Chapter Five: Among the Ghosts

Chapter Five: Among the Ghosts

There was an obsidian door in the palace’s basement that few could walk through.

When night fell, Tlacaelel and the red-eyed guards led me to it with haste. I walked down shallow stairs dimly lit by torches on the walls, but quickly realized neither my escort nor consorts were following me. I peeked over my shoulder to find them frozen at the threshold, unwilling—or perhaps unable—to get past it.

“They will not follow you down there, Iztac.”

I froze as Eztli soundlessly stepped out of the shadows below me. How could she sneak up on me so easily? She had never been that quiet.

“Do I frighten you?” Eztli chuckled in amusement, the light of torches reflecting on her crimson eyes. “Come on, Iztac, it’s just me.”

Are you? I thought as I studied her. My dear friend smiled at me from below, a ghost rising from the darkness. Are you still in there, Eztli?

I said nothing as she offered me her hand. I stared at it in hesitation, before taking her fingers into my own. To my surprise, her skin was no longer cold, but tepid enough to pass for that of a living woman.

She has fed, I realized. On whom?

“Come,” Eztli said. Her touch was as gentle as a lover’s caress. “I’ll guide your steps.”

I gulped as we walked down the stairs. The torches offered little reprieve. The shadows were so thick in the palace’s depths that not even light appeared capable of clearing them. My steps echoed on the stone, while Eztli’s feet made no sound when they touched the floor.

“I’ve heard you saved my mother from a miserable life.” Eztli’s smile faded away. “Do you remember Chimalli, Iztac?”

“Your fiancé?” I asked. I suddenly realized I had no idea how the rest of our village fared since I became the emperor.

“Former fiancé.” Eztli’s tone was colder than her fingers. “He was visiting me when the red-eyed priests came for our family. Do you know what he did when they ordered us to come with them to the palace, while making no secret that we wouldn’t return alive?”

I clenched my jaw. I could guess the answer. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Eztli confirmed with a hint of bitterness. “Chimalli was armed, young, and strong. But he did nothing. Said nothing. He just watched as the priests took us away, knowing full well we wouldn’t return. He was a coward.”

The people of Acampa never moved a finger to help me. Why would they treat Eztli’s family any differently when faced with their gods’ judgment?

“While you, Iztac, talked down a Nightlord to save Mother. A woman you hated.” When Eztli looked at me, her lovely face beamed with happiness. “You are a brave man.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks. At this moment, I thought Eztli—my Eztli—had returned from the dead.

“Eztli, are you...” I squinted at her, trying to find the right words. “In there?”

“What do you mean?” she asked me in confusion.

“Are you...” Possessed? Maddened? “You do not act like yourself.”

Eztli stopped midway down the stairs, her grin faltering. “How would you expect me to act after dying?”

Her words hit me with the strength of a slap to the face. “I...” My voice died in my throat as I looked down at the stone floor. “I’m so sorry, Eztli...”

“No, no, I didn’t mean...” I gasped as Eztli’s lukewarm hand moved to my cheek, her forehead pressing against mine. “Don’t be sad, Iztac. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.”

“Eztli, this...” My voice broke in my throat. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t defied them, you... and your father...”

“No, no, Iztac, don’t say that...” She caressed my cheek. “Don’t you see? I’m not sad. I’m better.”

“As a...” A monster? A bat? A fraud?

“A Nightkin,” Eztli said upon letting me go. Her smile revealed the sharp fangs behind her lips. “I died a human, and I was brought back as a scion of the gods. It was an even trade.”

You’re not a goddess, nor even the shadow of one, I thought, though I didn’t have the strength to say so out loud. Eztli offered me absolution from my failure. She was trying to comfort me, even with lies.

“As for Father, he’s not gone.” Eztli put a hand on her chest, where her heart should have been. “He’s asleep inside me now. So long as I exist, so will he. I can tell. He’s happy where he is.”

