But I knew someone who did.

"You cannot be serious." Yaotl's lips had thinned to a harsh line, the same colour as heart's blood.

"Do you see a better plan?" I asked.

We had left the boy-emperor of Texcoco to make his own way into the palace, no doubt clamouring for an absent Tizoc-tzin. He had looked at me thoughtfully as he left, a gaze that promised something I couldn't quite interpret: another meeting, or a challenge? He had more depths than I could probe currently, and since his protector god was not involved in the ongoing troubles, I was going to leave him well alone for now.

But I had little doubt we would meet again.

We had made our way into the Duality House, where we had found Yaotl having his noon meal. He had invited us to join him, though he surely had to be changing his mind, now that he knew what we were asking for.

Yaotl shook his head. "No. But it's nota"

"Ideal? I think we're well past that stage."

Yaotl sighed. "Fine. I already have all the priests I can spare warding the major temples of the Sacred Precinct. But it's not going to be enough."

"Then what would be?" I asked. "A new Guardian?"

"You don't become Guardian that easily." Yaotl's voice was grave, measured, carefully counting words, not focusing on their meaning. "The rituals of the investiture take time."

In other words, what I had known all along: it would be too late by the time the Duality could intervene. "There has to be a way we can get more than wards," I said. "Their equivalent of living blood." For any other god, it would have taken a human sacrifice: a removal of a heart, a drowning, a stabbing, the offering of a whole life and vessels brimming with blood. After all, the gods were dead, Their blood drained to feed the sun at the beginning of this age, Their own hearts long since torn out and burnt in honour of Tonatiuh the Fifth Sun. Only through living blood could They exercise Their power.

Yaotl grimaced. His eyes, wandering, fell on Teomitl; he stopped then, stared at the fresco behind Teomitl, which depicted the Fifth Sun rising from His pyre. "Wait here," he said, and was out of the room before either of us could stop him.

When he came back, he had two old priests in tow, a man and a woman who moved in precise, economical gestures. They wore the regalia of high-ranking clerics, a headdress of heron and duck feathers, and black cloaks with a blue hem depicting the fusedlovers symbol of the Duality. The priests looked at Teomitl speculatively for a moment, and then gave Yaotl a curt nod.

Teomitl, for whom patience was an alien word, wasn't about to be cowed, old priests or not. "Well?"

"There is a way," Yaotl said, slowly. "You're not going to like it."

That he said it in such a fashion, with no attempt whatsoever at sarcasm, was possibly the most worrying thing.

"Tell us," Teomitl snapped.

"You mentioned a new Guardian."

"To which you said it wouldn't help."

"They wouldn't have the Duality's powers, no," Yaotl said. "That takes time. The Duality doesn't choose Their agent on a whim. But, symbolically..." He pursed his lips. "Guardians are still the representative of the Duality in this world. The right choice, accompanied by the right rituals, could be the equivalent of a magical statement."

"The right choice," I said, slowly. "I don't understand what you're trying to say."

"Imperial Blood," Yaotl said. "To signify the tie between the Duality and the Fifth World. And a young woman, to remember that the Duality is the source of all life. The creator principle, male and female..."

"I don't understand," Teomitl said.

I did, and I didn't like where this was going. I remembered Ceyaxochitl's late-night confidences, that she had been married once, which had made her into the living symbol of the Duality. "You're jesting. Surelya"

"Of course I'm not jesting." Yaotl's lips curled up in a savage smile, and for a moment he was once more the insolent slave I'd known all my life.

"There is a chain of succession," I said. "Proper forms. You just can't choose a Guardian like this! Youa" I stopped, then, for I'd been able to accuse him of being a mere slave. That would have been a mistake. Here in this room he was not my social inferior, but Ceyaxochitl's assistant, the man who held the order together.

The old priestess spoke up. "Ceyaxochitl-tzin had been watching the young woman for a while. She's impulsive, and untrained, and inexperienced, but all these can be remedied."

"Look," I said, feeling I was fighting against the lake's current in the rainy season. "Ceyaxochitl wasn't young. She made plans for her succession. There is a second-in-command, or someone like this, who's been waiting for years to claim the place. You can't..." You can't just go and give it to my sister, who's never asked for it in the first place.

"Our order will take decisions as it sees fit," the old priestess said, with the same authoritarian tone as Ceyaxochitl in her worst moods. "Our charge is the boundaries of the Fifth World, not politics."

And they were naive if they thought politics didn't apply.

"You don't even know if she's willing."

"Her wishes," the old priest said, firmly, "are the least of our concerns."

Clearly they didn't know Mihmatini at all, to say that. "There has to be someone elsea"

"No." Yaotl's voice was firm. "It has to be a virgin of childbearing years, with magical knowledge, and associated with another virgin of Imperial blood. Can you think of anyone else, Acatl?"

I would have liked to, but no matter how much I racked my brains, I couldn't think of another name. For the sake of the Fifth World...

I made a last attempt to stem the tide. "You do know Teomitl is linked to another god."

The priest sniffed. "To two gods, as a matter of fact. But we're not asking him to be Guardian."

"You're still asking him to be a Guardian's husband," I said.

The priestess looked Teomitl up and down, clearly more for show than for anything else. Her mind seemed to have been made up before she entered the room. "We've discussed it. It's somewhat problematic, but the other benefits outweigh the risks."

