Chapter Thirteen: Flowers of Evil

Chapter Thirteen: Flowers of Evil

My heart pounded harder than a drum. My sun-blessed blood had turned to ice within my veins. My fingers had grown numb from the nerve-wracking tension, and I could feel the sweat falling off my forehead and onto Yoloxochitl’s arms.

I was naked in Ingrid’s bed, alone and defenseless with a mad Nightlord holding me against her chest as if she wanted to devour me. I could cut the tension in the air with a sacrificial knife.

How much did she know? How much did she know?

Calm down, Iztac, calm down, I told myself, desperately trying to control my breathing and keep a clear head. Mayhaps she only sensed a slight pulse of my Teyolia. She can’t possibly know about the Underworld, or I would already be bound and caged. I have to assuage her fears without giving anything important away. Say as little as possible–

“Why are you shaking, Iztac?” Yoloxochitl’s arms moved to my chest and held me in an unsettling embrace. Her skin was cold, colder than the Underworld. “Could you be afraid of me?”

Her kind smile unsettled me more than Tlalocan’s terrible flames. At least I knew where to stand with the latter. I could hardly predict what Yoloxochitl thought behind that eerie, pleasant face of hers.

You must speak a half-truth, Iztac, I told myself. If she smells a lie, I am dead.

“I am afraid,” I said, wording my words carefully. “You have been kind to me, and I fear I have done something deserving of your scorn.”

“Oh, my poor child, no, no, do not say that.” Yoloxochitl held me closer to her, my back on her chest, her lips gently kissing my sweat-drenched cheeks. Another man might have found the gesture sensual, even affectionate, but it only made my skin shiver. “Do you not understand, Iztac? You are perfect as you are.”

I let her touch me without reacting much, waiting for it to be over. Yoloxochitl finally released me from her embrace and rose from the bed, her red, flowery dress flowing in her wake like an ethereal veil.

“The fault lies with another, Iztac,” she said with a demure smile. “I was told you liked visiting the imperial gardens.”

With another? My mind worked furiously to decipher the Nightlord’s words. Does she know about the Parliament of Skulls? “Yes.”

“Then let us go for a walk. The dawn is still a good hour away.” She joined her hands and clapped. “Dress your emperor.”

Ingrid and Sigrun immediately walked into the bedroom with imperial clothes. Mother and daughter kept their heads down, avoiding both my gaze and that of Yoloxochitl. The Nightlord must have banished them both from their own chambers to keep me to herself.

Even the highest-ranked servant submits when the master walks in, I thought grimly as my consort and concubine covered my nakedness with a turquoise imperial mantle. Ingrid at least sent me a brief gaze full of worry, though I couldn’t tell if she feared for my safety or her own. Her fate was tied to mine. Her mother wisely acted no different than any slave.

Once she had me clothed like a pretty doll, Yoloxochitl invited me to follow her out of Sigrun’s apartments. Neither Ingrid nor her mother followed us. In fact, I immediately noticed the absence of guards of any sort. A Nightlord had no need for protection, but I took the absence of my usual jailers as a dire warning.

Is she leading me to the altar? I kept thinking as we walked down the palace’s stairs. Yoloxochitl indeed appeared to lead me toward the gardens, but I couldn’t rule out the possibility it was all a trap. The fault lies with another? What does that mean?

“What do you think of this Ingrid?” Yoloxochitl asked without warning. Her eyes did not smile when her lips did.

Did she find a way to blame Ingrid in her madness? I felt like a man walking on a sword’s edge, one step away from cutting myself. “She is...” I tried to find a compliment that wouldn’t arouse the Nightlord’s wrath. “Charming.”

“I dislike her,” Yoloxochitl declared, a sneer of disdain spreading on her fair face. “My sister Iztacoatl prefers exotic foreigners as her chosen consorts. All looks and no heart. That Ingrid is an opportunist, much like her own mother. She won’t love you.”

“Not like you do, oh goddess,” I replied. I meant it as a jab, but managed to word it as a compliment.

“You do not need to speak to me so formally, Iztac. We are family now, are we not?” Yoloxochitl gently stroked my hair, as if I were an adorable pet. “You may simply call me mother.”

I would rather have stayed an orphan, but I remembered Huehuecoyotl’s lessons. Yoloxochitl’s heart yearned for unconditional love; not the service and adoration of servants or the obedience enforced in her vampire children. I needed to become the dutiful son: the one who respected his elders and went along with their decisions when needed, but showed enough initiative to argue when needed.

If I failed to talk my way out of this, if Yoloxochitl ripped my veins open to see if my blood burned in the open air, I would have to use the Veil; and if it failed to deceive her... I would lose, and my skull would join those of my predecessors, but at least I would fight back.

