IT WAS DAWN WHEN I heard the first footsteps from the tower entrance. I looked up from where I stood before the adjudication chamber, my hand resting on my sword, then relaxed when I saw Captain Miljin stumping up, his long scabbard swinging by his side.

He nodded to me. Then his eye danced down to my fingers, which still tarried near the grip of my weapon. “You’re jumpy, Kol…What’s all this about, then? Got a message from Vashta to be here. I thought it’d be about poor Nusis, but…something about an attempt on Fayazi Haza’s life?”

“Or one that’s coming, sir,” I said. “Ana seemed sure of it. Fayazi Haza herself will be here shortly to be interviewed.”

He gazed up the tower stairs. “But Ana’s not here yet.”

“Still in her rooms. Before you ask, no, I’m afraid she hasn’t told me her plots, sir. I’ve no idea what she’s playing at.”

He snorted. “Perhaps today’s the day she finally tells us what’s been bubbling away in that brain of hers.” He turned as six Legionnaires trooped into the atrium. He shook his head. “Just had to happen as the leviathan grows perilously close. Let us hope we all survive it.”

We entered the adjudication chambers, the Legionnaires taking position at the doors and windows. We waited in silence, and then there came a rumbling of carriage wheels. Commander-Prificto Vashta swept in, followed by Fayazi Haza, attired again in her silvery robes and delicate veil, and flanked by her engraver and her axiom. Fayazi looked nearly as shaken as she had when I’d seen her staring down on me as her carriage had taken me away. Her Sublimes, as always, were utterly inscrutable.

“Where’s Dolabra?” Vashta demanded of me. “Is she not here yet? I thought she would be waiting!”

I opened my mouth to speak—but then I heard a door slam in the tower beyond, followed by small, careful footsteps. I bowed, excused myself, and exited to see Ana slowly, carefully descending the stairs, blindfolded as always, one hand trailing on the wall.

“They all there, Din?” she asked softly as she came to me. “Vashta, Fayazi, and her two Sublimes?”

“They are, ma’am.”

“And how do they look?”

“Rather rattled, ma’am.”

A grin. “Good. Let us rattle them more.”

She took me by the arm. I glanced up the curling stairway, wondering what she had left behind in her room, and why I was not to enter it. Then I led her into the adjudication chambers.

The Legionnaires shut the door behind us and locked it. I glanced around, taking in their positions: two soldiers on either side of Fayazi, one at each of the two windows in this chamber, and two on either side of the door. Fayazi herself sat at the prosecutor’s table, with her axiom on her left and her engraver on her right. Vashta had taken up her usual spot at the high table, and Miljin slouched on a bench behind Fayazi, hand on his sword. I led Ana to the first row of benches opposite Fayazi, who watched with narrowed eyes as she sat.

“So,” said Fayazi. “We are here, as you have asked, Dolabra…You claim my life is being threatened, again?”

“So I have concluded, ma’am,” said Ana. “And I thank you for being here to discuss this.”

“I thought Jolgalgan was dead,” said Fayazi. “And her crackler. That was the news being bandied about.”

“They are. But the conspiracy against you goes beyond that, I am afraid. An immunis in the Apothetikals was murdered in her office last night. The threats continue.”

“Immunis Dolabra,” explained Vashta to Fayazi, “wishes only to interview you and your staff personally to attempt to identify the threat. It is purely a precautionary measure.”

“Before I ask any questions, however,” said Ana, “I would like to review all we know about the circumstances thus far—about the movements of Jolgalgan, your father, Kaygi Haza, and even Commander Blas—for I have had discovered many revelations in the past few days. Only once the nature of those crimes is established might the threat to you be made clear, madam. Would that be acceptable?”

Fayazi looked to her Sublimes. Both nodded.

“It is acceptable,” said Fayazi.

Ana grinned. “Excellent. Let us begin.”

