"Why did you leave the city?" I asked.
He blinked, slowly. "Am I forbidden to go where I wish?"
"No," I said. "But with an investigation going on–"
"An investigation," Mahuizoh said arrogantly, "that I have nothing to do with."
A patent lie. "So you deny you had a part in this?"
"Abducting her? Torturing her? Yes."
"How do you know she was tortured?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I heard the rumours."
A convenient reason. Too convenient, maybe? It had only been half a day since we'd found Eleuia's body. How could he have known about its state?
"Who told you?"
Mahuizoh smiled. "It was all over the Jaguar House. Probably the Eagle House as well."
"I see," I said. Though I was suspicious, I couldn't think of anything more to ask him. I turned to Neutemoc to see if he had any more ideas; but my brother was still deep in thought.
With a sigh, I took my leave from Mahuizoh.
Neutemoc was still thinking as we walked back to the Sacred Precinct. "He's right, you know," he said.
"He's a liar," Teomitl snorted. "A liar and an honourless man, who thinks nothing of insulting his peers."
"Yes," Neutemoc said. "But still…" He spoke to no one in particular. He refused to look at me, or even to walk near me. "She was cold when she first saw me. I had to remind her of the Chalca Wars before she'd pay attention to me."
"And?" I asked, unable to resist a small jab. "She'd been through so many men she didn't remember you."
"She remembered my name," Neutemoc said. "But it wasn't until we talked together…" He shook his head. "I wonder if he was right, and I had something she wanted." It appeared to bother him immensely. And no wonder, since it showed Eleuia in a wholly different light.
"She wanted power over you," Teomitl said.
"What did you talk about?" I asked.
Neutemoc shrugged. "I don't remember exactly. Mostly about bygone times – the thrill of the battlefield, and how you'd wager every bit of your future, going into combat." The nostalgia in his voice was palpable: a raw hurt. Was this what he'd tried to regain with his affair: the sense that everything could be won or lost?
We walked the rest of the way in silence. In the temple courtyard, Neutemoc asked, "What now?"
I glanced at the sky. It was late afternoon, high time for lunch. "Let's get something to eat," I said. "And then I need to visit your home." I wanted to know if Mihmatini's wards still held, if the creatures had come back and tried to attack the house while Neutemoc was still protected by the Southern Hummingbird.
Neutemoc's eyes blazed. "I told you–"
"Never to darken your doorstep again. Yes, I know that. But do you really want yourself or Mihmatini to be attacked again?" I asked.
Neutemoc shuddered. "No," he said. He wouldn't look at me. "You can look at the wards. But–"
"I know. I won't stay more than I have to."
Teomitl had obviously been fidgeting the whole time we'd been talking. Now he said, "Well, if you're in this for a while, I'll go back to the calmecac."
"Won't they worry about your absence?" I asked. For a calmecac student, he was leading a remarkably careless life, never noticing the strictures the school was meant to impose on one's days and nights.
Teomitl shrugged. "I'll get another penance," he said, with a smile. "Good day, Acatl-tzin."
And, as he turned to go away, the golden light of the sun hit him full on the face – highlighting the hawkish profile, the high cheekbones, until the features that I had seen many times turned into something else. Tizoc-tzin's face.
"Teomitl!" I called.
Halfway through the temple gates, he turned, and there was no doubt. The resemblance with Tizoc-tzin was so marked it was hard to believe I'd missed it before.
Imperial blood. That explained the unthinking arrogance, as well as the spell hanging around him. As a young member of the Imperial Family, of course he'd be under Huitzilpochtli's protection. Who was he to Tizoc-tzin, to Revered Speaker Axayacatl-tzin? A nephew, a distant cousin?
Teomitl was watching me, his head cocked, impatient to move on.
"Who are you?" I called, because I couldn't help it.
Teomitl looked at me with incomprehension. "A warrior."
"No," I said. I couldn't stop the shiver that ran through me. Who had I taken into a hunt for a beast of shadows? Who had nearly been killed by my carelessness? "Who are you? Tizoc-tzin's cousin?"
Neutemoc's head jerked up. He stared at Teomitl with widening eyes.
Teomitl's gaze moved from Neutemoc to me. His face was expressionless.
"I'm his brother," he said. And, turning on his heel, he walked away into the crowd of the Sacred Precinct.
Neither I nor Neutemoc had the courage to stop him.
FIFTEEN
Food of the Gods
In Neutemoc's house, I found Mihmatini in the children's room, cradling Ollin against her chest. The baby rocked with her, making small, unhappy mewling noises.
"He misses his mother," she said.
"I know," I said darkly. Neutemoc wasn't about to let me forget that.
"Is Neutemoc with you?"
"In the reception room, I suppose." After Teomitl had left, Neutemoc had been silent, not even venturing a word on the way back. And I… I couldn't afford to think of Teomitl, not now. I couldn't think of how I'd almost lost the Emperor's brother, because I hadn't been suspicious enough of who Ceyaxochitl was sending to me.
"How was your day?" I asked Mihmatini, to clear my thoughts.
She shrugged. "I took care of the house, and of the children. They weren't very happy at being kept inside. But how else can I protect them? A good thing most of them are in calmecac. Can you imagine my keeping control over five shrieking children?"
I shook my head. "Three is enough." Mazatl and Necalli were both in the courtyard, helping, with the intent seriousness of children, to water the flowers.
Ollin had fallen asleep. Mihmatini laid him in his cradle, humming a lullaby. She'd make a good mother. If only Neutemoc would start seeking a husband for her. Unlikely, given his present state of mind.
"The wards?" I asked. For, after all, it was the only reason Neutemoc endured my presence.
Mihmatini smiled, bitterly. "Come and see them," she said.
The last light of the afternoon, golden, already fading towards evening, illuminated the buildings around the courtyard, throwing into sharp relief the painted frescoes of pyramid temples and starconstellations. The buildings should have blazed with the presence of magic; but almost nothing shone.
I ran a hand on the adobe: the magic pulsed weakly under my fingertips like the heartbeat of a dying man.
"They came back?" I asked. "The creatures?"
Mihmatini stood a few paces from the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "I suppose so. The wards kept fading every time I looked, and that's not normal."