"What did you want to ask?" I said. I stood; for he had not invited me to sit down.

"I have an offer to make you." Nezahual-tzin considered the chocolate in front of him, as if it held the key to the Fifth World.

"An offer?" He made it sound like something illegal. "In exchange for my support?"

He smiled, looking like a younger version of the She-Snake. The Duality take him, he had learnt politics at the She-Snake's knee; not the current one, but his father before him, the man who had forged an insignificant city into a wide-spanning empire. "Don't be a fool, Acatl-tzin. I have enough trouble in Texcoco without adding more."

But of course he'd be interested in having a sympathetic Revered Speaker, one who would respect his place in the Triple Alliance.

"Actually, what I wanted to offer was my assistance in tracking down Xahuia."

"We've already got men after her," I said. I had no doubt he would sacrifice her to further his own ends. He would not have survived for so long, or remained Revered Speaker in his own right and not a vassal of Tenochtitlan, if he had been naive. But I didn't know what his own ends might be.

"Efficiency does not appear to be a quality of your men." He sounded amused. "She's disappeared for four days. Knowing my sister, she's already making other plans, and you won't like them."

"We're doing what we can," I said, stung.

"Of course you are." Nezahual-tzin lounged on the chair looking thoughtful. The smell of incense grew stronger as if he had fanned it himself, prickling my nostrils. "But still, you are not blessed by the Feathered Serpent."

"So you are His agent?" I asked. No point in dancing around each other like fighting jaguars. Diplomacy had never been my strongest quality.

"Perhaps." Nezahual-tzin smiled again. His grey eyes rolled up, revealing eerily white pupils, filled with a single pinpoint of light. I did not back down, having been expecting something like this for a while. Besides, whatever he looked like paled beside star-demons. "I have quite enough power for this, I assure you."

"But I have no idea what you're using it for," I said.

"Fine. Let's be blunt with each other, then. It ill suits me to see the Fifth World endangered. I have vested interests in seeing who becomes Revered Speaker, I will confess, but being torn apart by star-demons is not part of my plans, now or in the future."

Everything about him sounded or looked older than he was. I couldn't be sure if being Revered Speaker had aged him, or if Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent, was indeed speaking through him. Either way, he worried me. I could deal with Teomitl's brash innocence, but with Nezahual-tzin I kept thinking I was speaking to a spoiled adolescent, but he wasn't one. He had probably never been.

"And you're offeringa"

"You know true sight," Nezahual-tzin said. "You've probably used it."

"Of course." It was one of the rituals anyone could use without being a devotee of the Feathered Serpent, not one of the godtouched mysteries.

"There is another ritual." Nezahual-tzin's voice dropped a fraction, echoing as if through a great cavern. "A deeper, more ancient one from the Second Sun, of which the true sight is but a faint remembrance."

The Second Sun had been the Age of Quetzalcoatl, presided by the Feathered Serpent in all His glory until the Smoking Mirror, Quetzalcoatl's eternal enemy, had changed mankind into chattering spider-monkeys. "That's what you want to do? If it was that simplea"

"Oh, no, it's not that simple." Evening had come and Nezahualtzin's teeth shone white in the gathering darkness. Slaves moved to light the braziers, the smell of charcoal overwhelming that of copal for a brief moment. "The Feathered Serpent does not require human blood, but he does ask for penance, and preparation."

"Fasting, and meditation," I said. "I'm not totally ignorant."

"Good," Nezahual-tzin said. He pushed the cup of chocolate aside. "A full night's vigil is what is usually required, from the emergence of the Evening Star until the Morning Star's dawn."

Another way of telling me he needed my answer now, or we would have to wait another day to track down Xahuia.

Teomitl had not trusted him, but Teomitl's judgment was hardly impeccable. Still...

"I'm not your enemy, Acatl-tzin," Nezahual-tzin said. "I assure you."

"You..." He was a politician; a born liar. "I can't trust you." The words were out of my mouth before I could think.

He looked at me, his eyes rolling up again in that eerie way. Had he been Tizoc-tzin, I'd already have been on my way to the imperial cells but instead he said nothing. Silence spread in the room, grew oppressive.

"Nezahual-tzin..."

"No, I understand your reluctance. But understand, Acatl-tzin, as long as Xahuia is loose in Tenochtitlan, I am at risk. I am her countryman; worse, her brother. If she is accused of destructive sorcery, then..."

"I shouldn't think your reputation was so bad."