---

—

“I WILL NOT bother any of you with reviewing the death of Commander Blas,” Ana said. “I resolved that weeks ago, and we know now that the identity of the murderer was Captain Kiz Jolgalgan, of the Apoths, now dead. Instead I will move forward to the day of the party at the halls of the Hazas, for that concerns us most. Do we have any protest there?”

Again, Fayazi looked to her Sublimes. They shrugged. “We see no problems there,” said Fayazi.

“Very good!” Ana stood up, hands clasped behind her back. “At that time, Jolgalgan was already on the Haza estate grounds. The crackler Ditelus had already lifted the trellis gate, allowing her to slip inside and secrete herself away in a small, shallow hole some several dozen span from the back patio of the house. She had the poison—this dappleglass—and she meant to use it. When she finally heard the sounds of the party, she rose, slipped out of the hole, replaced her cover, and joined the crowd, and no one was any the wiser.” She raised a finger. “But here we come to the first unusual thing about Jolgalgan—for she was already very familiar with the grounds, with the house, with the rooms and the halls. For she had been there before. Many times, in fact.”

“Jolgalgan?” sniffed Fayazi. “At our house? I think that most unlikely…”

“I’m afraid it’s not,” said Ana. “I am sure that you were quite unaware of all this, Madam Haza, but your father practiced the very common and not at all unexceptional institution of patronage—the selection and encouragement of key officers in the Iyalets.” Fayazi opened her mouth to object, but Ana thundered along: “This is, of course, not illegal. There are no laws forbidding it. And as I said, it is very common, especially here in Talagray. Why, I expect that even the commander-prificto has known the attentions of the gentry now and again…”

“I have known entreaties,” said Vashta frostily, “but not for many years.”

“Of course,” said Ana, bowing. “Kaygi Haza was like many gentrymen in this fashion. He had a small circle of officers he met with, encouraged, and occasionally gave gifts to—and Jolgalgan was also one such officer. For how else could she have known of his bath? How else could she have so easily navigated the servants’ passageways, and known which door to use? The answer is, Kaygi Haza had brought her there before himself, likely many times—as a friend.” A languid wave of her hand, acknowledging her point. “Now that Jolgalgan was in the estate, she then used her knowledge and her altered vision to navigate the dark passageways without a light, ascending to the roof. And there, she delivered the killing blow, dropping the dappleglass into the boiler above the steam room. At that point, her goal here was accomplished. Jolgalgan rejoined the party and left with the throng. Kaygi Haza took his steams after the party—and then, sadly, he was to perish before the morning.

“But!” Ana said. “The story does not end there. For Kaygi Haza had other business that night—a second, smaller party. A private affair he intended to hold for the officers to whom he was extending patronage—the same circle of officers that had once included Jolgalgan.” She recited aloud: “That would be…Princeps Atha Lapfir, Signum Misik Jilki, Princeps Keste Pisak, Captain Atos Koris, Captain Kilem Terez, Princeps Donelek Sandik, Princeps Kise Sira, Princeps Alaus Vanduo, Signum Suo Akmuo, and finally, Signum Ginklas Loveh. The ten dead Engineers. All of them came to the halls of the Hazas later to…taste the delights of the house. And the halls of the Hazas, of course, offer delights beyond compare…”

Fayazi had gone very still. Her violet eyes flicked to me, then back to Ana. I could see her wishing to object further but abstaining out of fear of what Ana might say next; she surely did not wish to disclose her own, very illegal courtesans before Vashta.

“That is a fascinating tale,” Fayazi said finally. “But you have not mentioned anything untoward or dangerous. You have given no indication, for example, of how the ten Engineers were also poisoned, if they were even at my house—nor how any of this might threaten me.”

“I am glad you asked,” said Ana, grinning. “For that question confounded me for a goodish bit. Yet then I realized…We already knew that the poisoning of the Engineers was different from the deaths of both Kaygi Haza and Commander Blas. They died much later, at irregular times, and their blooms issued from different parts of their bodies. This suggests they were poisoned differently, too.” She turned her blindfolded face to me. “Din saw the answer, of course. He just didn’t know.”

