Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,54
frescoes, far away and powerless, resting in the heartland with no care for us. The air was bitterly cold. I shivered, and drew my cloak closer around me.
”I see you’re awake.”
I had half-expected the voice, what I had not expected was that it would come from so close to me. It took all the nerves I possessed not to jerk in surprise. “Manatzpa?”
He was sitting across from my sleeping mat. A bowl of maize porridge lay between us, along with dried algae. His face in the dim light was unreadable. “I brought you breakfast.”
”Someone…” I fought to part my tongue from the palate where it seemed to have become stuck. “Someone has come.”
Manatzpa looked curious. “Yes. The High Priests, the SheSnake and the Master of the House of Darts. They brought a priest of Patecatl with them, but couldn’t wake you up even after the healing. I told them it wasn’t worth disturbing you.”
Quenami, Acamapichtli, the She-Snake and Tizoc-tzin – all the help I could have expected, but he had sent them away. No one would come back before daybreak. “And Teomitl?”
Manatzpa’s eyes narrowed. Did I seem too eager to leave? He could not possibly have guessed that I knew. “I feel like I’m imposing on you,” I said, with what I hoped was my most embarrassed smile.
”Not at all.” His lips curled up, in that peculiar approximation of a smile. “Anything for the High Priest for the Dead. It’s people like you that keep us safe.”
He would know, of course. I lowered my gaze, as if embarrassed. In reality, I was wondering if Teomitl had come or not, if I could expect him.
Not that it mattered. I made as if to rise, but could not find the strength.
”Acatl-tzin.” Manatzpa shook his head. “Surely you can’t think of leaving so soon. Look at yourself.”
”I have duties,” I gasped, falling back on the sleeping mat.
”Your duties can wait.” His eyes were dark, knowing. “Have some maize porridge.”
And some poison? “I don’t feel very hungry,” I started, but when I saw the shadow steal across his face, I knew I’d gone too far. If he hadn’t been suspicious before, he was now. “But I do appreciate all the trouble you’re going through for my sake.” I reached across, took the bowl, and raised it to my lips, hoping that I wasn’t courting my own death.
The porridge was hot and spicy; my lips tingled from the first sip, but surely it was just my imagination? It couldn’t possibly be that fast-acting.
Better not tempt luck, though. I took a few sips, made a face like a sick man who has discovered he can’t stomach food so soon, and carefully laid the bowl down again. “I’d have thought a man of your stature would have slaves,” I said.
Manatzpa shrugged, an expansive gesture that racked his whole frame. “I have several, but they’re often on errands. I’m young enough to take care of myself, Acatl-tzin.”
He sounded uncannily like Teomitl. If circumstances had been different, I might even have liked him. As it was…
Manatzpa was looking at me, his gaze thoughtful, as if trying to work out something. “Is anything wrong?” I asked.
His lips thinned to a pale brown line against the dark skin of his face, as if he were angry, or amused. “Nothing is wrong, Acatltzin. I just have many things to do, as I have no doubt you have.”
I inclined my head, inhaling the sharp, spicy smell of the maize porridge. “I have no doubt the council will be in a panic after what happened last night.”
Manatzpa’s face did not move. “Two deaths in so little time. Yes, that would be cause for concern.” He gestured again towards the bowls. “You’ve barely eaten anything, Acatl-tzin. Please.”
His eyes were too eager, too hungry. That was when I knew for sure that there was something in that porridge, something he wanted me to consume. My lips itched again, as if blood had just returned to numb flesh. Was that what had happened with Ceyaxochitl? “I’ve already told you,” I said, very carefully. “I feel like my stomach has been overturned.” I pointed to the bandages on my chest. “That tends to cut the appetite.” It was hardly a lie. In the past few moments, the feeling of emptiness had seemed to increase a hundredfold – not like the coming of a star-demon, but as if the existing hole in the centre of the Fifth World had spread – had become a maw, sucking me into its