Save for Acamapichtli. But the High Priest of Tlaloc wasn't a fool. He'd wait until Tizoc-tzin's attention was no longer on Neutemoc before striking.
Neutemoc took a deep breath. He was obviously wrestling with a difficult decision. At last he said, 'I want to join your investigation, Acatl.'
If anyone deserved to, it was Neutemoc. He'd suffered much in this, but I wasn't sure I could bear his ongoing hostility towards me. On the other hand… I'd allowed Teomitl to take part; I couldn't in all honesty deny Neutemoc for my own comfort.
I laid my hands on the reed mat, a hand-span from Huei's jewels. 'You're sure?'
'Yes,' Neutemoc said tersely.
'Then you'll have to be honest with me.'
His eyes flickered. 'I will. After all, I have nothing to hide any more. Or to lose, indeed.' His voice was bitter, and cut me to the core.
'Very well,' I said. 'You can help.'
He nodded. 'Thank you.' But he didn't move to touch my hands, and the set of his jaw said, clearly, that he hadn't forgiven me: that we were temporary allies, to avenge Huei and Eleuia and Quechomitl, but that we were not, could never be reconciled. And I wasn't sure I could ever be on friendly terms with him: not when his own foolishness had been the canker at the heart of his marriage, turning Huei into a stranger to both of us.
'Do you know,' I asked, 'why someone would try to kill you?'
'Apart from our friend the High Priest?' Neutemoc asked.
'I think he's more crafty than this.' The least you could say about the attack was that it lacked subtlety.
'Then no,' Neutemoc said.
'Any enemies?' I asked, and thought of Mahuizoh. I'd forgotten about him in the rush to defeat the beast of shadows; but he had a prime motive for wanting Neutemoc dead.
'Not that I know of.'
Neutemoc appeared sincere, but I still asked, 'Among the Jaguar Knights?'
'The usual resentment that I was elevated, not born into the nobility. But not, I think, enough to justify such determination.'
'Hum,' I said. I would definitely have to meet Mahuizoh, if he ever came out from wherever he was hiding. But, if Mahuizoh was a sorcerer of such powers, how come no one at the Jaguar House, or within his own household, had ever mentioned it? 'I'll enquire. Mihmatini is putting wards around the house, in addition to the protection she already put on you. It should keep you safe.'
'Safe,' he repeated wryly. 'Whenever did my own sister turn into a powerful priestess?' He didn't sound unhappy, but rather deeply puzzled, as if this were a wholly unexpected outcome.
I shrugged, feeling as dislocated as he was. 'When she started eating maize gruel, I suppose.' It had been an ongoing joke in the family that Mihmatini had screamed whenever Mother attempted to switch her diet from milk to gruel.
Neutemoc smiled, a tight expression that didn't reach his eyes. 'I suppose,' he said, and the moment of shared reminiscences was past.
'I'll go to my temple,' I said. 'I've got some unfinished tasks.' Such as speaking to Ichtaca before matters between us festered beyond recovery.
Neutemoc nodded. 'I'll join you later.'
I toyed with the idea of telling him to get some sleep, but decided in the end that only Mihmatini could afford that kind of remark. I didn't want to tear our fragile understanding.
As it turned out, I didn't go to my temple immediately, because Mihmatini caught me in the courtyard, and insisted on my getting a proper meal. Despite my protests, I somehow found myself sitting next to her and the children, and facing a pale, angry Neutemoc who no doubt wished Mihmatini would stop trying to reconcile us.
The dinner was brief and perfunctory. Despite the sumptuous dishes aligned on the table – fried newts, white fish with red peppers and tomato, agave worms and sweet potatoes – I ate little, my stomach roiling at the mere thought of receiving food. I tried to avoid Neutemoc's gaze as much as possible, and focused instead on what I needed to do. Many, many things, including having a heartto-heart talk with Ichtaca.
But Mihmatini forestalled me again, insisting I spend the night at the house.
'I have other things–' I started.
She drew me aside, exasperated. 'They're going to come back. You know that. Do you really want to leave us undefended?'
'You're good,' I said. Better than me, I suspected. The spell of protection she had cast on Neutemoc – and now on the whole house, removing us from the sight of any foes – was intricate, and mastered by few. I was incapable of casting it.
She shook her head. 'I'm not good enough to keep him safe.'
My first, shameful thought was: Then let him die. Let my parents see that he's no better than me. But I couldn't hold that thought for long, not without remembering how I'd already let Father down by not undertaking his vigil. I couldn't do it a second time.
'He's not going to be happy,' I said.
'Then let him brood,' she said. 'It will keep him alive.'
I didn't know what Mihmatini said to Neutemoc. She talked to him in a low, urgent voice, making a couple of stabbing gestures with her hands. He said nothing when I unrolled a sleeping mat in one of the spare rooms.
Sleep was a long time coming. I kept seeing Huei's bitter, resigned face, moments before the Wind of Knives arrived; and in my dreams it turned into the wrinkled face of the ahuizotl, its eyes yellow and malevolent.
Finally, darkness came and swallowed me whole.