Everyone looked at me. I simply frowned, for I had no idea at all what she meant.

“Madam Haza,” said Ana. “Am I correct in recalling that your father had a bejeweled ewer from which he enjoyed drinking wine?”

Fayazi reluctantly said, “He did. He had several, in fact.”

“I see. And did he often enjoy drinking wine,” asked Ana softly, “while he took his bath?”

Lightning danced up my bones then, and the memory surfaced in my mind: there, in the old man’s bath, a stone ledge; and all along it, many faded red rings from many past wine cups.

“He…he did…” said Fayazi.

“Then it’s as I thought,” said Ana. “On that very night, in his bath, Kaygi Haza enjoyed a cup of wine from his favorite ewer, right as the air was full of steam—and dappleglass spores. The ewer he drank from sat open to the air and was now tainted. And that same ewer was then used later at this secret meeting of Kaygi Haza’s favored Engineers, to pour the wine for all those young people who had come to indulge themselves. And then they drank. They drank, unaware that whatever poured forth from such a vessel now carried death itself—inevitable, painful, and awful.”

---

—

A HORRIFIED SILENCE hung over the courtroom.

“Truly?” asked Vashta, aghast. “Do you truly think this is how such a tragedy began?”

“I am almost completely certain,” said Ana. “That would explain why it took so much longer for the infections to—what is the word—to bloom. For the Engineers had likely consumed fewer spores than Kaygi Haza himself, and those who drank more wine died fastest. But none had sat and soaked in the spores and breathed them in, like the elder Haza did. I also suspect the spores succeed more in the lungs than the stomach. But still they succeeded, eventually. And all ten perished.”

Fayazi looked at her Sublimes, who stared back, speechless. The silence stretched on, and on; and Ana allowed it to swell, waiting for the perfect time to puncture it.

“And if things had gone just slightly differently,” she said, “just ever so slightly differently, we’d simply have ten dead Engineers on our hands, and nothing more. A tragedy, surely, but not a catastrophe. Yet two of those Engineers just happened to work on the wrong strut within the walls at the wrong time…and thus, the breach, and countless casualties.” She paused. “It really is unfortunate, isn’t it, Madam Haza.”

“What is?” said Fayazi.

“It is so unfortunate that you locked down your estate,” said Ana, “and burned your father’s corpse, and did not alert the Apoths to the contagion. For if you had, well…perhaps the past weeks might have gone differently.”

The temperature in the room begin to change then.

I could see it in Vashta’s face; the slow, boiling realization that this gentrywoman—powerful as she was—had perpetrated a conspiracy that had directly caused the breach; and I could see it in Fayazi Haza’s posture: in the stiffening in her back, as she came to understand that the seneschal of the canton was now beginning to believe that her own personal deeds had caused the collapse of the sea walls, and brought about the dire situation of the Empire.

“I…” stammered Fayazi. “I thought this was an interview…I thought there were threats against me?”

“I am getting there,” said Ana. “But to explain that, I must first explain Jolgalgan’s most unusual method of murder, which I am sure must have puzzled all of us. Why bother with dappleglass at all? Why use the same contagion that had once killed her canton, her home? Dappleglass, after all, is difficult, temperamental, and—obviously—murderously uncontainable. It seemed a symbolic choice. Almost like a personal vendetta. It made no sense—until we discussed the history of Oypat with the late Immunis Nusis, who had personally served there during the canton’s death.

“Nusis told us a most curious story,” said Ana. “She told us of how the Apothetikal Iyalet successfully created an effective graft against the dappleglass—a cure, in other words—but that they were not able to put it into production. For when they tried to implement their plan to do so, too many cantons raised too many legal entreaties about growing too many new reagents—and by the time those complaints were resolved, the contagion had spread too far, and Oypat’s fate was sealed. But…Nusis mentioned that there were four cantons in particular that were the most effective at blunting this plan to save Oypat. That would be the Juldiz, Bekinis, Qabirga, and Mitral cantons.”

Vashta blinked, lost in the weeds. “Dolabra…what is the significance of this?”