“You need not worry, Mother Yoloxochitl,” I said, hating myself for calling her that at all. From the way her lips curved, she seemed to appreciate the name. “Ingrid might share my bed, but my heart belongs to another.”

“Indeed.” Yoloxochitl stopped in the middle of a stair step. Her hand brushed against my chest, slowly, dangerously. “You are a brave child.”

I half expected her nails to sink into my flesh and rip my heart out. I was tempted to activate the Veil and slip away, but kept enough of my composure to not to show a hint of worry. Eventually, Yoloxochitl’s hand traveled down to my navel, stopping short of my more intimate parts.

“At least Ingrid’s line has proved fertile. She should give me grandchildren in time. The other consorts possess a good enough constitution too.” Yoloxochitl removed her hand from my robes, much to my relief. “You might not realize it yet, Iztac, but fathering more blessed children is your holiest duty. Your sacred blood must keep flowing. Your seed enriches any soil in which it is planted.”

You will harvest none of the blood I sow, oh mother of madness, I promised myself. “I shall do my duty, Mother Yoloxochitl.”

Yoloxochitl nodded, happy with my answer. “I hope you beget a daughter,” she whispered wistfully. “I will be very gentle when I adopt her.”

The terrible memory of Eztli drinking her father to death flashed in my mind. But this time I imagined a girl with white hair and blue eyes sinking her fangs into a helpless man’s flesh in their place: a daughter I might have one day, and the fate that would await her should the Nightlords have their way.

Never, I swore to myself, using all my courage and willpower to hide my true feelings from my captor. I will destroy you first.

Yoloxochitl started singing to herself as we stepped into the imperial gardens, blissfully unaware of my silent hatred for her. The tune was slow in its joyful innocence, barely breaking through the gentle night breeze.

She will sing the same way when she leads you to the altar, the wind ominously whispered into my ear. In this world of suffering, there is no greater madness than an innocent heart.

For someone called the Flower of the Heart, I doubted Yoloxochitl had one.

“I must ask you again, Iztac,” she said as we walked among the orchids, her hand trailing among the petals. “Is there something you forgot to tell me?”

Now was the moment of truth. It took all of my willpower to lie to her with a straight face. “I do not remember hiding anything worth reporting to you, Mother.”

I could have sworn the orchids’ petals recoiled at my words. Yoloxochitl sent me a strange gaze. Where I expected anger at my lie, I instead found compassion. “My poor child,” she said. “You still do not see? You are better than this.”

Would you expect me to discard the sun for you? I thought, struggling to fake innocence. “Mother, forgive me, but I still do not understand you.”

“That whore, Necahual,” Yoloxochitl answered. “I know what she has done.”

“Necahual?” I stared at Yoloxochitl in utter confusion. She wasn’t here for my Teyolia? “What about her?”

Now she looked displeased. “Iztac, you need not lie for her sake.”

Has she discovered Necahual’s poison? I thought, desperately trying to figure out what was going on. My spine stiffened under the tension. Has Sigrun betrayed me?

“Yes, Iztac.” Yoloxochitl stroked my cheek in a way that would have felt motherly, if not for the cold edge in her eyes. “I know that ungrateful wench tried to raise her hand against you again.”

For a few seconds, I could hardly believe my ears. I was simply so taken aback, my mind so overtaken with fear and anxiety that the idea I might have misunderstood the reason behind Yoloxochitl’s presence seemed utterly absurd to me. I expected the other shoe to drop, for the Nightlord to reveal she knew of my nightly escapade. But when I searched her displeased expression, I could find none of her fury directed at me.

She... she doesn’t know about my Teyolia? I thought, gobsmacked. But the ritual... I don’t... what...

The wind whispered a riddle into my ear. The Father of Night obscures even the brightest stars, it said ominously. Even the sun shall bleed in the final feast.

I hardly understood the cryptic warning, but I figured it meant my secret was safe for now, for whatever reasons. My pounding heart slowed down, and I would have breathed a sigh of relief if not for Yoloxochitl’s next words.

“I should have her hand severed,” she said with a dangerous light in her eyes. “Maybe her tongue too.”

The tension in my flesh returned. My life was safe, but Necahual’s was now once again on the line. “Mother Yoloxochitl, you were misinformed,” I said, trying to word my supplication in a way that wouldn’t imply any mistake on her part. “This was all but play. I kissed her.”

“It did not sound like play from what I heard,” Yoloxochitl insisted. “She tried to slap you with her dirty hand. I would have executed her for less.”

And I thanked the gods below ground that it wasn’t the case. “It was a ploy on my end,” I lied. “I am taking my sweet time tormenting Necahual. I want to slowly put her through the same humiliations she visited upon me.”