The words weren't said, but I could hear them all the same; they would be naming a Guardian with a husband who would become Revered Speaker, master of the Empire's policy. Influence could flow both ways.

Gods, Mihmatini was going to flay us all. "What rituals did you have in mind?" I asked. "Another symbol? A wedding, a coupling?"

Yaotl grinned. "Close enough."

Exactly why I didn't want to go ahead with this. "Yaotl," I said, firmly. "There has to be someone else. I know Teomitl is convenient right nowa"

"It's not a matter of convenience," Yaotl said. "It's a matter of need." His voice was low and fierce, and utterly serious. "If the stardemons are walking among us, then the end has already started. We have to buy time, and we have to buy it now. We're not going to go through all the imperial princes looking for virgins."

How could Yaotl even be sure Teomitl was a virgin?

But my student was sitting very straight, and he hadn't protested; I knew that, if he hadn't, it meant that it was true. "Acatl-tzin," Teomitl said. "We can at least ask her. Yaotl is right, there is too much at stake." He didn't sound wholly happy about that, and no wonder. Quite aside from my personal objections on the matter, Mihmatini was going to tear his head off.

"Look," I said. "It's all good theory, but..." But, the Storm Lord smite me, it was my sister we were talking about, not me or Teomitl. She was no priestess or imperial princess, just a normal girl readying herself for marriage and children. No one had pledged her to the defence of the Fifth World.

Yaotl, Teomitl and the priests were watching me, their faces as expressionless as those of carved statues.

"Acatl-tzin," Teomitl said. "I swear to the gods I'll marry her within the year. No matter what my brother thinks." His face was set in a fierce scowl, moments away from invoking Jade Skirt's presence. "It's the only right thing I could do, anyway."

"I don't want you to do the right thing," I said. "I want her toa" And then I stopped, realising I was making all the decisions for her, that I might have accused Tizoc-tzin, the She-Snake and the rest of the council of endangering the Fifth World through the selfishness of their acts, but, really, was what I was doing any better? It might not have been about power or influence, but I was still placing myself and my blood above the sake of the Fifth World.

"You win," I said with a sigh. "Let's go ask her. But you're doing the talking."

The fleeting grimace on Teomitl's face was a small but satisfactory victory, the only one I was likely to get all day.

We found Mihmatini still in Teomitl's rooms, staring at the frescoes as if she could peel the paint from the walls.

"I was starting to worry about you," she said, getting up. Her gaze descended to my scuffed sandals. "You look like you've been mauled."

"Close," I said.

"I had no idea Tizoc-tzin was so fierce," Mihmatini said, deadpan. She raised her eyes; Yaotl had just entered the courtyard. "And you would be...?"

Yaotl bowed, somewhat perfunctorily. "Who I am doesn't matter much at this juncture."

"I beg to differ," Mihmatini said, somewhat acidly. She puffed her cheeks, apparently considering something. "All right. What is it that you're not telling me?"

I'd never thought I'd actually see Teomitl embarrassed. If he could have turned crimson, he would have. But, as it was, he merely shifted slightly, as if he didn't quite know where to stand. "We, era" He shook his head, and plunged on again. "We need your help."

She was silent for a while. "I see. What wonderful plan has Acatl come up with?"

Teomitl shook his head. "It wasn't his plan. Look, there are stardemons outside the palace..." He trailed off into silence; she let him flounder, without a word.

"How interesting," she said. "So many words to tell me nothing."

Teomitl blushed. I'd never seen such a sheepish expression on his face. "We need to keep them at bay, and, well..." He took a deep breath, started again. "They need to designate a new Guardian. Us. I mean, you, on account of the imperial connection and the virginity..."

Mihmatini raised an eyebrow. I winced, wishing I could look away. I knew that expression all too well.

Teomitl, too, apparently, for he hurriedly got a more coherent explanation of why we needed a new Guardian, and why it needed to be her. "It's symbolic. They need a couple who can stand for the Empire in the eyes of the Duality, and we don't have much time to find one. And, well, Ceyaxochitl had had an eye on you for a while, and thought you might be suitable for the job anyway..."

When Teomitl was finished, Mihmatini was silent again, deep in a dangerous kind of musing, just before she lashed out. She'd never shied from telling me or my brothers exactly what she thought of our heroic acts, and I had no doubt she would.

"I presume you're desperate," Mihmatini said, finally. "If you're coming to ask me."

I could imagine the smile on Yaotl's face without turning around.

"I'm not doing this for pleasure."

"Oh, for the Duality's sake, don't be so serious," Mihmatini said.

"It is a rather serious matter," Teomitl said.

"Most things are." She smiled again, half-amused, half-angry. "But you have no sense of humour, either of you. You should give some thought to working on that, Acatl. It's clearly missing from his education."

"Much as I love your wita"

"I know, I know." She was sober again. "It's not exactly innocuous."

"Most of it was my idea," Yaotl admitted behind me. "If it helps."

Dear gods, we must really have been desperate, as she was saying. Since when had Yaotl owned up to having an opinion of his own? It was more sobering than I'd ever imagined it would be.

"No, it doesn't." Mihmatini's voice was low and dangerous now, as cutting as a jaguar's claws. "Let me make matters clear. I'm not a tool to be used at your convenience, just because there's a need for a well-connected virgin. I'm not a fool either, and I know what you're asking."

"Mihmatinia" Teomitl started.