Obsidian & Blood

protector. 'Yes,' I said.

  It was getting worse. The boundaries between the worlds were slowly and irretrievably caving in. 'I don't suppose you had a councilman or someone important inside the House at the time?'

  'Besides myself?' Nezahual-tzin asked.

  'They didn't attack you, did they?'

  He shook his head, quick and annoyed. 'Not any more than any of the other Knights. And the answer is no. Even the Jaguar Commander was absent.'

  No, not worse. Disastrous.

  Teomitl was looking from Nezahual-tzin to me, back and forth, with growing determination on his features. 'Then my brother has to be told. A new Revered Speaker must be chosen.'

  His naivete was heartbreaking. 'Teomitl, it's not that simple…' The problem wasn't only Tizoc-tzin. We would have to convince the She-Snake, as well as every single remaining member of the council. Tizoc-tzin wasn't popular enough to force the delayed vote.

  'I don't see what's complicated. The Fifth World stands in jeopardy. Any personal interests must be set aside.'

  'If only.' Nezahual-tzin's voice was sad, much older than his years.

  Besides, even if a vote could be forced, it would take at least a day to set up, and further time to prepare the rituals of accession, time we no longer had. Star-demons on the loose, outside the palace, meant a greater threat than ever before. They had come not because they had been summoned, not because they had someone to kill, but of their own volition; for their own amusement.

  Which meant the path to the Fifth World was wide enough to let them pass; and that we would see many more of them before the sun set.

  'It's not a matter of days,' I said. 'Or even of hours. We have to do something, and we have to do it now.'

  'I imagine you know what?' Nezahual-tzin asked.

  'Of course he knows,' Teomitl snapped.

  How I wished I did. Doing something. Doing… I racked my brains for an answer. My protector Lord Death had made it abundantly clear that He would not interfere in the affairs of humans. The Fifth Sun and the Southern Hummingbird had already demonstrated how weak they were. I held neither the favour of Tlaloc the Storm Lord, nor or his wife Chalchiuhtlicue, Jade Skirt, and I did not trust those two more than I had to. The Smoking Mirror, god of Fate and War, was to become the Sixth Sun, and could not be relied on, not to mention that he had tried to topple the Fifth Sun more times than I could count. Among the powerful gods, it left only the Feathered Serpent, to whom I did not have any particular ties. Perhaps Nezahual-tzin, who stood under the shadow of Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent…

  On the other hand, I didn't see why I'd trust the boy just yet, with something that important. And yet…

  I closed my eyes. The Duality was the source and arbiter of all the gods; our protector, the keeper of the souls that would be reborn under the Sixth Sun. Ceyaxochitl had been Their agent, and no new one would be invested for a while, not until the rituals for her succession could be completed; but it didn't mean They had withdrawn from us. Their wards around the palace, flimsy as they were, were probably our last possible defence.

  But there had to be a way…

  I was a priest for the Dead, and I did not know much of Duality lore.

  But I knew someone who did.

'You cannot be serious.' Yaotl's lips had thinned to a harsh line, the same colour as heart's blood.

  'Do you see a better plan?' I asked.

  We had left the boy-emperor of Texcoco to make his own way into the palace, no doubt clamouring for an absent Tizoc-tzin. He had looked at me thoughtfully as he left, a gaze that promised something I couldn't quite interpret: another meeting, or a challenge? He had more depths than I could probe currently, and since his protector god was not involved in the ongoing troubles, I was going to leave him well alone for now.

  But I had little doubt we would meet again.

  We had made our way into the Duality House, where we had found Yaotl having his noon meal. He had invited us to join him, though he surely had to be changing his mind, now that he knew what we were asking for.

  Yaotl shook his head. 'No. But it's not–'

  'Ideal? I think we're well past that stage.'

  Yaotl sighed. 'Fine. I already have all the priests I can spare warding the major temples of the Sacred Precinct. But it's not going to be enough.'

  'Then what would be?' I asked. 'A new Guardian?'

  'You don't become Guardian that easily.' Yaotl's voice was grave, measured, carefully counting words, not focusing on their meaning. 'The rituals of the investiture take time.'

  In other words, what I had known all along: it would be too late by the time the Duality could intervene. 'There has to be a way we can get more than wards,' I said. 'Their equivalent of living blood.' For any other god, it would have taken a human sacrifice: a removal of a heart, a drowning, a stabbing, the offering of a whole life and vessels brimming with blood. After all, the gods were dead, Their blood drained to feed the sun at the beginning of this age, Their own hearts long since torn out and burnt in honour of Tonatiuh the Fifth Sun. Only through living blood could They exercise Their power.

  Yaotl grimaced. His eyes, wandering, fell on Teomitl; he stopped then, stared at the fresco behind Teomitl, which depicted the Fifth Sun rising from His pyre. 'Wait here,' he said, and was out of the room before either of us could stop him.