3
The Threat from Within
We walked out of the Duality House into a beautiful morning, the sun overhead already warming our limbs. It was the dry season, a time when we should have been preparing for war, but the death of the Revered Speaker had slightly postponed the preparations. The next war we launched would be the Coronation War, when the new ruler would prove his valour on the battlefield.
The Sacred Precinct, like most of its priests, awoke early. Because of Axayacatl-tzin's death, the plaza was already crowded. Novice priests scurried on errands to the marketplace. Some had already come back, carrying cages with offerings ranging from rabbits to monkeys. Nearby a fire priest and two offering priests led a chalk-painted sacrifice victim to the altar. The man walked with casual arrogance, proud of being selected for a glorious death, eager to rejoin the Fifth Sun's Heaven.
"I'll see you home," Teomitl said.
"I don't need– "
He smiled, in familiar, dazzling arrogance. The sunlight caught the gold on his wrists and around his neck, and mingled the blinding reflections with the radiance of his magical protection. In that moment, he did indeed look imperial, as if some of his brother's glory had rubbed off on him, some radiance passed between them. "We have star-demons among us."
"Just one so far." I hoped fervently there wouldn't be more.
Teomitl spread his hands. "You walk like a dead soul, Acatl-tzin. If anything happened..."
"I seem to remember you're the student, and I the teacher," I said, somewhat acidly.
Teomitl's smile was wide and innocent. "Isn't that proper respect? Attending to your master's needs?"
And I was the Consort of the Emperor. "Walk with me if you want. But for company, not for protection." Or, Duality forbid, for mothering me.
"As you wish." Teomitl fell in step by my side. People turned as we passed. I was still in full regalia, and the refined costume Teomitl wore could only have come from the court.
"So," I asked. "How is Mihmatini?"
Teomitl had met my younger sister a year ago, and had been immediately attracted to her; and she likewise. I had grudgingly given my approval to the relationship, suspecting all the while that it would go nowhere. An imperial prince was not free to marry as he chose. Teomitl's principal wife would likely come from one of the neighbouring cities, as a token of goodwill and good conduct.
But, to my surprise, it still seemed to be holding, a year on, despite Mihmatini's acid tongue and Teomitl's carefree manners.
However, when I asked that question, Teomitl grimaced.
"Trouble under Heaven?" I asked.
He waved a hand, airily. "Nothing that need concern you, Acatl-tzin. Your sister is as lovely as ever."
And she'd likely tear his head off if he attempted flattery like that. "Teomitl."
His gaze met mine, defiant. "I will soon be Master of the House of Darts, member of the inner council. No one can tell me what to do."
My heart contracted. I couldn't help it. Reason told me that, of course, someone would step in, someone would want to bring the wayward prince back into the norms, but still... Still, whenever she thought of him, Mihmatini's whole demeanour would soften, and her face shine like marigolds in the gloom. Teomitl would make excuses to leave our magic lessons early, so he could casually drop by the house and see her, even if it was with a chaperone. "Someone doesn't agree," I said.
"I could fight one man." Teomitl's voice was low, intense. "Barring a few who are much too strong. But it's bigger than that, Acatl-tzin."
"The court?" I asked.
Teomitl shook his head, and wouldn't answer no matter how hard I pressed him. Finally, he changed the subject with a characteristic, airy dismissal. "Enough about me. This isn't the time. More is at stake than my pathetic little self."
I had to admit that he was right, though I didn't like the way he was behaving. Teomitl was honest and loud, and seldom held grudges. If he was bitter, it was never for long, his natural resiliency allowing him to get past it without trouble. This time it sounded as though they had got to him, whoever "they" were.
We'd reached my house. Unlike the residences of the other two high priests, which were within the palace, mine was a small adobe building set around an even smaller courtyard with a lone pine tree over a covered well. The only concession to my status was the two stories. Tall houses were reserved for the nobility or the high ranks of the priesthood.
"I'll see you at the palace, then," I said.
Teomitl shook his head. "I'll be outside, Acatl-tzin."
I started to protest, but he cut me off. "I know you. You'd just sneak out in a few moments if I left. Go get some sleep."
"And you?"
Teomitl eyed the exterior of the house. "It looks like a comfortable adobe wall," he said, deadpan.
