Ceyaxochitl's eyes focused on me, and they sparkled with something like amusement.

"You will not use that against me," I said, softly.

"Why not?" she said, and paused. "But you are right. Let us put petty quarrels behind us. I did know those men, but I did not kill them."

Liar. Her hands still trembled.

"Then who were they?" I asked.

"The Brotherhood of the Four Ages? Fools, like so many over Colhuacan and the rest of the Empire. Fools who think they can stop the sun in the sky, or summon monsters from the underworld to cause that final earthquake to sweep us away. Sometimes they try to call on Tezcatlipoca Himself, as if it were easy to summon the God of the Smoking Mirror. Fools who think Tezcatlipoca will reward them for their acts when He rules over the Sixth Age as the new Sun."

"Then they were a danger," I said, quietly.

"They? They had no idea what they were dealing with. Between them, they didn't have enough magical talent to fill a copper bowl. They couldn't have summoned a minor monster without making a mess of the ritual."

"Tell me why they died, then."

"I have no idea," Ceyaxochitl said, more calmly. "But this is the truth, Acatl. They could not have summoned anything."

That last sounded sincere, but it did not exonerate her.

"I see," I lied. "They had jade emblems?"

Ceyaxochitl shrugged. "The past Ages of the World. Four pendants, one for each of them. Itlani was their leader: he bore the sign for Four Jaguar, for that is the age in which Tezcatlipoca first reigned."

"He was also the first to die."

She did not answer. She clearly did not want to give me more. I rose, slowly, shaking the stiffness from my legs and back. "Thank you."

Ceyaxochitl did not rise at once, which allowed me to take a good look at the three knives spread out on the table by her side. They had a good edge, and all shone with a peculiar colour. Not green like the shard I had, but an aquamarine hue that was similar.

I laid one hand on the leftmost blade, before she could stop me, and felt the power pulse deep within. The same power as the shard that had killed Huitxic.

Liar.

"You have overstayed your welcome," Ceyaxochitl said, coldly.

I withdrew my hand from the knife.

"What are these knives?" I asked.

"God-touched." Ceyaxochitl would not meet my eyes. "That's all you need to know, Acatl. Now get out of my house."

I left. There would have been no point in talking further with her.

By the time I came back to my temple, I was exhausted. I sent a message to Macihuin, and then spent the rest of the evening making my own offerings of blood to the gods. I could not keep my thoughts from returning to Ceyaxochitl. Three dead warriors: Itlani, Pochta, and then Huitxic, with that obsidian shard in his heart. Obsidian that did not belong to the Wind of Knives, but throbbed like Ceyaxochitl's knives. Three members of a sect worshipping Tezcatlipoca and hoping He would end the world. And the fourth still alive, watched over by Macihuin.

They had been incompetent. I did not think Ceyaxochitl was lying on that point. But it changed nothing. As Guardian, she still might have taken it upon herself to remove them.

My sleep was dark and dreamless, and I woke up to an angry cry.

"Acatl!"

Macihuin's face hovered over me. In the blink of an eye, I was awake and sitting upright on my reed mat.

"What is it?" I asked. Outside, it was still night; I could hear owls hooting to one another. The air smelled of steam-baths and cooked maize.

"He's dead," Macihuin said.

Nayatlan, the last member of the sect, had found the same ending as his brethren; he lay on his back on his reed mat, in the bedroom. He had the same mark as Huitxic on his torso.

I opened up the chest in three swift cuts, and retrieved the obsidian shard in the heart: a shard similar to the one that had killed Huitxic.

Macihuin stood to the side of the mat, his face dark. I held out the bloody shard to him, and he nodded. From the next room came weeping sounds: Nayatlan's wife.