And then, surprised by my own words, I thought: She?
‘Come to watch?’ the captain smirked.
The sorcerer made no answer. I could only look on with mounting dread as the outlandish creature danced slowly towards me, and past me. It began circling the otomi, stopping behind the great warrior’s back for one more twirl.
‘I wish you’d stop that,’ the captain said irritably. ‘It’s beginning to get on my nerves!’
Still silent, the sorcerer danced away obediently. It was only afterwards, playing the scene back in my mind, that I realised that the left hand was now empty.
‘That’s better. Now, where shall I cut?’ He raised the sword.
From very far away I heard shouting voices and running feet, but all my senses could take in then were those obsidian blades, glittering in the firelight.
I shut my eyes, ready for the impact.
The roar of flames filled my ears. Smoke scorched my throat and stung my nostrils.
An age seemed to pass, and nothing happened.
Was this what death was like, I wondered, waiting forever until the way through the Nine Hells opened up before you?
A piercing, unearthly cry broke out of the darkness around me, a scream of inhuman pain and fury, and suddenly to the smell of blazing wood and thatch was added something new, a bitter, oily reek that I struggled to identify.
When I opened my eyes again, it was to watch my enemy dying on his feet. As he stood, smoke swirled above and around him, and yellow flames and sparks were leaping over his head. The sword, still poised, twitched violently in his hand. He screamed once more, just at the moment when I recognised the smell of burning feathers.
He jumped, dropping his sword as he leaped and whirled, and the light of his flaming back-device, the cloth and feathers and reeds blazing like pitch, became a brilliant streak, like the sun’s reflection on the lake, as he ran from it.
My brother, Handy and Quail ran up. For a moment they could only stand and stare, too astounded to move.
The otomi pranced about, bellowing and cursing, beating at the flames behind him. Lion jumped out of his way as he blundered blindly towards him.
‘The club, Lion!’ I yelled. ‘Get his club!’
Finally coming to his senses, Lion darted towards the discarded weapon. He was too late. He had to jump out of the way again as the anguished, infuriated otomi bore down on him.
The captain’s foot slammed down on his own blades and his cry shot up in pitch as sharp edges of obsidian sliced through sandal leather and flesh and toe-bone alike.
He crashed to the ground, and the burning cloth, feathers and reeds fell over him, burying his head in fire.
On the ground beside him lay the sorcerer’s incense ladle. It still smoked faintly, although there were no coals in it, because the sorcerer had tipped all of them over the wicker frame on the captain’s back.
10
Lion, Handy and Quail helped me to my feet.
‘Be careful! That hurts! What do you mean, can I stand? What does it look like? Don’t touch the leg! I’m likely to lose it as it is!’
‘Ignore him,’ Lion said. ‘He’s like this with a nosebleed. Just get him back to the parish hall.’
Handy was looking at the incense ladle. ‘What’s this doing here?’ he asked.
‘The sorcerer dropped it,’ I said. ‘I can explain when I can sit down and rest this leg – that’s if I haven’t fainted first! And I need a drink.’
I never finished the sentence, because Lion interrupted me.
‘Look at the parish hall!’
The temple was all but burned out by now. Yet for some reason the light seemed to be growing rather than diminishing, and I became aware of sparks dancing about me, and something pricked the back of my neck: a piece of burning vegetation. The air was alive with bright orange fireflies, dancing and coupling amid thickening clouds of white smoke.
I followed Lion’s gaze to stare in horror at the flames that were leaping up over the parish hall. A falling ember had caught one of the plants at the top of the steps. Soon they would be ablaze, and Lily and Kite were up there, trapped by their own barricade.
‘We’ve got to get them out of there!’ I cried fatuously. There was no answer. When I tore my eyes from the sight I saw that Lion and the others were already running towards the blazing building. I lurched and limped in their wake, reaching the courtyard in time to see them frantically tearing at the barricade, braving the heat and the thorns and cactus spines in their efforts to get through it.
It was not working, I realised with despair. As I watched, Lion reeled blindly away down the steps, coughing and gasping, driven back by the flames. A few moments later he staggered back up them, but by now it was hotter still, and Handy and Quail had been forced to retreat as well.
There was no sign of Kite or Lily.
I stumbled to the bottom of the steps just as Quail toppled down into the courtyard for the last time. ‘It’s no good,’ he gasped. ‘The roof’s going to collapse. There’ll be nothing left up there after that.’
Lion came down, grabbing me by the arm and tugging me away with him. ‘I’m sorry, Yaotl,’ he yelled. ‘We were too late. There’s no sign of life up there anyway. We’ve got to go before the whole place comes down around us!’
I could only stare stupidly at him while he told me the woman I loved was dead. I did not scream at him or shout ‘no’ or curse the gods, the way I have heard people are supposed to. I just allowed myself to be led quietly away, while the parish hall of Atlixco burned to the ground.
They were waiting for us in the plaza outside: what looked like all the menfolk of
