Chapter 15: Flipping a Coin

The room seemed warmer than it had been when he left, despite the massive gaping hole in the wall. Rubble was removed and everything looked as clean and….ragged around the edges as it could. The cloth and things he had acquired over years were ruined by the weather. The silk on the bed could have looked better. But it was home and here he…rather she… was safe. What was alarming…was the mother ship hovering above the city. Not only did it give the entire province a shadow, but the lights on it (made to give off heat and not light) were glowing red. A sign of some problem or calamity. He shook his head and attempted to forget the ship. No one had come to tell him to leave or to growl at him for missing many days of guard duty. So it was obviously none of his concern. He looked at Xochiyotl again and watched her attempt to clean up some dust on the bed sheets. She was pale and still somewhat sick from her wounds. He shook his head and walked out onto the ruined side of a building. Something still addled his skin and made his dread-locks curl. Something was wrong.

The city market was normal, well, rather as normal as one could get on a night like this one. It made him feel normal too. The sun was setting and people were making last minute deals. Children ran around dirty and annoying. But as the shadows became larger things grew silent and the Aztecs ran for the safety of their houses. They did not want to be stolen in the crossroads of the night. The spot he guarded from on the temple was barren, his form missing among the shadows. The sound of his weapons clacked against his armor and his sandals made indentions in the hard dirt. The people were no different than when he had left. Everything was…unchanging. In a way Cit'lal-I loved this perpetual life, and in some his new heart, the one that had sprung to life after saving Xochyotl, hated that he was the only thing changed. This life, the one he had lived for far too long, was no longer familiar. And as the hunter walked among the humans and the other of his kind he was…bitter. Cit'lal-I shook his head and cleared his thoughts. First he had to bathe and then he must find someone to heal his wounds as well as those of his little Xochyotl. Hers were more pressing. But as of now the scent boiling off of his skin was repulsive. He shifted his walk toward the hot springs at the end of the city and to the Temples of the Waters that watched over them. The temples were pristine and clean and everything had to do with the liquid of life. Cit'lal-I let a human male lead him to a solitary pool and it dropped cleaning supplies at the base before bowing and nearly running away. The Hunter shook his head and annoyance and began to dishcloth his armor. The water was soothing to his skin and he cleaned vigorously. His cuts oozed gross liquid and greened at his touch. The blood was fighting something… When his skin was nearly aching the hunter poured on Papaya Oil to hydrate and doused his hair in it. The poor dreadlocks were nearly rigid with lack of water. As the hunter "brushed" his fangs with soap leaves he looked to the roof of the room he was in. The sky's likeness had been carved into the dome ceiling and the constellations that were important to the Aztecs were emphasized with odd moss. The hunter relaxed into the waters and watched the steam swirl around him and every motion he made. What would he give to bathe like this with Xochyotl? To hunt for her? To really live with her? He couldn't think of something he would not give…

Honor.

The voice of the Hunter God resounded in Cit'lal-I's head. The Amini frowned. Was the God watching him always? Awkward. True, he could not give up his honor for such a thing as love. It would be a disgrace to the entire race. Wouldn't it? The male growled at himself for his situation and stood from the waters.

Cit'lal-I hissed a little as he walked alone through the streets. More flowers, more greenery came into view as he came upon his destination. The temple he stopped at was covered in flowers and soil. The Temple of Life smelt too sweet and musty for his liking but then again it was the opposite of his station and those Amini who served it were mostly women and elderly those who were still formidable but would rather defend life than take it. The exact reason for his visit. He walked the stairs with a heaviness that hurt his shoulders and legs. He was tired, much as he hated to admit it. The trek back to the city was longer with the skull of a Dragon and a wounded girl with him than he would have liked. He hoped he wouldn't have to do that again. The last step of this dread Temple seemed three stories tall. The climb was meant to teach the traveler that life was hard but the payoff at the top was worth it. Promoting life was ridiculous, Cit'lal-I thought. As he stopped to look at the vines and flowers that should not have been able to grow on the rock he watched baby birds flutter in a nest of twigs and flower buds. There were too many patron Goddesses for this temple to count. He shook his head and stepped heavily through the drapery of silk that served as a front door. The hall within was airy and spacious. More flowers. Cit'lal-I snuffled and watched as three females approached him.

"Why here so early? Mating season does not start for seven more days." The first was a purple female with black spots on her. She would have been beautiful had her hair not been shorn short.

"He is not come for mating stupid." Another, obviously her sister for her color and markings were the same, shouted. Her eyes were yellow.

"Silence yourself! He will not you!" the first hissed.

"Me over you any day!" the second swung a claw.

