MTLNOVEL Chapter Eighty-Seven: A Word of Advice
Chapter Eighty-Seven: A Word of Advice
My hands seized her flesh with the strength of my frustration.
I sat on my imperial bed, facing a naked Tenoch after she impaled herself on my manhood with her arms and legs coiled around mine. I buried my face in her voluptuous bosom and gripped her ass with an unbreakable grip, drawing her closer.
“Oh yes, master,” she whispered in my ear in between gasps and cries of pleasure. “Master Nochtli never made me feel so good… you are truly one of a kind…”
I couldn’t tell whether she was truthful or simply soothing my wounded ego. Tenoch had always been a sensitive soul and more perceptive than her innocent demeanor would suggest. From the looks Necahual and Atziri sent me from each side of the bed, they had at least noticed my anger.
I had originally planned to summon all three to discuss Tenoch’s transfer demand, especially since it might alter our planned ritual with Necahual, but Mother’s deceit and Sugey’s latest stunt left me so furious that I’d been tempted to strangle Tayatzin with my bare hands. The Nightlord hadn’t even bothered to summon me for a strategy meeting yet, even after news of the frontlines likely reached her ear. The message couldn’t be clearer: I was to take her public announcement like any other man and fulfill her command without complaint. My opinion was beneath her for the moment.
I was used to disappointment and abuse by now, but this insult somehow managed to infuriate me. I’d felt the same call that pushed me to summon the rain in Zachilaa from the very depths of my Teyolia.
Consuming Tlaloc’s embers had done more than bolster my power and confidence; it had imbued me with his strength and pride. The godly half of my soul demanded respect and wished to answer the insult with fire and brimstone. My sense of reason and foresight now conflicted with an instinct I struggled to repress.
I decided that drowning myself in female flesh would be a more productive use of my energy than avenging that insult with blood or running the risk of my magic acting wildly like it did in Zachilaa. I needed to reassert control, to feel in command again; and while I knew that sleeping with a glorified slave wasn’t exactly a grandiose act of rulership, it was the best I could do to quell the divine fury for now.
NSFW Scene begins
There was no attempt at Seidr, no political purpose behind our lovemaking; only rage-fueled lust. Tenoch’s flesh tightened its grip on my manhood. I was so close to release, and she welcomed it.
A thought suddenly crossed my mind. I had sired children back when I had only absorbed one set of embers, yet I hadn’t conceived any with Tenoch yet. Would a child blessed by two suns rather than one inherit more power than his older siblings? Would the son or daughter of a demigod and a mortal become a quarter of a god?
The mere thought excited me so much that I came on the spot.
I sensed Tenoch’s body tense up when my manhood erupted inside her. I pressed her against me, our bodies enveloped in a carnal embrace, tightening my grip so much I feared I would break her in two. She couldn’t escape. She was mine, mine, mine. She surrendered to me without a fight, welcoming my seed and my tongue within the throes of orgasm.
I was her god and she worshiped me. I allowed her to breathe once we finished by unsealing our kiss. Her sweat mixed with my seed as both dripped down her thighs and onto the bed.
- NSFW Scene ends
It took her a moment to recover from our shared bliss, and she giggled a bit afterwards.
“Master has changed,” Tenoch mused with a mischievous smile. I thought she meant I’d improved in the arts of love, and I think I did, but her insight ran deeper. “Master used to be afraid to give his seed. Now the prospect of planting it excites him.”
Tenoch had always proved more intuitive than she looked, and this remark was no exception. I used to be afraid of having children for fear of what the Nightlords would do to them. The thought of my progeny ending up on an altar, turned into breeding stock, or transformed into a vampire always provided a mental block.
I couldn’t tell exactly when that fear went away. The floodgates had cracked when I sired my first child, the way a thief might grow more comfortable with armed robbery after committing larceny, but it only truly collapsed once I earned the title of Cizin and absorbed Tlaloc’s embers. The storm god’s power had imbued me with the confidence that I would pull through somehow and crush the Nightlords.
In a way, I would say that the thought of protecting my unborn children from those vampires’ claws also provided me with plenty of motivation.
“His Majesty likes to feel like he owns us,” Necahual said with a hint of devious mockery. “Or even better, stole us.”