I wasn’t sure Guatemoc would agree, but... I was sure of something now. In spite of her transformation, embers of the old Eztli remained alive inside the Nightkin she had become. Maybe I could find a way to revive them in the Land of the Dead Suns.

I didn’t have more time to wonder. The air grew heavier inside the coiling stairs, and Eztli tensed up. An invisible force called us down from below, and it was growing impatient.

“Let’s go,” Eztli said as she gently led me into the abyss. “The old bats are here.”

I squinted at her insolence. “The old bats?”

“I said the great bats,” Eztli lied mischievously. “You should be more careful with your words, Iztac.”

I held my breath as we reached the Nightlords’ lair at the bottom: a chamber with a hundred-foot tall ceiling and porphyry walls. The heat was almost unbearable. Pits of blackened, boiling tar surrounded a wide dais of basalt with four alcoves at its back. Obsidian statues of the Nightlords occupied each of them. I couldn’t access them; Eztli carried me to a ledge overseeing the tar pits and facing that strange shrine of death.

The Nightlords’ statues were cowled and hooded, their faces hidden behind the same masks they wore at the Scarlet Moon ceremony. Their ruby eyes glowed brightly in the darkness at the same time a purple, ghostly flame began to burn on the dais, illuminating the room. I was immediately reminded of my own Teyolia burning in the Land of the Dead Suns.

“Kneel, Iztac Ce Ehecatl.”

Although I tried to keep my composure, I couldn’t help but freeze in dread. The Jaguar Woman’s voice came out of her totem. The statues’ obsidian meshed with the shadows and unleashed a terrible pressure upon the room. The Nightlords were here; if not in the flesh, then in spirit.

I swallowed my pride and obeyed the order. The Nightlords wanted to see me cowed; I would play along for now.

“Welcome to the Abode of Darkness, my sweet emperor.” Yoloxochitl’s voice, coming from her flower-faced statue, filled me with even greater unease than her sister’s. “Thank you, my daughter, for bringing him to us.”

“You honor me, mother of darkness,” Eztli said with deep reverence. Only I noticed the thin smile of distaste she hid beneath her hair.

Sugey’s eyes flared into the dark brighter than all the others. “You foolish sister of ours,” she said, her voice brimming with reproach. “What madness crossed your mind to select a Nightkin for a consort? Her Teyolia is a gasping pit of darkness, not a fire that kindles the night. She is unfit for the altar.”

I kept my head down but listened carefully. It sounded like the other Nightlords were not too happy with Yoloxochitl’s choice to claim Eztli.

“What surprises me is that you could uplift this peasant at all,” Iztacoatl’s statue said. “Not to mention bind her to the ritual.”

“Her blood comes from a purebred stock,” Yoloxochitl defended herself. “The priests assured me as much.”

A purebred stock? That confused me. Did the Nightlords require specific criteria to embrace mortals into their undead brotherhood? Why would Eztli fit them? I glanced at her, but her expression remained unperturbed.

“Purebred or not, we must replace her,” Sugey stated imperiously. “Father–”

“Will have no cause to complain,” the Jaguar Woman cut in. The others immediately ended their bickering when she spoke. “The Scarlet Moon has risen and waned for centuries. Our magic is old, with roots as strong as those of an ancient tree. It will take more than a hurdle to disrupt the river of power. Neither can we replace the girl. Things will proceed as they must.”

I noted every word, every sentence. Though I didn’t understand them all, perhaps the Parliament could shed more on the Nightlords’ meaning. I had the gut feeling this would be important.

“However, my dear Yoloxochitl, Sugey is right,” the Jaguar Woman said. I could have sworn her ruby eyes stared at Eztli directly. “This girl’s lack of Teyolia puts a drain on our covenant. This year will require more tributes to make up for the imbalance.”

“I expected as much,” Yoloxochitl replied with what could pass for a sigh. “How many heads will we require, my sister? I shall provide them with haste.”

