Solimar, p.3
Solimar, page 3
“True…” said Solimar.
“And your father is always talking about the horses. Perhaps you heard him mention he was considering Saturno for the lead and you just didn’t remember.”
“Maybe…”
“See, that’s the case!” said María. Relieved, she laughed. “Imagine if you mentioned this to anyone else. Tongues would wag in the village. You’d be badgered and pursued. And then when people found out it was only a little commonsense clairvoyance, they’d think you irrational and foolish.”
Solimar hadn’t thought of that. Maybe it was better to keep whatever was happening a secret, even from María. She forced a smile. “You’re right. Commonsense clairvoyance. It was a silly game. I knew you’d have the answer.”
María smiled. “I better get back to the kitchen. There’s so much yet to prepare before the send-off tomorrow. And my mother is barking orders at anyone who sets foot there.” She hugged Solimar. Before she rushed away, María shook her head. “Whatever will my mother do tomorrow once the caravan has left?”
Solimar could not stop the words that tumbled out. “Meet with my mother to go over plans for my quinceañera, play cards with the kitchen staff, take a bubble bath, and go to bed early.”
But María didn’t hear. She was already gone.
Back in her bedroom, Solimar shut the balcony doors and closed the shutters. With the rebozo lying across her knees, she sipped the tea and nibbled the sandwich. “I don’t believe María’s explanation. Something happened to the rebozo in the forest, and now it imparts some mysterious intuition about the near future.” A dark thought crossed her mind. “Lázaro, what if someone asks me a question, and the answer, which I can’t seem to control, is hurtful, or sad, or foretells catastrophe?”
Lázaro hopped from his perch to the floor and tugged at one end of the fabric.
“I agree. Until I understand what has happened, I should hide it. That will solve the problem.”
Solimar buried it in the back of her closet and closed the door. “End of story,” she said, dusting off her hands. She sat at her dressing table and brushed her hair.
When she was finished, she found the rebozo lying across her bed. She shook a finger at Lázaro. “Did you retrieve it as a joke? This isn’t funny.”
Lázaro squawked in protest.
Solimar shook her head, folded the rebozo, and laid it in the bottom of a tall basket. She stuffed a blanket on top and closed the lid. “Lázaro, you need to leave it alone. Do you understand?”
He flew to her hand and attempted to cross his heart.
When she turned, she found the rebozo draped on the back of a chair.
She and Lázaro shrieked.
Lázaro spread his wings, shielding Solimar, as if the rebozo was dangerous.
“Let’s not panic,” said Solimar, taking deep breaths. “Let’s try this one more time.…”
Lázaro leaped to her shoulder.
With two fingers, she gingerly picked up the rebozo and dropped it into a dresser drawer, slamming it shut. She and Lázaro stared at the drawer, waiting. When nothing happened, Solimar slowly backed away.
She sank into the chair next to the table where María had left the sandwich and tea.
When she turned to sip her tea, the rebozo was next to her plate, folded into the shape of a swan, like a giant napkin for a fancy party. Solimar jerked back, her heart pounding. The chair teetered and began to topple.
Lázaro screeched.
But as she fell, the rebozo lassoed the back of the chair and slowly pulled it upright. Then the fabric collapsed onto the table.
Solimar and Lázaro stared at the crumpled heap.
Lázaro twittered.
“I’m not sure what happened, either,” said Solimar.
She reached toward the fabric.
A small corner of the rebozo inched forward and covered her hand.
Solimar’s brow furrowed. She didn’t feel threatened by the rebozo, but she was confused and worried. “It insists on being near me, Lázaro. But why? I can’t have it appearing everywhere I go, or I’d have to explain it. And I can’t explain it because I don’t know what magic this is!”
Lázaro made soft, sympathetic cheeps.
She strummed her fingers on the table. Who could she talk to about this? Abuela was already suspicious, and she would probably tell her mother and father. Campeón would never betray her confidence. She would ask him what to do.