"With your finery? I'd be surprised."
"It's just cloth and feathers," Teomitl said, with the casualness of those who had never lacked anything in their lives. "The imperial artisans can weave them again."
"I'm sure," I said. My bones ached, and my hands were quivering. I wasn't sure how long I could argue with him successfully, especially since, even awake and fresh, I always found myself losing. Teomitl was very persuasive, and as stubborn as a jaguar tracking prey. "Fine. I'll be kinder to your clothes than you seem to be. You might as well come inside."
* * * *
I'm not sure what Teomitl busied himself with when I was sleeping, but I woke up to find him still sitting in the courtyard, glaring at the lone pine tree as if it had personally tarnished his reputation.
I itched to put on something simpler, but since we were going back to the palace, I couldn't shed the regalia. I did tie the skull-mask to my belt, in a prominent position that left the hollow eyes and sunken cheeks visible: it would remain visible, but not hamper me any longer.
We went to Lord Death's temple first, where I checked with Ichtaca that things were going on as foreseen, the suspicious deaths investigated, the funeral vigils taken care of, the illegal summoners arrested and tried. I mentioned, briefly, the body of the councillor. Ichtaca frowned. "That's trouble. Do you want more people?"
I shook my head. Many of the priests were already at the palace, taking part in the elaborate rituals that would culminate in the Revered Speaker's funeral. "You're overstretched already. I'll take those at the palace."
We took a brief meal in the temple with Ichtaca, maize flatbreads with spices, and a drink of maguey sap. Then Teomitl and I walked back together to the palace. I couldn't help casting a glance in the direction of the Great Temple, but the only activity going on seemed to be the usual sacrifices. The altar was slick with blood, and the body of a man was tumbling down the steps, its chest gaping open. Blood followed it, a slow, lazy trail that exuded a magic even I could feel. But I could see the other magic, the white, faint radiance trapped underneath, the anger that possessed Coyolxauhqui. She of the Silver Bells would not forgive, or forget, or relent in any way.
It was past noon. The Fifth Sun overhead battered us with His glare. On the steps leading up to the palace massed a group of priests, clad in blue cloaks, embroidered with the fused lover insignia of the Duality. They were tracing glyphs on the ground with a set of twined reeds. Most other orders would have shed blood, but the Duality deemed blood offerings unnecessary.
At their head was a man I knew all too well: Yaotl, Ceyaxochitl's personal slave. He'd never looked less like a slave, though, his neck was bare, unencumbered by any wooden collar; his cotton cloak was richly embroidered, his cheeks painted blue and black, the same colour as the priests' cloaks.
"Ah, Acatl," he said, his scarred face splitting into a smile. He did not venture any explanation, which did not surprise me. Like his mistress, Yaotl often kept me in the dark, but made no pretence of altruism; it was purely for his own amusement.
I summoned my priest-senses, and took a look at the stairs. The glyphs drawn before the entrance shone for a moment, before sinking into the stone. A fine coating of light had always hung around the palace, the protective wards that kept the high nobility safe, but now the light was growing warmer, clearer. The stone under us was quivering with power, like a heart barely torn out of a chest.
"Reinforcing the wards?" I asked.
"I see your observation skills are as keen as ever." Yaotl cast an amused glance to the sandstone face of the palace, with its frescoes depicting the end of the migration from the heartland, and the founding of Tenochtitlan on the spot where the Fifth Sun's eagle had perched on an agave cactus, gorging himself on a human heart.
"Why now?" I asked.
"As a precaution," Yaotl said. He shook his head, as if to clear a persistent thought. "Huitzilpochtli is already watching here, but He is weak. Mistress Ceyaxochitl thinks help wouldn't hurt."
"Where is?" I asked. "Inside the palace?"
Yaotl nodded. I looked again at the light. It was now tinged with the blue, peaceful radiance of the Duality; but the structure underneath, the magic of the Southern Hummingbird woven in daily layers, was more than solid. Even weakened by Axayacatl-tzin's death, it was impregnable.
"It doesn't need help," I said, aloud. "They hold."
"Observation at work once again," Yaotl said.
No, that wasn't the problem. "It was summoned inside the palace."
"The star-demon?" Teomitl asked.
