Chapter Seventeen: Consequences

Chapter Seventeen: Consequences

“The weapon?”

I nodded before the Parliament of Skulls. Once the Nightlords let me go, I immediately went to report to my predecessors. “Iztacoatl mentioned it would spoil the ‘food’,” I said, my lips twisting in disdain, “Whatever that means.”

My words gave even the dead pause. “Of all the Nightlords, Iztacoatl is the cruelest,” the skulls whispered. “If she protested against the use of this weapon, then its cost must be grim.”

Having witnessed Yoloxochitl eat her own men and the Jaguar Woman nearly strangle me to death, I grimly pondered how the White Snake could somehow be worse. “Have you no knowledge of what such a weapon might be, my predecessors?”

The emperors’ skulls wriggled on their pillar. If they still had necks, they would probably have shaken their heads. “The Nightlords managed to keep certain secrets from us, such as this weapon. However, we can make conjectures. Are you certain Yoloxochitl developed it?”

“I believe so,” I confirmed.

“Yoloxochitl is a middling sorceress when compared to her more accomplished sisters, so we doubt it is a spell. No spear or bow, however refined, would impress her sisters.”

“So we can rule out improved equipment.” I crossed my arms, trying to remember any key detail that might help us uncover the truth. “They said the weapon. Singular.”

“If it risks ruining the Nightlords’ blood supply, then it must be a poison of some sort,” the Parliament said. “Yoloxochitl does have a certain gift for gardening.”

A chill traveled down my spine. I had seen firsthand what kind of plants she catered to. “Could it be a flower from her garden?” I suggested. “Odious seeds that will bloom at night to devour the living?”

“Mayhaps,” my predecessors replied. “You must discover the truth. If the Nightlords are confident this weapon will turn the coming campaign to their advantage, it must be destroyed as soon as possible.”

How ironic. I had sparked a war with a foreign empire and now plotted how to help them win as efficiently as possible.

“Cultivate your relationship with the Flower of the Heart,” my predecessors suggested. “This remains your best option to uncover the truth so far.”

Unfortunately, they were right. I had no desire to spend any more time in Yoloxochitl’s twisted company than necessary, but the fate of the war would depend on it. The closer we grow, the easier the kill, I thought. She can’t do worse than what I have already seen.

I kept telling myself that, and the Nightlords kept proving me wrong.

“That matter aside, we are very pleased with your progress, our successor.” The Parliament’s eyes lit up all at once, their radiance briefly strong enough to cast away the Reliquary’s shadows. For a moment, it seemed as if dawn itself threatened to rise from the darkness. “Your plan, however risky, shall herald a new war fraught with opportunities.”

“It cost Nenetl dearly,” I replied, my fists tightening. I never meant to involve her. Not this way.

“It is unfortunate that your consort awakened her totem under these circumstances,” the skulls lamented, though they showed little compassion for Nenetl herself. “We had hoped to cultivate her gifts in secret. Still, the wolf is a strong totem and we will not let the Jaguar Woman shackle it. We can make use of her.”

I felt a little ashamed at asking, “How so?”

“The wolf is a totem of kinship, who draws power from the moon,” my predecessors explained. “With enough training, your consort will learn how to control her transformation and gain enough strength to rival the lesser Nightkin. It will be an asset in battle.”

“Why would the Nightlords let her transform?” My jaw clenched on its own. “The Jaguar Woman made her intention to ‘tame’ Nenetl all too clear.”

“One can shackle the wild, but never truly conquer it.” The skulls let out a cold, sinister chuckle. “When a Nahualli awakens their bestial form in the Jaguar Woman’s care, she always proceeds the same way: she marks them with spells that let her both trigger the transformation at will or punish it with terrible pain. Many Nahualli among us suffered from this treatment.”

I thanked fate for blessing me with a subtler totem, or it would have happened to me too. “Why does the Jaguar Woman do that?” I asked. “She selected Nenetl as a consort because she was a Nahualli from what I gathered, so she must gain some benefit out of it.”

“She does,” the Parliament confirmed. “The Jaguar Woman has learned how to drain magic as well as blood. She will feed on Nenetl’s power, diminishing your consort’s potential and strengthening her sorcery.”

The witch waited for Nahualli’s powers to mature the way a farmer waited for a vegetable to grow full before the harvest. Disgusting.

“We have developed countermeasures over previous cycles,” the previous emperors reassured me, though their solution proved far more sinister than I would have liked. “Subtle alterations to the Jaguar Woman’s design will let you subtly usurp control over her bindings. You will gain equal power over young Nenetl’s transformation.”