“I suppose the safest thing is to keep it with me and to stay out of the sun.” She picked up the rebozo, placed it on the end of the bed, and lay down.
Lázaro nuzzled next to her.
The rebozo fluffed itself over them.
For now, in the dim room, they rested.
By the time Solimar woke, the sun had already set and she was late for dinner. She folded the rebozo so the shimmering didn’t show and draped it over her shoulders.
Downstairs, she stopped in the arched doorway of the dining room. The long, carved cherrywood table blushed beneath two enormous candelabras. Queen Rosalinda, King Sebastián, and Señor Verde, the king’s chief counsel, sat at one end, drinking coffee.
When her father saw her, he quickly stood, opening his arms. “Solimar! Finally.”
Smiling, her mother waved her forward as well. She wore a pink rebozo over a gray silk dress. In the candlelight, her dark skin glowed bronze, and her hair, twisted into an elaborate bun without a strand out of place, appeared blue-black. People said Queen Rosalinda’s elegant feathers could not be ruffled.
King Sebastián, on the other hand, always looked a little disheveled, his wavy gray hair at odds with any style, his clothes a bit wrinkled from long days in the streets, stables, and fields—where he said a king belonged, and not shut away in the castle.
“Good evening, everyone,” said Solimar.
She kissed and hugged her father and then her mother. She nodded to Señor Verde and sat down. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Mother, why didn’t you send someone to wake me?”
“Abuela said you needed to rest. We’ve finished eating, but I’ll call for a plate.”
“No, thank you. Señora Batista sent a sandwich. I’ll just have tea.” She reached for the pot and poured herself a cup.
Señor Verde laughed. “Enough said. We are familiar with the chef’s mountainous sandwiches! I have teased her time and again that I fully expect to find one of her cook’s journals between the ham and cheese.” He winked at Solimar.
Señor Verde was tall and thin with a mustache that turned up at the ends. He loved to make jokes, was nosy to a fault, and prided himself on knowing every detail of the kingdom. Behind his back, Solimar and Campeón called him the Shadow because he had the uncanny ability to suddenly appear at a person’s side without anyone ever hearing him approach. As much as they joked about him, though, they respected his loyalty. He was their father’s oldest friend and most trusted advisor.
“Where are Campeón and Abuela?” asked Solimar.
“Abuela is still preparing the medicines for the expedition,” said Queen Rosalinda.
“And Campeón was not hungry,” said Señor Verde. “He is upstairs and urgently wants to give you something. He said it’s very important.”
That was perfect. She could tell Campeón about the rebozo and ask his advice.
“I asked him what was so pressing,” continued Señor Verde. “But he would not say. Now I am curious. You know me. I love tidbits of information.” He slathered his bread with butter and continued. “I suspect Campeón is worried that come morning, with all the young women vying for his attention, he won’t have a chance to say good-bye to you, Solimar. What do you think?”
She held her breath, waiting for an answer to jump from her mouth, but it didn’t. This confirmed her idea that the magic didn’t work unless she was in sunshine. She relaxed. “I can’t imagine.”
“He admitted to me that he’s apprehensive about the expedition,” said her father. “So reassure him, Solimar.”
“Is he worried because of the tension with King Aveno?” asked Señor Verde.
Her father slapped the table. “King Ávido is more appropriate!”
“What’s made you so angry?” asked Solimar. “I thought you were neighborly with him? Now you call him King Greedy?”
King Sebastián smirked. “I have always kept my distance because we’re of different minds. I have tolerated him, nothing more. But I’ve come to understand that he’s more dictator than king. In the last year, he’s been cutting down trees on his land, stripping the hills, and selling the lumber. Now he’s trying to buy land from all the surrounding kingdoms to do more of the same. No one wants to sell, but his bullying tactics have escalated and border on threats. He is greedy!”