I nodded. I had been wrong. It wasn't just some foreign sorcerer with a grievance against us. It had to be someone who had access inside.
To be sure, there were means to bribe palace servants, but this wasn't just a matter of someone scouting out the weaknesses of the palace guard. The summoning had to have been done inside the wards, from beginning to end, which implied two things. First, the summoner was enormously skilled, which only confirmed what I already knew. Second, the field of suspects had just been drastically limited. The pillars of the entrance were enchanted, and a sorcerer without court accreditation wouldn't have been able to pass between them.
So, not just any sorcerer, but a member of the court with access to magic. I would need to check who was on the list of accreditations.
I added this to the growing number of things I was going to need men for. I hated taking people away from the Revered Speaker's funeral, which should have been my priority, but if there was a summoner of star-demons loose in there...
Teomitl turned, to look at the protective spells over the gates with a dubious frown.
The Storm Lord blind me, whoever had done this was extremely well prepared. Not only had they managed to find someone on the inside, but they had also been ready to do their summoning in the hours that had followed Axayacatl-tzin's death.
I didn't like the sound of that.
* * * *
The first thing I did upon entering the palace was to go to the Revered Speaker's rooms. I found the guards at the gates in a state of alert. I assumed they had been apprised by the She-Snake on the murder, and were holding themselves ready for anything.
Inside, the burly offering priest Palli was watching as two dozen priests for the Dead prepared the corpse for its funeral. A quincunx of blood spread across the tiled floor, with the faint greenish tinge of Mictlan's breath. The priests were all chanting hymns, calling on the minor deities of the underworld; except two, who were busy undressing the former Revered Speaker. Clothing was all-important: the mummy bundle that would be burnt would be made of dozens of layers of many-coloured cotton, each added with the proper beseeching to the gods, each garnished with gems, amulets and gold and silver jewellery.
Palli nodded to me when I entered, but waited until the current hymn was finish to move outside the blood quincunx. "Acatl-tzin. As you can see, we have matters well in hand."
I nodded. The forms looked to be respected. The room itself was pulsing, with a presence like a burst dam, the breath of the river that separated the underworld from the Fifth World. Everything was well taken care of. "No doubt of that." I hesitated; but it was still something that needed to be done. "How many could you spare?"
Palli looked dubious. "I could without half, but the rituals would progress more slowly..."
"No matter," I said. "The funeral isn't going to be in a while anyway." Not if the other High Priests had their way.
"It's about the body, I assume."
I nodded. "It looks like the summoning of what killed that man was done from inside. I need one person sent to the registers, to check up on the accreditations of all the sorcerers."
"You don't mean– "
"I'm not sure what I mean," I said, darkly. "But watch your step, definitely."
Palli nodded. "I can do that, but..."
"I know." It was going to be a long list. Most noblemen had access to magic, if only for their protective spells. If they didn't have a pet sorcerer, they were sorcerers themselves; and that didn't count the numerous priests and magistrates who came here, either in the service of their temples or in the service of the imperial courts.
"And the others?" Palli asked.
"I want them to search the palace. If a summoning was done here, it should show." The magic wouldn't be washed away, not so easily. "Every room, every courtyard. There has to be a place we can find." It was the timing I didn't like: the murder of Ocome had taken place barely one hour after the death of the Revered Speaker. This suggested... planning. Someone, somewhere had held themselves ready for an opening, knowing it couldn't be long until the ailing Revered Speaker passed into Mictlan.
Palli grimaced again, an expression he was a little bit too fond of. "I'll see who I can spare. For the ritual's end..."
Only the High Priest for the Dead could ease a soul's passage into the underworld. "I'll be there." One way or another. I wouldn't rob a dead man to serve another one.
I just hoped the corpses would stop arriving.
* * * *
Teomitl and I dropped briefly by Ocome's room, which still stank of death. Two guards were keeping watch by the entrance-curtain, looking as if they would have given anything to be elsewhere.
In the room itself, there was not much new to see: the magic was slowly dissipating, absorbed by the wards. I'd expected the scattered gobs of flesh would have started to rot, but they remained in the same state, as if the star-demon's removal of the soul had put a stop to the decomposition process.
