Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,94
to fade again, but I wasn’t fool enough to touch one of Tlaloc’s artefacts without any protection of my own. Much like Huitzilpochtli’s spells, that magic was opposite to my own.
”You’re admirable, in your own way.” He snorted, but with much of the usual aggressiveness gone. “Choosing not to meddle in what you can’t grasp. You know your own limits.”
If I’d had more strength, I wasn’t quite sure of what I’d have done. For all his arrogance and hasty judgments, he had a point. I had never been made for politics, or for the post of High Priest; I weathered as best as I could, did my best to rise up to the occasion. But I would never breathe it in as Quenami did, as Acamapichtli did, as all the birth-noblemen did, the ones who had watched their parents and grandparents swim in the currents of politics like children in the waters of Chalchiuhtlicue’s streams and lakes. “He who remains bound by his own limits is the worst kind of prisoner,” I said.
”True.” Acamapichtli shifted. “But you’re still a foolish man, Acatl. One does not dive into the bees’ hives without knowing where the queen is.”
”If that’s all you have to say, I wonder why you bothered to come at all.”
His lips curled up, in a smile without sincerity. “As I said, I’m not their ally. With you removed, they’ll turn their attention to me. I’ve come to make sure you last as long as you can.”
More than anything, his matter-of-fact tone chilled me. “They’ve decided, then?”
”They’ll find a pretext,” Acamapichtli said. He snorted. “They lack imagination, but it won’t be hard to concoct something they can blame on you. And then the next Revered Speaker can appoint a High Priest more malleable than you are.”
There were two ways to appoint a new High Priest: when the old one was demoted, or when he died. “They won’t strip me of my rank,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
Acamapichtli said nothing. The cold at my nape could have been that of the underworld. Death held no secrets for me anymore, but sometimes, knowing was worse than being in the dark; it left no place for hope, none at all. Like all the souls I guided down into darkness, I would make my way to the throne of Lord Death, and dissolve into oblivion, everything left unfinished forever. There was no recourse. There had never been.
I took a deep breath, refusing to think about the chasm yawning at my feet. “Very well. If that’s the way it’s going, I’ll need information.”
Acamapichtli nodded, as one craftsman to another. “You’ll have an audience, a closed one, with only Tizoc-tzin and perhaps a few of the faithful in attendance. They planned for you to be insensate long before this, to make it fast and short.” He gestured to the fang on the ground. “This won’t hold until then, but it should deflect part of the Southern Hummingbird’s magic.”
”I see.” I sat down again, my hand straying towards the fang. The earth was warm underneath, but I wasn’t fooled. Like Grandmother Earth in the Fifth World, it was nothing but hunger, and would not rest until all the blood had left my veins. “I’m surprised they let you do this.”
He snorted again. “As I said, fools, the lot of them. They think I’m settling accounts with you for my disgrace.”
He, too, was a much better actor than he had appeared to be at first. I had underestimated him, perhaps even more so than Quenami. Never again.
”Any defence I have wouldn’t be much good, would it?” I asked.
Acamapichtli did not move for a while. “It might. I don’t know. You have one chance, Acatl, and one only. The SheSnake will be part of the audience. They won’t be able to do anything but include him, since they want to expedite this before the election.”
The She-Snake? He was much too canny to be caught doing anything in favour of a convicted traitor. Not much of a chance. The hollow in my stomach wouldn’t close.
”What about Teomitl?” I asked.
”He’s not in a position to help you. Tizoc-tzin has him confined to his quarters, ostensibly for his own safety.”
”And Nezahual-tzin?”
”Too smart to let himself be dragged into something like this,” Acamapichtli said.
I hated to admit this, but he was right. Nezahual-tzin had known how fragile his position was all along, although ironically his offer to help find Xahuia and clear his name was the one thing that would allow Tizoc-tzin