“There is no need to bleed your territory yet, sister.” The Jaguar Woman’s eyes glowed in my direction. “Iztac Ce Ehecatl.”

I tensed up. I knew she was about to ask something terrible of me. “Yes?”

“We have graciously forgiven your insolence and allowed your dearest friend a place among the gods.” The Jaguar Woman made it sound like I should thank her for it. “For this kindness, we request ten thousand sacrifices by the time of the Summer Solstice.”

The number echoed in the chamber like a curse. I remembered my predecessor’s murder on the altar, and tried to imagine it happening ten thousand times.

“Ten thousand?” I repeated, hoping I had misheard.

“Ten thousand,” the Jaguar Woman confirmed mercilessly. “A trivial amount.”

I gulped at her cruelty. My entire home village welcomed less than two hundred inhabitants; all the people I had known for my entire life wouldn’t be a drop in the bucket of blood. Ten thousand lives meant nothing to these parasites.

“Where am I to find so many sacrifices in six months?” I tried to hide my disgust and horror, but failed.

“You are the master of our armies, are you not?” Iztacoatl asked with a dark chuckle. “Methinks you should bloody your sword, in more ways than one.”

“By our covenant, the herd of Yohuachanca is ours to cull as we see fit,” the Jaguar Woman reminded me coldly. “It matters not to us where the blood comes, so long as it flows. Fetch us tributes from foreign lands, or reap them from the people of this empire.”

“Worry not, Iztac,” Yoloxochitl whispered reassuringly. “You can count on my help, if you require it.”

That sounded far more threatening than it had any right to be.

“My chosen consort will assist you in planning further campaigns for spring and summer, Emperor Iztac,” Sugey said. “The Three-Rivers in the north are weak. The jungles to the south also abound with tributes.”

“I have consulted your future, Iztac Ce Ehecatl.” The Jaguar Woman’s eyes glowed brightest in the dark. “Your reign will be an age of darkness, where Yohuachanca’s black sun shall rule absolute over the bloodsoaked lands. I have no doubt you will deliver... for you know the consequences of displeasing us.”

I clenched my fists, but did not argue further. “I do.”

“Then go forth,” the Jaguar Woman said with a dismissive tone. “Our consorts will assist you in your task, and we shall provide you with our guidance on the sunsets to come. For the nights to come will be long.”

On that, we agreed.

The four statues’ eyes stopped glowing, as did the flame on the dais. My so-called masters had left, and the pressure in the room with them. How far did this power extend? Could they contact me from all across the empire and beyond? Could I use these statues to track them down?

All of these questions could wait. The task before me would prove far greater and ghastlier.

Ten-thousand sacrifices. The number echoed in my head as I rose back to my feet. Ten thousand souls to send to the altar. It wasn’t enough for the Nightlords to threaten my life; they wanted to make me an accessory to their crimes.

“Worry not, Iztac,” Eztli said as we ascended away from the Abode of Darkness and back to the palace above. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to reach that tally.”

“That’s what worries me,” I muttered under my breath. I felt sick just thinking about it.

“We’ll have to play along,” Eztli replied absentmindedly. “At least until the time is right.”

I squinted at her. “The time for what?”

Eztli smirked enigmatically before stopping in front of a torch. “Check this out,” she said before pressing a stone right beneath the light. I heard a clicking sound. The wall then slid to the left, revealing another staircase. “Amazing, is it not?”

“What is this?” I wondered in amazement. “A secret passage?”

In short, Lady Sigrun played the game of politics and expected her daughter to represent her interests.

“I assumed as much,” I replied with a nod. “I shall approach them.”

“Mother and daughter might prove useful... and good company,” the Parliament said. “As for the Nahual, she is weak and gullible. Set your claws on her. Her powers have yet to awaken, but depending on her Tonalli they might prove useful to you both in the waking world and this one.”

