Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,135

me towered the round, grinning face of Tonatiuh the Fifth Sun – bloodied tongue lolling out, His red hair framed by the signs of the calendar, giant stone glyphs arrayed around Him like a crown. His gaze, His endlessly burning gaze, rested on me, and I slowly became aware that I held Tizoc-tzin’s soul in my arms.

It was small and misshapen, like the body, and the light of the Fifth Sun made it seem transparent, as if it would wash it out of existence at any moment.

Somewhere beyond me was Acamapichtli, carrying the living body. Quenami stood in the centre, waiting for us. “Now, Acatl.”

I walked, or flew, to him, and so did Acamapichtli, and we were as one. They were pressing against me, Quenami with his insufferable arrogance and conviction that the universe owed him everything, and Acamapichtli, already thinking of ways to turn the situation to his advantage. There was an overambitious priest in his temple that he needed to get rid of, and this would be the perfect opportunity…

And Tizoc-tzin.

Small and pathetic and made of fears, of envy, of an uncontrollable ambition that had, as Teomitl had said, eaten him alive. I sought for a man, cowering behind that mask, and could find nothing. No face, no heart. Doubts and fears and suspicion, was this the man we had raised as Revered Speaker? No wonder Itzpapalotl was still waiting, waiting for the Empire to fall, for Her mistress to be free. There was no other place he could take us, he and Quenami and Acamapichtli, all working for their own gain.

Something was wrong. Something…

They were calling my name from far away, and I still held the soul clutched tightly in my grasp, in the Fifth Sun’s light, a light that was growing in intensity, promising the heat of the desert, the scouring touch of pyres. What was I thinking? It was the Fifth World at stake. Surely I could force myself to–

But I couldn’t. Here, in this time, in this place, in the heart of our strength, no lies were left. I couldn’t be one with the other priests, for they were my enemies, and I couldn’t bring Tizoc-tzin back, for I had despised him beyond words when he had been alive.

I thought of Ceyaxochitl, making her slow way into darkness. It wasn’t fair. Why was Tizoc-tzin – as unworthy of an exception as they came – chosen to be lifted out of death, while she remained in Mictlan? Why did he get to have everything he wanted, in spite of all the damage he had done, all the lives he had carelessly spent, from Ceyaxochitl’s to Echichilli’s?

Why?

I couldn’t.

”Acatl!”

I–

Surely there had to be a way, something I could do. I tried to release Tizoc-tzin’s soul, but it wouldn’t budge. I tried going to Quenami and felt everything that separated us, every reason I despised him, he who had intrigued and schemed and thrown me into jail and almost executed me. I tried going to Acamapichtli, and saw his power-games and how little he cared about human life, that he would sacrifice anyone and anything standing between him and what he wanted, including my own brother. And I couldn’t forgive either of them, or even claim to understand their acts.

In that place, in that time, I sank to my knees with Tizoctzin cradled against me, watching as if from a great distance, watching the Fifth Sun’s grin grow wider and wider, as if He had always known I would fail, feeling, distant and cruel, Itzpapalotl’s amusement, and Teomitl’s frantic attempts to understand what was going wrong.

Surely I could set my feelings aside, for the sake of the Fifth World?

Surely.

But I had no lies or accommodations left, and my contempt was destroying everything. All I had to do was to believe in what I was doing, to see Tizoc-tzin as our worthy Revered Speaker, Quenami as our leader, and Acamapichtli as a peer. Only that, and I would rise, I would give back the breath that was in my body, and everything would be as it should with the world.

But Tizoc-tzin had cast my sister aside as nothing, Quenami had thrown me in jail, and Acamapichtli had tried to kill my brother. In the end, it was the pettiest things that defined me.

The Fifth Sun’s light washed over us, strong and unforgiving, like a wave in a storm. I dug my heels in, but I could feel its strength, and knew that it was going to throw me out