Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,56
of Teomitl’s room. “My brother is one of those men who can kill themselves quite effectively by sheer exertion.”
Teomitl raised a hand. “Not now.” He turned back to me, his face hardened into stone. “I want to know what happened.”
He listened to my increasingly confused explanations, his face growing darker as I spoke. “The Guardian is dead?”
”I’m not sure. You could send to the Duality House.” But I was sure, and the emptiness in my chest, the tightness in my eyes, weren’t only because of the hole in the Fifth World. Ceyaxochitl had loomed large over my life, and, much as I wanted not to believe that she had gone, I had seen enough people deny Lord Death’s grip on their lives, and pay the price for their blindness. Death should be accepted, and the living should move on.
I knew this. But still, I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking, couldn’t stop the prickling in my eyes.
”And Manatzpa is the summoner?”
”Yes,” I said. “And the man who killed Ceyaxochitl.” But it made no sense. Manatzpa’s life had been as much in danger as ours and he had seemed genuinely angry at Echichilli’s death. And, to cap it all, he had not been able to cast out the star-demon. “I’m not sure, actually. Some things just don’t fit.”
”I see.” Teomitl’s gaze was dark and thoughtful. “I’ll ask Tizoc if I can interrogate him, then.”
”He’s in Tizoc-tzin’s hands?” I asked. If he’d been in any hands but Teomitl’s, I’d have expected the She-Snake’s.
”Those were his guards.” Teomitl sounded genuinely surprised. “Do you think I have my own?”
”You’re Master of the House of Darts.”
”Not yet.” His voice was low and fierce. “I have to be worthy of it first.”
”I should think you’ve proved yourself amply.”
He sighed. “You’re not the one who makes the decisions, Acatl-tzin.”
A fact I knew all too well. “Still…”
”Still, I’m a troublemaker.” His lips twisted into a smile. “Not ready for politics. But with Tizoc’s help, this should sort itself out.”
”You went to see him yesterday,” I said. “When you said you were going to dismiss the ahuizotls.”
”What of it?”
”Nothing,” I said. “Except that you could have told me the truth.”
”I know how you feel about my brother.” Teomitl’s face had grown cold again.
Silence stretched, tense and uncomfortable. It was Mihmatini who broke it. “Teomitl,” my sister said. “He needs rest. Honestly.”
Teomitl looked me up and down. His gaze darkened, as if he didn’t like what he saw. “Yes, you’re right.” He rose, stopped by her side to run a hand on her cheek. “Take care of him.”
She smiled. “Of course.”
A tinkle of bells, and then he was gone, leaving me alone with my sister. Somehow, I wasn’t sure this was an improvement. “Acatl–”
I raised a shaking hand. “I know what you’re going to say. I need sleep, I need my wounds to close; and I need to stop traipsing around the palace on too little food.”
”See? I don’t even need to say it.” Her face went grave again. “Seriously, Acatl.”
”Seriously,” I said, pulling myself up against the wall. “You shouldn’t be here.”
She puffed her cheeks, thoughtfully. “Why?”
I wasn’t deceived. I might not have been a big part of her childhood, since more than ten years separated us, but I knew all her ways of deflecting my attention. “You must know that you’re not welcome here.” That you weaken Teomitl’s position – that you open him wide to Tizoc-tzin’s accusations, however unfounded they might be…
But I couldn’t tell her that. I couldn’t repeat the horrors Tizoc-tzin had said about her.
”Acatl.” Her gaze narrowed. “My brother is gravely wounded. I don’t care what it looks like. Knowing you,” she said, darkly, “you might have killed yourself before I got there.”
Manatzpa had almost taken care of that. “Look–”
”No, you look. I’m not a fool. I know who doesn’t want me here; and I know that he’s not Revered Speaker yet.”
”He’s still powerful enough to cause you a lot of trouble.”
”What’s he going to do?” Her gaze was bright and terrible, and for the first time she looked more like a warrior-priestess than my smiling, harmless sister. “I don’t have a position at Court, or anything he can touch. He can order me not to see Teomitl again–” she stopped, her eyes focusing on me. “Oh.”
I shook my head. “No. He wouldn’t dare displace me. Not now.” I wasn’t so sure, but it was reassuring that more than a day had elapsed since my interview with Tizoc-tzin, and that I was still High