CHAPTER 25
A SPEAR OF WHITE light stabbed down from the high windows, and she sat in a chair in the center of its cold spotlight. Her silver hair was gathered elegantly at her shoulders, her ivory fingers threaded in her lap. Knees and feet kept close together, the very picture of modesty and sorrow. Everything felt like a scene from some great painting: the pale fair maid, grieving at her father’s tomb.
“I would have come earlier, of course,” said Fayazi. Again, the fluttering of her enormous eyelashes. “But I had no concept that my father’s manner of death was malicious. It was not until just today, when a commander of the Apoths mentioned to me that several Engineers had perished from a similar affliction—and that it was indeed malicious, a murderous act—that I chose to reach out for aid.”
I glanced about. The edges of the chamber were cast in shadow, yet the armor of the guards along the walls glinted like the eyes of cats watching a campfire from the darkness. Fayazi’s two Sublimes sat on either side of her. The first, an engraver, was a man, short and pale and rather soft of features, with a coral-painted face and a high collar. Eyes alert and resentful, like a top student worried others might surpass his marks. The other, an axiom, was a woman, tall and rail-thin, with little dark eyes like needles, and a large, smooth brow that gave her face a skeletal suggestion. She moved not at all as Fayazi spoke, but her unblinking gaze shifted about the room, and frequently rested on Ana and me.
“Please describe the manner of his death,” said Ana sharply.
Fayazi’s amethyst stare floated over to her. There was a twitch at the edge of her tiny mouth—a smirk. Perhaps a sneer.
“I am familiar with the commander-prificto,” Fayazi said. “But you, I am afraid, I do not ken.”
“This is Immunis Ana Dolabra of the Iudex,” said Vashta. “She is commanding the investigation of some recent murders here in Talagray.”
“Mm,” said Fayazi softly. “This name I know…But I cannot place it yet. No matter.”
A cold, mirthless smile crossed Ana’s face, then vanished.
“My father…” A tragic pucker to Fayazi’s lips. “My father perished from a plantlike growth. It was most strange. It poured out from his body, penetrating him through the breast. We treated it like contagion and locked down the whole of our halls in containment immediately to try to study it. We are often hermetic here in the Outer Rim, you see—the fear of contagion is greatest near the lands where the leviathans fall. Yet we could find nothing, and no one within our halls suffered any more afflictions. It was most mysterious.”
“And you did not report this to the Apoths?” said Ana.
“If we had,” said Fayazi, “then that would have surely broken our containment—correct? The breath of the words that carry a message might also carry death.”
“Then how did you become aware that your father’s death might have been malicious?” asked Ana.
“We lifted containment after seven days, for we had experienced no other incidents,” said Fayazi, “though we continued trying to discover the nature of my father’s death, of course. Just early this morn we received news from…” She turned to her engraver. The man’s eyes quivered, and he leaned over to whisper in her ear. “From Commander Hovanes,” she continued, “that there had been other outbreaks like this—ones kept secret from the citizens of the Empire. Yet we had no idea.” Though her voice was still breathy and childlike, her last words carried a sharp edge to them.
Vashta narrowed her eyes. “We do as we must, to prevent panic,” she said. “For if there’s a panic, madam, we will not survive the wet season.”
Fayazi nodded, her sheet of silver hair tilting back and forth. “Much may be excused,” she conceded, “when we all live under such threats.”
Yet I noted this was not precisely an agreement.
“You lifted this containment a week after your father’s death,” said Ana, “but that would have been nearly a week ago now. So…you still did not notify the Apoths of this contagion during all this time?”
“No,” said Fayazi. “For just after we lifted our containment, the breach occurred. We prepared to evacuate immediately, rather than venture into the city to notify the Iyalets. It was a moment of tremendous confusion and emergency. We simply watched the skies of the east for the flares. I feared for the life of myself and my staff.”
Vashta looked somewhat satisfied by this, but Ana was chewing her lip, head bowed.
“Your father’s death,” Ana said, “however, would have occurred seven days after the death of Commander Blas, in Daretana.”
The axiom’s skeletal gaze was now fixed on Ana. I began to wonder if the woman was even capable of blinking.
Fayazi appeared puzzled. “Commander Blas? Why is that of importance?”
“Are you not aware,” Ana asked, “that Commander Blas died in the same way as your father?”
