Obsidian & Blood (50 page)

  "You never did," Teomitl said, with some amusement.

  I threw him a warning glance. He might be making progress with the magic of living blood, but we were going to have to work on the respect side of things. "Apart from the impressive costume, you don't look very involved in the succession either."

  Teomitl didn't react to the jibe. "I'm not in a position to influence that, so I just keep my head down."

  "You're Tizoc-tzin's brother," I said. "Master of the House of Darts, if all goes his way." Though I still couldn't quite reconcile myself to the idea of Tizoc-tzin's ascension.

  "Perhaps." Teomitl fingered the jade beads around his wrist – an unusual evasion for him, who always spoke his mind without worrying about the consequences.

  Ceyaxochitl banged her cane on the ground. "Let's keep to the original subject, please."

  I winced. Our relationship had always been rocky and had not improved much in the past year. When Ceyaxochitl set about to helping you, she would do what she judged best for you, whether you agreed or not. Needless to say, I seldom shared her point of view. 

  "What more do you want?" I asked. "Someone summoned a star-demon and tore a councillor to death in a heavily warded place. I had to make sure that it didn't come from She of the Silver Bells."

  Ceyaxochitl nodded, but it took her some time. "A good idea. But still–"

  "Look," I said, determined to put an end to that particular matter. "I know it's the province of the other two high priests. Right now, they're too busy trying to influence who will become Revered Speaker, or over-confident. I'd rather do it on my own than have the star-demons loose around us. You know that we're wide open now, vulnerable to pretty much anything. People will want to take advantage of that."

  "I suppose," Ceyaxochitl said. She did not look overly happy. "Still, I have other things to do."

  As Guardian of the Mexica Empire, she was the agent of the Duality, the source and the arbiter of the gods. Her work was to protect the life of the Revered Speaker and, when that life was ended, to set wards around the Empire in order to keep the star-demons and the monsters of the underworld at bay.

  "Then, if you're busy, just leave me in peace," I said.

  "Not so fast, Acatl." She banged her cane on the ground again. "You must know where this is going."

  I raised an eyebrow. "If it's not She of the Silver Bells, then it's a sorcerer, determined to sow chaos among us. The first of many. It's not the grievances that lack." The Mexica Empire was made of subjugated populations from whom we demanded regular, sometimes exorbitant, tribute; and foreigners were many in Tenochtitlan, though most would be slaves or under some form of indenture.

  It could also be someone trying to influence the succession by other means. But still, you'd have to be mad to do it by decimating the council, not when there were so many other means of influencing it.

  "And how do you plan to find such a sorcerer?" Ceyaxochitl asked, shaking her head.

  As usual, she called my competences into question. "I am not without resources. Magic, especially magic that powerful, will leave a trail."

  "Yes, yes," Ceyaxochitl said, shaking her head as if I were still a wayward child. "You need help, Acatl."

  "I have my order."

  The corner of her lips curled up in a smile. "You do. But I was thinking of more massive resources."

  Over the course of the night, I had faced two high priests and a vice-emperor, our most powerful god, and His imprisoned sister – not to mention that my last hour of sleep had been in the evening. I didn't have the patience to play along with her games of dominance any more. "Are you offering your help?"

  "Of course. In recognition for past wrongs." She turned, and glanced through the entrance-curtain. The grey light was subtly changing colour, sunrise was not far away.

  "Past wrongs?" A year ago, Ceyaxochitl had embroiled me in yet another set of intrigues, involving one of my brothers. She had not seen fit, though, to provide me with all the information at her disposal, or with more than a token assistance. The resulting conflagration had almost levelled Tenochtitlan; it had cost the life of my sister-in-law, and had tarred my family's reputation so thoroughly we were going to require years to even start our rehabilitation. "You'll excuse me if I'm not entirely ready to believe you're offering only out of remorse."

  Her lips curled up again. "As I said before, you may not think it, but I always do things for your own good, Acatl."

  And
that
was the problem. "Of course," I said. But I could ill afford to refuse her. "What did you have in mind?"

  Ceyaxochitl had the grace not to look triumphant. "We'll keep a watch on the situation at the Imperial Court." 