“He’s pressing your father to sell him a thousand acres of the oyamel forest,” said Queen Rosalinda.
Solimar gasped. “But I made a solemn promise to protect the forest!”
Puzzled, Señor Verde asked, “To whom did you promise?”
“Um…myself. I promised myself to make sure the sacred firs would be safe forever.” Solimar shuddered to think what would happen to the butterflies if there was no forest.
“Don’t worry,” said her father. “I’ve told him no. Yet I do not trust him. He says he is preparing an offer I cannot refuse.” He smirked. “I can’t imagine anything he could offer or threaten that would make me agree.”
“Maybe the alliance will be the answer,” said Señor Verde.
“Alliance?” asked Solimar.
Señor Verde put a finger to his lips and looked around to see if anyone was near.
King Sebastián leaned forward. “San Gregorio is by far the largest of the kingdoms he wishes to exploit. The others are looking to my lead. If he can bully me into selling, what chance will the smaller kingdoms have? So, on the Saturday after we arrive in Puerto Rivera, I am secretly meeting with the other rulers of the northern lands to form an alliance. If the twelve of us band together as allies, we can stand up to him as a unified group and say no, once and for all.”
He pointed at Señor Verde. “As usual in my absence, I’m counting on you, my friend.”
Señor Verde sat taller. “Of course. Juan Pedro, my new assistant, and I will oversee the day-to-day matters in the kingdom.” He nodded to Queen Rosalinda. “With your majesty’s knowledge and approval, of course.”
King Sebastián frowned. “And if King Aveno makes another offer while I am gone, no matter what it is—”
The queen interrupted. “I will tell him that your heart cannot be changed.”
“And I will repeat the same message in no uncertain terms,” said Señor Verde.
“Thank you, both. Now if you will excuse me, I need to go check on the preparations for the send-off. Solimar, my love, I will see you early in the morning.” Before leaving, he kissed Solimar on the forehead.
“May we turn our attention to more festive matters?” Señor Verde looked at the queen. “How are the preparations coming for Solimar’s quinceañera celebration?”
The queen smiled. “Next Tuesday—only a week from today—we will have the first fittings for Solimar and those wearing gowns. And the following week, the fittings for those wearing suits.”
“Who is in your honor court, again?” asked Señor Verde.
The girls and boys in Solimar’s corte de honor were her closest friends. She began to tick off fingers. “María, of course. Silvia, Estela, Irma, Belinda, Ava, Margarita, Guillermo, Mateo—Mother! You’re not crying, are you?”
“It doesn’t seem possible that in a matter of weeks you will turn fifteen and become a princess of the world, and officially princess of the kingdom of San Gregorio. It will be a great moment for all of us.” The queen wiped her eyes with her napkin.
Señor Verde did the same. “It seems like just yesterday you were a toddler running around the castle with all your little friends, making mayhem and merriment.”
Solimar rolled her eyes and quickly excused herself. But on the way out, she patted Señor Verde’s shoulder and stopped to hug her mother’s neck and kiss her cheek.
She hurried upstairs to find Campeón. She couldn’t wait to tell him about the rebozo and ask his advice. And, like Señor Verde, she was curious, too.
What did Campeón want to give her?
At the top of the grand staircase, Solimar spotted Campeón outside on the balcony overlooking the front courtyard and the fountain. Behind him, a few stars already twinkled in the night sky.
Campeón had their father’s wavy hair without the gray, and black eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. He was much taller than their father, and instead of the king’s sense of purpose, Campeón always seemed lost in his own thoughts. He spent much of his time reading, even while he strolled from one place to another, often bumping into things. As usual, his head was bent over a book.
Solimar rushed to his side. “Señor Verde said you wanted to see me. And I have something to tell you.”
“Soli,” he said, putting an arm around her. “I’m so glad you’re here. Everything will be so hectic in the morning. I want you to know…I’m going to miss you.”