I would have blushed if I could still feel shame. I’d impregnated Necahual in her own late husband’s house, in the same bed where he used to take her; and I would have lied if claiming Lady Zyanya’s first night hadn’t given me a great degree of satisfaction.
I observed Tenoch and was seized with violent disgust at the mere thought of another man touching her. The idea that a future emperor would claim her for himself like I did infuriated me. I used to think I would allow my concubines to go and marry others once I defeated the Nightlords, but now I wanted nothing more than to keep them for myself.
Something deep within me rejoiced over lording my power over others. Whether it involved killing foes, commanding men, casting spells, or pleasuring women, it didn’t matter. It was all about power in the end. Power over others, over rules, over reality itself.
Tlaloc was right, my power magnifies my personality and flaws, I thought as I pulled out of Tenoch and released my grip on her. My craving for power and control grows stronger by the day.
I couldn’t tell whether those impulses came from within me or the First Emperor’s influence. Dreaded Yohuacanca’s hunger and lust destroyed him from within, and I was playing his role, wearing his armor, wielding his magic. If the Nightlords’ ritual was powerful enough to warp Eztli’s mind, I couldn’t rule out the possibility that it was also affecting mine.
The thrill of battle and the luxuries afforded to an emperor satiated that gnawing darkness of mine for now, but how long would that last until I slipped up? I had to find a way to regain at least some measure of control over the course of the Flower War, both for my sake and those of its future victims.
How to overcome Sugey’s ploy? I wondered. I could not overturn her announcement nor twist its meaning after she made such a show of it. Every soldier would need to bring back at least one sacrifice to survive, and the Sapa would fight all the hardest upon hearing what fate awaited them. I supposed I could try to limit the bloodshed to one captive per soldier, with the extra captives being spared… but would Sugey let me get away with it? No matter how I considered the problem, I couldn’t see any way to promote a merciful image among my troops and enemies.
Moreover, I had other issues to deal with.
“Atziri,” I said, causing my meeker concubine to tense up. “Why do you want to switch places with Tenoch?”
“I…” Atziri almost instinctively pulled the bedsheet to her. “I do not…”
“I came up with the idea on my own, Master,” Tenoch said.
“Why?” I insisted. I wanted to hear it from their very mouth.
Tenoch and Atziri exchanged a glance, with the latter gulping as she struggled to find her words.
“Lady Anaye… frightens me,” she confessed. “Tenoch thought I would have an easier time with Lady Ingrid.”
“Why does she frighten you?” Necahual asked with a frown. Considering how ‘Anaye’ would play into our ritual, she had an incentive to stay informed.
Atziri hesitated, clearly because she feared punishment. I moved closer to her and squinted. Now that I paid more attention to her, I began to notice small and nearly imperceptible bruises on her neck whose shape reminded me of fingers.
My blood boiled with anger. She didn’t dare.
“She tried to strangle you?” Atziri bit her lip at my question, so I softened my words. “I swear that I won’t allow anything to happen to you, Atziri. Whatever you say will stay between us.”
An emperor’s promise carried weight and untied many tongues, and I suspected seeing my powers up close only reinforced that sentiment in Atziri. She gulped, her face growing pale and her eyes haunted with a most frightful sight.
“This morning, Lady Anaye… she asked if I wanted to try out a necklace… I… I said yes and…” Atziri sobbed with horror. “She put her hands on my throat and… and she… she laughed. She laughed when she squeezed.”
My teeth clenched so hard my jaw hurt. Tenoch took Atziri’s hand into her own and gently caressed it, while the poor handmaiden wiped away a tear.
“She said it… it was a joke, but… the way she looked at me…” Atzir looked down at the bedsheet. “I’m… I’m scared, Your Majesty. I… I don’t think she’ll stop next time.”
How long had it been since the skinwalker joined us? A little more than a week? That creature couldn’t contain her cruelty for more than a few days.
I had explicitly forbidden that animal to harm my servants and she blatantly disobeyed me behind closed doors. The way she tried to scare Atziri without leaving too much of a physical mark told me that she knew I would punish her for this, but she simply couldn’t help herself.
I had peered into her soul. The skinwalker suffered from a diseased mind ever since childhood, which grew only worse over time. Her nature was to kill, to hurt, and to revel in fear. I’d hoped she possessed at least enough self-control to be useful for a time, but not even the leash of her true name could contain her malice.
