Harbinger of the Storm - By Aliette De Bodard Page 0,98
on to the serpent as well as I could, I cast a glance backward. Tizoc-tzin, the She-Snake, and Quenami stood on the platform. Quenami was frantically whispering a spell, dabbing blood on the ground. But the She-Snake… He just stood, watching the serpent glide away through the courtyard. He could have done something, too. Unlike Quenami, he had come fully prepared, but he didn’t.
I could have sworn he was smiling.
The serpent flew to a deserted spot outside of the city, in the midst of the Floating Gardens, the series of island-fields that grew our crops. It landed in the middle of a patch of newlyplanted tomatoes – the green leaves just opening – and, with a great sigh, it sank back down into the earth.
The ahuizotls remained. They watched me with unblinking yellow eyes, as if daring me to put a step wrong. I pulled myself into an upright position, the most I could do. It wasn’t only the weakness induced by the heartland – less than an hour ago, I had been convinced this day was my last – to find a sudden reprieve was heartening, but it was the sort of unwelcome episode I’d have been glad to avoid altogether.
Four silhouettes walked towards me from the single hut on the edge of the floating garden, wading through the maize stalks. I wasn’t surprised when they turned out to be Teomitl, Nezahual-tzin, and the two Texcocan warriors I had seen earlier.
Wordlessly, Teomitl handed me a couple of obsidian knives which I put back into their sheathes.
”Impressive,” I said, slowly.
”Just a trick.” Nezahual-tzin smiled.
Teomitl looked more preoccupied. “Acatl-tzin? You don’t look–”
”I’ll be all right,” I said, raising a shaking hand. “I just need a moment to recover.”
”See?” Teomitl said, with a scornful glance at Nezahual-tzin. “I told you it would work.”
Nezahual-tzin grimaced. “I’ve heard better plans. But yes, it worked. Only because they got sloppy.”
”I thought you were confined to your rooms,” I said to Teomitl, the only thought that occurred to me.
”I broke out.” He smiled again – pure Teomitl, carelessly proud.
”Right. Right. So did I, it seems.” I stared at the ground under my feet, took a deep breath. The air was clean and crisp, nothing like that of my cell. “What now?”
They both looked at me as if it were obvious that I held the answer. The gods help me, I didn’t need another adolescent struggling with nascent responsibility, Teomitl on his own was enough trouble for a lifetime, and I had a suspicion Nezahualtzin would be even worse.
”We need to move,” I said. “We can sort out the rest later. Tizoc-tzin isn’t going to let you get away with it for long, and neither is Quenami.” I looked at Nezahual-tzin, who was currently focusing on the water lapping at the floating garden’s edge. Ah well. Lost for lost, I might as well get a chance to commit the crime they’d accused me of. “How soon can we be in Texcoco?”
Nezahual-tzin’s gaze drifted back towards me. He didn’t look surprised in the slightest. “One, two days? We have boats and supplies, but we’ll have to get past the dyke as soon as we can.”
Texcoco lay east of Tenochtitlan, across the lake of the same name, and a great dyke had been built to prevent the waters of the lake from flooding us. It was manned by a few forts, though its main purpose wasn’t military. Any invading army would come by land, which meant one of the three causeways rather than the lake.
”Two days?” I asked.
”A little less if the gods are with us.”
”Or the ahuizotls,” Teomitl said. “But not in Tenochtitlan, we’d stand out too much. Let’s wait until we’re out of the city.”
”And Mihmatini?” I asked.
Teomitl grimaced. “She’s gone to the Popocatepetl volcano. On a pilgrimage of, ah, indefinite length.”
And I could imagine how much she’d have protested at being taken away for her own safety. “Good,” I said. “Let’s go. We can sort out the details later.”
Nezahual-tzin’s boats were two flat-bottomed barges, a slightly larger version of the canoes fishermen steered all over the lake. They looked as if they had been specifically purchased for the rescue rather than brought with him. A Revered Speaker such as him would normally travel with more pomp, and the boats looked more utilitarian than grand and imposing.
The first boat was packed with the supplies he had mentioned – wrapped maize flatbreads and fruit, as well as cages holding owls and rabbits. The second one was packed with