“Another Nahual?” Xolotl’s head perked up in interest. “Is she dog-faced?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I cannot tell.”

“I will teach you ways to awaken her animal spirit.” The Parliament trembled slightly, the skulls rearranging their position on the pillar’s surface. “As for the amazon queen...”

A skull shifted in front of all the others, its gaze baleful. I immediately recognized it: my predecessor, Nochtli the Fourteenth.

“My successor, heed my words,” the skull said with a deep, imperious voice. “It is I who brought Chilam to its knees through strength and guile, but I could not have done so alone. Not without sweet betrayal.”

“Chikal’s?” I guessed, my fists clenching. “She’s a traitor?”

“Is it betrayal to sacrifice others to save one’s kin?” Nochtli’s skull shrugged. “Chilam had a twin sister, the city of Balam. Like siblings, they were friends and rivals depending on the moon’s turn. When Yohuachanca came for them both, they gathered an alliance of lesser tribes to oppose us. Too few answered their call. Queen Chikal alone understood the futility of the fight.”

“Oh...” Xolotl chuckled, his tongue licking his fangs. “I love where this is going.”

I didn’t, but I could guess. “She betrayed her sister city to ensure her own people’s safety.”

“Yes,” my predecessor confirmed. “On the night of a critical battle, she approached me with an offer: her troops would open the doors of Balam and Chilam would surrender. In exchange, her people were to be spared from the blood sacrifices.”

Since Chikal became my consort and Chilam became a tributary of the empire, then it meant they struck a deal.

“I would have taken her to my bed as concubine, but Nightlord Sugey wanted to taste her queenly blood,” Nochtli declared with a hint of regret. “Chikal was to serve as my successor’s consort, bound for the altar. She did not flinch at the price. Do you understand what this means?”

I nodded sharply. “Chikal was ready to sacrifice her life, her pride and honor, if it meant keeping her city safe,” I said. “If the Nightlords threaten her sisters in Chilam, she will sell me out without hesitation. She doesn’t believe the empire can fall. At least, not yet.”

“Indeed.” Nochtli’s skull merged back with the others, and the hundred voices of the Parliament spoke again. “Loyalty built on strength and fear is fickle. The Nightlords use the threat of blood sacrifices to enforce order among their vassals; they must provide tributes from outside their borders, or surrender their own people.”

The same choice they offered me tonight... “What am I to do with the sacrifices?” I asked with a frown. “Ten thousand souls... it boils my veins just to think of it.”

Xolotl snorted. “Half as many fall down into the Underworld each day. You will manage.”

“Ten thousand is a drop in the ocean of blood Yohuachanca sheds each day,” the Parliament rasped. “Such a request is far from unusual from the Nightlords.”

How chilling to think ten thousand tributes were considered a routine demand...

“If you require this sacrifice to destroy a greater evil, then you should pay it without hesitation,” the Parliament continued. “Follow the Nightlords’ commands. It will buy you time to continue your training.”

“You suggest I sacrifice others for my own sake?” I didn’t like that answer at all. “Wouldn’t that make me the same as the Nightlords?”

“You will sacrifice thousands to free millions from death and enslavement,” the Parliament replied coldly. “War offers honor and opportunities. A successful campaign will bring allies to your side. The chaos of conflict can bring the empires’ enemies out of the woods and into your embrace.”

I could see the calculus behind the Parliament’s suggestion. But I did not appreciate it. “I feel like the citizens of Acampa,” I said grimly. “Averting my eyes from evil so they could continue their life in peace.”

“Must we remind you of what you told us the night we met?” The Parliament’s thousand eyes looked down on me. “That you would sacrifice anything and everything for success?”

My jaw tightened. “I did not forget.”

“But you do not yet understand what your vow requires.” The Parliament’s skulls let out a death rattle, the song of death. “Forget guilt. Forget remorse. Forget the grace of men and gods. No matter what crimes you commit, they are nothing in the face of Yohuachanca’s cruelty. No price is too high to topple the Blood Pyramid.”

