On the Mexican peninsula of Yucatan, where El Castillo is, Casiopea Tun lives in her grandfather's house, more of a servant than a family member, ruminating on the stars and the curse of her being born under and especially unlucky one. Her mother had married a man of Indigenous origin, a marriage that was not approved by the family, and so when her husband died she had to come back to her father's house - disgraced, no longer his favorite. Casiopea has an especially tough time of it, having taken after her father in her looks, and being taunted for it by all her cousins., especially cousin Martin.

    The world created is rich and the words on the page paint a perfect picture of oppression and misery in your head. The year is 1927 "but it might as well be 1807" as, despite the more secular movement in Mexico, Yucatan is still in the grip of Catholic church and priests still run things. The eye every woman suspiciously, blaming each and every one for Eve's sin, waiting for a chance to pounce. Casiopea must wear a long skirt, cover her arms and wear a head scarf, lest anyone see her in an immodest edition. The rest of the world is gripped by the Jazz age (well, the large cities, at least) but in the sleepy little town in Yucatan, time seems to have stopped some hundred years ago and progress have passed them by.

    Despite her modest upbringing, Casiopea remans a dreamer, reads poetry when she can, learns the names of stars and constellation in stolen moments of solitude, and dreams of a life away from the village when she inherits the modest sum of money her grandfather Cirilo promised to leave her upon his death. During the day she's trying to please her impossible grandfather, a mercurial and cruel man, while trying to navigate the traps set by Martin who behaves as if being a man made him inherently better, automatically worthy of respect and thus Casiopea's superior in every way. Her unwillingness to submit to him, her fearlessness, the defiance in her eyes and the steel in her voice when she talks to him chafe him greatly and he cannot understand her, thus aiming to crush her.

    After one such encounter with her insufferable cousin, Casiopea is left home alone to mend shirts, while the rest of the family goes on a day trip. In a rage and of a mind to set herself free, she opens the chest at the bottom of her grandfather's bed - a chest that has expressly been forbidden to be touched, let alone opened. Hoping to find gold in it, something she can take from her cruel relation and run, she instead comes across human bones and the disappointment only fuels her anger. Must everything go wrong for her?

    And then, as if in a dream - the bones are gone and a naked, very handsome, man is standing in front of her. Through a haze, Casiopea hears him tell her his tale of woe - he's Hun-Kame, the god of Death, and has been imprisoned here for half a century, following the betrayal of his brother, Vukub-Kame, helped by her grandfather (that's how he came by his riches). Due to a glitch that had her bound to him, he ceremoniously bestows upon her the honor of being his servant and following him on a quest to recover some body parts he's missing. (They're all perfectly innocent, I promise.)

    What follows is an adventure Casiopea has been longing for, a trip away from her sleepy, backwards little town, a taste of life, of freedom. She travels by train and by a boat, sees towns and cities across Mexico, tries different foods, sleeps in luxurious hotels, cuts her hair in a short bob, wears modern clothes... It's like her dreams have knocked on the door and told her they are waiting...

    But something bad is lurking in the shadows as well. The link to the god of Death is keeping him alive but draining her of life essence. He must find all the missing pieces and complete himself in order to ascent the throne of Xibalba again, but his clever brother Vukub-Kame, has many traps set up - and Casiopea must give and give of herself to surmount them. The two are on the same path - to claim the person they truly are, but also on opposite journeys - he aims to collect the missing pieces of himself while she keeps giving them away.

    I adored the lush descriptions of the surroundings, of the people and the way of life. I could see it all in my mind's eye and it was beautiful. The main characters weren't flawless and that was great - although it took some getting used to. I'd scream at Casiopea when she did something I knew would lead to danger, but then I just reminded myself that she's an eighteen-year-old, and wouldn't I , almost a decade older, react the same way to all this divine nonsense? So, yes, the heroine is perfectly human and her strength is even more impressive given that.

    Taught by a life of misery at her grandfather's house, Casiopea refuses to hurt anyone, to be manipulative or cruel, even to people one would argue deserve it. She remains nice and understanding, she grows in confidence but not so much to appoint herself the superior power and feel the right to rule over someone's life. What is most admirable bout her, through all the trial and tribulations she remains the same in her core and defends herself to Hun-Kame with the words: "And life may not be fair, but I must be fair." And she does remain true to her principles, to the very end.