“I was told that Commander Blas fell to contagion,” said Fayazi, shocked. “This was as it was reported to me. The manner of contagion was not mentioned.”
“You were not informed by your own housekeeper, Madam Gennadios,” Ana said, “that the groundskeeper at the property had collaborated with an assassin to kill the commander?”
Fayazi’s face was the picture of vapid astonishment. “This information would have been referred to my father,” she said, “but not to me. I do not even know who this Gennadios is.”
“And no one in your household, and none of your clan administrators, informed you that your father and Blas died in the exact same fashion?”
“We were in containment,” she said. “And I was deep in grief. I did not have the knowledge or the resources to respond, perhaps, as I should have.”
I glanced down. Ana’s knuckles were white, her fingernails digging into her palms.
She nodded curtly. “Mm-hm. And what is the current state of your father’s body?”
“He was cremated, as is our custom,” Fayazi said. “His ashes wait in our hall to be returned to our ancestral home, in the first ring. I intend to accompany its return for the funerary rites within a week.”
“You burned him. Immediately.”
“Of course,” she said, blinking sorrowfully. “That is my prerogative as his issue.”
Ana’s fists were trembling now. “You are now aware, I take it, that several Engineers have perished to this same contagion?”
“I believe,” said Fayazi sadly, “that Commander Hovanes suggested such…”
“Are you aware that we have evidence suggesting these Engineers were poisoned at your estate? Likely on the same night as your father? Presumably, now, poisoned at the same time?”
“We…we had a social event on that evening,” said Fayazi, shocked. “Many people attended. But I have heard nothing indicating our guests suffered any sign of contagion. And I had no idea that there had been any other poisonings.” She gestured at Vashta. “This was, apparently, kept secret to preserve order.”
“Would those guests have included a Signum Misik Jilki?” asked Ana. “Or a Signum Ginklas Loveh?”
Again, the engraver whispered in Fayazi’s ear.
“We are unfamiliar with these names,” Fayazi said.
Ana listed the rest of the dead Engineers. Fayazi’s engraver shook his head to each one—including Jolgalgan’s.
“Then perhaps you can tell me, madam,” said Ana, “why several of those Engineers possessed reagents keys to your gates?”
Fayazi was appalled. “I’ve no idea! I…I would assume they were stolen. Have you investigated these Engineers? Is it possible it was they who snuck in during the night, and killed my father?”
A long silence stretched on, Ana’s blindfolded face fixed in an expression of grim frustration, while Fayazi insipidly stared back.
“So,” said Ana. “Just to summarize, here—your position is that you were utterly ignorant of Commander Blas’s death at one of your properties, so when your father also died of this horrifying contagion, you had no idea that this was the second murder of this sort. You then burned his body and put the whole of your estate into containment, and due to this and the chaos of the breach, you abstained from notifying any imperial officials of your father’s suspicious death—until now. Nor do you know anything about the Engineers who were likely poisoned at your estate on that very same night, or how they happened to come into possession of reagents keys allowing them access to your properties. Is that the sum of it?”
The two Sublimes stared at Ana coldly. Fayazi’s face worked as she tried to process all this. “I…believe that is all correct.”
“I see!” said Ana, nodding. “I just have one more question.”
“Of course.”
“What color was the clay?”
Fayazi blinked, confused. “Clay? What clay?”
“The clay you must have stuck in your eyes and ears,” said Ana, grinning, “to remain so amazingly fucking ignorant of everything about you.”
Fayazi’s eyes widened very slightly, but otherwise she did not react.
Vashta jumped to her feet. “Immunis!” she bellowed.
“Yes, ma’am?” said Ana politely.
“In there!” snapped Vashta. She pointed at the door to the arbiter’s chambers. “Now!”
“Of course, ma’am.”
She gripped my arm, and we stood.
—
ONCE THE DOOR was shut, Vashta let Ana have it. Her lungs were in fine form, and she seemed to have both an enthusiasm and talent for bellowing. I had no doubt that one reason she was being so loud was that she wanted Fayazi to hear the dressing-down that Ana was getting.
Finally, she began to finish: “Was I not clear, Immunis, that all of Talagray depends upon those people?” she said. “That we need them about as much as they need us?”
“You were,” said Ana. “But she is lying, ma’am. Obviously so. Blatantly so. Preposterously so! And when someone lies to the Iudex, they get looked at.”
