In the centre of the room stood Neutemoc, his shoulders sagging, deep circles under his eyes. Two Imperial guards flanked him, though there was no need: he would never seek to escape.
On the dais facing him were three people, easily recognisable. On the left was the old High Priest of Huitzilpochtli, Ocelocueitl, wearing a luxurious feathered headdress, and with huge plumes hanging from his belt, spreading like the wings of a hummingbird. On the right, Acamapichtli, High Priest of Tlaloc, with a crown of heron feathers, the area around his eyes blackened to give an unsettling impression. And, in the centre, sat Tizoc-tzin, Master of the House of Darts, brother of Revered Speaker Axayacatl-tzin: a man in his mid-twenties, dressed soberly in a tunic of deep blue, and with a look of utter boredom on his sallow face.
The rest of the crowd, standing on the edges of the room, was mostly noblemen, no doubt of the Revered Speaker's close family: a dazzling array of vibrantly-coloured cloaks, and of painted faces under feather- headdresses, saturated with the magic of protective spells.
Tizoc-tzin's gaze turned to me as I entered, his face lighting up at the prospect of a distraction, in a way that was hauntingly familiar. His gaze moved from Pinahui-tzin to me. 'Well, well,' he said, in the sudden silence. 'You bring exalted company, Pinahui. Our High Priest for the Dead, no less.'
I walked to the centre of the room, close enough that I could have touched the first of Neutemoc's guards. Ignoring the shocked look that spread on my brother's face, I bowed low. 'Your Excellency.'
Tizoc-tzin made a dismissive gesture. 'Let's not stand on ceremony. I have not yet had the pleasure of your presence at court.'
I said, carefully. 'My Fire Priest represents me at the Imperial Court. I am confident that he can speak in my name and in the best interest of my order.'
I felt, suddenly, as if I stood on the edge of a chasm – a coldness creeping into my back worse than what I felt when summoning the Wind of Knives. With a word, Tizoc-tzin could send me to the farthest edges of the Mexica Empire, or elevate me to the highest echelons. He could topple our temple, or make it immensely rich.
'What an event, then, to see you here.' Tizoc-tzin's voice was still bored, but I wasn't fooled: he was toying with me, relieving his annoyance at being stuck between the two High Priests. 'To what do we owe this visit?'
Acamapichtli was the one who spoke, in a low, angry voice. 'My Lord, he's come to defend his brother the traitor.'
Neutemoc shook his head, but didn't audibly protest. He looked barely able to stand, let alone mount a coherent defence.
Anger flared within me, a sharp feeling that cut off my breath for a moment. Neutemoc and I might not be speaking to each other, but The Duality curse me if I let a worthless priest condemn him on false grounds. 'Your Excellency,' I said. 'I was in charge of the investigation.'
Acamapichtli shifted on his dais. 'No longer.' His voice was malicious.
I snapped, 'No one relieved me of my functions. And a good thing, too. Otherwise we'd still have a beast of shadows loose in Tenochtitlan.'
That got Tizoc-tzin's attention. 'A beast of Mictlan?'
'Yes.'
'I was given to understand this man's nahual had abducted Priestess Eleuia.'
I shook my head, and gestured at Mihmatini. 'It was a beast of shadows. And I can prove that Neutemoc did not summon it.'
'Lies,' Acamapichtli hissed.
Tizoc-tzin's gaze moved from him to me, and then to the old priest of Huitzilpochtli, who was blinking, still trying to understand what was going on. 'We'll listen, priest,' he said, and the hostile accent on the word 'priest' was unmistakable. Why did Tizoc-tzin hate the clergy so much?
I held out the jade pendant. 'This belonged to Priestess Eleuia.'
Tizoc-tzin reached out, cradled it in the palm of his hand. 'Jade,' he said. 'Blackened by Mictlan's touch.'
He surprised me. With his apparent hatred of priests, I had assumed he'd know little about magic. Clearly, he'd taken care to inform himself on his enemies.
'Yes,' I said. 'By a beast of shadows. I tracked it to one of Moyotlan's Floating Gardens, and killed it.'
Ocelocueitl spoke up. 'A good thing. Mictlan's intrusions are always dangerous.'
'Yes,' Tizoc-tzin said, a tad impatiently. 'I assume your wounds date from this point.'
'Not entirely,' I confessed. I feared Neutemoc's reaction, but it was necessary if I wanted to set him free. 'I accessed the beast's memories, and found out the identity of its summoner.'
For the first time, High Priest Acamapichtli looked uncertain. His gaze searched Neutemoc's face, trying to see a sorcerer in my brother's wan features. 'Well?' Acamapichtli barked. 'Out with it! Who harmed Priestess Eleuia?'
They all spoke of her, I noticed, as if she were already dead.
'Neutemoc had nothing to do with this,' I said, carefully. 'The culprit…' I closed my eyes. Neutemoc was going to kill me. 'The culprit was his wife, Huei.'
In the shocked silence that filled the room, Mihmatini's voice resonated like a trumpet calling the warriors to battle. 'I will bear witness to that. The slaves and I saw the Wind of Knives come to kill Huei for her transgression.'
Neutemoc's face had turned the colour of muddy milk. A hiss came from his mouth: my name, repeated over and over. 'Acatl… Acatl…' His hands clenched and unclenched, as if to squeeze my heart into nothingness. 'Acatl…'
'I see,' Tizoc-tzin said. His gaze was on Neutemoc, lightly interested, like a man watching dissected insects writhe. 'I see.'
'He lies,' Acamapichtli whispered. 'He wants to save his brother, whatever the cost.'
Tizoc-tzin's lips compressed into a thin line. 'Be silent,' he said to Acamapichtli, who immediately stopped speaking. 'You lied to me. You spoke of nahual magic. You said this man's culpability was beyond doubt.'
'There was nahual magic,' Acamapichtli said, softly. His eyes shone with hatred, most of it directed at me. 'He brings no solid evidence, my Lord. The testimony of his own sister and of her slaves. A jade pendant that might not even be Eleuia's – some leftover from his temple, maybe.'