I'd made more cheerful discoveries. No matter; he would still burn on his funeral pyre as well as any corpse, provided we could scrape the flesh from the floor and from the walls. For once, I was glad to be high priest, which meant someone further down the hierarchy would do the exhausting, distasteful work.
When we came out in the courtyard in the dim light of late afternoon, I turned towards the burliest of the guards. "How long ago were you assigned to this room?"
I could see him hesitating, his eyes roving over my regalia, weighing the possibility that he could get away with a lie.
It was his companion who spoke,: a much thinner man, with the white lines of scars crisscrossing his legs identifying him as a veteran of some battlefield. He held his macuahitl sword – a wooden club studded with obsidian shards – with the ease of those who had carried it nearly all their lives. "We've been guarding this place for three weeks."
"I see," I said. And, as casually as I could, "I take it you weren't standing guard when this happened?"
The burly guard grimaced. "We thought we heard something on the other side of the courtyard, so we went to investigate."
"And didn't come back?" This from Teomitl, who had been standing with one hand on the entrance-curtain.
He grimaced again. "It turned out to be nothing, but we still wanted to make sure. I went to ask the others who were on guard in the next courtyard." He wouldn't meet my gaze, but in any case I knew he was lying. His companion the veteran was even less talkative.
"Really?" Teomitl started, but I lifted a hand.
"Someone called you away?"
The burly guard had the grace not to answer; the veteran shifted uncomfortably. There was a light in his eyes I couldn't read, anger or fear, or a bit of both. What had been promised to them, in exchange for their silence?
I sighed. Whoever had done this had influence, a currency I was short on. "You do know who this is?" I asked, pointing to Teomitl, who stood up even straighter. "Tizoc-tzin's brother, who will soon become Master of the House of Darts. Do you truly wish to lie to him?"
The burly guard shook his head, a minute gesture that he stopped before it became too visible, but it had already betrayed him. He didn't believe in Tizoc-tzin; or at least, didn't want him to wear the Turquoise-and-Gold Crown.
I didn't know whether to be relieved I wasn't the only to dislike Tizoc-tzin, or terrified that the divisions within the court ran so deep.
"I can have them dismissed," Teomitl said. His gaze was on me, his whole stance had hardened. This wasn't my student anymore, but the man who would one day become Revered Speaker. "Master of the House of Darts or not, I'm still imperial blood."
The guards' faces did not move, but the veteran's hands clenched around his macuahitl sword, slightly tilting it towards us. The obsidian shards embedded in the wood glinted in the sunlight.
"My lord," the burly guard said, cautiously. "We don't seek to deny you, but surely you must understand that there are higher powers – "
Teomitl cut the guard off with a stab of his hand. A pale green light was dancing in his pupils, the power of Jade Skirt, his protector. The Duality only knew what he thought Chalchiuhtlicue could accomplish in this situation. She was more subtle than her husband the Storm Lord, but not by much.
I was slightly taken aback, but not surprised. Teomitl had absolutely no sense of humour when his face and his heart were questioned, or his reputation cast in doubt.
Better stop this before it went too far. Given the tense atmosphere of the palace, I had no intention of explaining why my student had attacked two guards. "Teomitl."
He lifted his eyes – ageless, cruel, malicious – towards me. "They're wasting our time with lies."
"Yes," I said, carefully. "I think dismissing them would be enough, don't you? There's been a lot of blood shed."
For a moment I saw not him but Jade Skirt in the murky reflections within his eyes, in the way he seemed to grow taller. "There is never enough blood, priest," She whispered, Her gaze piercing my flesh holding me squirming like a fish on a pike. Distant, rhythmic voices whispering in my mind, like songs through underwater caves and then She left, the divinity draining out of Teomitl like water through a pierced vessel.
If I was shocked for a moment, and had to pause to recover my breath, it was nothing compared to the guards. The colour had gone from their faces, leaving them as white as sacrifice victims or drowned bodies.
The veteran looked from his colleague to Teomitl, and finally spat on the ground. "Who cares about her?" he said. "She's not even Mexica. It was Xahuia-tzin, my Lord. She asked us."
Xahuia was one of Axayacatl-tzin's oldest wives, the daughter of Nezahualcoyotl, former ruler of our neighbour Texcoco, given to the Mexica Revered Speaker in marriage to cement the Triple Alliance. Her father had been a canny politician, and he had no doubt taught her all she would need to survive at court. I was a fool; I had been so obsessed on imagining foreigners within the city that I had forgotten the most obvious, those already in the palace.