Vashta fumed for a moment, thinking about this. “Do you believe, Immunis, that Fayazi Haza killed her father, and Blas, and those Engineers?”
“I…think that unlikely, ma’am,” admitted Ana.
“And you still think this Jolgalgan is the more likely perpetrator?”
“At the moment, yes, ma’am.”
“But to prove any of this, we would need to gain access to the Haza estate to see if Jolgalgan has been present, and in hopes that there is something there that could indicate her current whereabouts. Yes?”
Ana said nothing.
“I do not know why Fayazi is lying,” said Vashta. “I do not know her business whatsoever. But I do know that there is someone out there who has killed many Engineers and imperiled all of Talagray, and they could do more damage yet. Finding them is the priority. Not digging up any of your grudges with old enemies!”
Still Ana said nothing.
“You both stay here,” said Vashta, “while I try to salvage the situation out there, and engineer a way for you to continue your investigation!”
“Understood, ma’am,” said Ana.
With one last glare, Vashta turned, flung open the door, charged through, and slammed it behind her.
—
“WELL, DIN,” SAID Ana with a sigh, “I must admit, this…is not going well.”
“Agreed, ma’am,” I said.
“No doubt you would have counseled me to keep my mouth shut.”
“Very true, ma’am.”
“But I couldn’t bear it. I simply could not bear the absurd amount of bullshit being poured at our feet.”
My eyes fluttered as I recalled Fayazi’s story. “Her explanation seems…at least somewhat plausible, yes?”
Ana’s face slowly swiveled to me, her mouth open in outrage. “Did you catch a fucking blow to the head during your murderous scuffle, boy? If your father’s chest suddenly explodes with greenery, you get up and run screaming for help! What you don’t do is sit in total silence—unless, of course, you’re hoping nobody notices your father’s dead, because if they do, then people are going to start wondering why he died the exact same way as this other dumb bastard the next canton over! No doubt she hoped we’d never track the poisoning to her home. But then we did, and someone on the investigation must have just happened to mention to a friend, ‘Fucking hell, chum, d’you know I almost died at this Haza party?’ Then word got back to the Hazas, and that tipped them off that we knew the poisoning had taken place in their damned house. And if you can’t evade an investigation, you instead work to influence it. And here we are. The noble, famous gentryclan of the Hazas comes clean—but only to muddy the waters.”
“What happens now, ma’am?” I asked.
“No idea. None at fucking all. But I do feel somewhat satisfied. After all, I predicted another murder had occurred before we came here. Don’t you recall, engraver?”
My eyes fluttered. I recalled that first night here in Talagray, when Ana had said—What if they’ve murdered someone besides Engineers, so no one ever noticed?
“Yes, but…did you predict the murder of a Haza, ma’am?” I said.
“Oh, hell no. I figured it was likely that the poisoner had killed someone that would connect the dead Engineers to Commander Blas. But I didn’t think it would be one of the prime sons of the goddamned Haza clan!”
I shot her a glare. “Why not? You knew where the poisoning had taken place, after all. You knew from the start.”
“Ohh,” she said. “So. You’ve noticed.”
“I have, ma’am.”
She sighed and flopped down on the floor. “I wouldn’t say I knew where the Engineers had been poisoned, Din. I would say I simply possessed a high degree of certainty that this would all eventually lead back to the Hazas. If you want to figure out where everyone got fleas, look no further than the biggest pack of wild cats. Even if they do prowl behind high walls and fancy gates.”
I cocked my head, listening. I could hear a little discussion in the chambers beyond. It sounded like Vashta had negotiated things into a better position.
“What do you know about Kaygi Haza, ma’am?” I asked.
“Much,” she said. “Maybe too much. I know he was third in line to inherit the whole of the clan. A prime son of the lineage. Besides that, there is—was?—little that made him different from the rest of his greasy brood. He was wealthy, conniving, ambitious, and influential. And old. Like a lot of the Hazas, he had access to some very pricey vitality suffusions—I think the man must have been about a hundred and thirty when he died. Even Fayazi’s partaken, I believe. She should be about sixty, by my reckoning.”
“That girl in there is sixty years old?”
