Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,83
remained Revered Speaker in his own right and not a vassal of Tenochtitlan, if he had been naïve. But I didn’t know what his own ends might be.
”Efficiency does not appear to be a quality of your men.” He sounded amused. “She’s disappeared for four days. Knowing my sister, she’s already making other plans, and you won’t like them.”
”We’re doing what we can,” I said, stung.
”Of course you are.” Nezahual-tzin lounged on the chair looking thoughtful. The smell of incense grew stronger as if he had fanned it himself, prickling my nostrils. “But still, you are not blessed by the Feathered Serpent.”
”So you are His agent?” I asked. No point in dancing around each other like fighting jaguars. Diplomacy had never been my strongest quality.
”Perhaps.” Nezahual-tzin smiled again. His grey eyes rolled up, revealing eerily white pupils, filled with a single pinpoint of light. I did not back down, having been expecting something like this for a while. Besides, whatever he looked like paled beside star-demons. “I have quite enough power for this, I assure you.”
”But I have no idea what you’re using it for,” I said.
”Fine. Let’s be blunt with each other, then. It ill suits me to see the Fifth World endangered. I have vested interests in seeing who becomes Revered Speaker, I will confess, but being torn apart by star-demons is not part of my plans, now or in the future.”
Everything about him sounded or looked older than he was. I couldn’t be sure if being Revered Speaker had aged him, or if Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent, was indeed speaking through him. Either way, he worried me. I could deal with Teomitl’s brash innocence, but with Nezahual-tzin I kept thinking I was speaking to a spoiled adolescent, but he wasn’t one. He had probably never been.
”And you’re offering–”
”You know true sight,” Nezahual-tzin said. “You’ve probably used it.”
”Of course.” It was one of the rituals anyone could use without being a devotee of the Feathered Serpent, not one of the god-touched mysteries.
”There is another ritual.” Nezahual-tzin’s voice dropped a fraction, echoing as if through a great cavern. “A deeper, more ancient one from the Second Sun, of which the true sight is but a faint remembrance.”
The Second Sun had been the Age of Quetzalcoatl, presided by the Feathered Serpent in all His glory until the Smoking Mirror, Quetzalcoatl’s eternal enemy, had changed mankind into chattering spider-monkeys. “That’s what you want to do? If it was that simple–”
”Oh, no, it’s not that simple.” Evening had come and Nezahual-tzin’s teeth shone white in the gathering darkness. Slaves moved to light the braziers, the smell of charcoal overwhelming that of copal for a brief moment. “The Feathered Serpent does not require human blood, but he does ask for penance, and preparation.”
”Fasting, and meditation,” I said. “I’m not totally ignorant.”
”Good,” Nezahual-tzin said. He pushed the cup of chocolate aside. “A full night’s vigil is what is usually required, from the emergence of the Evening Star until the Morning Star’s dawn.”
Another way of telling me he needed my answer now, or we would have to wait another day to track down Xahuia.
Teomitl had not trusted him, but Teomitl’s judgment was hardly impeccable. Still…
”I’m not your enemy, Acatl-tzin,” Nezahual-tzin said. “I assure you.”
”You…” He was a politician; a born liar. “I can’t trust you.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think.
He looked at me, his eyes rolling up again in that eerie way. Had he been Tizoc-tzin, I’d already have been on my way to the imperial cells but instead he said nothing. Silence spread in the room, grew oppressive.
”Nezahual-tzin…”
”No, I understand your reluctance. But understand, Acatltzin, as long as Xahuia is loose in Tenochtitlan, I am at risk. I am her countryman; worse, her brother. If she is accused of destructive sorcery, then…”
”I shouldn’t think your reputation was so bad.”
”It has been better,” Nezahual-tzin, with not a trace of humour. “As you said to the pup, I know who to sacrifice, and when. Xahuia has done her time.”
I wasn’t sure whether to admire his frankness, or to despise him for his calculations. I said the first thing which came to mind. “You underestimate Teomitl.”
”Perhaps.” He did not sound convinced. The ghostly serpent behind him swayed in a rustle of feathers. “But that is beside the point. Will you take my help, Acatl-tzin, if only on this?”
It wasn’t safe. Quite aside from the fact that I didn’t trust him or his motives, there was also the question of his allegiance.