"What did she want?" I asked.
"An interview with Ocome," the veteran said, cautiously. "She had an offer to make."
"And she asked you?" Teomitl's voice was contemptuous.
The burly guard, still visibly shaken, said, "Xahuia-tzin wanted us to let her inside, and leave her alone with him. She said he wouldn't dare throw her out if she could find her way into his rooms, that turning her away at the door was one matter, but once inside, she'd have enough time to speak to him."
I didn't ask what Xahuia had wanted to speak to him about; it was obvious. Ocome, as Teomitl had said, was small and insignificant, a failure by his family's standards, except now, at the one moment when his opinion would make a difference.
"So Xahuia came here," I said. "And you left?" The body had been discovered in the middle of the night, around the Hour of Lord Death; but the death could have occurred well before that.
The guards glanced at each other. "Yes, soon after nightfall. She said she'd warn us when she was done."
And they hadn't returned until the She-Snake sought them out, which made a good four hours unaccounted for. Four hours left unguarded.
By their gazes, they knew they'd made a mistake; and I didn't need to tell them. I wondered how much Xahuia had offered ,what riches she'd turned their heads with. And why she'd wanted them away, at all costs. What was it that she'd done, that warranted total privacy?
The answer seemed obvious, a little too much so.
"I see," I said.
"About the dismissal– " the burly guard started, but the veteran cut him off.
"There is something else you should know, my Lord."
I wasn't quite sure if he'd addressed me or Teomitl; but Teomitl was the one who reacted fastest, inclining his head towards the man in a grave, regal fashion. The feathers of his headdress bent, like hundreds of birds bowing at the same time. "What is it?" he asked.
"He was a man much in demand," the veteran said. His lips curled into a smirk. "Many people came to see him, the other councilmen, Tizoc-tzin, Quenami-tzin, and Acamapichtli-tzin."
The Master of the House of Darts, and my two peers. Not much surprise here.
"There were envoys, too," the veteran said. "They came two or three times, and they didn't look very friendly."
"What envoys?"
"They had blackened faces, and heron-feathers spread in a circle around their heads. It was silent inside when they came." He paused, and smiled without much amusement. "I imagined they didn't find it necessary to talk much."
"Intimidation?" Teomitl asked. The wrath of his protector Jade Skirt was creeping back into his features. Had the boy learnt nothing in a year? He seemed barely able to control his powers tonight.
"It's to be expected," I said, more dryly than I'd intended to. "Threats or rewards are the way you move the world." Even with gods – the only things which changed was that the stakes, desires or fears had nothing in common with mortals. "When was the last time they came?"
The veteran thought for a while. "Three, four days ago. They might have come while we weren't on guard, though."
Odd. Why had they ceased coming? Had they got what they wanted?
"How long ago did Ocome shift his allegiance?" I asked Teomitl.
He made a dismissive gesture. "More than ten days ago, Acatl-tzin. That's not it."
It didn't quite make sense. Was there yet another faction, or had one of the visitors decided to send others to intimidate instead of coming in person?
Teomitl nodded to the veteran. "Thank you," he said. He looked at both of them, his eyes narrowing. "Which doesn't excuse the fault."
"My lord– " the burly guard started, but the veteran shushed him.
"I'll take it into consideration," Teomitl said. "In the meantime, you'd better think on what you've done."
He waited until we were out of earshot to speak. "Gods, what fools."
I didn't know why I felt moved to defend them. "You don't know what she offered them."
"I can guess." His face was still as harsh as carved jade. "Gold, feathers, silver. They're no better than Ocome, they'd rather trample their faces and hearts rather than be destitute."
"Many men would," I said, at last. As High Priest for the Dead, I oversaw inquiries into all kinds of suspicious deaths; and I knew all too well the depths to which the human soul could sink. "Not everyone has your fortitude." Or his fortune, indeed.
"That's no excuse," Teomitl said, a trifle abruptly.
