The Garden of Splinters

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Xiomara had never seen one up close before this week, and now they had two on every corner of the Zocalo. Terrifying machines they were, matte black, hulking, ruining the plaza’s marvellous cobbled streets with their massive tracks.

The Conference had stationed the ugly things around the Zocalo for peacekeeping, ahead of the great Return. She shuddered to think about either, but she’d learned about riots and disturbances that plagued other places around the last Return, so she understood the precaution. She walked past the nearest dragon, afraid to stare but unable to look away. The crew paid her no mind.

And about the Return itself…

Xiomara spotted the tip of the stone and rose-marble temple across the Zocalo, beyond a sea of encampments. People had claimed their spot months ago, against the wrath – and later, despair – of the Conference.

“Who could blame them?” said a young man next to her, voicing her own thoughts. “The Starless Night comes only once every 500 years; nobody wants to miss it!”

Truly, Xiomara had never imagined so many people crammed into one city. It took her the better part of two days to work her way to that place, through the maze of floating garden chinampas that surrounded the inner city.

With the influx of people from all around the region it was impossible to catch even a raft, and most chinampas weren’t connected by bridges. It might be another couple of hours to reach the temple outskirts, but she hadn’t decided yet if she needed to make it all the way there.

“I’m not here for him,” she said at last, turning her lapis lazuli necklace between her fingers.

The young man looked stunned. “You’re not here for the return of the god of renewal? The one god that’s ever talked to people? Nonsense! What else can you possibly be here for?”

Xiomara put the necklace away under her blouse and scanned the youth toe to brow, trying to spot signs of zealotry or heresy, ready to run to the dragon crew for help at the first sign of either. To her relief she found neither.

Still, she had the sense to say nothing. In the short time she stood there they’d been surrounded by ever more bodies, until she was shoulder to shoulder with him on one side and against a living wall of strangers everywhere else. And it was still two days to go before the Return.

“Fine,” said the young man, “in that case you won’t be interested to know I’ve got a spot, right by the corner of the temple. I was just making my way back there.”

Xiomara grabbed him by the hand and yanked him forward. “Lets go! What are we waiting for?”

They sorted an obstacle course of sleeping bodies, vendors, wandering pilgrims, and makeshift shelters before they reached his tent. In that time and in spite of his efforts, he only managed to give her his name – Tonatiuh. He seemed like a nice person, but Xiomara had only one thing on her mind.

Tonatiuh showed her his handiwork with a swell of pride. He had erected the tent with a street lamp for central pole; looked large enough for two people, and better put together than most of its neighbours. The tall man standing watch at the entrance nodded at them.

“The Night shelter you, Cozcatl,” said Tonatiuh, slapping the man’s shoulder, “thank you for keeping an eye on it.”

Cozcatl returned the gesture. “Night shelter you, cousin. Did you get it?”

Tonatiuh rummaged through a satchel that Xiomara hadn’t noticed before, and produced a bundle of nopal tied with ixtle string. “No salad’s complete without them,” he said with a smile. Cozcatl took the bundle and joined a group of elders busy with food preparation in the clear between their group of tents.

“The burdened let you get away with this?”, said Xiomara looking appreciatively at the shelter. Most people barely had a sleeping sack, herself included, and the skies were getting unseasonably grey. She prayed it wouldn’t rain.

“Guards didn’t even look at us twice, they’re too busy making sure people behave. There’s a reason they call them ‘burdened’, right?”

“The favour of the seven must be upon you.”

“Isn’t this the best spot in the entire city?” said Tonatiuh. “Even if you’re not here for the great Return.”

“I’m here for my sister.”

“Oh.” Tonatiuh’s smile faltered a little. “Is she…”

“Three years ago,” said Xiomara. “Senseless accident. She crossed the street without looking and got run over.”

“I see.” Tonatiuh tested the strength of the tent’s anchors with a couple of firm jerks. Neither said anything for a while.