“I wondered that myself,” said Ana. “Especially when my assistant investigator collected evidence that Rona Aristan, Blas’s secretary, had traveled extensively among those same four cantons in the past nine years—and had been carrying a fortune while doing so. And then I wondered it again, when Din reviewed the Haza rookery, and found that between the murder of Commander Blas and his own death, Kaygi Haza had sent scribe-hawks aloft to four destinations—the Juldiz, Bekinis, Qabirga, and Mitral cantons.”

Fayazi’s silver veil was fluttering very quickly now. She must have been breathing rather fast.

“I speculated on the meaning of all this,” said Ana. “What could connect all this? The money, and Kaygi Haza and Commander Blas—who had been killed by Oypatis, in the same manner as Oypat—with these four cantons that had quibbled so much that Oypat itself had perished?” She paused. “But then I wondered…What if all this had happened before?”

“Happened before?” said Vashta. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Kaygi Haza, after all, had been a very old man when he died. Somewhere around a hundred and thirty, if I recall,” said Ana. “What if, in his time, he had guided through several—how shall I put this—graduation classes of beneficiaries during his time here in Talagray, just like the ten dead Engineers? Several generations of Iyalet officers who had received his patronage, and been seeded all throughout the Empire—embedded to offer advice, information, or favors as needed?

“What if,” Ana continued, “Commander Taqtasa Blas himself had been one such officer, once upon a time? What if he and a handful of compatriots had been members of one of Kaygi’s clever little cabals, just like Jolgalgan had been? And what if some members of his group had eventually found their way to important stations in the Empire? Perhaps in the cantons of Juldiz, Bekinis, Qabirga, and Mitral?” She grinned that predatorial grin. “And…what if, eleven years ago, Kaygi Haza had requested a very, very big favor of Blas and his peers?”

Fayazi’s engraver shot to his feet. “These are preposterous lies!” he snarled. “We came here after being told of threats, not to be…be tarred with such a poisonous brush! Commander-Prificto, I must tell you that I will no—”

Then Vashta said a single word—as cold, hard, and vicious as a stab from an icy blade: “No.”

Stunned, the engraver stared at her, then looked to Fayazi. “Madam, I…This is slanderous…”

Fayazi seemed to remember herself and leaned forward. “I beg your pardon, Commander-Prificto?” she said, affronted. “What did you say to my staff?”

“No,” said Vashta. “I said no, Madam Haza. I am listening. And I am not done listening. Thus, we shall all sit, and not interrupt.”

The engraver hesitated for a moment, then looked to the axiom, who was watching Ana with her cold, needle-like eyes.

“We are of the clan of the Hazas,” said the axiom. “And we shall not be spoken to in such a manner by anyone.”

Vashta leaned forward from the bench. “And I am the seneschal of Talagray,” she said. “I hold in my hands the heart of the Empire, of which your clan is but a part. And if you wish to ever rejoin your clan, you will all be quiet.”

I could see Fayazi’s mouth open beneath her veil, wishing to say something. Then she shut it, pursed her lips, and gestured to her engraver, who sat.

Vashta turned her furious face to Ana, and said, “Continue, Dolabra.”

Ana cleared her throat, tried to wipe the smug grin off her face, and said, “This is the nebulous idea that crept into my mind—that eleven years ago, during the Oypat crisis, Kaygi Haza and Taqtasa Blas had gained knowledge about this cure for dappleglass. And then Blas, well-acquainted with the many Preservation Boards throughout the Empire, had covertly directed his friends and allies to quietly block its use. This was the only thing that could explain the connection between Kaygi Haza and Blas. It explained why Oypatis like Jolgalgan and Ditelus might wish this specific, poetic death upon the two men. And it also explained why Blas’s secretary was traveling among those four cantons with a veritable fortune—making payments to the collaborators, buying their silence. And it would explain why Kaygi Haza had hurried to send scribe-hawks to those four cantons after the death of Commander Blas. He was warning his people there, you see. One member of their conspiracy had been murdered in a fashion that signaled that the murderer knew what sin they had committed. He was telling the others that their secret was known—and that this murderer might soon come for them as well.

