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.
THREE
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.'
