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The door opened, and another ragamuffin pushed in. "Papers, from General
Haidan." He set the sealed packet on her desk.
Dihana regarded the unexpected intrusion. "Sabotage map?" She was expecting a
map of sabotage locations and a summary of damage.
"And something else."
She looked up at the small girl, who still stared at her. "How did you all
escape?" Dihana asked.
"We didn't." The oldest boy shivered. "They sent us ahead. We it."
Dihana looked up at the ragamuffin who'd brought them into her office. "We
don't have much space, everyone try-ing to make do, but that man behind you
will get you some food, and a place to stay."
They shuffled out. The ragamuffin who'd delivered the map waited for the door
to close. "Brewer's
Village?"
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"The last from it, yes."
"They say the Azteca sacrifice over half the village."
"Yes." Dihana waved him quiet. She'd suffered hearing it from the actual
survivors coming into the city, and all she could think about was seeing
everyone in Capitol City die before her eyes. She unrolled the package,
setting aside a clutch of letters to look at the map she wanted. "So it's not
just weapons they're after," she murmured. "It's the grain." The Azteca must
know that Capitol City would be a long, long siege. They were doing their best
to soften it ahead of time with their spies.
"Trying to starve we from the inside," the ragamuffin said.
"Here." Dihana looked up from the map. "Take as many ragamuffins as you can,
and tell the mongoose-men in Tolteca-town that this is one of their tasks from
now on: block off Tolteca-town from everyone else street by street. Any
Tolteca outside Tolteca-town will be picked up and returned, or jailed if they
do it again."
"They go revolt."
"Haidan has the mongoose-men tearing up track, looking to destroy the couple
bridges between
Harford and here. But when the Azteca hit the Triangle Tracks, it won't be
long before they come here.
In that time the spies in Tolteca-town can do much damage. We can't afford
it." On her side Dihana had gotten silos filled, helped the fishermen build
new boats with armor and cannon on them to sustain them with fresh fish during
the attack. She'd shut down banks, seized businesses, and declared emergency
conditions. Every night handbills and criers circulated, explaining what she
was trying to do, how they must all stand together.
"Okay." The ragamuffin stared straight at her.
"Someone inform Xippilli before the command goes out, though. Give him an
escort to come straight here if he wants. He'll be angry."
The ragamuffin nodded and withdrew.
Dihana turned to look at the letters. The top was just a scribbled note from
Haidan:
This is my little secret, and why I think the trip north is so important
.
Underneath was an older slip of paper. "Dear Stucky," Dihana read.
She almost changed her mind when she finished, wondering what was hidden away
in the cold north of the world. A machine, a weapon . . . but what was the use
of an archaeological expedition right now?
They would either shatter the Azteca at the foot of their walls or fall to
their knives. Trying to study the past now would take too long.
And they needed all the airships to defend the city. Haidan, of all people,
should have realized that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Oaxyctl navigated the warrenlike streets of Capitol City in a daze. He kept to
the shadows, away from people, and followed a street-by-street pattern from
memorized instructions a year old until he passed into a dingy collection of
buildings.
Tolteca-town.
He relaxed a bit. It was like home away from home: signs in Nahuatl,
occasional snatches of familiar-sounding conversation.
It hadn't occurred to him until this moment, but he'd been the only
brown-skinned person among all the darker Nanagadans. Now he didn't stand out
as much with his straight fringe of black hair.
Oaxyctl stopped a woman with a laundry basket balanced on her head.
"Could you give me directions to Xippilli's house," he asked. Xippilli, he'd
been told, was the most respected of the Tolteca in Capitol City and would be
easy to ask for by name. The woman gave him instructions that took Oaxyctl
straight to a two-story brownstone, where a number of Tolteca lounged around
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the front.
"I am looking for Cipactli," Oaxyctl said. "Do you know of him?"
They looked him over. "We'll take you to him."
Cipactli worked for Xippilli as an adviser, Oaxyctl determined by looking over
the parchment on
Cipactli's desk. Cipactli himself came into the room, dressed in a black suit
with a silver tie.
He walked over and fiddled with the desk drawer, then looked up. "I'm sorry,"
he said with an even face, "I've never seen you before."
"I am Iccauhtli," Oaxyctl said. "New to the city. I presume to ask if you
would be generous enough to show kindness to a stranger."
"I am sorry, my brother." Cipactli stopped moving papers around. "I can not .
. . offer you help. But let me give you some money."
He handed Oaxyctl a few coins, and something else, feathery, to Oaxyctl's
palm.
"You are generous, my lord." Oaxyctl snapped his hand shut. "I will not forget
this."
Cipactli ushered him out the door.
Only farther down the road did Oaxyctl unclench his fist and look at the
coins. A tiny piece of paper lay between them, giving him Cipactli's home
address. Be here in thirty minutes, it said.
Oaxyctl ate the paper and put the coins in his pocket.
Oaxyctl lit a match and watched Cipactli flinch. The dim yellow light danced
off the rocky walls and sturdy wooden beams. Dust patterns swirled in front of
the match, disturbed by the movement.
"Greetings, fellow quimichtin,"
Oaxyctl said.
"What is your need?" Cipactli walked farther into his own basement. "I have to
be careful now.
Mongoose-men are everywhere. It is tense."
"A god has charged me with a mission."
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