“Girl…Ha! I take it you were smitten by her. Not surprising. Every bit of the woman is altered, and rumor has it some Hazas sport pheromonal grafts—not as advanced as a court plaizaier’s, of course, but just below the legal threshold. The scent of the Hazas entrances the minds of those close by, ever so slightly. When Fayazi walks into a room you can practically hear the crinkling of pants as all the pricks stiffen. I’m surprised she’s even the one here, actually. She’s the daughter of the third son of the lineage—not exactly a position of power within their noxious clan, so to speak…Yet now we’ll have to work with her to learn why Jolgalgan went to the trouble of killing her father, along with ten Engineers whom she claims weren’t there at all!” She snorted. “It will not be easy. If it is Jolgalgan, she does not join exclusive company. The number of people holding a grudge against the Hazas is beyond count.”
“Might you also count among that company, ma’am?” I asked.
She raised her eyebrows at me behind her blindfold. “My, my. That’s rather insolent of you, isn’t it?”
“I would simply note, ma’am, that Vashta just referenced your old grudges with them.”
“A rumor,” she said dismissively.
“And you also once said of the Hazas—I wouldn’t mind seeing all their progeny rotting in the ground like a bunch of fucking dead dogs. Which is, I feel, mostly how one talks of one’s enemies.”
“Oh, yes, well,” she said, sighing. “This is why people are so loath to talk before an engraver…They never forget a fucking thing you say! One day, Din, when this is all over, I shall tell you many truths, and tales of all that occurred between myself and the Haza clan in the inner rings of the Empire. I’ve no doubt you’ve caught rumors of it…But today is not the day for my stories.”
I glowered at her for a moment. Then I had an idea.
“Are the Hazas responsible for your banishment to Daretana, ma’am?” I asked.
Her smile grew to a grin. “That’s not entirely true.”
“Did they kill your previous assistant?”
To my surprise, her grin didn’t flicker one jot. “That’s not entirely true, either.”
“What’s not? That it was the Hazas, or that your assistant was killed?”
“Focus, Din. We are here to figure out how this calamity happened and who is responsible. Follow that thread, and that thread alone, and we shall have victory.” Then she cocked her head, knelt, and felt the fretvine floor. “Vashta is coming back. I can feel her stride in the very wood…And I think Miljin and Strovi are with her. Come. Let us pretend to be professional, you and I, for hell and the gentry await.”
—
“HERE,” SAID VASHTA coldly, “is what I have been able to salvage. First, Fayazi Haza does not wish to be in the room with you anymore, Immunis. To have made such an attack on her character during such a period of grief is beyond toleration. Is that clear?”
Ana shrugged. “That is clear if not welcome, ma’am.”
“Secondly…Fayazi Haza will permit an inspection of her halls. Purely to identify the circumstances of her father’s death. We shall pry no more in their affairs than that. This inspection must take place today, immediately. Which means we must postpone interviewing your colleagues about their involvement at this…this party.”
“That is all well,” said Ana. “We’ll get to them soon enough.”
“Lastly, however…Fayazi is not comfortable with a large presence from the Iudex. So she has only agreed to open her halls to one officer.” Vashta’s eyes moved to my face. “That would be you, Signum.”
I stared at her, then at Miljin, who looked disgusted, then Strovi, who looked alarmed.
“Me?” I asked. “Just me? At the halls of the Hazas, ma’am?”
“That is indeed the case,” said Vashta.
“It does not feel,” sniffed Ana, “that the Hazas should be dictating who can or cannot investigate a murder, even if it did take place in their fancy house.”
“We’re lucky to send anyone at all!” Vashta snapped. “Though there are ways I can obligate the Hazas to open their doors, that would take time—and the quakes grow ever stronger. We must get this resolved quickly. My understanding is that Kol here was your only assistance in Daretana, correct? Then he should suffice once again. Fayazi is even willing to take him in the Haza carriage.”
Ana’s initial fury now changed to concern. She pivoted her head to me, like she could hear the beat of my heart, and thought for a moment. “I will consent to this,” she said, “but I would like a moment to talk it over with Din and Miljin.”
“As you wish,” said Vashta. We bowed to her, and she departed.
Strovi looked back at me as he departed. He seemed so shaken it was as if it were he who’d been condemned to this task, rather than I. “Go safely, Kol,” he said. “The halls are a dangerous place. Not all who walk in return.” Then he followed Vashta out.