“Then have her stoned,” Yoloxochitl ‘helpfully’ suggested. “A disobedient slave deserves worse than admonishment.”

My fists briefly tightened at the word slave, but too subtle for the Nightlord to notice. “It is not her flesh I wish to break,” I argued, “but her spirit.”

Yoloxochitl frowned in confusion. “Her spirit?”

“She has learned she can no longer raise her hand at me. That she was at my mercy.” That, at least, was true. “I will have her work like the most lowly servant and break her spirit. Only then, once she realizes she is my slave, will I claim her body.”

The lie flowed out easily, because I believed half of it. Though we had formed an alliance, part of me did enjoy getting back at Necahual for years of abuse. My words sounded good enough that Yoloxochitl squinted at me with slight incomprehension. “I see...”

Knowing it wouldn’t take long for her to default back to her inner cruelty, I decided to distract her away from Necahual’s fate. “There is another thing I wished to confess, Mother Yoloxochitl.”

“Oh?” Yoloxochitl immediately tilted her head to the side, immensely curious. “What secret have you been holding from me, Iztac?”

“For the nerves,” she said, somewhat awkwardly. It felt strange for her to act with kindness towards me. “It will soothe your mind.”

“Thank you.” I appreciated the gesture, but no drug would help me forget what I had seen. Nor did I want to. I needed to remember that the Nightlords’ cruelty knew no bounds. It would make the tasks ahead easier to justify. “It will help with my morning meditation.”

Necahual nodded slightly, a hint of unease on her face. She followed me all the way to the Reliquary’s threshold. Did she hope to protect me? Or was she afraid I would do something foolish in my current state?

She did not need to worry. My mind was clear.

I stepped alone into the darkness of the shrine and faced the bones of my predecessors. The skulls’ eyes lit up at my approach. They did not offer greetings, or words of comfort. They would have been wasted.

Instead, they spoke the truth. “You have seen her true self.”

“Are they all like this?” I dared to ask. “All four?”

“Yes,” my predecessors confirmed. “Each advent of the Scarlet Moon strengthens the Nightlords’ foul magic and separates them further from humanity. Their human skin is but a shell, an echo of what they discarded long ago.”

The thing that called itself Yoloxochitl... something like that didn’t belong in this world nor the next.

“Now, do you understand why everything is forgiven in the pursuit of our goal?” The Parliament let out a grim rattle. “You are not fighting undead women with more power than any mortal. You are fighting demons hiding beneath a mask of humanity. A veneer that grows thinner with each cycle of death.”

I knew. I knew, but I didn’t fully understand. Destroying such abominations would demand absolute commitment. I had wavered on the means to use and their consequences. No longer. A war was a small price to pay to rid mankind of these... these demons.

“What weaknesses do they have?” I asked the Parliament.

“The same as all children of the night.” The skulls grinned as one. “The sun.”

Whose light now flowed through my veins. If I could lull Yoloxochitl into drinking my blood at the correct time, I could weaken her. Probably not to the point of destroying her outright—Mictecacihuatl’s warning came to mind—but enough to give me a chance at slaying her.

But my blood was meant for the First Emperor’s altar, to be shed on the night of the Scarlet Moon and no sooner. What would it take to tempt Yoloxochitl into violating that ancient tradition? Much effort, no doubt, and great sacrifices.

I will pay any, I swore to myself. My dignity, my body, my soul... I will do whatever it takes.

“We are pleased with your progress,” my predecessors congratulated me. “Your Teyolia burns with the embers of the fourth sun. In time, it will shine like the fifth.”

“Why did the Nightlords not notice?” I asked. “My heart is bound to their ritual.”

“So are we,” the Parliament answered. “Our spirits clouded your heart’s transformation from the Nightlords’ gaze. What happens in the Land of the Dead Suns shall remain hidden from their view, at least for now.”

“Thank you, my predecessors.” Still, I noticed the subtle warning. “For now? Not forever?”

“Should you continue to harvest the embers, there will come a time when your heart shines too bright for our shadows to cover. The Nightlords will learn the truth then.”

There would come a time when my growing power would force a confrontation. “How many suns will it take?”

“We cannot say. We have never been in our current position.” The Parliament’s thousand glowing eyes stared at me with sympathy. “Approach each sun as if it were your last.”

How many would it take to burn the Nightlords to cinders, I wondered. What happened tonight only strengthened my resolve to delve into Tlalocan as soon as I mastered my spells.

“Now tell us of your other exploits,” the Parliament said. “Did you uncover new spells in the city of the dead?”

I gave them a report on my progress, how I had unlocked the door to Tlalocan and the Veil spell. The previous emperors greeted my words with enthusiasm.