I could offer her a captive to play with–better to die at a mad skinwalker’s hand than spend eternity in a vampire’s belly I supposed–but I had the feeling this wouldn’t change much. She would slip up.
How long until her impulses got the better of her? We were in the middle of a military camp, not the imperial palace. I couldn’t fully control the flow of information here. If she accidentally harmed one of my spies, or worse, one of the Nightlords’ assets and ended up detained…
“I cannot allow for a transfer now,” I said with some reluctance. Besides the fact Tenoch would be no safer than Atziri, pressing issues demanded that I keep my spy network stable. “My treacherous mother has joined with the Sapa, and she still holds Ingrid’s sister hostage.”
Necahual’s eyes lit up with surprise and bitter anger. Part of why I’d invited her tonight was to share this information with her early so that we could adjust our strategy. I barely had to say more. She was smart enough to connect the dots.
“Your mother, master?” Tenoch asked with a hand on her face. She too had heard of what happened on the night of Iztacoatl’s cruel hunt. “Have you told Lady Ingrid?”
“Not yet,” I replied. Considering Ingrid’s skills, I suspected she had already heard about it. “And when she does, it will shake her. I dare not remove the comfort you provide her, Tenoch.”
Tenoch’s expression grew torn between her loyalty to her mistress and her friendship with Atziri, with the latter clenching her fists. I gently touched her chin and invited her to look me in the eyes.
“Nonetheless, this is the last time Anaye will raise her hand against you,” I promised Atziri while biting my thumb. Light poured out of it. “Nor will pain haunt you any further.”
I rubbed my thumb against Atziri’s bruises. She let out a small gasp at my blood’s warmth, but its properties swiftly healed the damage ‘Anaye’ left on her pristine skin. She was pure and unblemished once more. Atziri’s eyes widened upon seeing this miracle.
“I will see to it that your mistress does not touch you again,” I said. The easiest option would be to have Chikal assign amazon guards with explicit orders to stop the skinwalker should she overreach again.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Atziri said profusely. “You are very kind.”
“I will have a talk with Anaye too,” Necahual said while giving me a knowing look. “She will change her tune soon enough.”
The suggestion sounded simple enough, but I had spent enough time with my favorite to sense deceit. I matched her gaze, and then I saw.
“Are you certain?” I asked her, very carefully.
“The sooner the better,” Necahual replied sternly. “Her kind are like children. Unless disciplined quickly, their behavior becomes a habit.”
The mention of children sealed the deal. She was indeed talking about running the soul-transfer ritual under the Flower War’s cover. My favorite saw Mother’s presence on the battlefront as an opportunity to seize in spite of her distaste for the latter.
I could see why she thought that way. The blood reserve she gave Eztli to maintain her identity wouldn’t last too long, and the conflict offered precious few opportunities to slip out of the notice of spies. Moreover, Mother’s presence and the Sapa’s closeness would offer the perfect excuse to justify why Eztli would… change.
It still presented many risks. Sugey watched me with a lighter touch than her sisters, but she wasn’t to be underestimated either. Mother’s presence would also cause her to tighten security around the camp.
Nonetheless, I knew we could pull it off with sufficient preparation. The chaos of war would make for a thick shield.
“I would appreciate it,” I replied. “But be subtle. You know how she is, being too forward too quickly might have the opposite effect.”
“Of course,” Necahual replied. She had read between the lines: I needed time to organize things, so for now she should avoid tipping our hand.
I had someone to meet with first.
Afterwards, I had Necahual and Tenoch help me pleasure Atziri as I bedded her. My concubines played with her breasts and hair while I took her with delicateness.
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That lovemaking session was very much unlike the one with Tenoch. Instead of raging lust, I welcome Atziri with gentle caresses, encouraging words, and caring kisses. I bedded her kindly, the way a husband should comfort his wife after a traumatic encounter.
In short, I focused on her pleasure over my own. I gave her a moment of unconditional love and respite.
In a way, it provided me as much joy as taking Tenoch with violent lust. I’d rarely encountered gratitude and kindness during my imperial tenure, but each of these moments had felt stronger than all of the Nightlords’ tortures combined. Father’s warmth alone made up for countless horrors.