“I know the Starless Night is not going to bring her back,” said Xiomara finally. “That’s not what he does, I know that.

“I’ve read the transcripts, and the commentary, and the annotations to the commentary, and anything else I could find on his visitations. I know the Starless Night recycles our essence to return it to the body universal. That’s why I’m not here for him.”

Xiomara turned the lapis lazuli necklace in her hand again. She didn’t know when she’d taken it out.

Tonatiuh sat on the cobble stone floor by the tent opening, and motioned for her to do the same. Xiomara obliged and took the prickly pear he handed her. She nibbled on it, careful not to bite on the bitter seeds.

“Most people are here for the questions,” said Tonatiuh, looking around them at the encampment. “And sure, I’d love to ask him so many things. They say the Starless Night will respond. They also say that many go mad upon hearing the answers; talk about being careful what you wish for.

“Truth is, I just want to see him. I want to be there when he returns.” Tonatiuh dropped his voice and leaned closer to Xiomara. “The Starless Night is the only god we know that exists for real. I mean, yes, he talks about the other six, but they’ve never showed up, y’know what I mean?”

Xiomara looked at him mildly shocked. The thought had never occurred to her. “You really think he would make them up?”

Tonatiuh hushed her. “Not so loud, you wanna get flayed alive?” He looked around nervously, but nobody gave any indication they’d been overheard. “All I’m saying is, how do we know?”

“Is that what you’re going to ask him?”

“I hope not! I don’t know if I want to know. I want him to tell me something that I would need to know to make the world a little better.”

“Better how?”

“I don’t know, better! He’ll know; that’s why he’s god and I’m not.”

Xiomara chuckled and put down the uneaten half of her prickly pear on a handkerchief. A golden beak shot from inside the tent and snatched it away before disappearing back inside.

“Quetzalcoatl!” Tonatiuh was about to chase the bird into the tent, but Xiomara stopped him.

“It’s alright, I always struggle with the seeds anyway.”

Tonatiuh sat back down, but cast a warning look towards the inside of the tent. “So...you’re not here for the Starless Night, or to ask him to bring your sister back. Yet you’re here on the eve of his great Return; you can’t be here just to put a wreath on her urn.” He let the implicit question hang.

Xiomara rested her chin on her knees and looked at the strange black clouds overhead. “Do you remember what the Starless Night said about time?”

“It’ll get us all?”

Xiomara ignored the quip. Now she was this close, it was hard to keep it bottled up. She felt the urge to tell someone, and might as well be this chatty young man she’d never see again two days from now. “That time’s like a book.

“The entire story is in the book already: beginning, middle and end. You open it on any page and the words are there, waiting. You can read on and make a story progress, but you can always go back and re-read your favourite chapter, or read it completely out of order.”

Xiomara put the necklace away once more. “It is said that when the Starless Night comes, the book of time can be read again. I know my sister is truly gone and never coming back. But I also know she’s still here, for ever. And I want to see her again one last time.”

Tonatiuh let out a long whistle. Quetzalcoatl misinterpreted it as a call and poked its head out of the tent. It was a stonebird with golden eyes and beak, and shiny metallic blue feathers. The bird looked at him sideways, then at Xiomara, trying to work out why they’d summoned it.

“I know I can do it,” said Xiomara, “and I still have two days left to figure out the details.”

“I’ve never heard of this, how can you be so sure?”

“Because my older self told me so when I was a child.”

A deafening sound like thunderclap cut off Tonatiuh’s reply. Quetzalcoatl jumped on his shoulder, and he and Xiomara got to their feet, along with everyone around them.

“What was that?” she asked.

“A dragon opened fire behind the Zocalo!” said Cozcal next to them, “we’ve got to get the elders to shelter!”

All around them the crowd started rushing towards the temple. Xiomara watched open-mouthed as up above, among swirling black clouds, dozens of flying shapes outlined in electric dragon discharges descended towards them.

* * *

> Chapter Two