He dropped it in my hand. "It was meant for you."
I rubbed my fingers on it, felt the familiar protective energy arc from the pendant to my heart, but far, far weaker.
Not obsidian. It was jade. Blackened jade.
And that in turn could only mean one thing: that I had been wrong. Only underworld magic could blacken jade so thoroughly.
EIGHT
The Jade Heart
"I don't understand," Teomitl said, as I tied my cloak around my shoulders. "What does it prove?"
It proved I had been mistaken. It proved Ceyaxochitl had been wrong. Incompetents. Accursed incompetents. No wonder we couldn't find a nahual. No wonder the beast had been able to leap over that walclass="underline" it had never been a jaguar.
I strode into the courtyard of my temple. A group of novice priests in grey cloaks, who had been talking among themselves, hurriedly walked out of my way. "It proves we need to change what we're looking for."
"It's not a nahual?"
I shook my head. To blacken jade… I wasn't sure, but it was probably a beast of shadows, summoned from the eighth level of the underworld.
Which meant two things: the first was that, since underworld magic was involved, I could track the beast after all. The second was that I didn't have to worry about the summoner: the underworld had its own justice. The Wind of Knives punished those who blurred the boundaries between the underworld and the Fifth World, and our summoner would soon find himself facing his own executioner.
All I had to do was find the beast and send it back to Mictlan. And rescue Eleuia. I was reasonably sure, though, that it was too late for the priestess. Whatever her abductor had wanted of her,
they had it by now.
But first, I wanted to ascertain something.
At the door of the girls' calmecac, the priestess who was standing guard looked at me questioningly. "I have to check something in Priestess Eleuia's room."
"At this hour of the night?"
"It's a matter of life and death," I said. Behind me, Teomitl's footsteps slowed down. The priestess's gaze moved to him: a warrior wearing a white cloak embroidered with hummingbirds, and with an obsidian-studded macuahitl sword at his side.
"He's with me," I said, not wanting to discuss the matter further.
"You people," she said. "Go in, if that's what you want. But don't cause a fuss."
As we ran through the various courtyards, under the curious gazes of young girls, I reflected that a young warrior and a priest for the Dead had to cause some fuss within her school. Unless she had a different definition than I did.
Eleuia's courtyard was still silent: even Zollin's rooms were dark, no light filtering between the painted pillars of its entrance. The nahual's trail, subjected to daylight, had completely vanished. But what remained…
What remained was another kind of magic entirely: dark and roiling, and angry, the one that had given its flavour to the summoning. Underworld magic.
It was the faded trail of a beast of shadows, eager to feast on a human heart, to receive its promised reward.
"Two magics," I said aloud. I could have wept. Why hadn't I seen that before?
Teomitl had followed me into the courtyard; he stood, silently watching the pine tree at the centre as if he could extract some meaning from its twisted shadow. "Two spells?" he asked.
"I didn't think…" I attempted to make sense of what I'd seen. "Someone summoned a beast of shadows from Mictlan. And someone else – someone in this calmecac – added nahual magic on top of it, to cover the trail."
"I don't see the point–" Teomitl started.
"Beasts of shadows aren't common," I said. "You can track them." I could track it. I could find Eleuia. But a full day and night had elapsed since her disappearance. The beast, if it had not killed her, had had time to do whatever its summoner had wished it to.
"You couldn't track a nahual?" Teomitl asked, with faint contempt.
I shook my head. "Too many of them. And the magic dissipates in daylight. But using one magic to cover another…" That had been a masterful stroke; an uncommon idea that required a great knowledge of magic.
Who had captured Eleuia, and why? Was it Mahuizoh? I didn't know. But I didn't think he'd have the skill to cover his tracks, even if he had breached the boundary between the underworld and the Fifth World.
Anyone with the proper knowledge could summon a beast of shadows. But if I could find the beast, I would learn who its summoner was: a beast of shadows was imprinted with the few moments that had followed its entrance into the Fifth World. It would remember its summoner.
"I see." Teomitl's face was set. "Now what?"
"Now you go home," I said.
Teomitl shook his head. "No."
It was late; I was tired, and not in a mood to negotiate. "You don't understand," I said. "It's going to get dangerous. Very dangerous."
Impatience was etched into every feature of his face. "All the more reason for you not to go into this alone."
"I've been tracking beasts of shadows for ten years," I said.
"Yes," Teomitl said. "But you're tired."
I started. "How do you know?"
He shrugged. "I can read it. It's not so hard, Acatl-tzin."
Not only was I tired, it showed even to callow youths. "I don't need help," I said.
"But you might," Teomitl said.
"Look–" I started, and stifled the yawn that threatened to distort my face.
"I'll be careful," Teomitl said. "I know how to fight." "It's not a warrior's fight."
"No," Teomitl said. "But it is still a fight."
"And you're that eager to get into trouble?"
"To prove myself." The hunger in his gaze was palpable: an obsession that was eating him from inside.
"Haven't you proved yourself already?" I asked. "You took a prisoner."
He snorted. "With my comrades' help. That's no feat of arms."
I sighed, and presented what I hoped would be a decisive argument. "Understand this," I said. "If you do help me, you can't breathe a word about it."
Most youths would have refused at that point. For what is the use of feats, if you cannot boast of them to your comrades? But Teomitl tossed his head, contemptuously. "I don't care about my peers' opinions. Is it a 'yes', then?"
I had exhausted my arguments; and time was running short. "You'll do as I say," I snapped.
Teomitl smiled widely. "Of course."
"And don't put yourself in danger needlessly. I don't need a death on my conscience." But he would not go the way of my apprentice, Payaxin, wouldn't die because of a mistake.
Teomitl shook his head, as if implying that needless deaths were utter foolishness.
"Let's go," I said, aware I'd just been played on, with the same skill as a musician on the flute. For all his arrogance, Teomitl was a shrewd judge of men. Too shrewd for his own good, perhaps.