It was a routine funeral service, but that was no excuse to be sloppy. Cuauhtli—age 56, heart attack—deserved better than that. So Acatl and Ichtaca were still standing vigil over him past midnight, though Acatl for his part had been up since dawn and his hands were starting to shake. He ignored it. He was fine.
And then came the next line of the funeral hymn, and he had to stop to hold back an entirely inappropriate yawn. High Priest of the Dead with Mictlan’s power coursing through his veins or not, he was inconveniently mortal.
Worse, Ichtaca had noticed. “I’m calling Palli to take over for us,” he said with a tone that suggested Acatl had no choice in the matter.
Obsidian & Blood, Ichtaca & Acatl
It was a routine funeral service, but that was no excuse to be sloppy. Cuauhtli—age 56, heart attack—deserved better than that. So Acatl and Ichtaca were still standing vigil over him past midnight, though Acatl for his part had been up since dawn and his hands were starting to shake. He ignored it. He was fine.
And then came the next line of the funeral hymn, and he had to stop to hold back an entirely inappropriate yawn. High Priest of the Dead with Mictlan’s power coursing through his veins or not, he was inconveniently mortal.
Worse, Ichtaca had noticed. “I’m calling Palli to take over for us,” he said with a tone that suggested Acatl had no choice in the matter.
By now, Acatl knew better than to argue.