"It might have something to do with Eptli's death."
"Eptli." His face darkened – in anger, in hatred? Whatever it was, it seemed to be directed at something beyond the dead warrior. "I remember Eptli. What a waste. And Pochtic–" His eyes narrowed and glimmered – one shaking hand went up to his face, wiped them clean. "This shouldn't have happened."
"We're wasting our time," the She-Snake said. He looked from Pochtic to Coatl, and then back to Tizoc-tzin. "My Lord… if there is a conspiracy against you, I very much doubt it's here."
For a moment, I thought Tizoc-tzin was going to argue, but then he shook his head. "You're right. Whatever he did, it wasn't against me. Let us go. We need to focus on more pressing matters."
He swept out of the room, followed by Quenami and the other officials.
I caught the She-Snake before he left. "Acatl," he said, His voice was courteous, suggesting, nevertheless, that I'd better have a good reason for disturbing him.
"You'll want to keep a watch on the prisoners' quarters."
"Will I?"
For a moment, I thought of warning him about Teomitl – about what might be brewing in the palace at this very moment. But my stomach heaved at the thought of betraying my student on so little evidence. There had to be a reasonable explanation for his disappearance and odd behaviour. "There is a spell in the courtyard," I said. "Written in blood over the adobe – by someone with no love for the current Mexica Empire."
"I see." He didn't argue with me, thank the Duality. "Who is casting the spell?"
"I don't know. I'm working on it."
The She-Snake grimaced. "I have far too few men as it is, with this whole business. But I'll put those I can spare on this."
I bowed. "Thank you."
He shrugged. "We both serve the same cause, Acatl. Now, was there anything else?"
I hesitated, but still the words were out of my mouth before I could call them back. "What about – Acamapichtli and the clergy of Tlaloc?"
This time, he wouldn't meet my gaze. "I don't know. Tizoc still thinks they might be guilty of something."
Of many things, probably, knowing Acamapichtli, but that was missing the point. "We need them here – serving the same cause. You know that – a priest for the war-god, a priest for the weather and the peasants…"
"And one for those who have moved on. Yes," the She-Snake said. "I know that."
The implications of the sentence were clear. "Do what you can."
"I will." He left with a nod of his head, not looking back.
The room felt much less crowded once they'd gone, leaving me free to talk to Palli. "I'm impressed you managed to heal him," I said, with a jerk of my chin towards Coatl, who still stood, looking at Pochtic's body as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening. "But what did you do, exactly?"
Palli looked nervous. "Is anything wrong?"
I was about to say he hadn't taken a good look at Coatl – until I realised that only the higher orders of the clergy knew that Tizoctzin wasn't quite a man anymore, but something else, a soul held in the body only through the favour of the gods. "Never mind," I said. "I need to know what you did."
Palli shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing wild, Acatl-tzin. Just calling on Toci's favour."
"How?"
He grimaced again. "Human sacrifice. We tried animals, but it was obvious there wasn't enough power."
"You sacrificed a life to save a life?"
"An important life." I hadn't seen Ichtaca creep up behind me – but suddenly he loomed behind me, as forbidding as a god. "I needn't remind you of who Coatl is."
Deputy for the Master of Raining Blood, member of the warcouncil – moving among the turquoise and jade, the brightest lights and most shining mirrors of the Mexica Empire. "I know. I don't care. A life for a life is wrong."
"Then what? Do you want us to kill him again? It won't regain the sacrifice's life. Besides…" Ichtaca said, "he knew what he was doing."
How could he be so high in the hierarchy of Lord Death, and fail to see the problem? "That's not the point. All lives are equal and weighed the same – separated only by the manner of their deaths." I felt like a teacher in the calmecac, repeating obvious truths to boys not old enough to have lost their childhood locks. To give one's life to the gods was the greatest sacrifice, but to do so in favour of another human being, to rank human lives by importance, like things…
Ichtaca's lips pursed. His rigid sense of hierarchy – what had caused him to put Coatl ahead in the first place – wouldn't let him contradict me, his superior. "As you wish," he said.
The Duality curse me if I let him have the last word. "It was good work," I said to Palli. "But I don't think it would make a viable cure."
He looked disconsolate, and I couldn't think of anything that would change matters. "Look into it again," I suggested. "There might be a way around the human sacrifice."
"I suppose."
I wished I could offer more – but black was black and red was red, and he shouldn't have done that. I guessed my point had come across clearly enough. "Ichtaca?"
"Yes, Acatl-tzin?" His face was smooth, expressionless.
"There is a man you need to track down – someone who came here earlier. A calendar priest."
"He will be under the seal of secrecy." He didn't say "you should know that", but it was abundantly clear.
I shook my head. Yes, the priest wouldn't be inclined to reveal the contents of the interview. But still… a drowning man couldn't afford to be choosy about which bit of driftwood to cling to. "He might still give us something to understand Pochtic. It looks as though Pochtic did the prescribed penance, and then still committed suicide." Which, to be honest, made me wonder if the offence hadn't been too grave to be forgiven – which suggested either something large, or something that went against the will of a powerful god.
"Hmm," Ichtaca was still looking at the walls – which reminded me that he'd been muttering earlier.
"Something the matter? Here, I mean."
His gaze suggested he thought more was the matter than a deserted room containing the body. "I don't think – something is odd in this room, Acatl-tzin. I can't quite pinpoint what, but…"
I sighed – assessing my meagre resources. "Palli, can you see about tracking down the calendar priest?"
Palli pulled himself straight, almost to attention. "Yes, Acatl-tzin!"
I could feel Ichtaca's discontent as I moved into the room, leaning on my cane – Storm Lord's lightning strike me, I was looking the same as Coatl, though perhaps not quite so battered.
Coatl still stood where we'd left him, looking down at Pochtic's body. His eyes, dark and shadowed, were all but unmoving, his gaze expressionless. But tears had run down his cheeks, staining the black face-paint. "That's not how it happens." His voice, too, was expressionless – too carefully controlled.
"How it happens?" I asked.
"We die in wars," he snapped. "Caught by spears and cut by obsidian, our souls taking wing on the courage of eagles, the ferocity of jaguars. We don't–" His hand rose towards Pochtic, faltered. "We don't just end it like this."