Obsidian & Blood

  He'd unnerved me more than he knew; or perhaps exactly as much as he'd intended to. 'I'll keep it in mind.'

  'Good. Oh, and another thing,' Nezahual-tzin said. 'You'll want to keep an eye on your student – for his sake and yours.'

  'Why?' I said, feeling lectured enough for a lifetime. 'You've in terfered quite enough in my affairs.'

  'Ah, but you didn't see.'

  'See what?'

  'The warriors.' Nezahual-tzin's voice was slow and gentle, like a mother pointing out a child's failures.

  'What about them?'

  He shook his head, almost sadly. 'One of them started to remove his sandals. He only stopped because his companion gave him a warning glance.'

  'He started to remove–' I took in a deep, shaking breath. Only in the presence of the Revered Speaker, or of his representative, did one put aside one's sandals. 'The army isn't satisfied with Tizoctzin. It's only normal they'd want to find someone else to worship – that's hardly his fault.' Even to me, the words rang as hollow as rotten wood.

  'Ah, but he didn't try very hard to stop them, either.'

  I remembered what Teomitl had said, when they'd both tried to bow down to him. Now is neither the time nor the place.

  Now, no. But later, perhaps – once Tizoc-tzin was overthrown, and Teomitl himself crowned Revered Speaker?

When I came back, I found Teomitl still sitting on his reed-matand Mihmatini gathering up Nezahual-tzin's feather headdress and cloak. 'Feeling better?' I asked.

  Teomitl grimaced. 'Not really. And you, Acatl-tzin?'

  Every muscle in my body felt stretched and pounded, like maize in the mortar, and without the cane, I wouldn't have been able to stand up. 'I've been better.' I didn't say anything about Nezahual-tzin's warning; I wasn't sure why. A desire not to worry him – or perhaps a sign that I believed Nezahual-tzin far more than I should have?

  I would watch, and wait, and the accusation would prove itself groundless, another of Nezahual-tzin's little games. Yes. It had to be. Teomitl wasn't a fool. He had to know open rebellion would throw the Mexica Empire into more disarray than it could bear.

  He had to. 'Mihmatini?' I asked.

  She paused on her way to the entrance. 'Yes?'

  'You haven't told me how it went, with the She-Snake. After the trial.'

  'Oh.' She paused. 'Nothing much. I complained and the SheSnake notified me I was acting irresponsibly. We both know who put him up to this.' She snorted. 'If you ask me, Tizoc-tzin still sees me as a young, inexperienced girl.'

  Did he? It was his loss, then. Both Teomitl and I had got over that stage long ago.

  I was watching Teomitl's face as she spoke, and saw the hands clench and the shadow of jade imprint itself over the features. 'My brother is a fool.' There was something in his voice: a harshness that hadn't been there before, as if being so close to death had stripped away the last of the pretence.

  'Teomitl,' I started, but at this moment the entrance-curtain was wrenched open – by one of Mihmatini's priests. 'My Lady Guardian…'

  'What is it?'

  'There is a delegation in the courtyard, asking to see you and the High Priest for the Dead.'

The delegation was, as I had suspected, mostly priests from my order, Ichtaca at their head. 'Acatl-tzin.' He looked relieved to see me. 'When we didn't see you come back…'

  I shook my head, obscurely ashamed. 'I haven't abandoned you. It's just been – a busy day.'

  'He almost died,' Mihmatini said, fiercely. 'What is it?'

  Ichtaca took a deep breath. 'You have to come to the palace, now.'

  My heart sank. What had happened now? 'Why?'

  It was Palli, the round-faced offering priest, who spoke up. 'The sickness is no longer contained, Acatl-tzin. It's–' he took a deep breath 'it's got into one of the palace wings. There are dozens of dead people.'

THIRTEEN

Sickness in Our Midst

The atmosphere in the palace was tense and fearful – even worse than four months before, when a star- demon had wreaked havoc in the courtyards, killing one councillor and carrying off the soul of a second. The first few courtyards we crossed seemed to be devoid of the She-Snake's black-clad guards, but as we went deeper – towards the affected wing – we saw more and more of them, and heard the growing clamour of the crowd.

  'How bad is it?' I asked Ichtaca.

  'Thirteen sick, two dead. And it's spreading.' For once, he'd agreed to walk ahead of me, casting aside the etiquette which would have seen him defer to me as his superior. And a good thing: I was still weary and slow, limping through the courtyards with the help of Ceyaxochitl's cane, and of course I only had a vague idea of where