—
“WHY…WHY’S SHE asking for me?” I said. “I mean, out of everyone in Talagray…”
“Seems likely they want you there so they can push you around, yeah?” said Miljin. He turned to Ana. “Someone young. New. Pretty. Suspect she thinks the boy’ll be putty in her hands.” He spat on the floor. “I’d normally begrudge you for fooling about with Aristan’s body, boy, but given what’s coming now, I’ve naught but pity.”
“But what in hell would Fayazi get out of pushing Din around?” said Ana. “The boy knows fuck-all of anything important!”
“I am standing,” I said tersely, “right here.”
Ana ignored me, drumming her fingers on the sides of her legs. “The more I consider it, the more I think Fayazi wants to find the killer before us.”
“You think she seeks vengeance?” asked Miljin.
“Not quite. I suspect Jolgalgan knows something about the Hazas and Blas. Something to make her go to a lot of trouble to kill the two men in such a symbolic fashion. Something I think the Hazas are desperate to keep secret. And then there are the murders of Aristan and Suberek…” She fell silent, her face grave. “That is what Fayazi will try to weasel out of you, Din. She wants you to give her something that will help her find the killer first and make this all go away before we can dig any further.”
“How’s she going to do that?” I asked. “Will her bodyguards hold a blade to my throat?”
“Oh, no,” she said. She blew a strand of bone-white hair out of her face. “Rather, Din, I’m much more concerned that Fayazi Haza might try to fuck you.”
I stared at her, speechless. I looked at Miljin, who stared grimly back.
“I am not sure,” I said, “that I heard that correctly, ma’am.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first,” Ana said drily. “You are young and male—and boys are always a lot sillier about these things. And she has several thousand talints of beauty at her disposal, not to mention her pheromonic grafts. Regardless, it is well known that the Hazas use amorous relations, and blackmail, to get what they want. Fayazi likely means to get you under her thumb, Din.” She thought about it. “Or under some other part of her person. Or perhaps under a member of her household…”
“This metaphor,” I snapped, “wears rather thin.”
“Yes, yes. But! She might be in for a surprise. For you are not only a curiously focused person, boy, but you’re also one of the most emotionally repressed human beings I’ve ever met. If there is anyone who could resist the allures of the Hazas, it’s you. Or, well, I hope it’s you.”
“Besides fending off unwanted advances,” I said, frustrated, “what am I supposed to be doing there?”
Ana thought for a moment. Then she said, “Correspondence!”
“Beg pardon?” I said.
“Correspondence! Communications. Letters. That is precisely what we need. News of Blas’s murder surely reached her father the second we started investigating in Daretana. So who did he talk to after Blas died? Who did he send messages to? And what did those messages say? That’s what you must find.”
“How am I supposed to do that, ma’am?” I asked.
“The Hazas are known to possess a small fleet of scribe-hawks,” she said. “All you need to do is get to their rookery, boy, and look about for anything useful.”
I was familiar with scribe-hawks, of course, for the Iyalets used them to carry urgent communications across the whole of the Empire, flying with stunning speed between two fixed locations. The idea of someone privately owning a small fleet of them, however, was nothing short of astonishing to me.
“And…how am I supposed to get in their rookery, ma’am?” I asked.
“You’re there looking for contagion at a fucking murder scene!” she snapped. “That gets you access to all kinds of places! Make some dumb shit up, improvise, and figure it out, child!”
“Make some dumb shit up,” I said sourly. “Very clear orders there. What else, ma’am?”
“Investigate! Go, see, ask—and remain cold and aloof. Find evidence of how the killer did their work, speak little, and glower much. I mean, that’s your specialty, isn’t it? And remember, this is the second time the killer has struck at a Haza house. I suspect they used similar methods. Am I clear?”
“As mountain water, ma’am,” I grumbled.
“Good.” She grabbed my shoulder. “Eat nothing she gives you, Din. Do not drink any proffered drink. Be mindful of any smokes or fumes you perceive. Do not urinate or defecate on the property, and do your best to leave few hairs behind. Finally, keep your distance from Fayazi—and do not let her touch your face with her bare skin. Understood?”
I thought about it. “I suppose I can’t quit, can I?”
“Quit?”
“Yes. Not sure any dispensation could be worth this, ma’am.”
She grinned. “Maybe not. But the Hazas know your name, child. If you quit now, they will wonder why, and come asking, and they shall not be as fun to work with as I. Only way out is through. Now clean yourself up and get fucking going!”