Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,38
the court altogether. And, without his brother Teomitl to stand for me, any audience I sought would end in disaster.
But still, he might well be behind it all, and I couldn’t stand by while he swept to power under the cloak of Axayacatltzin’s approval.
How would I face Ceyaxochitl, if she ever recovered?
What I needed was an ally, or at any rate someone who made sure that I came out of Tizoc-tzin’s chambers without losing anything. Manatzpa was not nearly powerful enough; it had to be one of the other contenders for the turquoise-andgold crown.
My heart was not up to asking Xahuia or Acamapichtli. Given how my last interview with the High Priest of the Storm Lord had ended, pacifying him would be nigh impossible.
The She-Snake, then.
I headed towards the She-Snake’s quarters. They were in a courtyard symmetrical to the imperial chambers, on the other side of the palace – as befitted the symmetrical roles of the Revered Speaker and the She-Snake.
Unfortunately, when I arrived there, the She-Snake had left for his evening devotions. I asked when he would be back, and was met only with a shrug.
”I wouldn’t bother, if I were you.”
I turned, slowly. Acamapichtli was standing behind me in the courtyard, dwarfed by his headdress of heron feathers. “Why?” I asked. The last time I had seen him had been his argument with Teomitl, which had ended with his walking out of the room. He seemed calmer now, although he still appeared tense.
He made a quick stab of veined hands. “He won’t see you. He doesn’t receive anyone but his followers.”
”And you don’t count yourself as such.”
Acamapichtli rolled his eyes upwards. “That much should be obvious.”
”Which side are you on, Acamapichtli?”
”I don’t think I’m obliged to say that to you.”
”It might demonstrate goodwill,” I said, a little sarcastically.
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll admit I was wrong to leave yesterday. But I didn’t have to answer those questions, especially not in the way your student asked them.”
His admission was bald, made without a trace of shame, and it was like a blow to the solar plexus. Out of all the people I’d expected an apology from, he was the last.
Since I remained silent, he went on, “I’m not trying to overthrow the Fifth World. I never was.”
”You act oddly for someone who isn’t.”
“Allow me a little mystery.” His voice was sarcastic.
“This isn’t the time for that.”
”What do you want to know?” He drew himself up, wrapping his blue cloak around him. “That I’m ambitious and do things for my own benefit? That is true. That I don’t approve of Tizoc-tzin or the She-Snake?” The way he spat the words left little doubt as to what he thought of them.
”I can’t take your words on this,” I said.
”Then take my acts.”
”Fine,” I said. “Then tell me about the envoys.”
He smiled, and bowed, a little ironically. “Perhaps you could call them mine. I wouldn’t swear to anything before any god or any human court, of course.”
I fought to keep my fists from clenching. “Suppose they were yours. Why would they come back so regularly?”
”He was a man who needed watching.”
”Even if he wasn’t yours?”
”Especially if he wasn’t mine,” Acamapichtli said. “You seem to overestimate the council, Acatl. They might have responsibilities and grand-sounding names, but in the end, they’re nothing more than men too old to go to war.”
”Tizoc-tzin isn’t old,” I said. And Teomitl, if he became Master of the House of Darts, wouldn’t be either.
He tapped his head with a finger. “Not old in body. Old where it matters. They don’t like risks anymore. They don’t throw the bean and wager on the outcome. They want safety, at any cost. One way or another, they were all like Ocome, and they knew it. They all watched him, to determine what they should do.” His voice was far too bitter for a simple statement, as if he’d gone against them, and found them lacking. What had happened?
”They weren’t anxious for whatever gamble you had in mind?” I asked, not bothering to disguise my hostility.
”My own business,” Acamapichtli said, a tad acidly. “But it doesn’t have anything to do with his death. I’ll swear it on any god you want.”
“You’re easy with your promises. For all I know–”
”For all you know, even Tizoc-tzin might be implicated.” His voice was mocking.
”And you don’t think he is?” That surprised me.
”Tizoc-tzin is a weak fool, but he’s too much like you. He wants stability under the blessing of the Southern Hummingbird, with magic kept to