"You two silence. He is not come for mating at all. What is it you desire? I smell infection on you." The third was the tallest and most obviously the oldest. She hung flowers from her dreadlocks, which almost touched the ground. Her skin was almost too pale.

"I come for a… slave of mine own." Cit'lal-I was almost uncomfortable admitting it.

"Sick is it? We will heal it tell me its ailments." The third smiled kindly.

"The infection on me is hers." Cit'lal-I offered his arm for her to scent better.

"No, this infection I smell is yours, although you have tried of cleanse yourself of it. were it so easy… She must be worse. Cit'lal-I is your calling yes? We know of your feats with the God of the Sky." The third, the eldest, reared back and covered her mouth with a large sleeve.

"How?" Cit'lal-I hissed.

"Hard to miss the hole in the Temple of Death." The eldest smiled balefully. "I am sister to Yao-tl. She who accompanied you." She added.

"Oh. Then you understand my…problem." Cit'lal-I felt a blush coming on, one of embarrassment.

"Your one of many, yes. Bring her at first light and we will heal her… and you as well Amini." the eldest female began to push herself away from him. Healers had a particular sense of smell.

"Very well. And…mating season soon?" Cit'lal-I cocked his head.

"Your emotions are not affected?" the first girl giggled. She was most obviously a virgin.

"They are….I did not make the connection of it." Cit'lal-I ignored her looks of longing.

"Curious." The second female frowned. She shrugged and turned to follow the eldest out.

Cit'lal-I turned abruptly and began to walk away. The steps would be much easier when he went down and his aching body would love it. The air outside was almost too fresh. The moon was only half full right now, something that was interesting to him now that he knew she really was a goddess. He lost himself among the stars and shook his head to clear the mugginess. How could he have forgotten mating season? That would explain the way Yoa-tl had looked at him on the way back to the city. She could have shot ice spikes from her eyes. He shook his head. He would have to distance himself from Xochyotl very soon or he might lose control. Or worse, she might let him. The Hunter stared up at the night sky, wondering how he had managed to get himself in a situation like this one. How could he shove her away and explain to her that it was for her own good? He shook his head and walked down the steps, hoping something might come to mind.

The room was drafty to say the least. The bed was messed up and everything was…in order? Cit'lal-I looked to the chair that had been thrown aside in the Dragon attack. There it sat and in in curled up was the little woman. Cit'lal-I growled. He hissed a little and walked to pick her up. She was slight, skinnier after this whole ordeal than she had been. Perhaps more fragile too? The Hunter sighed and lifted her to the bed, or what was left of it. He covered her and looked out the hole in the wall, or rather the hole that took the wall. How could he explain? How could he reject her even after everything she had done to save his soul? The Hunter watched the moon play overhead and even as the sun began to chase her away. May be he would go on a hunt? No…because bottling up the lust that came with a mating season would not bode well when he returned. What could he do? She shifted in the bed, her hair stirring her scent and her cheeks giving a sunken glow. She looked too weak. He couldn't have her if he wanted, he'd snap her in half. The intensity would be…too much. Something moved to the left of him and Cit'lal-I whipped around to face the Weeping Spear nestled against the wall. It gave an eerie glow and shifted enough to snap to the ground.

Tlen tlanequiliztli mochihua, tlanequiliztli moyetztica. what will be, will be.

The voice that sang in his mind was inviting and warm. Not the Hunter God's words indeed. Cit'lal-I took that as a sign to simply shut up and quit complaining. He frowned and turned to Xochyotl again, her sleeping form giving him some comfort.

When she awoke she was nestled up against the back of something very warm. As the scaly skin came into focus she had to resist jumping up to bow. Instead she didn't move and her aching gouges and cuts thanked her for her mercy. The musky smell of him was all over her and for some reason she didn't mind washing herself in it. Just as she was about to fall asleep again something rattled against the floor of the room. She started, jumping up and crying out at the inflicted wounds. Grumbling the girl climbed over the bed toward the edge. The Weeping Spear lay on the ground giving a faint glow. She frowned at it and gasped when she felt the bed stir. Whirling around she gasped again at the close proximity to the Hunter. He stared right at her with his blue orbs, startling her into staring back. They were close, nearly touching faces and yet… something felt right about it. She smiled, snapping him out of his odd stupor and he backed up. Looking down like he was she gasped at the pool of blood forming on the bed. It was staining the sheets! Xochyotl jumped up and hit the ground hard, letting out a mushy squish with her. She shivered in pain and grasped her leg, where the most problematic wound lay. The blood coated her hands as she fought to keep both her composure and to keep the male rushing toward her away.

"One can achieve disease from thing! Stay away!"

"Not my kind Xochyotl. You must see the priestesses I have arranged for. Let me deliver you there."

