The She-Snake nodded gravely. 'We can agree on that, if nothing else. Was that the only question you had, Acatl?'
He made me feel like a child, caught in something much larger than myself – like a fish on the ground, twitching and gasping while land creatures ran effortlessly. 'Tell me about Tizoc-tzin,' I said.
He watched me, for a while. 'I could tell you many things about Tizoc. What is it you want to know, exactly?'
'I don't want to influence you.'
He laughed; a small, joyless bark. 'Believe me, nothing you say will influence me one way or the other. Am I not the supreme judge of Tenochtitlan?'
I knew that; and I also knew what Axayacatl-tzin had told me, that I could not trust him under any circumstances. But did I have any choice? My little 'trick' with the Duality, as he called it, would only hold for a time, and I wasn't sure Tizoc-tzin could do as he wanted and call an election here and now. The council had sounded much too preoccupied with their own lives, as if they already knew that whoever was elected Revered Speaker wouldn't be able to protect them. 'Tell me. Does Tizoc-tzin have the Southern Hummingbird's favour?'
The She-Snake looked at me for a while. It didn't look as though he had anticipated that particular question. 'Probably not,' he said. 'Are you wondering whether he would be able to channel Huitzilpochtli's powers into the Fifth World?'
If I went ahead, if I spoke my mind on this, then I would move from healthy scepticism into outright treason. 'Yes,' I said.
The She-Snake did not speak for a while. 'I don't know. Quenami would be better placed to answer that question than I. Tizoc is older than Axayacatl was, and he was never the greatest of warriors, or the most fervent of believers in the Southern Hummingbird's might.'
'I–' I said. I kept expecting something to happen, guards to burst out,
As if guessing my thoughts, the She-Snake smiled. 'There is only darkness to hear us, Acatl. I don't think you're worrying about the right thing here.'
'The preservation of the Fifth World?'
'Quenami is selfish and arrogant, but no fool. He wouldn't back a candidate if he didn't have some plan for making sure of his own safety. He'll know some ritual, or some other trick to make sure that the star-demons remain where they are.'
'But it's not–' It wasn't meant to go that way. He was not supposed to cheat. 'It's not a game. You can't fix the rules as you please.'
'Tizoc wants his due,' the She-Snake said. 'He's waited most of his adult life for the Tturquoise-and-Gold Crown, ever since he was passed over in favour of Axayacatl. He was promised this by his own brother.'
And he was acting like a child denied a toy. Manatzpa was right; he did not have the stature to become Revered Speaker. I took a deep breath, and spoke the greater of two treasons. 'The councilmen's deaths…'
If he had nodded, I wouldn't have believed him. But he merely looked troubled, as if I had raised a disturbing possibility he hadn't considered. 'I don't know,' he said. 'But I wouldn't be surprised.'
I couldn't trust him, I couldn't. He was a consummate actor; he was playing me for a fool.
The She-Snake must have seen some of the hesitation on my face, for he said, 'You don't believe me. I hadn't expected you to. It's one thing to know Tizoc-tzin for a conceited, self-aggrandising fool, and another to know his true nature.'
'Someone told me he wouldn't dare use magic,' I said, but I couldn't remember who had said this to me.
'Even if that were true, his allies have no such scruples. But Tizoc himself would do anything to wear the Turquoise-and-Gold crown. Anything.'
Such as summon star-demons himself, and throw the council into a panic so that he could emerge as their saviour? Surely he would not.
'I don't believe you,' I said. 'You're the only other serious candidate, with the council in disarray and Xahuia in flight. If you're so sure Tizoc-tzin is going to win, why don't you throw your support behind him?'
His lips curled up a fraction. 'A matter of principles, I guess you would say.'
I didn't believe he had any, but some scrap of self-preservation stopped the words before I could utter them. 'Then what are you doing?'
'Swaying the people that matter. Talking to you.' He appeared amused, as if at some secret joke. 'I will show you something, if you will come with me.'
'What?' I asked. 'Where?'
'I can't tell you until we are there.'
'Then why–'
'Afraid?' He raised an eyebrow again. 'Come, Acatl. I have no interest in your death.'
I didn't think he would dare, to be honest. A High Priest who vanished after visiting him… It wouldn't be in his favour, no matter how he could disguise it.
I looked at him, and saw nothing in his grey eyes. His face was relaxed and open like a spread-out codex, his skin the colour of polished copper, his traits as inhuman as those of a god. In that moment he looked like the carved images of his father Tlacaelel-tzin, the man who had taken us and turned us from a rabble of uncivilised warriors into a great civilisation.
'I know you won't trust any oath I make by the gods,' the SheSnake said. 'But if you want to send a messenger to your temple and warn them that you're going with me, please do so. I don't intend to make you disappear.'
