over her locs. “I knew you would need her. And she would need you.”
“You saw the future?” Ren asked.
“Only a glimpse,” Pacific said. “It was enough.” She wrapped a slim gold watch around Ren’s wrist. “We’re supposed to wait until the claiming ceremony to bestow our gifts, but”—she smiled—“I’m too impatient for that. This will keep the right time—the true time for you.” She dipped her toes into the sea. “You, being my daughter, might disturb the threads of time. Nothing too big, just a few lost minutes here and there.”
That’s when I remembered Ixtab’s broken watch, the stopped clock at the church, and the busted one in Cabo. And in San Miguel, Quinn had thought more time should have passed. Had that all been Ren’s doing? Then there was the waterfall in the underworld that froze for a nanosecond, and my mind skidded right into the moment we tumbled over the cliff and the world had seemed to slow.
When I mentioned all this, Pacific nodded. “And the absence seizures…” She looked at Ren. “Trances are the gateway to your godborn power.”
Ren blinked slowly, her gaze on the sand like she was taking it all in. “That’s how I always know what time it is.” She looked up at Pacific. “Can I like…” She hesitated. “Can I control time?”
“Not yet. Maybe never. But one thing is certain. You are deeply connected to time, and with training you will no doubt learn some powerful skills, but we’ll know more soon.” And with that Pacific walked into the waves and disappeared.
I guess she’d gotten used to living there after all these years.
“Now I get why I love the sky and aliens and stuff,” Ren said, still staring at the sea. “My mom’s the great sky-watcher. She taught the people how to read the stars. She said she’ll teach me, too.”
“Did she tell you if aliens are real?”
“I haven’t had a chance to ask her yet.” Ren danced excitedly. “I can’t wait to find out!”
The claiming ceremony was planned for June, a few months from now, to allow enough time to find any other godborns before the twins did. I knew Ixtab wouldn’t stop looking until she found her offspring.
I finally understood. She had told me about the godborns all those months ago because she knew I’d go looking for them—she knew I would lead her right to her daughter. Except I hadn’t done that, and now I wanted to. I wanted to help find each and every godborn still out there. It was hard to imagine what it would be like to train side by side with them, to see all their powers emerge, and to work with the gods instead of against them.
* * *
For me, the story ends here. Or at least what I would consider the “public” part. But after I finished writing, Itzamna’s paper added more sentences. It was like there was some ghost looking over my shoulder and, if I left out a detail, whish—the words appeared on the page. So annoying.
Anyhow, I’d rather the whole story, even the private stuff, come from me and not some controlling paper (it is controlling, Itzamna). So, if you’re interested, here’s how this story really ends….
POSTSCRIPT
Rosie and I took a hike that night (it felt great having Fuego again), going all the way to the beach on the east side of the island. The sky was moonless, and even the stars seemed too far away.
“You were a real champ on this quest,” I told her.
She walked slowly beside me, and at first I thought she was ignoring my comment. Then she looked at me out of the corner of her eye, snorted, and nudged me with her nose, as if to say You weren’t so bad yourself.
It was one of those moments you know you’ll never forget, all warm and fuzzy and PERSONAL. “Love you, girl.”
Rosie raised up on her hind legs and whined like a puppy. I laughed and high-fived her paw as she came down. She might never go back to being the dog I had found all those years ago, but I realized that underneath her tough hellhound exterior she was still Rosie, just as my being a godborn didn’t change who I was deep down.
I peered across the beach and saw a small beam of light.
Brooks was sitting on the sand with a flashlight. She had a book in her hands. My book.
Crap!
I was backing up, intending to leave before she saw me, when Rosie took off toward her, tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.
Brooks looked up and smiled. “Hey, girl.” She scratched Rosie’s leg. She’d already seen me by then, so I couldn’t slink back into the dark and pretend I wasn’t there.