Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,32
this world, the keeper of the invisible boundaries. If they dare to do that, then no one here is safe.”
Quenami’s face shifted to disdain. He was going to tell me that he was High Priest of Huitzilpochtli, that out of all people, he should be safe.
I forestalled him. “It was poison poured into a meal, or a drink.” I kept my voice as innocuous and as innocent as possible. “That could happen to anyone. Even if you could have your meals tasted by a slave, it was slow-acting. She didn’t show any symptoms until a few hours after the poisoning.”
”What poison?”
”I don’t know,” I said. “But a nasty one. The muscles refuse to obey. You’re trapped as a prisoner in your own body, until your lungs or your heart give up. It’s not a pleasant way to go.” Not to mention pointless. Sacrifices and wounds dealt on the battlefield were painful, but this pain was an offering to the gods, the whole body becoming a sacrifice. But, for Ceyaxochitl, there would be no reward, no justification for enduring this slow slide into oblivion.
”Fine,” Quenami said. “What do you want me to do, Acatl?”
”Just answer a few questions. Did you or did you not see Ceyaxochitl yesterday?”
”Yes,” Quenami said. “Very early in the morning.”
”And?”
He hesitated for a while, trying to see what he could and could not tell me. “She kept insisting to know where I stood.”
”Not surprising.”
”I suppose not,” he said with a trace of the old haughtiness. “But still, she was annoying.”
That I had no doubt of – she could be. “Did she eat or drink anything while she was with you?”
He looked at me for a while. “I could deny it, but I think you wouldn’t believe me.” His face creased into an uncharacteristic smile. “She had maize porridge, brought by the slaves.”
”Your slaves?”
Again, Quenami hesitated. “Yes.”
I made a mental note to see if any of that maize porridge was left. There were spells to detect the presence of poison, although they took a long time to be cast and could be finicky. “And what about Ocome?”
”What about him? I barely knew the man.”
”I think you’re lying.”
”And I think you’re trying to draw me out.” He looked me in the eye, his aristocratic face exuding casual pride.
”I know you came to see him.”
”Who wouldn’t?” He made a dismissive gesture. “The man had a vote, and he was selling it. Who wouldn’t leap at the chance?”
“An honest man,” I said, a little more acidly than I’d meant to.
Quenami smiled pityingly. “It’s a wonder you’ve remained High Priest so long, Acatl.”
And it was a wonder he’d become High Priest at all. But I held my tongue.
”Seriously,” Quenami said. “You know who I support, and who Ocome supported. Why would I kill him?”
”Because you couldn’t trust him not to change sides?”
Quenami snorted. “Murder is a serious matter, not decided so lightly.” For once, he sounded sincere. Not that it changed anything. I could well imagine him planning a murder with much forethought, and though it looked as though he’d become High Priest only through his connections, I very much doubted his magical abilities would be insignificant.
”I see,” I said. “What do you know about Coyolxauhqui?”
”My, my, just full of questions today, aren’t we? I can’t possibly see what I can tell you about She of the Silver Bells that you don’t already know, Acatl. Sister of the Southern Hummingbird. Creator of the star-demons. Rebelled against Him during the migration to found the Empire. Defeated, and imprisoned beneath the Great Temple.” His tone was bored, as if he were reciting something learnt by rote. But, if he had been worshipping Her all along, he would have learnt to hide his allegiance.
”That’s all you know?”
”What else would there be?” He lifted a hand, thoughtfully staring at his tanned, long fingers, covered with jade and turquoise jewellery. “I can still feel Huitzilpochtli’s power, so She’s still imprisoned. And we’re warded against star-demons.”
He was, as usual, far too confident. He had not even bothered to check.
But still, as High Priest of Huitzilpochtli, he made a poor candidate for a secret worshipper of She of the Silver Bells. He had passed both the initiation as a priest, and the investing with the Southern Hummingbird’s powers, all of which would have been difficult to do with conflicting allegiances.
• • • •
After I was done with Quenami, I could have gone back and seen the council; but there was one person I had not interviewed at all, and