  "You have information?"

  "A little," Ceyaxochitl said. "I can tell you of the factions I know at court. Tizoc-tzin, the She-Snake, several of the princes, and the other rulers of the Triple Alliance, of course."

  "Of course." Our brothers, our co-rulers in the Mexica Empire, dreaming, no doubt, of the day when they headed the Triple Alliance instead of being subservient to it. "They'll have sent runners to them."

  Teomitl looked up from his bowl of cocoa. "It was done before you arrived, Acatl-tzin."

  A blare of conch-shells and wooden drums cut us off. The Fifth Sun had risen outside. There was a pause, during which we all scratched our earlobes and spilled blood to honour His return, to pray for His continued existence and protection, even though Axayacatl-tzin's death had severed him from the Fifth World.

 

 

  When it was over, Ceyaxochitl came back to the original discussion as if nothing in particular had happened – and, for her, perhaps it was the case. The Duality had no favourites. "The other two Revered Speakers of the Triple Alliance will be here in one, two days. The other rulers might take slightly longer, but then they don't have a vote in who wears the Turquoise-and-Gold Crown."

  "But they still might be behind this, or give it their support."

  "It's still only one isolated incident," Ceyaxochitl said carefully. 

  "Yes," I said. "It might be personal. It might be isolated. But the odds are that it won't remain so for long. Other people will emulate it. The usual barriers against summonings are weak, and everyone will know that." The emptiness in the fabric of the Fifth World was still there, an itch at the back of our minds – a hole that would only be filled by a new Revered Speaker.

  Teomitl spoke in the silence with the voice of one used to command. "We must show our strength. And fast."

  I thought of She of the Silver Bells, of Her hunger, of Her rage that we still dared to be alive, to imprison Her anew with every sacrifice, every drop of blood we shed in honour of Her brother Huitzilpochtli.

  We had to show our strength, or we would be broken without recourse.

 

 

We walked out of the Duality House into a beautiful morning, the sun overhead already warming our limbs. It was the dry season, a time when we should have been preparing for war, but the death of the Revered Speaker had slightly postponed the preparations. The next war we launched would be the Coronation War, when the new ruler would prove his valour on the battlefield. 

  The Sacred Precinct, like most of its priests, awoke early. Because of Axayacatl-tzin's death, the plaza was already crowded. Novice priests scurried on errands to the marketplace. Some had already come back, carrying cages with offerings ranging from rabbits to monkeys. Nearby a fire priest and two offering priests led a chalkpainted sacrifice victim to the altar. The man walked with casual arrogance, proud of being selected for a glorious death, eager to rejoin the Fifth Sun's Heaven. 

  "I'll see you home," Teomitl said. 

  "I don't need–"

  He smiled, in familiar, dazzling arrogance. The sunlight caught the gold on his wrists and around his neck, and mingled the blinding reflections with the radiance of his magical protection. In that moment, he did indeed look imperial, as if some of his brother's glory had rubbed off on him, some radiance passed between them. "We have star-demons among us."

  "Just one so far." I hoped fervently there wouldn't be more.

  Teomitl spread his hands. "You walk like a dead soul, Acatl-tzin. If anything happened…"

  "I seem to remember you're the student, and I the teacher," I said, somewhat acidly.

  Teomitl's smile was wide and innocent. "Isn't that proper respect? Attending to your master's needs?"

  And I was the Consort of the Emperor. "Walk with me if you want. But for company, not for protection." Or, Duality forbid, for mothering me.

  "As you wish." Teomitl fell in step by my side. People turned as we passed. I was still in full regalia, and the refined costume Teomitl wore could only have come from the Court. "

  So," I asked. "How is Mihmatini?"

  Teomitl had met my younger sister a year ago, and had been immediately attracted to her, and she likewise. I had grudgingly given my approval to the relationship, suspecting all the while that it would go nowhere. An imperial prince was not free to marry as he chose. Teomitl's principal wife would likely come from one of the neighbouring cities, as a token of goodwill and good conduct. 

  But, to my surprise, it still seemed to be holding, a year on, despite Mihmatini's acid tongue and Teomitl's carefree manners. 