“But…why would Blas and Haza do any of this in the first place?” continued Ana. “Why would these two men intentionally allow a whole canton to die? What could they gain from such death and destruction? Except, then I recalled…the Hazas’ wealth comes from one very specific source. And that is land.”

“Land?” echoed Vashta quietly.

“Yes, ma’am. Land,” said Ana. “Land, and all that is grown upon it. All the reagents, all the agriculture, all the crops and feedstocks that spring forth from their earth—this is the source of all their riches.” She sniffed. “So…what would happen to the value of their lands if a great chunk of fertile land they did not own suddenly vanished?”

My head began to spin as I listened to all this. Although I’d begun to suspect many murderous things from the Hazas, it hadn’t yet occurred to me that their involvement in such horrors might be motivated by something so simple, so bland, and so awful.

“They did it for money?” I exclaimed. “All for money, ma’am?”

“Quiet, Din!” snapped Ana. “I told you to watch, not to talk!”

“Yes, but…I echo the boy’s comment,” said Vashta faintly. “You…you’re claiming the Hazas perpetrated this abominable scheme…as some kind of land valuation plot, Dolabra? To gain a little money?”

“Not a little,” said Ana. “A lot. An inconceivable amount. The death of Oypat allowed the Hazas to renegotiate countless contracts with the Empire, vastly increasing their wealth and influence—so much so that their wealth came to rival that of the emperor himself. It is, in its own strange way, the largest single land speculation scheme in memory. But if you would like hard numbers,” she said, smiling like a loon, “I highly recommend Summation of the Transfer of Landed Properties, Qabirga Canton, 1100–1120. That’s just one example. It’s all written down right there, in the open. And it’s fascinating reading, too.”

“Speaking of speculation,” cried the engraver, “this is all theorization and daydreams! We had nothing to do with Oypat, nor the increase in values of our lands! I have yet to hear of any evidence for this grand conspiracy beyond a few scribe-hawks our master had sent before his death! You have no real proof that he had any connection with Blas, or his secretary, or any…any illicit payments made to people in these cantons!”

“But I do have proof,” said Ana mildly.

The whole of the room seemed to freeze.

“You…you what?” said the engraver.

“I do have proof. Because I have in my possession a sample of the cure for dappleglass—the very grafts that the Apoths produced ten years ago to save Oypat. The very one you stole.”

---

—

A SILENCE SETTLED over the adjudication chamber. An errant cloud shifted in the sky, allowing a spear of dawn light to stab through the window.

“You have what, Dolabra?” said Vashta.

“Well, Immunis Nusis mentioned that those four cantons had seemed so curiously informed about the cure for dappleglass,” Ana said. “But then she mentioned that the cure itself might never have worked—for though they had made twenty vials of grafts, they found that three had degraded to water. Yet I imagined…What if they hadn’t degraded? What if someone had stolen three of the little vials to study and left simple water in their place? And that was what the Hazas did, you see. They bribed or paid their agents to steal the cure, so Commander Blas and his little gang could examine the sample, derive the reagents, and find a way to prevent the cure from ever being used. The solution was simpler than they’d ever dreamed—they found out where the reagents were grown and went to the Preservation Boards. Ironic, for the Preservation Boards exist to protect the folk of the Empire—but in the hands of the wealthy and knowledgeable, they could easily be used as a weapon.”

Ana wheeled to face Fayazi and her Sublimes. “But that’s where things went awry, didn’t they? For if you deal with corrupt people, inevitably they try to exploit you. And that’s what Commander Blas did—for he kept one of those samples. One of three. A third.”

The word sent lightning up my bones yet again. I remembered what I’d overheard Fayazi Haza saying: A third? Third what? What are they to find? What do they seek?