"Carry me? I cannot allow that! You are an Amini to touch me is to…." Her voice faded away.

"I will if you like it or not." And he scooped her up as quickly as he could and rushed for the door.

The people hardly glanced at the pair as Cit'lal-I rushed and left a trail of blood in his wake. Xochyotl had stopped struggling and was looking paler than normal. He shook his head and began to bound up the stairs, ignoring comments from other hunters and priests and people alike. When he reached the top step the Hunter dropped to his knees and Xochyotl hit the ground with a thump. He heaved in breaths as he moved toward her. A few inches from her body a hand shot out to lift her. The clothing gave the person away and Cit'lal-I let the priestess of his species lift the human in her arms. He stood, still huffing, and was surprised. Had she been this tall last night? She towered over him but the scent was not the same…

"You are out of shape to let this staircase overcome you." The voice was too familiar and the cloth hiding her face blew aside in the wind.

"You are priestess Toa-tl?!" Cit'lal-I gasped.

"What did you expect? I am Worrier-Priestess to this clan. My elder….much elder sister spoke with you last night I assume? She was waiting for you by the baths. Come, this one's bleeding too heavily and we will have to stunt it before we can stitch her." Toa-tl frowned and carried away the girl, his girl.

Cit'lal-I sighed and shook his head. He couldn't have imagined. There weren't that many Worrier-Priestess left in their species. It was much too hard to learn both trades. Cit'lal-I grumbled and followed the over-dressed priestess into the temple hoping something would stop the bleeding. He watched, as he walked, humans rush to clear the blood from their temple. The scrubbed and cleaned and followed Toa-tl as she walked toward the baths and her elder sister waiting. The staircases spiraled and wound until something like a hot spring came into view. There were plants even down here and if not for his heat-like vision he would not have been able to see through the fog.

"Humans cannot come down here, the fog is too thick and the fumes from the salt baths too much for their fragile lungs. However, it would do this one some benefit from her trip in the ocean and her wounds will heal much nicer down in these depths." Toa-tl frowned at the girl and gave her to the elder sister.

"This one fought a Dragon and lived? Interesting, someone must be looking out for her above our world." The Elder sister watched with a critical eye. She turned parts of the human's body this way and that, eyeing the flesh wounds and frowning at the cuts.

"There are too many bruises, what did you do throw her against, a mountain?" the Elder growled.

"Well….dragon should explain it well enough."

"You are…an idiot." Yao-tl frowned.

The two sisters conversed in whispered tones, pointing and prodding for a few moments before Xochyotl began to grumble. The elder then began to remove the human's tattered clothing with scrutiny.

"Turn you head lecher." Toa-tl hissed.

Cit'lal-I's eyes opened and he gave a grunt, but spun on his heel. He could hear the sloshing of water and the sigh of contentment.

"The blood is stopping" Toa-tl said after a few moments. "She will heal. I must return to the surface for sewing supplies and poultices. You would do well to attend me."

"I wish to-" Cit'lal-I began. The look he received from the two women gave him the chills. "Very well" he sighed.

The stairs took much less time to climb; he figured it was an odd way of illusion. Before he could count the minutes they were at the top again. The room she led him to smelt of acid and rotting plants. He covered his nose with his arm and hissed.

"Relax you will live. The scent is not that overbearing."

"Says one whom lives in It." his remark was quick and muffled.

There was a silence between them that he knew was caused by the upcoming mating season. He narrowed his eyes and clacked his mandibles together. Females were frustrating, why wouldn't they just get to the point?

"Have you given any thought to it?" Toa-tl broke the silence with a whisper.

"What?" Cit'lal-I was surprised by her question.

"You are not that dense." She frowned at him. "are you?"

"Yes I have. My…decision will be based on hers." Cit'lal-I stood with shoulders squared in honor.

"And you hope for the worst outcome." Toa-tl sighed.

"Indeed. The worst." He cocked his eyebrows.

"And if she carries? They will-" she turned toward him fully.

"Silence." Cit'lal-I cut her off with a growl that was too threatening for mere conversation.

Toa-tl frowned at his resolve. This would end badly. She shook her head and frowned deeper. With potions in hand she shoved past the smaller male and began a brisk walk down the stairs once more.

Cit'lal-I barely noticed the clacking of his metal sandals against the stone steps. He didn't hear the praises of the Amini aimed at him as he walked downward. He didn't notice the hisses from Toa-tl. His mind was all for Xochyotl, the flowers that she reminded him of, and the scent of fresh soil and laughter that came from her. Her voice…

How could he do this? He had given up, a while ago, on resisting her. Now it was a different thing he was aiming for, looking at the other side of the coin. Make her love me. And he kept praying to whatever God or Goddess would listen and oblige.