When I looked at my past achievements, the three that came to mind were orchestrating Yoloxochitl’s death, saving my father’s soul from Xibalba, and ending the curse of the Burned Men, which felt like a greater achievement. I was proud of all three.
A part of me did enjoy helping those who deserved it, as much as another delighted in power and chaos. Neither of these two faces was stronger than the other, at least not yet. I stood on a razor-thin edge. Was this why Quetzalcoatl refused to see me? Because he could see I risked landing on the wrong side?
Whatever the case, the hard day of fighting and the bedroom exercise that followed managed to lull me to sleep. My spirit faded into the dark depths of the Underworld, back to the ruins of the second cosmos. I found Mother waiting for me among the ashes with a thin smile on her lips.
“Did it amuse you?” I asked her with a growl. “To betray your own blood?”
“Is that how you thank me for my assistance?” she replied calmly. “Those hastily woven curses of yours wouldn’t have amounted to much without my Haunt.”
I scoffed. Of course she didn’t weave that Haunt to help me slay the Sapa, but my own men. “Is that why Inkarri allowed you to cast it? In the hope that it would kill me?”
“I excluded you from the spell’s effect, but I had assumed you wished to bleed out the Nightlords’ followers.” She tilted her head to the head. “Or was I wrong?”
I admired her ability to make her deceit sound like my own fault. “You couldn’t have risen so high among the Sapa by virtue of our shared bloodline without treachery,” I retorted. “What did you tell Inkarri?”
“Lies and half-truths. He knows that you earned Tlaloc’s embers, since I knew he would suspect it the moment you entered the range of his divinations, but I have yet to inform him that you crossed this Layer’s threshold.”
“So you have been spying on me since we met.” Only the knowledge of her current position making her an invaluable asset, Father’s feelings, and the fear of catching the Skinwalker curse prevented me from strangling her on the spot. “When did you intend to tell me you were playing a double-game?”
“When needed.” Mother scoffed at my accusatory tone. “You underestimate the danger I put myself in for your sake. If the Mallquis weren’t so afraid of you–”
“My sake?” I couldn’t help but laugh at her audacity. “My sake?!”
“Yes, yours,” she hissed with clear frustration. “It would have been safer for me to flee the mountains the moment you ascended to the throne. I was put under closer scrutiny than you can imagine, and many times I feared for my life.”
“Scrutiny that which you could have avoided had you taken father and me away, instead of living the high life on your own!”
“You think I wouldn’t have arranged that if I could?” Now her voice brimmed with genuine anger. “The Nightlords never let you nor your father out of their sight since the year you were born, and by the time I was in a position to act, your father was long buried and you had already been selected as the new year’s sacrifice.”
“That doesn’t excuse not informing me of your alliance with the Sapa,” I retorted harshly. “You had no possible reason for keeping this information away from me except as leverage against me!”
“I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure if I would even be able to keep my position there once your war started! Had you given away any hint that we were working together or any reason for them to suspect me, the Mallquis would have slain me on the spot!”
I snorted with scorn at her feeble defense. “Your ability to find excuses when there is none is second to none.”
Mother clenched her jaw. “This situation is not as simple as you make it sound.”
“I am sick and tired of your lies, Ichtaca,” I said with annoyance. My patience had run thin. “Why did you keep this from me? The real reason?”
“I told you–”
“Obey.”
My Word carried the strength of the gods themselves and untied her tongue. “I didn’t think I needed to,” she said against her will, “because if I told you too much, you would have power over me.”
Such a simple answer, and yet one that spoke volumes about Mother’s mindset. I observed her in utter disbelief. What I had mistaken for malice and intrigue simply boiled down to conceit. Mother had so little concept of trust that she only shared information when she felt she had to, because the mere concept of being open without expecting something in return didn’t enter her mind.
Then again, what did I expect? She couldn’t trust her own husband—the only person to ever love her unconditionally—to see her thoughts through Seidr until she learned she could gain power from it.
“What did you tell the Sapa about me?” I asked, my question punctuated by another Word. “Answer.”
“That you were too powerful to confront, so I followed you from afar as you claimed Tlaloc’s embers. I have lied to them, both for your sake and for mine.” Mother clenched her jaw after regaining control. “Stop using the Word on me!”
I ignored her and pushed further. “What do you expect from me? Answer!”