Do not trust the skulls, the wind’s warning echoed into my mind. They keep secrets from you.

Now... the Parliament helped me much, and not all secrets were kept to harm others. Assuming the Yaotzin was telling the truth, my predecessors might have been keeping information from me simply because I wasn’t ready to learn it yet. A healthy dose of suspicion would keep me alive, but too much would poison my mind.

However, I was starting to see a trend in the Parliament’s advice: since they were long dead, they had nothing left to lose anymore. They would happily watch half the world burn if it meant bringing down Yohuachanca’s undead elite.

I should learn to hide my thoughts better, for the Parliament appeared to read them easily. “You think us too harsh,” my predecessors said. “But you have only witnessed a glimpse of the Nightlords’ cruelty. In time, you will reach the same conclusion. Victory justifies everything.”

I prayed in my heart they were wrong... but my head knew better. I turned my head towards the Underworld’s faded sun and its purple tears. There lay the power to bring down the Nightlords. If I could seize it before the Summer Solstice, I could avoid paying that sick tribute for appearance’s sake.

“You said I must journey to the Kingdom of Mictlan to seize the dead sun’s embers, my predecessors,” I said, pointing at the spot where the purple sun’s light hit the ground. “Can you guide my way, Xolotl?”

“I only guide the dead,” Xolotl replied with a snort. “Besides, the journey takes four years.”

I squinted at the god. “I do not have four years.”

“Well, it takes four years to reach Mictlan if you take the safe path.” Xolotl chuckled to himself. “You can simply fly your way to it. I daresay you might make the journey in a single night, though I do not guarantee your survival.”

“I will take my chances.” I would shoulder any ordeal. “But must I do the journey each night?”

“Once you have reached a place in the Underworld, we will guide thy soul back to it,” the Parliament of Skulls replied reassuringly. “You must seek an audience with the god Mictlantecuhtli, Mictlan’s ruler. Petition him for access to both the sun’s embers and the gate to the lower levels.”

Xolotl exploded in laughter. “Fat chance with that, mortal,” he taunted me. “Lord Mictlantecuhtli is bitter and cruel. The more obstacles he puts between a mortal and their desire, the happier he becomes. I know, he forces souls to wander for four years before they can even reach their final rest.”

“Mictlantecuhtli is likely to demand an impossible price,” the Parliament conceded. “But his queen, Mictecacihuatl, is kinder; for she was mortal once. She might be able to lessen her husband’s demands to something reasonable if you appeal to her, Iztac.”

“Like hunting down a dinosaur spirit,” Xolotl mused. “Those are such a hassle.”

I regretted not paying too much attention to religion classes. I should spend some time in the daylight researching the world’s past. Still, I remembered Mictlantecuhtli’s stories vividly. When the gods tried to recreate humanity in its fifth incarnation by using the bones of the fourth, he jealously hoarded them for himself. The god-in-spirit Quetzalcoatl barely managed to pilfer the bones and escape Mictlantecuhtli’s wrath.

“Would he deliver on his end of the bargain?” I asked with skepticism.

“A god is bound by his word,” the Parliament replied. “Mictlantecuhtli will complain and haggle, but if you fulfill his request, he will eventually concede.”

Good. It would crush me to make such a long journey for nothing. “Is there any other spell that can help me on this quest, my predecessors?”

“Alas not,” the Parliament apologized. Thankfully, they quickly suggested an alternative. “However, Mictlan is home to more than dead mortals. Forgotten gods and lost sorcerers call it their home. They can teach you magic forbidden to us. Queen Mictecacihuatl teaches the Doll spell to those she favors, and the mage Huehuecoyotl grants knowledge of the Veil. Consult with them on arrival.”

“You’re sending him to meet with the old coyote?” Xolotl chuckled. “The poor lad...”

