Power blazed across the quincunx, wrapping itself around me, sinking into my bones. The usual dizziness was made worse by my spell of true sight. I barely managed to rise after completing the invocation.
I looked at the creatures again. They were still clawing at the walls, pressing against each other to feed on our wards. I couldn't help shuddering. Their mindlessness, their relentlessness didn't seem to belong in an ordered world.
From their centre issued a thread of white power, so faint it was almost transparent. The threads joined, high above the creatures, in some sort of complicated knot: a spell of control. After the knot…
I narrowed my gaze to see. Beyond the knot, the threads merged into one, and hurtled back towards the earth. I couldn't see where the spell ended. To do that, I'd need to go outside, to walk past those creatures. In principle, the spell of protection Mihmatini had cast on all of us the previous afternoon should keep me from their sight. In principle.
I guessed they would pay no attention to me: they hadn't done so when they'd attacked us, not unless we stood between them and Neutemoc. But there were guesses, and then there was truth. There were blustering boasts – and there was Quechomitl's body, lying on the ground, draining itself of blood through his wounds, drop after drop, going deeper into Mictlan with every passing moment.
I closed my eyes. Did I want to do this? For Neutemoc? For my brother, who could only fling the reproaches of the past into my face?
No. For Huei, who had let herself be dragged into this. Who had let someone manipulate her, not knowing the price. Someone would pay for this. There would be justice: the only thing I could give her.
I went to wake up Mihmatini.
She was not happy. 'You want to do what?' she asked, when she'd finished rubbing at her eyes.
'Find the source,' I said, pointing to the wall. 'And you–'
'Yes,' Mihmatini said, curtly. 'I should keep watch.' She puffed her cheeks, thoughtfully. 'I'll renew Huitzilpochtli's wards on you, just in case.'
I watched her trace a quick circle on the ground – Neutemoc was never going to forgive us for the mess in his courtyard – and start a hymn to Huitzil-pochtli.
Radiance blazed across the courtyard, as strong as sunlight. It sank into my skin, tingling with warmth, hissing as it came into contact with Mictlan's knives at my belt. I waited for the feeling to subside; for the protection to be complete.
Mihmatini looked at me critically. 'Hum,' she said. 'It's not really taken hold, has it? It's already skittering away.'
Unlike Neutemoc, I wasn't a devotee of the Hummingbird; quite the reverse, in fact. Mictlantecuhtli and Huitzilpochtli were opposites: the dry, wizened God of Death and the youthful War God could hardly be compatible. 'How long do I have?' I asked.
Mihmatini shrugged. 'A couple of hours. I'd tell you to be careful, but I know when I'm just wasting my time. Do try to come back without leaking any blood.'
I made a mock punching gesture; she sidestepped, gracefully, smiling. 'You're getting better at this whole humour thing,' she said.
I didn't trouble myself to answer that.
As I passed the gates with a lit torch in my hand, three of the creatures turned towards me: a quick, lithe movement that put me in mind of snakes or pikes. I held my breath, knowing with a cold spike in my belly that I was lost if they decided to attack me.
But the spell worked: they didn't pay attention to me. They merely turned to the wall, and started feeding again, huffing. It might have been, I realised with a chill, my brother's name they were breathing out, over and over.
I turned away from Neutemoc's house, and followed the rope of magic that issued from the creatures. It snaked, leisurely, through the wide streets and canals of Moyotlan: past the houses with the sweet smells of banquet food wafting out into the night, past the groups of warriors going into the Houses of Joy, laughing among themselves.
Here, alone in the darkness, I was in my element – not High Priest, not brother or son to anyone – but tracking a wrong in the fabric of the universe. For the first time in days, I felt at peace. A strange kind of peace, tinged with the awareness that it couldn't last, but it still soothed my heart.
The trail snaked south, towards the Itzapalapan causeway, the same direction we'd taken when hunting for the beast of shadows. I walked through the deserted streets, thinking on the case. Moonlight shimmered on the canals to my right and to my left; and the reed boats at anchor bobbed up and down, as if on the rhythm of some unseen breath.
Someone had tortured Eleuia; and someone was now trying to kill Neutemoc. It might be for the same reason, in which case they both had knowledge of a secret. But Neutemoc had sounded sincerely ignorant of anything useful. Or, it might be two different groups, trying to achieve different aims.
But still, what vital information could Eleuia have possessed? Despite everything Neutemoc had said to me, my instincts told me that it had to do with Eleuia's child. But why, if the child was indeed dead? Unless Neutemoc had been deceived. Unless, blinded by love, he had seen exactly what Eleuia wanted him to see.
I walked past the fort at the gates of Tenochtitlan. The warriors on duty, standing outside with their feather-shields and throwing spears, gave me a cursory glance, and dismissed me as harmless. The trail was still following its leisurely path along the Itzapalapan causeway. My heartbeat quickened. Could it be so easy to find who was behind the summoning of the creatures?
