He seemed a little too eager, a little too easily contemptuous? Something seemed to have changed in him, as in Tizoc-tzin. Perhaps Teomitl was right; perhaps they had pushed back a star-demon, and were waiting for its inevitable return.

Still, they were both planning something. Something large and spectacular, and unpleasant, and I didn't know what.

"What do you want, Quenami?" I asked. The time for subtlety was past, if there had ever been one.

"Merely to know how your investigation was progressing." He smiled again a little too broadly. "And if there was any help I could offer you."

"I don't think so."

"You'd reject a held-out hand?" He frowned. I felt as if he were playing his part not for my benefit, but for that of some other observer, as if he was doing this only so he could say he had gone through the proper procedures.

"I have enough allies combing the palace and the city." Not effectively or with tangible results, but he didn't need to know that.

"I see." His eyes were dark, narrowed slits. "I see. You are... peculiar, Acatl."

"I'm flattered," I said dryly.

He went on, oblivious, "Alone at Court, you stand for the Fifth World, for the continued balance that keeps us whole. Most people are not so self-effacing."

My hands had started to clench into fists; I controlled them with an effort. Compliments had never been Quenami's strength, if he was being so lavish, he wanted something from me.

But I couldn't see what.

"You're unwavering. Dutiful, a loyal servant of the Fifth World."

"I'm sure you have better things to do than sing my praises," I said.

He shook his head. "Don't be so modest. Things are changing at Court, Acatl, and we need people like you at the centre, who will hold to their convictions no matter what. Loyal servants of the Mexica Empire."

There it was, the true sting. "Loyal," I said flatly.

"Aren't you?"

"Of course I am." I said, carefully detaching every word, "I served the previous Revered Speaker, and I will serve the new one, when he is elected. But I won't play in your power-games, Quenami."

"No." He sounded almost regretful. "You're much too wise for that. But you'll continue your investigation, won't you?"

"Someone," I said, barely keeping the irritation from my voice, "is summoning star-demons. I don't intend to sit still while they do." No matter what Tizoc-tzin or Quenami said.

"I see." Why did he look so pleased all of a sudden?

I decided to hit him where it hurt. "What does tar mean to you, Quenami?"

It was a spear thrown in the dark, but somehow it connected. I saw his face tighten, as if at some deeply unpleasant memory. "Nothing," he said, and that was the worst lie I'd heard him utter. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Oh, but he had, and we both knew it. "Tar protects against water," I said, aloud. "It's connected with boats and sacrifices." His face, which had begun to relax, tightened again at the mention of sacrifice. Sadly, it wasn't exactly surprising. Palli had already told me that someone had died in Axayacatl's room. "A councilman went missing," I went on, slowly. "Pezotic. I'm starting to wonder if he's alive at all, Quenami."

His face shifted again. How I wished I could read his expressions, but he had a tight control on them. "What wild tales you spin, Acatl."

It was clear I wouldn't get anything else out of him; not without more evidence. "Why are you here, Quenami?"

He smiled again, about as convincingly as a star-demon. "I told you, Acatl. To offer to assist you."

As if I'd believe him. "Well, I should think I've made my position clear."

Quenami watched me for a while. I got the feeling he was trying to decide how best to handle me. "Yes," he said, finally. "You have made that perfectly clear."

I was saved from thinking up a reply by Teomitl, who entered the courtyard with the brisk step of a warrior on his way to the battlefield. "Acatl-tzin!"

"Ah, I see your student is here. Don't let me stand in the way of your imparting of knowledge," Quenami said. He bowed to Teomitl, much too little to be sincere. Teomitl's eyes narrowed, but he actually managed to retain his self-control, a fact for which I was eternally grateful.

He waited until Quenami was out of the courtyard to speak, though. "I didn't know you were on speaking terms with him."

"I'm not," I said, curtly.

"Then why is he here?"

"That's the problem." Why had he come here? I thought back to the way he'd acted, much too friendly, much too smooth, in a way that even I could see. Either he thought me not worth deceiving anyway, or he was truly in a panic, unable to master himself. "Has anything happened at the palace?"

"Yes," Teomitl said. "But I'm not sure he would know."

"What?" I asked.

He did not answer at once, he was too busy staring at Quenami's retreating back. "Teomitl!" The Duality curse me, was everyone turning into copies of Nezahual-tzin?

"Tizoc-tzin gathered the remaining members of the council yesterday. They're going to vote in two days."

I looked up, into the clear sky. The stars were pinpoints, barely visible unless one knew that they were here. Two days, eh? And three or four more, for the ritual of coronation to take place. Perhaps we had a chance. Perhaps we could stand until then.

My mind came back to Quenami, and to more mundane matters. "He knows about the vote, no question." I thought again on what he had asked me. "He wanted to make sure where I stood."

"And?" Teomitl asked.

