Read Online Obsidian & Blood by Aliette de Bodard - Free Book Online Page B

the food that Father would take to the fields. Long before I took the path to my humble priesthood, back when my parents had still been proud of my thirst for knowledge.
      Lost in reminiscence, I finally reached my destination: a small, unremarkable alley, half street, half canal. At the back of the alley were the featureless walls of a huge house, one that seemed to waver in the morning light, even though there was barely any mist. 
      Magic hung thick around it: the familiar, bold strokes of Ceyaxochitl's spells, woven into a cocoon around the house, hiding it from the world. An uninitiated person could not have seen enough of that house to open its door.
      The house had two storeys, a luxury reserved for noblemen. A lush garden of poinsettias and marigolds adorned its roof. In the courtyard, pines grew by the side of a stone pool, the water within, clear, cloudless, reflecting the perfect blue of the sky. 
      "And you would be?" a voice asked.
      Startled, I turned, and met the eyes of a youth wearing the wooden collar of slaves – though he had jade and silver bracelets on his arms, and heavy amber earrings weighing down his lobes. 
      "No," I said. "I've come to see Xochiquetzal."
      His face didn't move, save for some fleeting contempt in his eyes as he scrutinised me. "A priest, eh? I don't think She wants to see your kind."
      "Someone's life is at stake," I said, more sharply than I'd intended. 
      He shrugged. "It's always the case. Life is cheap in the Fifth World, priest." He half-turned away from me, walking back into the building he had come from. 
      Life is cheap. My own brother's life, cheap?
      My fists clenched of their own volition. Before I realised it, I was halfway through the courtyard, following him into the house. 
      What stopped me wasn't anything material – but rather a slow, prickling sensation running along the nape of my neck, and spreading to my entire back, like fiery embers touching my skin: raw power, coalescing in the sunlight. I had the feeling of being watched and dissected by something vast and unknowable, though there was no one but the slave and I in the courtyard.
      The slave had turned. He watched me, his smile mocking me. "And you think this will solve anything?"
      I struggled to find words, to mouth an abject apology, but could not bring myself to. "No. Nor will your arrogant attitude. I asked for an audience."
      He spread his hands in a blaze of silver. "You did. And it's my right to refuse it."
  "You–"
      He shook his head. "Still not understanding? Defiance brings you nothing." He smiled again, displaying teeth as yellow and as neat as maize kernels. "But you're in luck. It has been a boring week. Wait here. And don't think you can look around. I'll know if you do." 
      I had no doubt he would.
      He entered one of the rooms around the courtyard, the bells jingling as he pulled aside the entrance curtain. He came out again almost immediately. "My, my. You're definitely in luck, priest. She has nothing better to do, so She'll see you."
      His arrogance was staggering, but I bit back the angry reply that came to me. I had already seen anger or despair would earn me nothing in such a house.
      The slave pointed lazily to my obsidian knives. "Those will stay outside."
      "My weapons?" I asked. He was observant: the knives, which were those of the temple, had been blessed by Mictlantecuhtli, and were saturated with His magic.
      His smile was malicious. "Consider them payment for an audience. You'll get them back – maybe."
      "I will get them back," I said, as I undid my belt and gave them to him. "Or else I won't be the only one hunting you." 
      He smiled an even wider smile. "Do you think you can touch me?"
      I wanted, desperately, to try – to summon a minor deity from the underworld, to teach him fear and humility. But I knew I couldn't. He was Xochiquetzal's, and I'd already seen what kind of power She