She laughed. “You’ll be back before you know it. Although Father said you’re worried about the expedition and that I should reassure you.”
“I am a little nervous, but for more reasons than he knows. As usual, I am concerned about everyone getting down the mountain safely. We never know what we will find—rock slides, fallen logs, swarms of stinging flies that attack the horses and dogs. I wish there was a safer and faster route.”
“If only we could send our goods down the river,” said Solimar.
“True.” He grinned. “If it wasn’t for the treacherous rapids and the labyrinth of caves, that would be a great idea. Río Diablo has a reputation for chewing things up and spitting them out. You know what they say…”
She nodded. “Only flotsam survives the devil’s river, and those who brave the caves either turn back…”
In a low and threatening voice, Campeón said, “Or are never heard from again.”
She laughed.
“And that is why I will take a slow, tedious ride to the port on a stallion that senses I’m not a horseman and with a pack of guard dogs that ignore my commands. You know how I am around animals—inept.”
“But it must be wonderful when you get to Puerto Rivera!”
Campeón smirked. “From the moment we arrive, it’s chaotic. We pitch an encampment away from the crowds and the noise, for the animals’ sake and our own sanity. Then we head to the marketplace to set up the large tent and unpack our goods. It’s crowded and busy all day, and the night market goes until midnight. Everyone is exhausted. I have to share the royal tent with Father, who snores incessantly—all the while wishing I could sleep outside under the stars.”
“It all sounds so exciting!”
“Maybe to you. I help out where I can and follow Father around like a puppy, pretending to be interested in…kingly-ness. When the week is over, I face another slow trek back to San Gregorio.”
Solimar looped her arm through his elbow. They walked toward the end of the long balcony.
“Want to know the worst part, Soli? Once I’m home, there’s no prospect of leaving again for another year.”
“I didn’t know you were so unhappy.”
He blew out a long breath. “I want to go beyond where Río Diablo meets the ocean, sail the seven seas to ports whose names I can’t yet pronounce. I want to see other countries and hear other languages. In Puerto Rivera, there’s one long road that leads to the harbor. And every time I look down that road, I wonder what adventures await at the end of it.”
“Campeón, why have you never said anything before, especially to Father? Surely you could take a short trip—”
“I have told him many times. And I get the same reaction that you receive when suggesting that everyone in the kingdom should have a vote. He dismisses me. The monarchy is what he was born into. It is the world he loves and knows. He’s hesitant to change anything. I am the heir apparent and must ascend the throne.” He scowled. “Everyone calls me Campeón, but I’m not even the champion of my own life.” He leaned on the stone balustrade and gazed out over the courtyard, where the reflections of lantern lights danced on the water in the pool beneath the fountain.
Solimar had never heard her brother speak this way. Nor had it occurred to her that he might want a life different from the one that had been laid out for him. “Abuela said that you plan to choose someone to marry.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, and his voice tightened. “Father wanted me to choose someone before we left tomorrow, but I convinced him otherwise, again. Luckily, that will give me the time I need to…” He hung his head.
“To choose someone?” she asked.
He turned and grabbed both of her hands. “No. Soli, remember when we were younger and every night before bedtime we played a game where you would guess what my dreams would be?”
She nodded. “I always made up the same story. That you would dream you could fly like a bird.” She smiled. “As if I could tell you what to dream. What does it have to do with—”
“It’s time for me to spread my wings,” said Campeón. He leaned his head closer to hers. “You cannot speak a word of this to anyone, especially Mother and Father. Agreed?”
Solimar gulped at his serious expression but nodded.
“The last thing I want to do right now, or maybe ever, is get married.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not coming back from the expedition.”
“Don’t be silly. You must!”
“Shh.” He lowered his voice. “Please, just listen. Puerto Rivera is a port of call for the great ship La Quinta, which anchors in the harbor during El Gran Mercado. The last few years, I’ve made friends with the captain and the crew. And they’re always recruiting deckhands.”
