“Keep your eyes open,” Ana said to me. She wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Trying to take it all in as best I can, ma’am.”
“Bother less with the sights,” she said, “and more with the people. You’re going to be with a lot of elite officers soon, Din. They won’t ask you to talk much, but you need to watch them. Watch what they look at, what disturbs them, and get it all for me. I want to know who we’re working with.”
“Is it vialworthy, ma’am?” I said, grabbing my engraver’s satchel.
“Of course! Pick a glass and stick it up your damn nose quick!”
We rumbled into the courtyard of the Trifecta. A small group of people were gathering in wait for us before the Iudex building, no more than a half-dozen Engineers, Apoths, and officers in Iudex dark blue.
I studied the Iudex officers most as we pulled up. There were two of them: one a tall, thin, gray-faced man whose breast bore the two bars signifying he was the investigator; and there, beside that heraldry, the eye within a box, indicating he was an engraver, like me. Next to him was a grizzled brick of a man with enormous shoulders, six span tall and six span wide, squinting at us as we pulled up. This man had evidently been altered for strength, so much so he could quite likely cleave a person in two. Upon his breast I spied a twinkle: the bar and the flower, indicating he was an assistant investigator.
I stared at him. This scarred, broad, blunt instrument of a human being was my Talagray equivalent. Even though I was nearly a span taller than him, I had never felt so young and so small in all my life.
When the carriage came to a stop I opened the door, clambered out, and helped Ana climb down. Though the crowd was small, I felt every eye upon me like they were a leaden weight.
The Talagray investigator—the tall, thin man—approached and bowed. “Ana,” he said. “It’s an honor to see you once more.”
“Tuwey Uhad!” Ana said cheerily, grinning like a sharkfish. “By Sanctum, it’s been years. Or decades, perhaps?”
“Just years,” said Uhad. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” His face was gaunt, and he looked weary—he probably hadn’t slept in days—but he allowed a small smile. He was a reedy, gloomy fellow who looked more like an advocate who argued cases before the magistries of the Iudex than a soldier. But then, I realized, that was probably what most investigators actually looked like.
Uhad’s eyes fluttered slightly as he looked upon Ana: a trembling in his pupils, a twitching in his cheek. An engraver indeed, then. “Commander-Prificto Vashta sends her apologies,” he said. “She wished to be here, but she has been appointed seneschal of the canton. A grave formality—but a necessary one.”
I nodded, for I’d heard of this procedure. In the event of a breach, Talagray anointed one Legion officer as seneschal—essentially a dictator of all domestic matters—until the breach was resolved. This meant that the tall, exhausted-looking woman I’d met in Ana’s shack back in Daretana was now judge, jury, and executioner of the canton, and we now operated completely under her purview. If we saw her again, I reckoned, it’d be because things had either gone very right, or very wrong.
“Don’t let the size of the group here discourage you, Ana,” Uhad continued. “It’s far easier to keep a smaller force discreet.”
“I’ve no goddamned idea how big or small it is,” said Ana, grinning under her blindfold. “But I appreciate the notice.”
He gestured to the broad, grizzled man beside him, and said, “First—this is my assistant investigator, Captain Tazi Miljin.”
The broad man bowed deeply to us, but as he rose his eyes lingered on me. He looked every inch the soldier, his shoulders huge, his gray skin sun-darkened and puckered here and there with white scars. His thick white hair fell in a messy mop down to his ears. Nose broad and bent and broken. Beard cut in a manner that made it hard to tell if he was constantly frowning or not. From the look in his eyes, I suspected he was.
Most interesting was the sword at his side: it bore a plain crossguard, yet the handle and the scabbard were uniquely designed, locked together with some complex brass machinery, almost like the clock at the Legion’s Iyalet building back in Daretana. Its black leather scabbard was worn but carefully polished and cleaned. However strange the weapon looked, it seemed a beloved thing to him.
I glanced up, and saw he was still watching me. Gaze as cool as the underside of a river rock. No dancing to his pupils. I wondered what alterations he was sporting.
“We’re assisted here by representatives from the Apoths and Engineering, naturally,” said Uhad. “Immunis Vasiliki Kalista…”
A short woman stepped forward and bowed, donned in Engineering purple. She was Tala, like me, thickset and glamorous, with clever, dark eyes and her shiny black hair expertly tied up in an elegant bun. Glittering oysterdust applied to the undersides of her eyes, bronze and ceramic hairsticks winking from the bun on her head. Someone who lived to be seen first and see things second, I felt. “An honor to serve with you,” she said.
“And Immunis Itonia Nusis,” said Uhad, gesturing to the other. “From the Apoths…”
A small, neat, handsome Kurmini woman with short, curly black hair stepped up, pushed back her Apoth red coat with a flourish, and gave a pert bow. “An honor to serve with you, ma’am.” She popped up, grinning cheerily. Every piece of her felt cleaned and pressed flat, all angles so adjusted and sharp she felt like a quilt carefully put together piece by piece. Her skin was dark gray, but her eyelids were slightly purpled, the sign of significant grafts. This wasn’t unusual for Apoths: being masters at shaping flesh, many of them augmented their own. It was likely the woman could see in the dark better than a jungle cat.
I studied the three immuni, each proud and preening and draped in the colors and heralds of their Iyalets. I suddenly thought of them as birds: Uhad was a blue stork, tall, wavering, watchful, and still; Kalista was a purple courtesan dove, all glamour and gleaming plumage; and Nusis was a little red flicker-thrush, cheerily chirruping and darting from branch to branch. How ostentatious they seemed next to Ana, bent and blindfolded, yet coiled like a predator about to strike.
Ana tapped my chest with a knuckle. “This is Din. My assistant investigator.”
All eyes moved to me, then flicked up and down, taking in my height.
“He’s new,” said Ana, “and big, and I think he lost his sense of humor in some tragic accident. But he helped me solve the Blas issue quick enough.” Then, simply, “He is good.”
I bowed, but I recognized that, short as it was, that was the highest compliment Ana had paid me yet.
“Ordinarily I’d give you both time to rest and freshen up, Ana,” said Uhad, “but given the situation, I thought it’d be best to get to work.”
“Absolutely,” said Ana. She gripped my arm tight. “Lead the way.”
* * *
—
OUR DESTINATION WAS an old Iudex Magistry chamber, one that was normally used for arbitration but had been overtaken by Uhad’s investigation. The most striking thing was the sheer filth of the place: the piles of parchments on the big round table, the pots brimming with pipe ash. Every stitch of fabric stank of smoke and sweat and stale clar-tea. It was without a doubt a room people had been holed up in for several days, sleepless and stewing.