I had seldom seen him like that; it was in moments like these that I felt much younger than him, less hardened to life at court. I knew that his tutors at the palace had taken him back in hand since last year, but it was as if his brother's death had cracked open a shell, revealing a pearl stuck inside, so luminous and warm that it would burn whoever touched it.
"Well, I hope it's not Xahuia," I said, as we walked out. It was evening, and the palace bustle was slowing down, the braziers' red light shone in the rising gloom. Time to find some dinner, and then to head home. It had been a short day which had started late, because of the sleepless last night.
"Why?" He looked puzzled. "That would finish the investigation quickly."
"And launch us into a war with Texcoco." The Revered Speaker of Texcoco, Nezahual-tzin, had acceded his throne young with the support of Tenochtitlan. At sixteen, he remained a beleaguered young man eager to prove himself to his detractors. If we executed his sister, he would at the very least want compensation for her death, if not use the pretext to unify his people against us.
"We'd win the war in any case," Teomitl said. He sounded smug. "We have twice their strength, and the better men."
"I don't think we need that kind of war on our hands right now." As usual, he thought like a warrior first and I, no matter how high I'd risen, would always think like a peasant. His numbers presumed every single able man was pulled from the fields, which would be disastrous for the harvest. Glory was all well and good but not even the warriors would have food if the harvest was not gathered.
"Acatl-tzin." He shook his head, mildly amused. I wasn't entirely sure I liked the way his careless arrogance was turning into something much more contemptuous.
But, then again, I knew exactly who he was borrowing from, and I'd never liked the man's arrogance.
His brother, Tizoc-tzin, perhaps our next Revered Speaker.
I shook my head. "In any case, we need to arrange protection for the remaining councillors." I would have done it myself, but my patron Lord Death wasn't exactly a god of protection against anything.
Teomitl barked a short laugh. "I'm not a priest."
"You're watched over by a goddess, though," I said, but I knew he was right.
Teomitl looked dubious. "I'm not really sure..."
I shook my head. "No, you're right." Any spells Teomitl worked were likely to be large and unsubtle, and shine like a beacon. They might protect, but they'd also draw unwelcome attention. "We'll offer them protection from the Duality." I was sure Ceyaxochitl wouldn't mind. She might groan and protest a little theatrically if she was in a bad mood, but she would understand the stakes.
She always did.
* * * *
There were many feasts that night in the palace, loud and boisterous, the various candidates for the Turquoise-and-Gold crown showing their largesse and gathering their support. Teomitl, who disliked pomp, led us to the courtyard just outside his rooms, where we sat under the night sky, eating a simple meal of frogs and amaranth dough.
Afterwards, I headed back to my house to sleep – deeply and without dreams. The trumpets of the Sacred Precincts proclaiming the return of the Fifth Sun woke me up just before dawn. I got up, dressed, and found Teomitl already waiting for me, as much at ease as if it had been his own inner quarters he was sitting in, instead of under the lone pine tree in my courtyard.
"I could have picked you up on my way," I said.
He smiled at me sweetly, innocently. "The palace is a dangerous place, Acatl-tzin."
I snorted, but made no further comment.
"Where to?"
"The council," I said; time to see if we could get answers out of them.
We entered the palace through the gates, where Yaotl's wards shone in the sunlight, and headed towards the state room. We were perhaps halfway to it, bypassing the House of Animals where cages held everything from webbed-foot capybaras to dazzling quetzal-birds, when someone called out.
"Acatl!"
It was Quenami. The High Priest of Huitzilpochtli the Southern Hummingbird appeared to have found another set of ceremonial clothes: a heavy feather headdress falling in his back, and huge plumes hanging from his belt, spread like the wings of a hummingbird. He smiled at me with paternal condescension, never mind that he was the younger one here. "Just the man I wanted to see. Come, we need to see the council, and reassure them that nothing is wrong."
Treating me like a peer when it suited him, not that I was surprised. "We were already on our way."
If I'd expected to faze him, I was disappointed. "Perfect. Then let's go together."
I hid my grimace of distaste as best as I could, and fell in step next to him. He was going to be surprised, though, if he thought what I had to say was going to reassure the council.
We had a powerful summoner within the palace, capable of calling star-demons, and ruthlessly determined to influence the succession. Unless things went their way, I very much doubted that they would stop at the murder of one councilman.
Our only hope was to catch them before they struck again.