We drew many curious glances as our small procession crossed the Sacred Precinct, heading towards the Duality House. Through the fog, I thought I caught a glimpse of Ichtaca in his headdress and spider-embroidered cloak, leading a handful of black-clad offering priests back to the temple for the Dead.
Getting inside the Duality House required some negotiation: the guards weren't willing to let in two dozen people. They sent for their superior – who turned out to be Yaotl, Ceyaxochitl's personal messenger. I wasn't sure whether his smug smile was an improvement on the situation. His eyes took in the slaves, Neutemoc, and Mihmatini, with Ollin sleeping in a wicker basket at her back, and four year-old Mazatl in her arms.
'I'm sure there's a good explanation for all of this,' Yaotl said.
I wasn't in the mood to provide much of anything to anyone. 'There is,' I said. 'I'll give it to you once we're inside.'
'I suspect I'd rather have it now,' Yaotl said.
I sighed. 'Your walls are solidly warded. Is that good enough?'
Yaotl glanced at the adobe walls, and finally shrugged. 'Warded against what?' he asked.
'Against things that might be trying to kill us,' I said.
Neutemoc was standing to the side, glowing with Mihmatini's protection, brooding like a jaguar over lost cubs. He wasn't talking to me, and he was avoiding Mihmatini, too. But then, we both were, after the verbal flaying she'd given us on the way there.
Yaotl looked again at the walls. 'Protection. It's irregular–' he started.
'You care about irregularities now?'
He smiled. 'Possibly. However, you come at a good time. Mistress Ceyaxochitl wanted to see you. I suppose we'll count all the others as your retinue.'
'Ha,' Neutemoc said.
'The sense of humour runs in your family, I see,' Yaotl said, as Neutemoc's slaves all gathered in the first courtyard of the Duality House. Neutemoc found himself an isolated place, from which he could glare at me in peace.
'No,' I said, 'I can't say I ever had much of one.' I gathered my priest-senses, and felt the solidity of the Duality wards, woven into the very foundations of the walls by generation after generation of Guardians. This was a safe place, the safest haven magic could devise. The surest prison, also. I could well imagine how Neutemoc would chafe within those walls.
Mihmatini was laying Mazatl on the ground, wrapping a blanket around him with the help of an old slave woman. Then she settled down, and started rocking Ollin against her chest, singing a soft lullaby.
'Come,' Yaotl said. 'They can get settled without your help.'
Ceyaxochitl was waiting for me within the Duality shrine: a vast, open space at the top of the central pyramid, with a limestone altar, a carved piece of stone, as flat as the surface of a still lake. There were no grooves to collect the blood, either on the altar or on the platform; for the Duality only took bloodless sacrifices such as fruit or flowers.
'I wasn't expecting you so early,' she said. She was leaning on her cane as if rooted to the ground. Her face, like Mihmatini's, was wan and tired. Above her, heavy clouds were gathering: the rains were coming, and would start soon, thank the Duality.
'He's not alone, either,' Yaotl said, with some satisfaction.
Ceyaxochitl raised an eyebrow. 'Not alone?'
'He's brought a whole household.'
'Your brother's?' Ceyaxochitl asked, quick to see the point. 'I take it the creatures are still there.'
'Yes, and it's getting worse. Your wards are down.'
Ceyaxochitl tapped her cane on the floor, thoughtfully. 'They shouldn't be. I'll have to look into this. When I have priests to spare.'
'Hum,' I said. 'I'd rather you focused on these.' I handed her a bundle of cloth, containing the bones of Eleuia's baby.
Ceyaxochitl held it in the palm of one hand, and carefully started unwrapping it with the fingers of her other hand. 'What is this?'
'Bones,' I said. 'The bones of Eleuia's child.'
'Mm,' she said, poking at them with one finger. 'Odd bones, you mean.'
'Yes,' I said. 'But I'm not sure if it's relevant.'
Ceyaxochitl looked at them for a while. 'They feel wrong. But I'm not sure why. I need to think.'
She was exhausted, it was obvious: this promise was likely all I was going to get. But I could not force her, in any case. 'Why did you want to talk to me?' On the way there, I'd entertained the notion that she'd found a way to kill the creatures – even that she'd have found the sorcerer, and that both Neutemoc and I could go our separate ways. But it didn't look to be the case.
Ceyaxochitl's face was grave. 'I have news, Acatl.'
Bad news, judging from her solemn voice. 'The Emperor?' I asked. Though, if Axayacatl-tzin died and there was political upheaval, Ichtaca would deal with the consequences of that.
Then I remembered, with a twinge of unease, the conversation we'd had. I didn't need further conflict between us.
Ceyaxochitl was shaking her head. 'Yaotl?' she asked. 'Can you make sure we're alone?'
Now she was frightening me.
Yaotl came to stand near the top of the only stairs leading to where we were, his hand resting on the hilt of his macuahitl sword. Ceyaxochitl moved towards the altar – on which, I suddenly noticed, lay a piece of maguey paper.
She took it in her free hand before I could read it. 'I haven't been idle while you were away.'
