Jaguar Princess (32 page)

He shook his head. “No. The priests have made their inspection. They will not return. Take the chamber that you and Nine-lizard used, or if you fear that the transformation might come upon you again, sleep in the box that I built you. It will block out all scents.” He hesitated. “And I will not have the door latched from the outside unless you ask it of me.”

With those last words, she realized, he had freed her. Was it that he recognized the futility of keeping her body captive while her will fought against him? Or was it that he did understand and was starting to respect her for her choice.

She asked, “If…anyone…does come tonight, will you wake me?”

“Yes,” Wise Coyote answered and she knew he would keep the promise. Slowly she went out of the room and let the door flap drop behind her.

As she lay on her pallet in the wooden box that night, her thoughts were a tangle. As she thought of Nine-lizard, she clenched her fists. It was not only anger at Wise Coyote for having let the old man fall into unfriendly hands; it was anger at Nine-lizard himself for meddling in her life and then disappearing and leaving her a difficult choice. And no one to counsel her in making it.

It was by Nine-Lizard’s doing that she had come to Wise Coyote’s court. His inability or unwillingness to stand up to Wise Coyote when the king had tried to turn her gifts to his own uses had contributed to her escape and her frenzied attack on Huetzin. Her rage flared, making her wish that she had never seen the old man’s wrinkled face or heard his scratchy reproving voice.

If you hadn’t, you would probably be dead
, a more sensible part of her replied. It was true. Had Nine-lizard not stopped the enraged young priest who had run at her with his dagger that day in the House of Scribes, she would have been slain. If he hadn’t managed to smooth over the incident and then persuade Wise Coyote to give her refuge, she would have been given to the priests of Hummingbird. It was Nine-Lizard who contacted the elusive Jaguar’s Children in hopes of finding her a better life among her own kind. Even if they did not come, or they were not what she wished, she owed Nine-Lizard far more than she wished to admit.

With her chin between her hands and her elbows propped up on her knees, she thought hard. She could not turn her back on Nine-Lizard and go off with the Jaguar’s Children, even if it was what he wished.

Wise Coyote had said that he would attempt to save Nine-Lizard from the priests of Hummingbird, even if it meant walking into the trap set by Tenochtitlan’s ruler. Mixcatl knew that if the king of Texcoco went, it would be to his death. Wise Coyote had already been accused of sorcery and heresy because of her. It would be easy for Ilhuicamina to make the charges official, subject Wise Coyote to a mock court and then have him sacrificed.

The image of Texcoco’s king bent back over the stone altar while the priests tore out his heart made Mixcatl freeze even in the warmth of her blankets. She might have locked wills with Wise Coyote, even hated him at times, but she could not condemn him to that fate.

Even if he wishes to die as punishment or an escape from what he has done
.

And there was more. As little as she had known the people of Texcoco, she sensed in them a certain liveliness and love of freedom and life that had been stripped from the citizens of the Aztec state. A young man such as Huetzin could not have grown up in Tenochtitlan. Art, literature, poetry, sculpture; all flourished here, nurtured by a leader who would not let fear of the gods extinguish the human spirit.

All that would be threatened in the coming war against the Aztecs. If the last free city-state within the empire lost its ruler, then all certainly would be destroyed.

So then. It was clear. Wise Coyote could not go. She would have to act in his place; otherwise the old scribe who was her friend and mentor would be slain.

MixcatI wondered how long Ilhuicamina would wait before deciding that the fish was too wary to take the hook. And she—how long did she have before the Jaguar’s Children came to fetch her away?

“Well, with Nine-lizard gone, they may not come at all,” she muttered, but the thought gave her little comfort and even less sleep.

MixcatI saw red through her eyelids and heard the low crackle of a torch. Someone shook her shoulder.

A voice that she knew as Wise Coyote’s whispered above her head. “I have done as you asked me. The messenger from the Jaguar’s Children has arrived.”

She blinked and pushed herself up on her hands, feeling cross and grumpy, for she knew she had not gotten enough sleep. Her irritability made her suspicious.

“How do you know he is really from the Jaguar’s Children? It could be a trick, and he could have been sent by those priests who were trying to find me.”