“I want…” Mother gulped as she struggled against her own unruly tongue. A foolish fight, for all of her willpower weighed little against my sorcery “I want the power to never fear again… I want status and sorcery… I want… I want my family back… all of it…”
“Even the daughter and son you abandoned?” The fact that a part of her appeared to wish for us to reconnect didn’t miraculously erase all of her crimes. Moreover, I sensed that she still resisted my spell. “There is more. Answer.”
“I…” She gargled, her muscles tensing as the truth forced its way out of her mouth. “I want you to let your father use the Ride spell on you for a moment… because he won’t possess anyone without their consent.”
That last bit took me by surprise. Let Father possess me? What madness was that? “Why?"
“Please stop,” she pleaded, her body shaking with unease. “This… This hurts, having your voice worm its way inside my mind.”
“You brought this on yourself,” I replied as I denied her this mercy with sorcery. “Answer.”
“I…” Her voice broke in her twisted throat. “I want him to hold me in his arms for a moment, so I… so I can feel loved again.”
Her pitiful, desperate words hit me like a slap to the face.
I watched Mother collapse to her knees under the mental strain my Word put her under, my lips closed in utter silence. I had already received a glimpse of the pitiful, lonely wretch hiding behind the powerful sorceress’ mask back in Xibalba, and here her true self showed up again: a woman so insecure, so lonely, and who had burned so many bridges that she clung to the last bit of near-unconditional love she could find.
And I couldn’t help but pity her. For her to be desperate to make that demand of all things, to risk her life all for a chance to feel her husband’s affection again, then it meant the House of Fright had truly broken her.
“Cease… cease this.” Mother’s anger was gone, replaced with a tired prayer. “Please… please, my… my son.”
Even after everything, that word still carried a measure of power over me. I observed her for a moment, and while I knew that she brought much of her suffering upon herself, part of me did hold a sliver of compassion for her plight.
“I promised Queen Mictecacihuatl that I would run the Day of the Dead on her behalf,” I reminded her. “Father will be returned to life there for a night. If you were to implore the queen’s mercy–”
“She won’t forgive either of us, and you know that,” Mother cut in with bitter spite. “We’ve disappointed her too many times.”
My jaw clenched, but I did not argue. I had proved her point. The Lords of Fear taught me the Word spell in the hope that I would start to rely on it, that I would enslave rather than convince. Queen Mictecacihualt would have looked down on the both of us equally tonight.
I looked up to the sky and Quetzalcoatl’s morning star. Its radiance felt heavy; judging. I was left with the unmistakable impression of having failed some sort of invisible test.
This cannot go on like this, I realized. The two of us. We draw out the worst out of each other.
“I am…” I considered my next sentence carefully, in case my magic bound me by my promises. “I apologize for using the Word so often on you. It was not proper. I will not do so again.”
Mother didn’t believe me. “You do not regret anything.”
“Trusting is difficult, Mother, because each time I try to give you a chance, you reveal another trick or lie up your sleeve,” I retorted. “Every interaction we have feels like a dishonest transaction. I gave you a warning when we passed the Gate of the Twin-Breaths, and yet you continued to keep secrets from me.”
Mother held my gaze. “If I am useful to you no longer, you will cast me aside.”
And that was likely true. I tried to recall Father’s words of encouragement. He never relented in his hope that his family would reconnect. I was sorely tempted to summon him again, but I decided against it after a moment’s consideration. Relying on Father like a crutch to ensure Mother and I got along wouldn’t let us resolve our issues. This had to come from us.
“I…” If I was required to breathe in the Underworld, I would have taken a deep one right now. “I am willing to… fulfill your wish.”
Mother’s head rose up slightly in interest. “You… would?”
“Yes.” Father was the only person I could trust inside my head, as I knew he would never abuse his position. Mastering the Legion spell would require melding my mind with that of the Parliament of Skulls he had joined anyway, so I could at least allow it for a time. “However, I am not even sure if he could use me as a vessel. My heart and spirit are too strong. This is a slim hope, and you know it.”
“I know,” Mother confessed with a sad sigh. “But this is all I have.”
Of course it was. She had cast away everything else.
“I will not keep things from you, but I expect the same in return,” I said. “Start by telling me everything
about your time with the Sapa.”Mother waited a moment before answering, which I didn’t take as a good sign. “You aren’t using the Word this time.”