“Your progress pleases us,” they said. “The Veil shall serve you well in the battles to come, whether waged on the battlefield or in a council room. Though venturing into Tlalocan appears premature for now. You best equip yourself in Mictlan.”

“I must still practice the Doll and the Veil spells more,” I warned my predecessors. “But I am confident I can trick a few onlookers.”

The emperors’ skulls fell silent for a few seconds, meditating on my words. “You plan to use it today. To deceive the empire into starting a war.”

They had guessed my plan, and its consequences.

“Yes.” I’d made my decision the moment I saw Yoloxochitl’s true form. “I... I will do what I must do to bring this house of skulls down.”

One must give before they receive. This law applied to magic and the gods. Now I realized it would apply to the world of the living too. I wouldn’t win without making a sacrifice.

The Parliament gazed at me with what could pass for grim sympathy. They offered me words of comfort. “All sins are forgiven in the pursuit of a righteous cause, our successor. Always remember these words. Our path is paved with blood and tears, but we must tread it nonetheless.”

Thousands would die, but there would come a night where no vampire would water their gardens with fresh blood. At least I prayed for it.

“You wish to meet with your fellow Nahualli tonight,” the Parliament murmured. “It is now time to put her latent powers to the test.”

“You said you had a way of revealing her Tonalli?” I hoped Nenetl would be a Tlacatecolotl. An ally would greatly help me survive the Underworld.

“Indeed.” The Parliament’s eyes glowed with a blue radiance, similar to the pale moonlight. “Through our discussions with the dead that wandered through the Gate of Skulls, we have learned of the existence of a spell called the Gaze; one that relies on a sorcerer’s Teyolia and reveals all that is hidden. Your inner radiance will dispel shadows and force out the truth. Use it on this Nenetl to unveil her animal spirit.”

“Can it shatter the Veil spell?” I wondered, squinting. “Huehuecoyotl assured me no spell could.”

“The trickster puts too much faith in his power, but he is not entirely wrong,” the Parliament replied. “From what we were taught, the Gaze spell is only as strong as its wielder. A man’s Teyolia is a feeble ember, barely able to show him the way in the dark, and a Nightkin does not even have that. Your heart, however, carries the power of a dead god’s sun. It might help you dissipate weak illusions.”

Good. If I could avoid trickery from the Nightlords, I could at least lift some doubts from my heart. “How does one use this spell?”

“According to what we learned, you must focus on your heartbeat,” the Parliament taught me. “Look at the light within yourself and guide your Teyolia’s flame to your eyes. Let the sun shine through your gaze.”

I sat inside the Reliquary and practiced as I was told. The spell came surprisingly easy to me. The fire slumbering within me desired to be unleashed unto the world. I guided the magical flame coursing through my veins to my eyes, until purple light shone from them.

My gaze illuminated the darkness around me, unveiling the obsidian walls of the Reliquary and other hidden details. Most importantly, I noticed four ephemeral, coiling chains of shadows binding my predecessors’ skulls to the ground. The very same bindings that enslaved me to the Nightlords.

One day, I will sit in this room and watch them shatter, I told myself. “This spell is noticeable.”

“It should only reveal the truth to you,” the Parliament replied. “Cloak it in the Veil to hide it from others.”

I called upon my Tonalli to hide the Gaze spell’s blinding light behind an illusion of normalcy. While I managed to shroud my inner light, my eyes quickly started to hurt. They felt as if they were drying, and I had little choice but to stop both spells.

Fools looking at the sun too long go blind, I realized. The sunlight within me will do the same if I keep the Gaze spell up too long.

In this world full of liars, I would have to use the truth sparingly.

“Hours pass and your council meeting approaches,” the Parliament warned me. “We know another Ihiyotl spell to teach you, but it shall wait until our next meeting. We wish you good luck until we meet again.”

I nodded sharply as I rose to my feet. “When I come back, the empire will be at war.”

The skulls ominously grinned at me. “Good.”

Somehow, their congratulations did not bring me any joy.

I walked out of the Reliquary to find two new guards waiting outside. They appeared younger than Yoloxochitl’s victims, though no less foolish.

“I will visit one of my consorts tonight,” I said. “My dear Nenetl loves games and foreign objects. Gather my collection in her apartment.”

“As you wish, oh emperor,” answered one of them with a deep bow. “Is there any object you wish to showcase in particular?”

“We are to play Sapa board games, so bring what we have on their culture.” Especially that magical tablet, I thought. The Gaze will reveal to me its secrets, and the Veil shall add weight to my lies.

The Parliament of Skulls warned me that the Nightlords would not attack the Sapa unless forced to. With the Veil spell, I could gain the perfect pretext. One not even my cruel captors could ignore.

By sunset, I would have my war.