Ada (Mediopollito/Half-Chicken, 1995, etc.) elongates a Mexican folktale about a tenacious lizard who won't stop looking for the sun when it disappears; DÃŠvalos creates a series of half-lit, blue-toned spreads that evoke the world of the Aztec empire. A first-person introduction explains natural absences of the sun (behind the clouds, etc.), and prepares readers for a time, long ago, when the sun disappeared for no reason. Animals and birds search for it, and fail; only the lizard continues, finding a strangely glowing rock and rushing off to the city to tell the emperor. He tells her to move the rock, which she attempts, but the rock won't budge--once more, she's off to the city. The emperor comes to the rock with a woodpecker, and its beak splits the rock open, revealing a sleeping sun, who drowsily agrees to return to the sky if the emperor will provide the liveliest musicians and dancers. So the entertainment is arranged, and all ends well, with the inauguration of an annual feast. English and Spanish texts appear on each spread of this pleasant tale, diluted only by the several journeys of the lizard between rock and city, and the sun's prolonged resistance to waking up.