“Blas kept it as blackmail,” Ana continued, “to ensure that the Haza clan never tried to eliminate him. He used it to extort more funds from you, which he and his secretary smuggled to his co-conspirators abroad. And for so long, it was easier to pay him rather than kill him. But then he was killed—not by you, but by Captain Kiz Jolgalgan, who’d discovered what you’d done. And then it became very, very important to find that sample. For if anyone else found it, and figured out what it truly was, then it would prove what you had done.” She turned to me, smiling. “But despite all your searching, Din stumbled across it and picked it up. Very clever, to disguise it as a reagents key.”

I felt faint, my eyes shimmering as I recalled that day in the empty little house. The feel of the bronze disc, the slosh of the fluid in the vial—to imagine now that it had been the very substance that could have saved thousands of lives…

And yet, I knew the key had been stolen from us. What secret game was Ana playing at now?

She pivoted on her heel to turn to Fayazi, leaning her blindfolded face forward. “You didn’t know much of this, did you, madam,” she said. “You couldn’t have. This was all your father’s doing. His schemes, his plots. And you weren’t allowed knowledge of that. Why, you weren’t even allowed in his rookery.”

Fayazi’s axiom gripped her mistress’s arm again.

“I will say nothing to you,” said Fayazi quietly.

“But when your father died, you had to take over his duties here. You sent word to the other prime sons of the lineage, asking for guidance—and they told you to burn the body and the evidence and suppress all knowledge, fearing anything that might connect your father’s death to Commander Blas would reveal what they had done to Oypat. You did as they asked—and thus, you enabled the breach. And the deaths of all those soldiers and people now lie upon your head.”

“No,” whispered Fayazi.

“And then things got so much more dangerous…For then the clan sent their agent, didn’t they? Someone terrifying to do their dirty work and clean up all this mess you’d made?”

Fayazi trembled under her veil, yet said nothing.

“They sent their twitch, of course,” said Ana. “And all you could do was sit there. Sit there while the twitch went after Blas’s secretary. And then that poor miller you’d hired for all that fernpaper—they killed him and left him to rot in a basement. And then poor Nusis.”

“Dolabra!” said Vashta, alarmed. “What are you talking abou—”

“I wonder how many people your twitch has killed for your clan,” Ana said. “Dozens? Hundreds? But you knew when they came, Madam Haza, that you might be the next one they killed. For you’re distant from the elder sons. Vulnerable. Unimportant. The twitch was here to make sure you didn’t step out of line…and if all their plans here in Talagray fell to pieces, it was you they intended to blame for it all and leave for the loop. Another tidy ending to a horrid little story.”

Fayazi convulsed like she’d been slapped.

“Surely you’ve thought that,” whispered Ana. “Surely you’ve known that’s what they planned. But…why don’t you ask her? Why don’t you go ahead and ask your twitch right now?”

A loud, thundering silence.

“D-Dolabra?” said Vashta. “What are you…what…”

Ana turned her face to the axiom, who stared back at her with her cold, dark eyes.

“For it’s you, isn’t it?” said Ana. “You’re no axiom. You’re the twitch. And it is you who’s here to threaten Madam Haza’s life. And it’s you who killed Immunis Nusis just last night.”

---

—

ANOTHER STUNNED SILENCE.

The axiom smiled and laughed, a high, cold sound. “You’re mad. She’s mad. This woman is absolutely mad!”

“What’s the square root of 21,316?” demanded Ana.

“Wh-what?” said the axiom, startled. “Why are you—”

“The answer is 146,” said Ana. “What’s 98 to the power of four?”

The axiom was silent.

“The answer is 92,236,816,” said Ana. “What about 92,236,816 divided by 21,316? Can you do that?”

Silence.

“Can you?” demanded Vashta. “Can you not?” She looked to Fayazi. “Why can she not?”

Fayazi began to shake but did not answer. The axiom’s cold, dead stare grew even colder.

