Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,11

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, Acatltzin. 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 storied house. 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,”