“No.” I was sorely tempted to do that, but the light of Quetzalcoatl reminded me of that spell’s cost on my soul. “I am making an effort to trust you on your word alone. Do not waste the opportunity.”
Mother pondered my words a moment, hesitated, and then took her chance.
“When I fled Yohuachanca for the south, I tried to remain beneath notice,” she said. “The Sapa do not use money nor trade. Instead, all individuals must contribute to the collective through a labor system called mit'a. The bureaucracy assigns tasks to its subjects, and in exchange they receive food, housing, and support. I was assigned the role of a midwife and healer… but it wasn’t long before their sorcerers learned of my Nahualli nature and truly recruited me.”
Mother crossed her arms. “It was then that I met those lands’ true rulers.”
‘Rulers?’ Plural? “You are not speaking of the Sapa Emperors, are you?”
“That Ayar Manco is as much of a puppet as you are, however bright he might be,” Mother replied. “Only the undead who pull his strings differ from yours.”
Aclla had failed to mention that part. “Do you speak of the Mallquis?”
“Yes. The Apu Inkarri is the greatest sorcerer among them, but far from the only one. Each clan across the Sapa Empire empowers one of these mummies with their breaths and faith, ensuring that their dead leaders continue to steer their descendants. They own the most wealth and land across the mountains, to the point the emperor can achieve little without their support.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “They can’t possibly be worse than the Nightlords.”
“And why do you think they are called the Sapa Empire?” Mother replied with a scoff. “The Mallquis rule with a lighter touch because they are numerous and require their clans’ adoration to survive, but their human ambition and greed remain undiminished. While their scale pales before ours, the Sapa do practice human sacrifice too; and since the dead own the land eternally, the living are pushed to conquer other lands in order to keep some for themselves. Those who earn enough territory ascend to the Mallquis in turn, repeating the process.”
And here I had hoped that the Sapa would have been better people than Yohuachancans… Neither merchants’ tales nor Ingrid’s information painted their country as a worse place to live in than my own empire of blood and tears, but Mother painted an uglier picture than what I’d hoped.
How disappointing.
“How does Ayar Cachi factor into this?” I inquired. Why would a puppet’s brother struggle with his kin over who wears the strings?
“I do not know exactly,” Mother replied. “Most Mallquis deemed Manco more pliable and offered him their support, but Cachi enjoys the support of other clans. They have yet to reach a consensus.”
I didn’t bother hiding my disgust. What I thought to be a brotherly power struggle more and more looked like a conflict of interest between two sets of immortal parasites who couldn’t be bothered to defend their living descendants effectively.
Maybe I’m making too many assumptions here. I’d assumed Manco and Cachi were spoiled brats who would rather fight over their father’s inheritance rather than ally against the existential threat at their doorstep, but the Mallquis’ influence put that into question. The two brothers might be playing a bigger and subtler game than I first thought. Are they plotting against their masters the same way I plan the demise of mine? How does Aclla factor into all of this?
I sensed an opportunity there, albeit one I couldn’t entirely see yet.
“The Mallquis recruited me among their sorcerers, but while I learned many things among them, in my heart I always refused to serve,” Mother said. “I simply sought to accumulate secrets and favors.”
Which she never used to free my sibling and I from the Nightlords’ clutches. I could imagine the reason why, however absurd it sounded.
“You wrote us off as dead, didn’t you?” I guessed. “Nenetl and I.”
Mother’s silence was enough of a confession.
“Since you would already need to resurrect Father, you figured you might as well make it three once the Nightlords sacrificed us all,” I said with a scoff of disdain. “It’s only when you learned of my powers that you decided to make contact.”
“I won’t deny it.” At least she owned up to that. “Once I became a goddess, I figured… I figured I could make everything right.”
And now it fell to me to inherit those foolish hopes of her.
“The Mallquis fear you more than anything else, my son,” Mother said. “Their star-seers have long predicted the coming of a demon emperor of the night who would paint their mountains red with blood and lay waste to their civilization. They believe that prophesied destroyer to be you, and you know what? I think they are right.”
Considering the planned invasion, they had good reason to think so. “I’ve seen Inkarri and other sorcerers practice a ritual in the mountains, though I could not ascertain its nature,” I said. “Can you tell me more?”