I crossed my arms and glared at the dog god. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Xolotl lied. “Nothing at all.”

“Huehuecoyotl was a Nahualli of great power, a trickster; albeit the good-natured kind,” the Parliament explained before marking a long pause, heavy with meaning. “Expect to be pranked.”

That didn’t sound so bad... I already bore many humiliations. I could survive an undead prankster. I thanked the Parliament and Xolotl for their wisdom and prepared to transform into my owl-form, when I remembered something.

“One last question,” I said. “Have you ever heard of a Tlacatecolotl called Ichtaca?”

A tense silence fell upon the world around me.

The flames in the Parliament’s eyes weakened like candles blown by the wind. Xolotl tensed up. His mocking grin turned into an expression of utter seriousness. His gaze hardened into a glare.

“Why?” he asked, his tone dangerous.

At this moment, I immediately realized that answering honestly would spell my doom. “I have met someone who encountered them in the living world,” I said a half-truth. “I wondered if she could prove an ally.”

Xolotl did not move an inch. He watched me unblinkingly, searching for any hint of a lie on my face. I thanked my Tonalli for being an owl; it let me hide my unease better.

“Listen well, Iztac, for I will not repeat myself,” Xolotl said. “For the sake of chewing you night after night, I will give you a free piece of advice.”

I froze in silence. Xolotl never called me by my name.

“Do not mention that woman’s name in Mictlan, ever,” Xolotl growled. “If you do, Lord Mictlantecuhtli will have your bones ground into dust. Remember when I told you most Tlacatecolotl answer slights with curses and calamities? Ichtaca lives up to the tales. She is a thief of souls who has committed terrible crimes against the living and the dead.”

I gulped. Necahual’s memories did not paint a flattering portrait of my mother, but to hear a god speak with such gravitas... “What crimes?”

“Hideous ones best left unspoken.” Xolotl shook his head. “The demoness is unwelcome in Mictlan, but she travels between worlds as she pleases. I’ve heard she makes her lair in the Land of the Dead Suns’ second level, beneath our feet. If you are smart, you will avoid her.”

“Xolotl is wise in this matter,” the Parliament said. “We have heard much of this Ichtaca, and nothing good.”

I kept my mouth shut. I was dying to know more, but my guides’ reaction spooked me greatly. What did my mother do to deserve such scorn? Though if she could travel between worlds, then it meant she was still alive somewhere. Should I disobey and look for her?

I was emperor after all... perhaps I could use imperial resources to investigate her from afar? Discreetly of course.

“I see,” I said. I buried my curiosity in my heart, at least for now. “Thank you for your insight.”

Xolotl shook his head before leaving to take care of undead newcomers without a word of goodbye. He did not believe me and thought me a fool.

“You should go now, Iztac,” the Parliament advised me. “The night is long, but shorter than you think.”

Indeed. The Nightlords would not wait, and I had no time to waste.

I called upon my Tonalli and began to shapeshift. My Teyolia burned with eldritch flames and its magic twisted my body. Feathers grew over my skin and bones. My arms stretched into wings and my fingers into talons. The shadows cleared before my eyes.

I was a man an instant and an owl-demon the next, strong and mighty.

“We wish thee good luck,” the Parliament said. “May you find success in Mictlan.”

I thanked them with a nod before expanding my wings. A mighty gust carried me into the air, under the falling rain. I glided on the wind without a sound. Owls were silent hunters, and no one could reach me above the clouds.

I ascended away from the Parliament of Skulls and flew above the Land of the Dead Suns. Yoloxochitl had recalled me before I could enjoy myself a night ago. No leash called me back to the land of the living this time. I would be free to do as I wished for the next few hours.

Mictlan, here I come, I thought while relishing the sensation of the wind brushing against my feathers. I gazed at the faded purple sun on the horizon. Its tears and embers were waiting for me. Even the dawn will be mine.

My first journey among the dead had begun.