"It has been better," Nezahual-tzin, with not a trace of humour. "As you said to the pup, I know who to sacrifice, and when. Xahuia has done her time."

I wasn't sure whether to admire his frankness, or to despise him for his calculations. I said the first thing which came to mind. "You underestimate Teomitl."

"Perhaps." He did not sound convinced. The ghostly serpent behind him swayed in a rustle of feathers. "But that is beside the point. Will you take my help, Acatl-tzin, if only on this?"

It wasn't safe. Quite aside from the fact that I didn't trust him or his motives, there was also the question of his allegiance. He was of the Triple Alliance, but not Mexica, and Tizoc-tzin would seize on any association between us to make me look worse in the eyes of the Court. I ought to have refused him. I ought to have walked away from whatever he proffered, trusted my instincts and let Yaotl's men continue the search. But the Duality was weak, and the Southern Hummingbird had retreated to safer climes and could not help us any longer.

"Only on this," I said.

His lips curled up for a smile, revealing teeth like the fangs of a snake. "Good."

Night had fallen by the time I exited Nezahual-tzin's chambers, and my fatigue was worsening. My stomach yawned in my body like the blind, gaping mouth of a beast; and the world around me was not as steady as it had once been. I stopped by a carved pillar to catch my breath, waiting for the colours to return to sharpness and the wave of dizziness to pass.

There was little time left. I could rest later; what I needed now was an audience with the She-Snake.

I took the time to shed my blood for the Fifth Sun, to comfort Him in his journey across the night sky, and then detoured through some nobleman's kitchens, to snatch maize and peppers from a passing slave. After that, I headed back to the other side of the palace.

It stood wreathed in darkness, a counterpart to Tizoc-tzin's chambers. The plaintive music of a bone flute wafted from above, like an offering to the Heavens, an unceasing prayer for our continued existence.

The platform was deserted, and so were the chambers behind the entrance-curtain, the only smell that of old incense congealing in the burners. No one stopped me as I stepped through the remnants of a feast, my feet crunching on crumbs of fried food, and torn reed-mats.

The She-Snake sat in the central courtyard, on a coarse reed mat, listening to the music. He dressed in unrelieved black once more, his face a clearer patch in the shadows, his eyes closed, his hands unclenched in his lap.

The clatter of my sandals on the stone floor made him look up. The music quivered, and then stopped as the slave threw a glance at the She-Snake, who nodded, gravely, as if my entrance were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

"My Lord..." I said.

He shook his head. "No need to apologise, Acatl. It's a beautiful night for an interview, isn't it?"

Overhead were the stars, unclouded, the blinking eyes of monsters, the elbows and joints of they who would tear the world apart. Overhead was the Moon, the incarnation of a vengeful, angry goddess who stirred in Her underground prison.

"I don't think so," I said.

"A pity." The She-Snake nodded, gravely. "Leave us, will you?" he asked the slave, who bowed in return, and left us alone in the courtyard.

The She-Snake did not move, sitting tall and straight on his mat, as regal as if he had been Revered Speaker himself, waiting for me to speak up. The air was cold and crisp, like the breath of the lake at dawn.

"I come because I have no choice," I said, finally. "I have questionsa"

He raised a hand, not unkindly. "Priests always have questions, Acatl. Whatever god you serve, you seek and hoard knowledge like jade or turquoise."

It sounded half like a reproach, but I did not rise to the bait. There was too much at stake. "You haven't been exactly enthusiastic about helping me before," I said.

The She-Snake raised an eyebrow. "I am a busy man, but not an impolite one. You can't hope to come to me with any petty requests you might have, and to have me jump up to see that your needs are met."

The words came fast and smooth, with barely any pause in his breath. I couldn't believe any of them. He was too much at ease, as if he had been expecting this conversation all along. "I see. And now that I'm here..."

"I have time," the She-Snake said. He looked up, at the night sky. "Thanks to your trick with the Duality, we have plenty of time left."

"It wasn't a trick."

"Ask Quenami." The She-Snake's face was expressionless, but he sounded amused. "I very much doubt it's on his list of authorised behaviours, even in the absence of a Revered Speaker."

"Quenami is a fool," I said.

The She-Snake nodded gravely. "We can agree on that, if nothing else. Was that the only question you had, Acatl?"

He made me feel like a child, caught in something much larger than myself a like a fish on the ground, twitching and gasping while land creatures ran effortlessly. "Tell me about Tizoc-tzin," I said.

