Mihmatini's face had whitened. I could tell she ached to fling an accusation into Acamapichtli's face. I laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezed hard. 'Don't,' I whispered. Acamapichtli would destroy her, as casually as he was destroying Neutemoc.
Acamapichtli was still going on. 'He spins a fanciful tale of Mictlan's beasts, but he's a skilful man. As for his wounds… there are many ways to wound oneself.'
Watching him, I remembered why I hated high-ranking priests: the perfidious insinuations, the sly smile on their faces as they attempted to lead you astray. Acamapichtli would do anything to enforce his power, even flout justice.
I laid a hand on one of my obsidian knives, felt the power of Mictlan pulse deep within the blade. The emptiness that filled me took away my fear; took away everything but my anger. 'Go to Moyotlan, to the Floating Gardens,' I said, softly, 'and see the three peasants with their hearts missing. Ask them if the beast was real.'
Acamapichtli wasn't about to give up so easily. 'Words,' he said. 'Easy, cheap things, Acatl.'
'No more than those you used to convict my brother,' I snapped. 'Do you want evidence? I can summon the Wind of Knives here, in this chamber, to give it to you. Will you accuse Him of being my accomplice?'
'You won't frighten me,' Acamapichtli said, his face white with anger.
'Enough,' Tizoc-tzin said. He was lounging on the dais, rubbing his fingers on Eleuia's jade pendant, an amused smile on his face. 'It's unseemly for priests to argue.'
An easy accusation: priests were supposed to be dignified at all times – a feat neither of us had mastered.
'You will go to be examined by a priest of Patecatl,' Tizoc-tzin said. 'He will ascertain the nature of your wounds. And we'll arrest the real summoner.'
'Huei wasn't the only one involved,' I said. 'She only executed orders. Someone else gave her the knowledge, and that someone else is now holding Priestess Eleuia.'
Tizoc-tzin did not move. 'Who?'
'I do not know,' I said, cautiously. Neutemoc's face had turned whiter.
'We'll interrogate the woman, Huei, and find out.'
'I'm afraid,' I said, carefully stepping away from Neutemoc, 'that this isn't going to be possible.'
Tizoc-tzin's face darkened. 'You're telling me what I can or cannot do?'
I mentally reviewed several ways of speaking the next sentence. But I could find none that would spare me Neutemoc's anger. 'She gave herself up as a sacrifice to Chalchiutlicue.'
Tizoc-tzin said nothing. His anger at being thwarted by the gods was palpable. But not so palpable as Neutemoc's towards me.
'You let her?' Neutemoc growled. 'Acatl? You let her do – this folly?'
Although it cost me much, I refrained from pointing out that Huei's little games had almost ended his life.
Tizoc-tzin watched us, again with that lightly interested expression, as if we were a spectacle to be enjoyed. 'I see,' he said, finally. 'How convenient for her. Acamapichtli!'
'Yes, my lord?' the High Priest of Tlaloc asked with false meekness.
'Chalchiutlicue is your god's wife, isn't She? I'm sure you can arrange matters.'
Acamapichtli shook his head with malicious glee. 'Alas,' he said, 'the Storm Lord and His wife are separate. I have no influence over Her.'
Tizoc-tzin snorted, sceptically. 'Attempt something, will you?' He turned to me. 'I will await the results of your examination before I rule on this case.'
I bowed, inwardly relieved that Neutemoc would have some time to calm down before we met again.
• • • •
It took time, more time than I had thought. After the priest of Patecatl was done with me, we had to wait until Tizoc-tzin's men came back with the bodies of the three dead peasants. Then the priest had to make a long, convoluted report to Tizoc-tzin.
Finally, after the priest was done, Tizoc-tzin pronounced himself satisfied. 'Your story is consistent,' he admitted. 'But still no trace of the priestess.'
Acamapichtli threw me a murderous glance from the dais. 'No, my lord,' he said.
Tizoc-tzin waved a jewelled hand. 'Free the Jaguar Knight. The charges against him are obviously unsubstantiated.'
If looks could kill, Acamapichtli's gaze would have already sent me into Mictlan. But it didn't matter. Neutemoc was free; his life was no longer in danger.
Unaware of this – or perhaps very much aware, and deriving secret amusement from it – Tizoc-tzin said to me, 'The investigation will continue. Make sure you find her.' It was half an order, half a threat. All I could do was bow down before him.
'Yes, my lord,' I said. I took my leave, pausing on my way out of the palace to thank Pinahui-tzin for his help.
The old magistrate smiled, a wholly unexpected expression that seemed to light up his face. 'Never could stand that arrogant priest,' he said. 'Good for you, knocking him down a peg, young man.'
Neutemoc didn't say a word as we exited the Imperial Palace. He kept Mihmatini between himself and me – whether consciously or not, I couldn't say. I didn't complain in any case. His clenched hands and white face were ample testimony to how much restraint he was currently exercising.
We walked back towards the Atempan calpulli and Neutemoc's house in silence. It was late afternoon, but