"I told him that I would stand by whoever was elected Revered Speaker." As I said this, I thought of the scene I'd seen the previous night. If my worst suspicions were right, then I had just made it clear to Quenami that I was a liability, a man they needed to neutralise, and fast. "We need to go back to the palace."

"Of course," Teomitl said.

"And to see Nezahual-tzin."

Teomitl's face froze. "That's a bad idea, Acatl-tzin."

"He made me an offer I couldn't refuse," I said. I explained, as best as I could, during the time it took us to cross the Sacred Precinct. It was early morning, and the crowds were there as usual, carrying offerings and worship thorns and leading sacrifices to the pyramid temples as if nothing were wrong. I caught sight of a woman with an embroidered cotton skirt who looked up at the Great Temple, her face frozen in cautious hope. Her earlobes were bloody, and she was whispering the words of a prayer.

As I expected, Teomitl's first reaction to my story was hardly enthusiasm. "I see. And you believed him?"

"I think he's honest." I was suddenly glad I hadn't had time to get into the details of my meeting with the She-Snake. "As long as it suits him to be, of course."

"I'm not surprised," Teomitl said. "He thinks too much of himself, that one."

"You seem to have developed a liking for him," I said, dryly.

"I've seen enough."

"From one meeting?"

"You forget," Teomitl said. "He was here, for a while."

They were much the same age; but somehow, it had never occurred to me that they could have met. From Teomitl's sombre tone, it must have been more than that. "You were still a child when he left Tenochtitlan, and so was he. People change."

Teomitl shook his head. "I doubt he has."

Clearly I wasn't going to be able to make him change his mind, and I didn't feel like arguing at this juncture. What I needed to do was understand who was doing what in this palace a and fast, before I stopped being able to work out things at all.

One of Nezahual-tzin's men met us at the entrance of the palace, by the red-painted columns, and directed us, not towards the boyemperor's chambers, but to the sweatbaths.

We found Nezahual there in one of the bigger baths, seated on one of the low stone benches. Three attendants stood by his side. The firebox at his feet was already warm, and the feathers of his headdress drooped in the growing heat. His face was mottled, a dark shadow against the vapour, and his arms and legs bore the wheals of the rushes and of the blades of cutting grass the attendants had struck him with: thin raised welts, with blood barely pearling up through the broken skin.

His eyes were closed, and he didn't move when we came in. "Ah, Acatl."

"Impressive," I said. He was deep into his meditation, his eyes still closed; but obviously he saw on another plane than the Fifth World.

"A trick, as the She-Snake would call them." His voice was deprecating. "I see the pup is with you."

I didn't have to turn round to guess Teomitl's hands would have clenched. "Let's try to be civil here," I said, ignoring the fact that I was talking to one Revered Speaker and a man who could very well become one in the future. "As you said, the Fifth World is at stake. Whatever quarrels you have can wait."

Teomitl glowered at Nezahual-tzin, but he said nothing.

"I'm surprised to find you here," I said. "Sweatbaths don't belong to Quetzalcoatl." Several gods and goddesses took an interest in those places of purifications, not least among Whom was Tezcatlipoca, the Smoking Mirror, Quetzalcoatl's eternal enemy.

Nezahual-tzin smiled. The vapour swirled around him, coalesced into the shape of a huge serpent, so much clearer than the one I'd seen in his rooms that I could count every feather, every jewelled scale on the huge body wrapped around the boy-emperor. "Enemy territory is where you prove yourself, where you're most sharply defined against what you're not, what you'll never be."

"Interesting," I said. "Nezahual-tzin, there is something I need to ask you about Tizoca"

He shook his head. "After the ritual. It can wait."

I wasn't sure it could.

"We're not here to talk." Nezahual-tzin leant back against the wall of the sweatbath. The serpent leant with him, growing larger and larger, its outline sinking into the wall, gaining colour and texture until it seemed a living fresco.

"Into the place of the fleshless, away from the abode of life You came, You descended Into the region of mystery For the precious bones, for men to inhabit the earth..."

The serpent was growing larger; the world was receding, fading into insignificance, the city a child's map, spread on the ground far, far below us, the Fifth Sun so close we might touch it.

"You came, You ascended Into the gardens of the gods, into the place of the Duality You came, You made them whole The broken bones, made whole through Your penance..."

Abruptly, everything faded out and I came to in the vapourfilled room, the unpleasant prickle of an obsidian blade against my back.

The attendants had retreated, Nezahual-tzin had risen, regal and wrathful. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You can't possiblya" Teomitl said.

I turned, slowly. Three warriors stood with their macuahitl swords pointed at me; and Quenami was with them, smiling from ear to ear. "I don't understand," I said, though I did perfectly. My time had just run out. "Teomitl is right. You have no authority."

"Oh, I don't do this on my authority," Quenami said. He smiled even more widely. I hadn't thought that was possible, but the son of a dog managed it. "Tizoc-tzin is the one who gave the order."