“This... This is not what I wish for.” I gulped. “Is there no way to simply break the spells controlling Nenetl and let her run free?”

“Not without alerting the Jaguar Woman.” A thousand eyes gazed at me in silence. “What concerns you, our successor?”

“You suggest that I further tighten Nenelt’s leash,” I replied with a sigh of exhaustion. “I would rather free her and have her join us out of her own free will.”

The Parliament of Skulls meditated on my words for a few seconds before answering. “Perhaps she will in time,” they reassured me. “But so long as the Jaguar Woman remains in this world, your consort’s fate shall remain out of her own hands. Any freedom you offer will be an illusion, a mirage. To break her mistress’ shackles, you must use all the means at your disposal.”

“I understand necessity is law, but...” I struggled to explain why treating Nenetl this way bothered me. How was exploiting a loophole in the Jaguar Woman’s spells less righteous than starting a war that would kill thousands? “Nenetl...”

She was like me. A Nahualli that was rejected for her appearance and then exploited by others for their personal gain. I kept seeing myself in Guatemoc’s place as he watched me tend to the fields.

She is like clay, soft and weak and easy to twist, the Yaotzin had warned me about Nenetl once. She will become either your puppet or someone else’s, bound by love’s cruel strings.

“I would be treating her the same way I was, as a tool.” That was what troubled me the most. “What would that make me, my predecessors?”

“What you wish to become,” the Parliament replied without hesitation. My guilt and remorse washed over them like water on an ancient stone. “There is no good or evil in this world, Iztac Ce Ehecatl. Only that which we believe in. The end matters as much as the means, our successor. The Nightlords will exploit your consort for their own profit, while you shall make use of her talents so she can one day earn her freedom.”

That only sounded like a justification to me. The same kind of prayers my citizens had when they saw their kin led to the altar; empty promises that all would be right in the end, that the world was a cruel place, and that there were no other ways.

“Let us ask you a question, our successor.” I felt the weight of centuries worth of judgment on my shoulders. “If young Nenetl had not been your reflection... if you did not learn to know this girl in all her imperfections... if she had been a stranger you met on the road... would you hesitate as you do now?”

My jaw tightened. I dearly wanted to say yes, that I would treat a stranger the same way I would care for a friend... but it would have been an empty lie. I had started a war that would leave thousands dead or suffering in vampire bellies.

“You would not.” The previous emperors sounded neither surprised nor condemning. Instead, they dispensed advice. “Listen well, Iztac. Those who let their feelings cloud their judgment will always stumble before they can reach their goal. Attachments can be both the roots that fuel a soul’s strength, and the ropes that bind it to suffering.”

I thought back to Eztli, to whom I clung to in spite of what she had become in the hope I could see her returned to normalcy. “Do you suggest I let go of everything?”

“Cherish the bonds you have formed when they grant your strength,” my predecessors said, “but do not let them blind you to the truth, or distract you from your duty. Thousands of Nenetls will perish by the time we bring down Yohuachanca, and not all casualties will be strangers you do not care for. This is a fact you must accept.”

I once again thought back to what happened with Nenetl. I did not wish to involve her in this manner, but when she tried to rescue me... I would have sicced my Veiled phantom on her to sell my lie. I would have felt guilty, but I would have done it nonetheless.

She was trying to protect me, and I had been ready to harm her anyway.

I hadn’t considered her feelings, I thought. I took the easy path without thinking of other ones. No matter what my predecessors say, I shouldn’t reward kindness with cruelty.

“I refuse to become the very evil I fight against,” I said resolutely. “I will do what I must to destroy the Nightlords, but... there has to be another solution we haven’t considered yet. Perhaps the Land of the Dead Suns holds spells that can let me free Nenetl without replacing her master with another.”

“Mayhaps,” the Parliament conceded cautiously. “It might cost you time and effort.”

“I will bear that burden,” I stated resolutely. “I will do what is necessary, not what is convenient.”

“Your principles do you credit, our successor,” the Parliament whispered back, a little more kindly. “Though we wonder how long you can afford to stay true to them.”

“As long as I can.” I sighed and moved on, though I promised myself I contact the Yaotzin and Sigrun to check on Nenetl. “What happens next? I was told the New Fire Ceremony would take place over the next five days. Will it be canceled?”

