Obsidian & Blood

  Teomitl bypassed me, his macuahitl sword at the ready. He moved more slowly as the star-demon's gaze transferred to him, but his features became harsher, the whites of his eyes glazing into green. His sword came up, hundreds of obsidian shards glittering in the light, ready for a strike.

  The star-demon was faster. It sidestepped in a rattle of shells, and threw itself at me.

  I went down in a tangle of flailing limbs, fighting to regain control of my own body. Up close, it seemed almost human, its face as pale as a corpse, with the bluish tinge of death, its cheeks swollen and tinged with black spots, its eyes without corneas or pupils…

  The Wind of Knives was still down. Manatzpa was still chanting, but it did not seem to be having any effect on the star-demon. I was the only one who could save myself…

  Fighting all the while, I raised the knife, sank it into whatever I could reach. It howled, but remained upon me. I watched its hands rise as if from a great distance. The fingers curled into claws as sharp as broken obsidian, tiny stars at the joints that were also the eyes of monsters. The claws fell, and swiped across my chest, opening my flesh in a flower of pain.

  The star-demon howled, shaking its head. Through the growing haze, I saw Teomitl's face, transfigured into jade. He was going to strike again, and I couldn't remain inactive. I tried to roll over, but my chest felt as if it was splitting open. I raised my hand again, flailing, desperately trying to focus on what I needed to do. The blade of the knife quivered in a blur of black reflections as I drove it up to the hilt into the star-demon's chest.

  The blade slid into its flesh without resistance, as if there had been no substance to it at all. Something warm and pulsing fell over me, a suffocating river that smelled of cold, dry earth, nothing like blood. Every one of its eyes closed for a moment, leaving us in darkness, and then they opened again, and its claws swept down, faster than I could follow.

  Everything went dark in a burst of pain.

TEN

Aftermath

I woke up, tried shifting, and almost screamed when the pain in my chest flared again.

  'Don't move, Acatl-tzin.' Teomitl's face swam into focus, his skin dark brown again, all traces of the goddess purged from him.

  I managed to shift my gaze down to see my chest swathed in a mass of bandages. That feeling of emptiness was still there, and I wasn't sure any more whether it was the hole left by Axayacatltzin's death, or simply a remnant of the magic of Mictlan that had arced through me as I stabbed upwards.

  'If I'm still here, I imagine it's gone?'

  Teomitl nodded. 'Disappeared the moment it was stabbed. Couldn't have done it without the Wind of Knives, though.'

  The Wind. I could no longer feel Him in my mind. He had vanished at the star-demon's death.

  I lay back, and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Teomitl's face hovered between horror and fascination. 'That's what we have to deal with?'

  'A lot more of them, yes,' I said. If only Quenami had seen that, even he would have had to admit that this was a genuine threat.

  I pulled myself upwards cautiously. The surroundings were unfamiliar. Frescoes depicted the triumphant march of Huitzilpochtli across the marshes, our enemies trampled underfoot, the sorcerer Copil vanquished and his heart torn out, the founding of Tenochtitlan after two hundred years of wandering and our rise to glory. 'Where–?'

  'Manatzpa's rooms,' Teomitl said. 'A different part. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some ahuizotls to send away.' He frowned. 'The other high priests are at Tizoc-tzin's banquet. I've sent for a priest of Patecatl. He'll be here any moment.'

  Healing spells required a heavy sacrifice to obtain, their cost all but restricted their use to the Imperial Family. 'I'm not sure…'

  Teomitl's face was pale, but determined. 'You're High Priest for the Dead in Tenochtitlan, Acatl-tzin. Of course he'll come.'

  Of course. I lay back, feeling infinitely weary. 'Thank you. Just go see to those ahuizotls before the screaming starts.'

  I watched him leave and reflected that he could have sent the ahuizotls away from the room; this meant he had something else to do, something he didn't want me to be privy to. I wasn't sure I wanted to know, in my current state.

  A tinkle of bells at the entrance-curtain heralded the entrance of Manatzpa, who was carrying a tray with two bowls of warm chocolate. His own wounds were bandaged, but he walked very carefully, as if the least sudden movement would take him apart.

  'I thought you worse off.' I managed to pull myself up into a sitting position, wedged against the wall.

  He didn't smile. 'We both have looked better.' He set the tray between us, and sat down facing me. 'But, no, it just knocked me out.' His lips curled upwards. 'A good thing your student is strong.'

  There was an expression in his eyes I couldn't quite read; as if he had some strong feeling that he was trying to hide from me, either hatred or fear or… 'He's your candidate, isn't he?'

  Manatzpa looked away. 'He's young.' His voice was toneless. 'A minor, inexperienced member of the Imperial family, with only one prisoner to his name, and a reputation as an uncontrollable element dabbling in sorcery. And he won't have a chance to improve it before the coronation war.'

  'So you won't vote?'

  'You already know what I think of the other candidates.' Somehow my questioning appeared to have put him off. He pushed a bowl towards me. The bitter smell of cacao, mingled with that of spices and vanilla, wafted up to my nostrils, tantalising.

  'And you know…'

  He made a quick, stabbing gesture with his hand, and grimaced as he was reminded of his wounds. 'I know, Acatl-tzin, I know. But, as I said before, I'd rather have a good leader than the first that came to mind.'

  'Even after seeing this?'

  For a moment, anger stole across his stately features. 'I won't forget what happened to Echichilli, or leave