I could have begged and pleaded with Eliztac, but it would only have demeaned me. He had made his decision, and I would gain nothing by attempting to make him go back on it.
Entering the temple without his permission was tantamount to suicide: in my present state, I didn't have the power to hide myself from Chalchiutlicue's magic, and I didn't want to know the fate the temple reserved to trespassers.
"Thank you," I said, and walked back to Oyohuaca's boat.
The ahuizotl watched me from the water, a dark, lean shape whispering its seducing song. It followed us all the way home.
Neutemoc's house was bathed in the grey light before dawn; and the slaves were already getting up to grind the maize flour. I found my sister, Mihmatini, in the reception room, playing patolli with one of the slaves. She was sitting on a reed mat, listlessly throwing the white bean dice on the board and picking them up again, but clearly making no effort to focus on the moves of her pebbles.
Mihmatini looked up when I entered. "Acatl!" Her gaze moved beyond me, focusing on Oyohuaca, who was waiting respectfully by the entrance.
"You didn't find her then," she said. Her disappointment was palpable.
I wondered what I could tell her. But if I started lying to my own sister, I had fallen very low indeed. "She's in Chalchiutlicue's temple."
Mihmatini frowned. She gestured for the slave to get out. He picked up the patolli board, dice and pebbles as he exited. "And you can't arrest her?" she asked.
I saw the instant the inescapable conclusion dawned in her mind. Her face, for a bare moment, froze into an expressionless mask. "Acatl," she whispered. "Please tell me she didn't–"
I couldn't lie to her. "I'm sorry. It was the only way she'd be safe."
"Safe for a month or so, until they drown her?"
I sat on the mat where her patolli partner had been, facing her. "The priests said a year or two. But yes. They'll drown her in the lake." I tried to tell it as simply, as emotionlessly as I could, but I couldn't quite hide the turmoil inside me. In just a handful of days, my comfortable world had shattered. But I, at least, was alive: not in a cage like Neutemoc, not awaiting death like Huei. "They won't let me see her," I said.
Mihmatini closed her eyes and bent her head backwards, in a gesture eerily reminiscent of Father when I'd displeased him. "I don't understand why she summoned the beast," she said.
"Do you think I do?"
She snorted. "You're the investigator."
"A poor kind of investigator," I said. "It seems I can't even get hold of my suspects."
Mihmatini said nothing for a while. Her eyes were on the empty place between both our mats, and her thoughts obviously further away. Finally, she said, "What about Neutemoc?"
What about him indeed. I'd been pondering the matter on the way home, and had some ideas, but nothing definite. "The judges will hear him today. Huei would have proved his innocence," I said.
"Chalchiutlicue's temple won't even let Imperial Investigators in?" Mihmatini asked. But she knew, as I did, that the investigators could drag the priests and priestesses out and do with them as they pleased, but that someone destined for sacrifice had already removed themselves from the flow of our lives.
I asked her, carefully, "Will you bear witness for me?"
"For Neutemoc?" she asked.
"He's in an Imperial Audience, and I need evidence to get him freed."
"I'm his sister," she pointed out. "They won't believe me."
"The slaves will support you," I said.
"A slave's testimony–"
"Is receivable before the courts, unless the rules have changed." Any man could become a slave; any one could fall so low they had no choice but to sell their freedom.
Mihmatini puffed her cheeks, thoughtfully. "But the rules have changed, haven't they? No one gets so quickly moved to an Imperial Audience."
"There are complications," I admitted. "Political matters."
Mihmatini snorted. "Politics. That alone makes me glad I'm a woman."
"Women take part in politics too," I said, thinking of Eleuia.
"Less often," Mihmatini said. "Anyway." She ran a hand on her jade necklace. "I'll say what needs to be said, but I don't think it's going to be enough."
I bit my lip, thoughtfully. "Huei received two men, two days ago, in the afternoon. Can you ask the slaves if they remember them?"
Mihmatini shrugged. "I can try. But I think they were all intelligent enough to make sure they wouldn't be witnessed."
"Maybe." It was a risk we'd have to take.
"Have you found the priestess?" Mihmatini asked.
"No," I said. I should have thought of sending to Ixtli, letting him try to find a trail from the Floating Garden. Duality curse me, I'd been too obsessed with what I'd learnt about Huei to even think of using Teomitl as a messenger.
It was too late now. I'd stop at the Duality House on my way to the temple, to see what could be done. "But I don't think she's alive any more," I said to Mihmatini.
"Then you'll never find her," Mihmatini said. "Few things are as anonymous as corpses."
She'd changed. She spoke like an adult, sure of herself. And yet her face was still that of the baby sister whose first steps I'd watched. It was unsettling. Had time passed so quickly, leaving me with nothing but my sterile priest's calling as my own?
"I know," I said, quietly, unwilling to delve deeper into the subject. "But at this moment, all I need to prove is that Neutemoc didn't summon that beast of shadows. We'll see about the rest later." Such as explaining to Neutemoc what his wife had done.
"Very well," Mihmatini said. "I'll come tomorrow. At your temple?"
"Tomorrow, at midday," I said.
She nodded. "You could stay here to get some sleep, you know. You're in no state to traipse through the streets."
I heard what she wasn't telling me: that the house without either Neutemoc or Huei would be huge, filled with slaves who barely knew Mihmatini. I wished I could comfort her; but I had to go back to my temple and gather all I could to get Neutemoc freed.
"I can't," I said. "Not tonight."
Tomorrow… tomorrow, if things went well and the High Priest of Tlaloc didn't have his way, Neutemoc would be home. He'd take care of her: she was blameless in the whole matter.
Mihmatini shook her head. "You're not walking home in this state. I'll get Oyohuaca to row you back to the Sacred Precinct."
I would have protested, but in truth I felt too tired for that. I rose, now used to the sharp pain that accompanied every one of my movements, and bade her goodnight. "See you tomorrow then."
"You fool," she said as I limped into the courtyard. But her voice was more amused than angry. "Give those wounds a chance to heal."
I did not answer, and left Neutemoc's house without giving her further incentive to tease me.
Oyohuaca rowed me back to the Sacred Precinct in silence and left me by the western docks. Flotillas of reed boats, each bearing the insignia of the temple to which they belonged, bobbed in the darkness. Somewhere at the back would be the large ceremonial barge reserved for the High Priest for the Dead, its prow painted the colour of bone, its oars carved with owls and spiders.