'Be my guest,' Mihmatini said with a touch of anger. 'He's hidden himself well.'
Leaving all of us exposed – and the Duality House to become the rallying point for the discontent. Oh, gods – when I caught the fool I was going to pinch his ribs, hard. 'I hadn't come here for Teomitl, originally.'
'He does have a way of taking over conversations even when absent,' Mihmatini said, her voice expressionless and flat – like glass, a moment before it shattered. 'What did you want?'
'Two things. The plague–'
Mihmatini snorted. 'Quenami is in charge, and making a mess out of it. Then again, he doesn't listen to half the things I'm saying.'
So – panicked, but still not smart enough to see my sister as talented. 'He's a fool.'
'I don't care.' Mihmatini's voice was grim. 'Whatever he is, he's failed at containing this. That's his biggest fault to me.'
'It's bad, isn't it?' I asked, cautiously – though I already knew the answer.
'As bad as it can get. Yaotl probably told you it's starting to spread within Tenochtitlan.'
The last thing we needed. 'Yes.' I said, carefully, 'Some of my priests might come by, later. We have an idea for a cure.'
Mihmatini's gaze snapped up sharply.
'I don't want to give you false hope,' I said. 'It's quite possible it won't work at all.'
'It's still going to be better than whatever Quenami's come up with,' Mihmatini snorted. 'And what was the second thing you came for?'
It took me a moment to remember what she was talking about. 'Oh. Xiloxoch.'
'The courtesan?' Mihmatini gave it some thought.
'Teomitl said he was going to arrest her, remember?'
'I do.' Mihmatini puffed her cheeks, thinking. 'I haven't heard any news – wait.' She rose, and pulled the entrance-curtain to her chambers open. 'Yaotl!'
'Mistress?' Yaotl came in wearing his palace vestment – an elegant, richly embroidered cloak – and streaks of blue and black across his cheeks.
'Acatl wants to know what we have on Xiloxoch.'
Yaotl looked startled. 'Nothing that I know of.' He thought, for a while. 'She did make an accusation against Eptli.'
'When?' I asked. I hadn't thought she'd had time to see the judges before Tizoc-tzin worked himself into a rage over the clergy of Tlaloc.
'Before the clergy of Tlaloc was hauled in. For all the good it did her… It was dismissed summarily, like all the cases that didn't concern Acamapichtli's clergy.'
Mihmatini shook her head. 'She's a wily one. Nezahual-tzin probably neglected to tell you she's been serving her goddess well.'
Not surprising, though it was heartening to have a confirmation my suspicions were headed somewhere. 'I presume she's been keeping an eye the interests of Xochiquetzal while the Quetzal Flower is in exile from Tenochtitlan.'
'That's what my priests have confirmed, yes,' Mihmatini said. The Duality House was also the centre of a network of spies and magicians, whose only goal was to safeguard the balance. Her predecessor, Ceyaxochitl, had used this to terrific effect. Clearly, Mihmatini was learning fast.
'And this means?'
'Now? Nothing much,' Mihmatini said. 'It looks as though she's just watching and waiting.'
'But you don't think she's involved in the plague.'
'I haven't said that.'
'I see.' I thought of the snapped quill again. I couldn't see why Xochiquetzal would ally Herself with Chalchiutlicue, but the evidence spoke against Xiloxoch. 'I need to find her.'
Yaotl shrugged. 'Try the palace. She'll be there – too canny not to be.'
'Where is she?'
'I don't know. I'd try the palace, if I were you. If she wants to keep an eye on the Flower Quetzal's interests, she'll have to be at the heart of things.'
Not the first place I wanted to come back to, especially with the plague raging within its walls. But still… I didn't have much choice.
Ezamahual didn't leave my side as we walked out of the Duality House. I leant on the cane, grateful for its support – but the Southern Hummingbird strike me if I was going to accept help from one of my priests.
'I'm going inside the palace,' I said to Ezamahual. 'You might want to leave.'
He looked at me as if I were mad. 'It's not a safe place,' I explained, feeling increasingly flustered.
His look was the patient one of a mother towards a wayward child. 'You're High Priest, Acatl-tzin. I wouldn't dream of leaving you alone.'
Great, so much for that.
I half-expected the guards to challenge us as we climbed the stairs towards the entrance, but they seemed more bored than busy, leaning on their obsidian-tipped spears while gazing at the sky, looking through us, half- expecting us to provide some distraction. But we both looked like ordinary priests for the Dead, on errands that could only be menial – nothing worth salvaging from that, no fun or currency to be had.