He watched me, for a while. "I could tell you many things about Tizoc. What is it you want to know, exactly?"

"I don't want to influence you."

He laughed; a small, joyless bark. "Believe me, nothing you say will influence me one way or the other. Am I not the supreme judge of Tenochtitlan?"

I knew that; and I also knew what Axayacatl-tzin had told me, that I could not trust him under any circumstances. But did I have any choice? My little "trick" with the Duality, as he called it, would only hold for a time, and I wasn't sure Tizoc-tzin could do as he wanted and call an election here and now. The council had sounded much too preoccupied with their own lives, as if they already knew that whoever was elected Revered Speaker wouldn't be able to protect them. "Tell me. Does Tizoc-tzin have the Southern Hummingbird's favour?"

The She-Snake looked at me for a while. It didn't look as though he had anticipated that particular question. "Probably not," he said. "Are you wondering whether he would be able to channel Huitzilpochtli's powers into the Fifth World?"

If I went ahead, if I spoke my mind on this, then I would move from healthy scepticism into outright treason. "Yes," I said.

The She-Snake did not speak for a while. "I don't know. Quenami would be better placed to answer that question than I. Tizoc is older than Axayacatl was, and he was never the greatest of warriors, or the most fervent of believers in the Southern Hummingbird's might."

"Ia" I said. I kept expecting something to happen, guards to burst out, macuahitl swords at the ready, to arrest me for sedition.

As if guessing my thoughts, the She-Snake smiled. "There is only darkness to hear us, Acatl. I don't think you're worrying about the right thing here."

"The preservation of the Fifth World?"

"Quenami is selfish and arrogant, but no fool. He wouldn't back a candidate if he didn't have some plan for making sure of his own safety. He'll know some ritual, or some other trick to make sure that the star-demons remain where they are."

"But it's nota" It wasn't meant to go that way. He was not supposed to cheat. "It's not a game. You can't fix the rules as you please."

"Tizoc wants his due," the She-Snake said. "He's waited most of his adult life for the Tturquoise-and-Gold Crown, ever since he was passed over in favour of Axayacatl. He was promised this by his own brother."

And he was acting like a child denied a toy. Manatzpa was right; he did not have the stature to become Revered Speaker. I took a deep breath, and spoke the greater of two treasons. "The councilmen's deaths..."

If he had nodded, I wouldn't have believed him. But he merely looked troubled, as if I had raised a disturbing possibility he hadn't considered. "I don't know," he said. "But I wouldn't be surprised."

I couldn't trust him, I couldn't. He was a consummate actor; he was playing me for a fool.

The She-Snake must have seen some of the hesitation on my face, for he said, "You don't believe me. I hadn't expected you to. It's one thing to know Tizoc-tzin for a conceited, self-aggrandising fool, and another to know his true nature."

"Someone told me he wouldn't dare use magic," I said, but I couldn't remember who had said this to me.

"Even if that were true, his allies have no such scruples. But Tizoc himself would do anything to wear the Turquoise-and-Gold crown. Anything."

Such as summon star-demons himself, and throw the council into a panic so that he could emerge as their saviour? Surely he would not.

"I don't believe you," I said. "You're the only other serious candidate, with the council in disarray and Xahuia in flight. If you're so sure Tizoc-tzin is going to win, why don't you throw your support behind him?"

His lips curled up a fraction. "A matter of principles, I guess you would say."

I didn't believe he had any, but some scrap of self-preservation stopped the words before I could utter them. "Then what are you doing?"

"Swaying the people that matter. Talking to you." He appeared amused, as if at some secret joke. "I will show you something, if you will come with me."

"What?" I asked. "Where?"

"I can't tell you until we are there."

"Then whya"

"Afraid?" He raised an eyebrow again. "Come, Acatl. I have no interest in your death."

I didn't think he would dare, to be honest. A High Priest who vanished after visiting him... It wouldn't be in his favour, no matter how he could disguise it.

I looked at him, and saw nothing in his grey eyes. His face was relaxed and open like a spread-out codex, his skin the colour of polished copper, his traits as inhuman as those of a god. In that moment he looked like the carved images of his father Tlacaelel-tzin, the man who had taken us and turned us from a rabble of uncivilised warriors into a great civilisation.

"I know you won't trust any oath I make by the gods," the SheSnake said. "But if you want to send a messenger to your temple and warn them that you're going with me, please do so. I don't intend to make you disappear."