“He said that you would know him when you saw him. And. if you were reluctant to come along, he told me to show you this.” Wise Coyote opened his palm, revealing a tooth. It was as large as the first joint of his thumb and it had sharp jagged edges for scissoring meat. Mixcatl recognized it at once, for her own back teeth had taken on the same shape even before the rest of her body transformed. She remembered how the reshaped teeth felt as her tongue rasped against them.

Even so, the priests could have sent a man with a jaguar tooth.

“The messenger told me to tell you that he could answer the question of why you would not float in the canal.”

Hurriedly she slipped her feet into her sandals and drew a cloak about her shoulders.

Wise Coyote watched her quizzically. “I told him that to me the question was meaningless. He replied that you would certainly understand.”

“I do. It means—“

Wise Coyote held up a hand. “Do not explain it to me now. The messenger waits in my chambers.”

He held the heavy door of her chamber open for her as she scrambled out of the wooden room. She knew her face was flushed with anticipation as she walked down the torchlit halls of Tezcotzinco. This messenger was no dupe of the priests if he knew that secret about her. There was only one place he could have learned it, only one other person who knew.

She rounded a comer, hurrying to catch up with Wise Coyote’s longer stride. And then they were through a door flap and into the chamber where the messenger sat waiting.

Mixcatl knew the messenger even before he shrugged back the hood of his rough cloak. There was no mistaking that spare loose-limbed body, even if it was now that of a man instead of a boy.

The lean brown face was stronger, the eyes deeper, though just as mischievous. But the black patch above the upper lip was still there. She saw Wise Coyote’s eyes widen as he also recognized Latosl.

“You see, nobleman,” Latosl said to Wise Coyote. “She came, just as I said she would.” He turned to Mixcatl. “And you, who have grown from a little stone statue to a great one, do you now know what you are?”

She held up the jaguar’s tooth that Wise Coyote had given her. She swallowed hard. How much did Latosl know about what had happened here; her transformation, the attack on Huetzin, the threat from the priests of Hummingbird?

And then a new question formed in her mind, prompted by the flickering of yellow in Latosl’s eyes and the easy grace of his movements.

“Are you…the same as me?” she asked, wondering if she was at last looking upon a man of her own kind.

“You are you and can be no other. I am the same.”

“That’s no answer. It can be taken two ways.”

“Take either one you wish,” he answered lightly and his eyes danced like sunlight on the canal.

She was determined not to let him elude her. “Are you one of the Jaguar’s Children? Do you change?”

“I am what you might call a helper. And you will find that all things change.”

Mixcatl felt her lack of sleep build her irritability into annoyance. She was about to say something sharp when Wise Coyote gently interposed. “I think she means to ask if you are also a were-jaguar.”

Latosl made a face. “Ugh. What an ugly word, even in your sweet-tongued language. It sounds like an imitation of an animal, which I am not, thank goodness.”

Mixcatl felt herself glower, while Wise Coyote looked at her and shrugged his shoulders as if to say “I did try.” “The night passes quickly,” he said. “You said that your boat is moored at the quay below. I will come with you.”

“You need not,” she said. “I trust this messenger, even if I cannot get any straight answers from him.”

“I will escort you to the quayside,” said Wise Coyote firmly, reminding her that he still was a king.

He took a blanket from among those folded on the floor and wrapped it about her. Then he
shouldered into a hooded cloak and beckoned both of them out the door.

It was misty outside as she half trotted between her two companions along the paths that wound through the gardens to the cliff and the steep stairway down to the quay. The wind that blew during the day had slackened, leaving the night heavy and still. Moisture beaded on late-blooming flowers and fell with a sound like a deer’s footsteps.

Mixcatl found herself testing the air about her, all senses sharpening for the signs of prey. She caught herself, recognizing the first signs of change. It must not happen! Not here, not now.

She clamped her hand across her nose, even though she had not actually caught any prey scent, and hurried ahead, nearly dragging her two companions with her.

Down the stone stair they went, single file. Mixcatl found it harder to balance with just one hand, but she dared not take the other from her face. And then, finally, they were at the bottom and on the stone quay.

