Naamah's Blessing

said in a firm voice. “I will do no less. Moirin, your visions have guided you truly thus far. I will trust that the gods have sent you, and put my faith in them. Whatever I may do to aid you, I will do.”
    My eyes stung. “Thank you, my lord. I will try to be worthy of it.”
    Thierry smiled wryly, turning his empty hands palm upward. “I fear it is a hollow gesture. I have little aid to give.”
    “You’ve your wits,” I said. “I’ve need of good counsel. In Qusqu, we must find a way for Bao to take the place of the high priest in the Temple of the Ancestors. And we must do so without harming any of the priesthood.”
    “Is there aught with which you might drug them?” Thierry suggested promptly. “In the tales of yore, Phèdre nó Delaunay used a tincture of opium to drug the men of Dar˘sanga.”
    I blinked at his swift reply. “No, not that I know of… but if such a thing exists here, I know who
would
know it.”
    “Eyahue,” Bao said.
    I nodded. “Exactly.”
    Thierry frowned. “Are you sure you can trust those Nahuatl? The big warrior obeyed Raphael without a moment’s hesitation.”
    “It is their way,” I said. “Temilotzin knew your men were doomed, your highness. He granted a swift death to one, and the mercy blow to the other when I begged him.”
    “Through great hardship, Eyahue and Temilotzin have shown great loyalty,” Bao added. “I trust them as much as any man in our company.”
    After a pause, Thierry nodded. “I take you at your word. What, then, of the coming war? Is there no way to avert it?”
    “I fear not,” I said soberly. “It is not only Raphael who hungers for it. You saw Prince Manco in the throne-hall. He is a bloodthirsty idiot eager to see his own father overthrown. The men of Vilcabamba are eager for this war.”
    “Yearning for greatness,” Thierry murmured. “Even as my own yearning set this tragedy in motion.”
    I took his hands in mine. “It is not a tragedy yet, my lord. Let us pray that we may yet avert the worst.”
    He squeezed my hands in reply. “I do.”

SIXTY-SIX

    S ince I was forbidden contact with anyone save the Maidens of the Sun, the following day, I sent Machasu to arrange for a clandestine meeting with Eyahue in the living quarters adjacent to the temple.
    “Why do you want such a thing?” the old
pochteca
asked upon hearing my inquiry. “Do you think you can drug Lord Pachacuti and escape?” He waved one hand at my entourage of ants. “You cannot drug
them
.”
    “I know,” I said. “Eyahue, at this point, the less you know, the safer you are. Only tell me, do you know of such an herb? Could you obtain it?”
    He pursed his wrinkled lips. “There is one, but it is dangerous. Very dangerous.
Wurari
. It is the poison the blow-dart hunters use.”
    “I don’t want to kill anyone!” I said in alarm.
    “In very small amounts, it does not kill,” Eyahue said. “It only makes the victim unable to move for a time.” He shrugged. “But too much, and they cannot breathe—and I do not know the amounts.”
    “You could try it on me, lady,” Machasu offered, her voice trembling a little. “I do not mind.”
    I winced. “No. It’s too dangerous.”
    “Or you could try it on small animals first,” Eyahue suggested pragmatically. “That is what the hunters do to be sure they have a killing dose.”
    “A much better idea,” I said in relief. “Can you obtain it?”
    He gave me a long, unreadable look. “Aye, I can. And I will do so now with no questions asked. But before you put it to its final use, I want to know what your purpose is. Do you swear to tell me?”
    “I do.” I hugged him. “Thank you, Eyahue!”
    He scowled at me. “Thank the Emperor Achcuatli for giving you such a wise guide!” His scowl turned into a leer. “You must have given him quite a night’s pleasure to inspire such generosity.”
    Despite everything, I laughed. “You may be sure of it, old man.”
    Eyahue was as good as his word. In a day’s time, a small earthenware jar sealed with wax and a wooden stopper was sent to me in care of the Maidens of the Sun. Machasu delivered it to my quarters, along with a brimming bowl of liquid made from fermented
maize
.
    “
Chicha
,” she said in explanation. “The Maidens of the Sun brew it. It is drunk at all great celebrations.”
    “So we are to mix the poison in it?” I sniffed at the bowl, then glanced at the half-dozen caged lizards that were to be the subject of our first