Doctor Who_ Left-Handed Hummingbird - Kate Orman [101]
‘It must have been a disappointment when the conquistadors came.’
‘No,’ said Huitzilin. ‘Half the population were killed in the battles, and thousands of the survivors died of smallpox. It was a banquet. I didn’t have to lift a finger. As usual.’
‘You pushed the Aztecs into conquest.’
‘We both know I didn’t. Tlacaelel’s suggestions were always politically expedient. The dedication of the Great Temple was attended by nearly every enemy leader in the region. They were terrified. Kept them cowed for years. The Aztecs were superb warriors. If I hadn’t been there, they just wouldn’t have been as efficient.’
‘And you left with the Spaniards.’
‘I’ve travelled the world. Going wherever the action is hottest. I’ve never had to sing for my supper. Disappearances in Chile. Famine in East Timor. China fighting Viet Nam. Rhodesia fighting itself. Terrorists in Brazil. A menu, a great menu spread out for me. I have caused nothing.’
‘Nothing?’
‘The rioters and the terrorists and the murderers need no prompting from me.’ He laughed again, the flute becoming the beating of flamingo wings. ‘Nothing.’
The Doctor glanced down at Cristián, who had slid to the floor, his eyes awash with Huitzilin’s light. ‘Nothing.’
‘Oh, sometimes I’ve spiced things up a little,’ said Huitzilin. ‘But what’s an extra death, a few thousand extra deaths when millions are dying? No one knows, no one cares.’
‘No one.’
Huitzilin laughed again. ‘You think you’ll stop the killing by casting your magic spell. But the wars will go on and on and on.’
‘Actually,’ said the Doctor, ‘that’s not what I think at all.’
Huitzilin lifted a perfect white eyebrow.
‘You’re not supposed to be here,’ said the little man. ‘You died, Huitzilin, all those centuries ago. You faded away into nothing.’
The god was shaking his head, but the Doctor went on. ‘Someone or something pulled a string of the cosmic web. You should have melted at the temple, but you didn’t. Because I was there for you to cling to. And you went on existing, like a parasite licking up spilt blood.’
‘It was by my will that I continued to exist!’ snarled Huitzilin ‘My will and no one else’s. I went beyond the boundary of death, and I’m still here. Why else do you think they called me a god?’
‘Putting aside all the suffering that you have caused – to the thousands of corpses, to Cristián Xochitl Alvarez –’
‘Who’s he? He’s no one.’
‘No one is no one!’ roared the Doctor. ‘How can someone be no one! Except you, you vampire! You shouldn’t be here at all, not as a man, not as a ghost. But if you become real, if I let you overtake me, you’ll be able to use that weapon, that thing in the box, that thing –’
‘My Xiuhcoatl,’ sighed Huitzilin. ‘My dear Turquoise Serpent. Oh, war will be very different from now on.’ He grinned at the Doctor. ‘Are words your food, world killer? All this talk, and still the healer is becoming the warrior. How many people have you seen die, killer of worlds?’
The Doctor grabbed the book in both hands and held it out in front of him. The towel fell to the floor. A shower of blue sparks exploded up his arms, dancing around his fingers. A hot smell filled the air.
‘You can’t use that,’ said Huitzilin. ‘We’re too closely joined together.’
But the Doctor’s eyes were losing their focus, his breath coming in shallow gulps. He did not need to open the book, read the writing that burned on its pages in deep blue ink. A word trembled ecstatically in his lungs, forced its way into his mouth.
‘Iaquetl,’ he said convulsively.
Huitzilin quivered in place, struck by the sound.
The Doctor’s teeth were clenched involuntarily, but another word fought its way out. ‘Ohuihuihuiya.’
Blue light was coming out of him, as though he were a bit of cellophane that someone was shining a torch through. Light leaked out of his