“Not yet,” she replied, dashing my hopes. “They do not trust me that much… but I suspect it involves the First Emperor’s brother in some way, since I strongly suspect he founded the Sapa Empire in ancient times.”
“It must have something to do with perception.” Our suspicions aligned on that front. “The brother of a god confronting his mad sibling’s physical incarnation would make for a grandiose tale.”
“Yes. The Sapa’s magical traditions differ from ours, but they accumulated many secrets over the centuries. Inkarri himself has existed since the empire’s founding, or so I’ve heard.” Mother looked away. “He will try to have you assassinated during the mock battles. Manco only accepted this Flower War to provide his masters with a chance to put you in the ground.”
“Those feathered corpses are welcome to try and defeat me. They will find their eternal lives much shorter.” Nonetheless, the situation did make me curious about Manco. If he was indeed bright and similar to myself, then surely part of him resented being the servant of ancient mummies. “What of Manco himself? Would he be willing to plot against the Mallquis?”
“I’ve had few encounters with him, so I cannot say. I think he would at least agree to an audience, if only to appear as a respected diplomat and warlord in the eyes of his men.”
In that case, I could ask for a peaceful meeting after a battle to discuss a prisoner exchange. Manco’s masters would no doubt accept in order to seize a chance to assassinate me, while Sugey might be convinced to let me try sowing discord in the enemy camp.
Finally, Mother’s assertion that Inkarri had existed since the Sapa Empire’s founding aroused my curiosity. He might be one of the few souls left that could give me more details about Yohuachanca’s earliest nights and provide insight into the Nightlords’ weaknesses.
I hadn’t entirely given up on finding allies among the Sapa to oppose my tormentors. Manco or Aclla could serve as potential intermediaries to develop a conspiracy, depending on which Sapa prince would serve as the better ally. I needed more information to assess their respective personalities and objectives.
“I will see how to arrange a meeting with Manco in the coming days,” I decided. “This would also serve as an excellent opportunity to run the soul-transfer ritual.”
Mother’s gaze sharpened. “You wish to transfer your consort’s soul now?”
“Yes.” With luck and preparation on our side, I could both save Eztli’s soul and lay the blame squarely at the Sapa’s feet. “Assist us and I… I will grant your wish.”
“If our ritual succeeds and your consort’s soul escapes their grasp, the Nightlords’ fury will know no bounds,” Mother warned me. “The Sapa Empire will bear the brunt of their cruelty. You understand that, do you?”
Her sharp question left me silent for a moment. She was right. I had been so focused on avoiding detection myself and blaming all ills at the Sapa’s feet that I hardly considered the scale of the Nightlords’ reaction.
Sugey had already shown her willingness to turn this Flower War from a ritualistic contest of strength to a sacrificial slaughter. Should Eztli, their replacement for Yoloxochitl, be lost, then the planned invasion of the Sapa’s lands would turn from a war of conquest to one of extermination. The Nightlords wouldn’t allow a group with the power to take out one of their own to linger in this world any longer.
They wouldn’t care for their losses nor the wealth spent on that venture. The human herd could replenish itself, after all, while the lords of darkness could hardly be replaced. Years of massacre would be a trifling price to assuage the vampires’ fear of ending up in their father’s stomach for all eternity. The best I could do then would be to blunt the scale of their atrocities, but it would look like a paltry attempt to assuage my guilty conscience.
It was then, in the light of Quetzalcoatl’s morning star, that I realized all my hopes of a good outcome for this war had been foolish from the start.
To save Eztli, to have a chance to destroy the Nightlords’ order, would require that I put the burden of my actions on others. Shaking Yohuachanca’s foundations to make their collapse possible would require that I unleash a great fire’s spark. Countless deaths and atrocities would soon lay at my feet; and while I could deceive the Nightlords, I couldn’t hide my crimes from a true god.
Lord Quetzalcoatl would never be happy with me.
He’s never going to grant me his embers after this. That distant fear had now become a certainty. No words will convince him when my actions speak far louder.
Then I sensed it.
My head turned to the side to stare at the wasteland that surrounded us. My sunlight Gaze pierced the shadows to reveal dust and silence, yet thicker darkness awaited beyond my eyesight.
Mother tensed up too. She had noticed it as well. That instinctual awareness of a predatory presence lurking nearby.
Something was watching us from afar.
Something evil.