“No,” the Parliament replied succinctly. “For the foreseeable future, the Nightlords will not let word of this event reach the outside world. The New Fire Ceremony will happen as scheduled, both for the sake of its religious significance and to delay foreign spy reports. The Sapa delegation will certainly be put under house arrest and interrogated within a few days’ time.”

I could already guess what form this interrogation would take. The red-eyed priests understood perfectly how to arouse pain in the human body. After all, they carved them open for a living.

“The ambassadors will claim their innocence in the tablet affair, probably truthfully,” the Parliament explained to me. “We doubt their superior informed them of the Chaskarumi’s properties. The Nightlords will not care. They will be kept as hostages and then publicly sacrificed once their armies start marching.”

My phantom did not kill any ambassador, but I had condemned them to death all the same.

“In the meantime, a few things will happen.” My predecessors’ eyes lit up all at once. “Security around the palace will tighten. More guards will keep an eye on you and the Nightlords’ servants shall survey magical activity more closely.”Upstodatee from n(0)/ve/lbIn/.(co/m

“I shall not use magic again within the palace’s confines,” I reassured them. With Tlacaelel dead, I didn’t have any obvious target to turn my talons on anyway. I was content at training in the Underworld for now.

“The time for the hunt shall come later, in the spring.” The light in the skull’s empty eyes dimmed a little. “As emperor, you will be expected to bring luck to soldiers by joining them on the frontline. Another Nightlord shall escort you.”

That was new, and unexpected. I immediately guessed the probable cause. “Is this about Huehuecoyotl?” I asked with a groan. “What has he done in my absence?”

“Who cares about that old coyote?” Xolotl glared at me. “I am deeply upset with you, Iztac. How dare you play with my heart after all I’ve done for you? Have I not been kind and helpful?”

“Helpful, yes, kind is debatable,” I replied with a scowl. Was he mocking me? I thought it might be a prank of some kind or an attempt to extort another favor from me, but he seemed genuinely annoyed. “Will you tell me what this is all about? I must practice my spellcasting and the nights are short.”

“Yes, yes, play the fool.” Xolotl put a leg over another; his eyes glaring at me filled with judgment. “You have lied to me, Iztac. You did not tell me your father was killed by a vampire.”

Of all the things the god could have said to me, I would have never guessed that. I stared at Xolotl as my mind struggled to make sense of his words, my eyes looking for any hint of a joke. I didn’t find any. He was entirely serious.

“I think I would know if that were the case,” I replied with heavy sarcasm. “No Nightkin touched my father.”

“Then how did he die?” Xolotl asked.

“The drought killed him.” The answer came quickly, the details a little slower. “We were starved for food and fresh water, and my father... my father gave me everything he could scrounge up. The heat and thirst...” It still hurt to remember these days, even after so many years. “They became too much for him.”

I expected Xolotl to show indifference, as he usually did. To my surprise, his canine features eased up a little instead. “You are telling the truth.”

“Of course I am,” I snapped back. I did not like to remember Father’s death, or what followed. “Is it about my request?”

Xolotl nodded slowly. “I could not find him.”

As I feared. “He must be lost outside the city,” I said. “My father died over four years ago, but the souls I have rescued were trapped for deca–”

“No, Iztac, you do not understand.” Xolotl snorted; his pride wounded. “I am the god of guides. If I want to find a lost soul, or a forgotten treasure, I always succeed. It is my nature, my cosmos-mandated job. I could not find your father’s soul anywhere.”

I almost mocked Xolotl for his lack of work ethic, only for his words to hit me like a wave.

A god couldn’t find my father’s soul.

“Maybe you missed him,” I tried to argue, hoping Xolotl had simply made a mistake.

“I have visited every Itzili who has ever existed,” Xolotl explained in annoyance. “After many dead ends, I even tracked down your paternal grandparents for answers.”

“My grandparents?” It suddenly occurred to me that yes, I had those. They had perished before my birth, so I never knew them. In fact, I didn’t remember Father ever mentioning them. “They’re in Mictlan?”

“Yes, and guess what? They are still waiting for their son to arrive.” Xolotl sighed and started licking his paw in frustration. “Oh, by the way, they were pretty happy to learn that they had a grandson. You should go pay them a visit. They seemed kind enough.”

“I...” I admit the idea had never crossed my mind. Not only were they strangers to me, but I was a Nahualli. A curse on their son’s household. They would likely blame me for their son’s disappearance over welcoming me in their midst. “I do not have time for it. Maybe next year.”

If I survived that long.

“Suit yourself,” Xolotl replied before squinting at me. “Are you certain your father did not fake his death?”