“I think the answer is a little over 4,327,” said Ana. “But don’t quote me.” She grinned. “You bear the heralds of an axiom—but you can’t do math at all, can you? You needed a reason to hang about Fayazi while Din talked to her, to make sure she said the right things. And what gentrywoman goes anywhere without their Sublimes? You couldn’t pose as an engraver—she already had one of those—but axiom, well…Why would anyone pose complex math problems to Fayazi Haza? I wouldn’t have thought twice on it—but then Din asked a few very simple mathematical questions, and you said nothing. Nothing at all. And that was curious to me.” Her smile faded. “It’s you. You killed Aristan. And Suberek. And Nusis. It was all you.”

The axiom was silent. Ana began moving back, but she started speaking louder so the whole room could hear.

“The Hazas sent you here to clean up,” she said. “But the real mission was to get back that damn reagents key—the one filled with the cure for dappleglass. You learned from one of Kaygi’s many dirty sources that Nusis just happened to have a reagents key that had been recovered from Rona Aristan. You knew right away what it was. And with the leviathan approaching, there was no time. You got desperate. You went to her office, forced her to open the safe, and killed her—unaware that she and I had already swapped out the keys, and I had the real one in the chest in my rooms. Right upstairs, right now.”

I blinked at that, confused again. That couldn’t be so. Yet Ana kept talking.

“Very gutsy, to come here,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d do it. I made sure not to ask for you at all, worried I might spook you. But you’re very loyal to the Haza clan. They told you to keep watch over their little sister, and that’s what you’re here to do.”

Fayazi was trembling now. Miljin stood and drew his sword.

I shot to my feet and did the same. The Legionnaires about us took that as a sign and drew their own blades.

The twitch’s cold, dark eyes flicked around the room, unnaturally quickly, counting us all.

“Fayazi?” said Ana. “You can move away now. Hurry, please.”

With a strangled cry, Fayazi Haza shot to her feet, shook off the twitch’s grip, and ran across the room. She pressed her back against the far wall and stared back at the twitch, sobbing hysterically.

Vashta looked on, stunned. Then she blinked and steeled herself. “Miljin?”

“Yes, ma’am?” said Miljin, his green blade raised.

“Arrest this person,” said Vashta. “Bind her hands and feet. Immediately.”

“Kol!” called Miljin. “Your engraver’s bonds!”

My hands shaking, I unhooked them from my belt, then tossed them to Miljin. He and the Legionnaires advanced on the twitch, blades held high. She stayed seated behind the table with her hands in her lap, totally still except for her eyes, which kept darting about, reading the room.

“There’s too many of us,” said Miljin to her. He handed the bonds off to a Legionnaire, keeping his own blade pointed at the twitch. “Too many, even for you.”

“I know,” said the twitch quietly. She raised her hands.

“Good,” said Miljin. He kept approaching, making sure his blade was angled toward her. “Keep raising them. Slowly now. Slowly. Slowly…”

I felt myself trembling. A fluttering to my eyes, and I recalled what Miljin had said: You meet a twitch, there’s no training I can offer that’d save you…They were supposed to be unbeatable in combat—for about a minute a day, mind. After that, their muscles wore out and they had to recover…

Then came the awareness of all the folk that this person had killed: Aristan, and Suberek, and poor Nusis…And perhaps Ana’s previous assistant as well, for all I knew.

“Slowly,” said Miljin. “Slowly give me your hands…”

The twitch extended her arms. Miljin nodded to the Legionnaire on his right, who took her by the arm and snapped one end of the bonds about her wrist.

Then they all froze.

A sound from out the window, out in the city, starting low and then slowly growing.

Bells. First dozens of them, then hundreds of them, their high, raucous peals falling over the countryside like a storm.

“Tocsins,” said Vashta hoarsely. “Tocsin bells. But we haven’t yet seen…”

We all looked to the window, and the east.

For a moment there was nothing but mottled clouds; but then a small, flittering green star rose in the distance; and it was joined by another and another, arcing into the darkness and leaving trails of smoke behind, until all the skies seemed swarming with bright, flickering green lights.

“Green flares,” Vashta said quietly. “A leviathan is here.”

The twitch moved.