She had half expected to be greeted by the smell and shape of the old refuse barge, but instead a sleek high-sided canoe rode at its mooring. Several cloaked and hooded men sat in it, and as the party approached, she saw the glint of eyes and the flash of moonlight on wet paddles. Somehow she had thought Latosl had come alone. Now she saw that he had not and it made the thought of the coming journey more real to her. Yes, he would have to have companions, for one man could not paddle the breadth of Lake Texcoco. Were they from the Jaguar’s Children? Perhaps they would answer the questions that Latosl evaded.

Mixcatl wondered if the canoe would go directly to the settlement without making any other stops. She had thought of escaping from the settlement and making her way back to the Aztec capital in order to free Nine-Lizard. If the canoe touched land anywhere else, she could slip away and walk overland to the city. Or, if the landing place was another harbor, she could hide aboard a boat bound for the open market in Tenochtitlan.

She glanced at Latosl, who was talking with Wise Coyote.
If he knew what I intend, he would have me heavily guarded during the journey
. She wondered if Wise Coyote had any suspicions. No, she decided. The king would never guess that she would try to free Nine-Lizard before he made his own attempt. Would he even wait? If so, how long?

If I fail, he may have to intercede for both of us. Or perhaps not—I will probably be dead
.

She shivered despite the blanket and the cloak, then yawned. She was not looking forward to the task she had set herself. It would be so much easier just to stay on the canoe and let Latosl take her to the settlement and a new life.

She jumped when Latosl tapped her on the shoulder. “The king wishes a few words with you before you board.”

She looked over to the figure of Wise Coyote, outlined by the shimmering surface of the lake. He looked very much alone.

Mixcatl went to him. He seemed distracted, staring out across the lake waters. Then abruptly he jerked his head back to her.

“Men have spoken of my poetic eloquence,” he said, “but tonight, I have none. This is where we part, Mixcatl, with many things still unspoken, and feelings unexpressed.” He took her hand, stroked it softly, looked down. The gleaming black of his hair shone beneath the circlet of shadowed turquoise that was his crown. “For any harm I have done you, please forgive me. I thought a wise man would be immune to obsession. I have found that it is not true.”

Mixcatl found the corners of her eyes stinging. For an instant she wished she were not leaving him to face what he knew was coming—the war with the Aztecs and the temple that would soon be rising in his city. Many conflicts already pulled at her and this was one more.

“For any harm I have done you, please forgive me,” she said, echoing his own words. “I thought once that I loved Huetzin and only resented you. Now things no longer seem so clear. I know you better now and I do not hate you.”

“To know that lightens my heart,” he said, laying his hands on her shoulders. “For your sake, I will do the best I can for Huetzin and for Nine-Lizard.”

“Do not forget yourself,” said Mixcatl softly, and found herself raising one hand to touch his face. He drew her to him slowly and placed a light kiss on her brow.

“May you find what you are seeking,” he whispered.

“May you find peace,” she answered, then turned quickly and strode to Latosl, who was waiting to help her into the canoe.

As she took her place on the thwarts, she felt the craft moving, the thump as the mooring rope was cast aboard and then the rocking as Latosl swung himself aboard.

As the canoe turned, she lifted her head for a last look at Wise Coyote. He was there, not standing and looking out after her as she half feared but striding down the quay. His shadow melted into that cast by the overhang of the cliff and he was gone.

She ducked her head into her hood and pulled her blanket tightly around her against the damp cold rising off the lake.

For a long time, she heard no sound except the rush of water past the canoe and the steady dip of paddles. Then there were footsteps in the bottom of the canoe and a creak as someone came to sit beside her.

Despite the damp chill and the wind of their motion, he put back his hood.

“The king has an elegant palace, doesn’t he? I wonder how many slaves died to build it.”

Mixcatl glanced sideways at Latosl from the edge of her hood. How Tezcotzinco had been raised was not something she had wondered about. She did not like the thought that Wise Coyote had probably given orders that had resulted in death or injury for workers. Erecting such structures was no easy job. A block or beam could shift and tumble down on the gangs that raised it.