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milk and maize gruel – good chocolate, too, very tasty. That's the last thing I remember clearly. Then the room was spinning, and…" His hand clenched again. "There was darkness, Acatl, deeper than the shadows of Mictlan. Something leapt at her. I tried to step in, but everything went dark. When I woke up, I was alone, and covered in her blood." 
      It still sounded as though he was leaving out parts of the story – probably Eleuia's seduction of him, which I didn't think I was capable of hearing out in any case – but this version sounded far more sincere than the first one he'd given me. Which, of course, didn't mean it was the truth. If he and Eleuia had consummated their act, he could have panicked and decided she was a risk to him while she still lived. I didn't like the thought, but Neutemoc was a canny enough man, or he wouldn't have risen so high in the warrior hierarchy.
      "You could at least have had the intelligence to get out as soon as you could," I said. "What about the furniture?"
      He stared at me. "Furniture? I… You know, I don't quite remember about that. I think I must have wanted to make sure I hadn't left any trace of my passage."
      Not a sensible thing to do. But then, would I be sensible, if I woke up in a deserted room, covered in blood, with no memory of what had happened?
      "Very well," I said. "Do you have anything that can prove your story?"
      Neutemoc stared at me, shocked. "I'm your brother, Acatl. Isn't my word enough?"
      He was really slow tonight. "We already went through that, remember?" I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible. "Your word
alone won't sway the magistrates."
  "Magistrates." His voice was flat.
  "It will come to trial," I said.
      I'd expected him to be angry. Instead, he suddenly went as still as a carved statue. His lips moved, but I couldn't hear any word. 
      "Neutemoc?"
      He looked up, right through me. "It's only fair, I suppose," he said. "Deserved."
      My stomach plummeted. "Why did you deserve it?"
      But he wouldn't talk to me any more, no matter how many times I tried to draw him out of his trance.
     
    Ceyaxochitl was waiting for me in the corridor, talking to Yaotl. He threw me an amused glance as I got closer.
  "So?" Ceyaxochitl asked.
  I shrugged. "His story holds together."
      "But you don't like it," she said, as shrewd as ever.
      "No," I said. "There's something he's not telling me." And my brother had tried to sleep with a priestess; had tried to cheat on his wife. I was having trouble accepting it. It did not sound like something that would happen to my charmed-life brother.
      "Where does the world go, if you can't trust your own brother?" Yaotl asked, darkly amused.
      As far as I knew, Yaotl, a captive foreigner Ceyaxochitl had bought from the Tlatelolco marketplace, had a wife – a slight, pretty woman who seldom spoke to strangers – but no other family. At least, not the kind that lived close enough to get him embroiled in their troubles. Lucky man.
      "What about the nahual trail?" Ceyaxochitl asked.
      "It vanishes into thin air, halfway up a wall no animal could jump."
  "Hum," Ceyaxochitl said. "Odd. We've searched every room, and the nahual isn't here."
  "They don't just vanish," I said.
      "I know," Ceyaxochitl said. She frowned. "We're no nearer finding Priestess Eleuia than we were one hour ago. I'll instruct the search parties to cast a wider net."
      She waited, no doubt for my acquiescence. It was an unsettling thought to be in charge of the investigation. Eleuia had been about to become Consort of Xochipilli. This meant that she would have been connected to the Imperial Court, in one way or another. Given the political stakes, I had better be very careful of where I trod; and politics had never been my strength. "Shouldn't you be back at the palace?" I asked her.
      Ceyaxochitl snorted. "I can spare one night to help you start. But only one."
      I nodded.