I glared at Xolotl for his lack of tact. “I buried him myself.”

Instead of backing down, the god foolishly dug himself deeper. “Are you sure it wasn’t a secret twin?” he dared to ask me. “Those things happen more often than you thi–”

“I’m sure.” This shouldn’t be happening. “My father died years ago! He should be here, in the Underworld, in Mictlan–”

Wait a second.

Xolotl warned me that he could only roam the Land of the Dead Suns’ first layer. He could not access the depths below, hence his request that I deliver a message to his brother Quetzalcoatl.

And my mother had left Mictlan in disgrace with a bounty of stolen souls.

Could my father have been one of them? I wondered. It would explain it.

“Ah, I see.” Xolotl seemed to have guessed at what gnawed at me. “You think the spirit thief absconded with his soul to Tlalocan.”

My parents must have reunited in the Underworld, and when Mother fled Mictlan, Father followed her. His love for her remained intact in spite of her disappearance.

I hoped the feeling was mutual.

I must find them, I told myself. I had already decided to track down my mother, and knowing my father was with her only cemented my choice. Rumors said Mother built a lair in a place called Xilbaba. I need to find more information.

“Well, in that case, I cannot fulfill the terms of our bargain,” Xolotl confessed with a grunt. “Curses, I wasted a full day on a pointless errand.”

I seized my chance. “I am still willing to deliver a message to your brother,” I reassured Xolotl. “If you cannot fulfill your end of our bargain, I have an alternative favor in mind.”

“Are you trying to short-change a god?” Xolotl bolted to his feet in outrage. “I knew Huehuecoyolt would be a terrible influence on you!”

“Too late,” I mused. “Don’t worry, my idea shouldn’t take too much effort for a skilled guide such as you. All I need is advice.”

“Advice?” Xolotl’s ears perked up in interest. “Ah, you should have said so sooner. Of course, humble Xolotl will dispense his wisdom, if you ask nicely.”

“I request knowledge, not wisdom.” I doubted he had much of the second to give anyway. “I will venture into Tlalocan soon to carry on with my quest. I need information on the dangers that await me there, and how to survive them.”

“That place is forbidden to me, remember?” Xolotl grumbled. “I cannot advise you on how to survive a place I cannot enter.”

“But rumors about the place managed to find their way to Mictlan,” I pointed out. The Boatsman had at least a vague understanding of how Tlaloc claimed souls and the Market of Years was abound with esoteric relics of bygone ages. “All that is lost and forgotten eventually makes its way to Mictlan. Surely that must include records of Tlalocan.”

Xolotl considered my words for a moment and found merit in my proposal. “I could scavenge the wastes outside these walls for a scroll or a map of Tlalocan, true...”

“I would be thankful for anything useful,” I said, insisting on the last part.

“And if I bring you the information you seek, will you swear to fulfill my request in turn?” Xolotl asked. I nodded in confirmation, much to his delight. “Very well. I hope this won’t be another fool’s errand, but if I find anything, I will return to you with haste.”

I would pray for his success, but since Xolotl was already a god, it would have been silly. Instead, I wished him good luck as he left. This time, he was happy enough to chew my arm on his way out.

I wondered how long it would take for him to return. If Xolotl’s powers truly allowed him to find anything he wanted, perhaps he would come back before the night’s end.

Wait, if he truly can find anything... then it meant Chipahua and Ueman spent decades lost in the misst purely because the god had been too lazy to search for them.

The lives and happiness of us mortals mean little to gods, I bitterly pondered while sitting among the bones. True or false, it makes no difference. Neglect is the best we can hope for.

I wove myself in a cloak of illusions. Huehuecoyotl had made it clear that he did not want to see me again after teaching me his secrets, so I would need to practice on my own.

I immediately sensed an invisible presence weighted on my Veil spell.

I had summoned a simple illusion that turned my black feathers white. A simple workout before I started practicing more intense exercises. The plaza was empty and Xolotl was long gone, yet a foreign gaze pressed against my spell.

However, what alerted me was the sense of familiarity that pervaded this particular presence. I recognized it immediately.

After all, I had felt it not too long ago.

I activated my Gaze spell and looked around. The weight pressing on my illusion vanished the moment sunlight started pouring out of my eyes. I detected no hidden ghost, no assassin waiting to ambush me from the shadows. Yet I knew I hadn’t dreamed it.

Whatever Sapa sorcerer spied on me through the Chaskarumi tablet had eyes in the Underworld.