Obsidian & Blood

forget how your priest behaved.'

  'He's not mine,' Teomitl said stiffly, and then realised what he had done – openly admitted I was not under his protection. He opened his mouth to speak again, but I shook my head to silence him. Tizoc-tzin would have attacked me, one way or another.

  'Then he can speak for himself.'

  'What do you want to hear?' I asked. I hadn't meant to be so insolent, but I couldn't quite contain myself. He was behaving like an intoxicated jaguar, clawing at everything before his eyes – his own brother, my sister… 'I can't offer anything but the truth.'

  'I've already heard your 'truth'.' Tizoc-tzin waved a pale hand. 'I have no interest in that.'

  'Then what else do you want to hear?' I wasn't quite sure I could contain myself. 'My Lord, we have star- demons waiting for a lapse on our part, ritual or not. We need a new Revered Speaker.'

  His face twisted, in what might have been pain. 'And you'll have one.'

  How had he changed, so quickly? The man who had screamed at me and accused me of nepotism had shrunk to this… this wasted thing crouching in the shadows, this living corpse whose every protestation of life rang false.

  But he still had claws. He could still see me thrown out of Court, if the fancy took him.

  He appeared to focus his attention on the ground, for the moment. 'I admit I may have erred in ignoring the star-demons. Or, at the least, being unable to foresee what kind of carnage you'd wreak in the palace during your investigation.'

  The admission of weakness was surprising; the sting in the words that followed was not. 'I've told you before,' I said, unable to contain myself. 'Someone is summoning star-demons, and they'll go on summoning them until they are stopped.'

  'Someone.' His gaze rose, transfixed me, gaunt and dark, like the depths of Mictlan itself. 'Who?'

  If only I knew. But why was he so interested, all of a sudden? I couldn't understand what had changed. 'That's why I'm investigating,' I said, cautiously. 'Your brother's wife Xahuia might have had something to do with it.'

  Or, at the very least, she would have ideas. I had little doubt she'd had spies all over the palace. But, if she was the guilty party, which sorcerer had she suborned? She needed to cast a spell within the palace where she no longer was; and her own sorcerer lay dead. I made a note to ask Palli about the women's quarters, to see if they could find anything in there that might be of use.

  'Xahuia…' Tizoc-tzin rolled the word in his mouth, as if breathing in its taste. 'She destroyed most of the women's quarters in her escape.'

  'Yes,' I said, not knowing what else to say.

  'I see.' Tizoc-tzin's voice was distant again. 'Whoever it is, they seek to undermine us, to make us as nothing. Never forget that they are dangerous, Acatl-tzin.'

  It was dishonest, it was disloyal, but I couldn't help compare this nervous man who presumed to give me curt orders as if he were Revered Speaker already to Axayacatl-tzin's graceful thanks and amused humility, his deep understanding of the rituals that had shaped his life. The Duality curse me, I just couldn't do otherwise. Manatzpa- tzin, for all his faults, had had the most accurate judgment of him, Tizoc-tzin didn't have the stature of a Revered Speaker.

  'I will not forget,' I said.

  'Good.' He nodded, as abruptly as a disjointed sacrifice. 'Sometimes, better to take them dead than to run the risk of coming to further harm.'

  Surely he was not suggesting. 'My Lord… ' We would never find out the ramifications of the summoning that way, if we killed on sight.

  'You heard what I said.' He nodded – again, that movement so abrupt it seemed barely human. 'Who else is involved?'

  My lips formed the answer though my mind was elsewhere. 'Councilman Manatzpa-tzin knew, but he is dead.'

  'How convenient.'

  No, not convenient. He had been killed for it, and so had Echichilli, because they had known something.

  I had to ask, the Storm Lord blind me. Even if he arrested me for that, I was High Priest for the Dead, and it was my duty. No, it was my duty as a mortal of the Fifth World. 'Echichilli died because of what he called duty,' I said, carefully. 'We thought that you might have an idea…' I let the sentence trail, braced myself for further abuse.

  But Tizoc-tzin merely shook his head. 'He wasn't a supporter of mine.'

  He had been a supporter of Axayacatl-tzin, though, hadn't he? Wouldn't he at least support the former Revered Speaker's choice of heir. 'He did serve your brother,' I said.

  'He never liked me.' Tizoc-tzin's voice was bitter. 'Never mind, priest. This isn't something I can help you with.'

  'And Ocome?'

  'Ocome. He was mine indeed. A poor kind of supporter, truth be told, bending to whoever shone brightest. Not a great loss.'

  I took in a deep breath, and said, 'Xahuia claimed she had turned him to her side.'

  Something flashed in his gaze, a light in the hollows – anger, rage, guilt?

  'Perhaps. I wouldn't have known.' I could have detected the lie, even in a worse state than I currently was.

  'There have been three deaths. One of the dead men had betrayed his allegiance to you,' I said. 'Another was neutral, and the third was your deadliest enemy.'

  'You accuse me?' There was something niggling at me, coiled at the back of my mind like a snake. Something obviously wrong, other than the sick fear, other than the diminishing of his whole being, But, try as I might…