  However, when I asked that question, Teomitl grimaced. 

  "Trouble under Heaven?" I asked.

  He waved a hand, airily. "Nothing that need concern you, Acatltzin. Your sister is as lovely as ever."

  And she'd likely tear his head off if he attempted flattery like that. "Teomitl."

  His gaze met mine, defiant. "I will soon be Master of the House of Darts, member of the inner council. No one can tell me what to do." 

  My heart contracted. I couldn't help it. Reason told me that, of course, someone would step in, someone would want to bring the wayward prince back into the norms, but still… Still, whenever she thought of him, Mihmatini's whole demeanour would soften, and her face shine like marigolds in the gloom. Teomitl would make excuses to leave our magic lessons early, so he could casually drop by the house and see her, even if it was with a chaperone. "Someone doesn't agree," I said.

  "I could fight one man." Teomitl's voice was low, intense. "Barring a few who are much too strong. But it's bigger than that, Acatl-tzin."
  "The Court?" I asked.

  Teomitl shook his head, and wouldn't answer no matter how hard I pressed him. Finally, he changed the subject with a characteristic, airy dismissal. "Enough about me. This isn't the time. More is at stake than my pathetic little self."

  I had to admit that he was right, though I didn't like the way he was behaving. Teomitl was honest and loud, and seldom held grudges. If he was bitter, it was never for long, his natural resiliency allowing him to get past it without trouble. This time it sounded as though they had got to him, whoever "they" were.

  We'd reached my house. Unlike the residences of the other two high priests, which were within the palace, mine was a small adobe building set around an even smaller courtyard with a lone pine tree over a covered well. The only concession to my status was the two storied house. Tall houses were reserved for the nobility or the high ranks of the priesthood. 

  "I'll see you at the palace, then," I said.

  Teomitl shook his head. "I'll be outside, Acatl-tzin."

  I started to protest, but he cut me off. "I know you. You'd just sneak out in a few moments if I left. Go get some sleep." 

  "And you?"

  Teomitl eyed the exterior of the house. "It looks like a comfortable adobe wall," he said, deadpan.
  "With your finery? I'd be surprised."

  "It's just cloth and feathers," Teomitl said, with the casualness of those who had never lacked for anything in their lives. "The imperial artisans can weave them again."

  "I'm sure," I said. My bones ached, and my hands were quivering. I wasn't sure how long I could argue with him successfully, especially since, even awake and fresh, I always found myself losing. Teomitl was very persuasive, and as stubborn as a jaguar tracking prey. "Fine. I'll be kinder to your clothes than you seem to be. You might as well come inside."

• • • •

I'm not sure what Teomitl busied himself with when I was sleeping, but I woke up to find him still sitting in the courtyard, glaring at the lone pine tree as if it had personally tarnished his reputation. 

  I itched to put on something simpler, but since we were going back to the palace, I couldn't shed the regalia. I did tie the skullmask to my belt, in a prominent position that left the hollow eyes and sunken cheeks visible: it would remain visible, but not hamper me any longer.

  We went to Lord Death's temple first, where I checked with Ichtaca that things were going on as foreseen, the suspicious deaths investigated, the funeral vigils taken care of, the illegal summoners arrested and tried. I mentioned, briefly, the body of the councillor. Ichtaca frowned. "That's trouble. Do you want more people?" 

  I shook my head. Many of the priests were already at the palace, taking part in the elaborate rituals that would culminate in the Revered Speaker's funeral. "You're overstretched already. I'll take those at the palace."

  We took a brief meal in the temple with Ichtaca, maize flatbreads with spices, and a drink of maguey sap. Then Teomitl and I walked back together to the palace. I couldn't help casting a glance in the direction of the Great Temple, but the only activity going on seemed to be the usual sacrifices. The altar was slick with blood, and the body of a man was tumbling down the steps, its chest gaping open. Blood followed it, a slow, lazy trail that exuded a magic even I could feel. But I could see the other magic, the white, faint radiance trapped underneath, the anger that possessed Coyolxauhqui. She of the Silver Bells would not forgive, or forget, or relent in any way.