The Tainted Cup (Shadow of the Leviathan, #1)

Kalista snuck a wary glance at Uhad. “That’s a tremendous amount of information,” she said.

“But you Engineers have it, don’t you?” said Ana. “The Empire simply loves to write shit down, and I’d assume the living arrangements of the Iyalets here in Talagray would be well recorded.”

“I can get it,” said Kalista reluctantly. “But…it’s a lot. And, as you can expect, the Engineers are overtaxed right now. Might I ask why you need it?”

“To save us all some goddamned time,” said Ana, grinning. “We want to talk to everyone who could know something, yes? Seems wise to start with who’s been physically around the victims for weeks and months.” Then she casually added: “As well as who they might have been fucking. Living arrangements often reveal such relationships—who’s followed who, month after month. Tricky to slip into someone’s bedroom through a window. Better to be in the same building. And lovers, of course, are vital sources of information.”

Kalista, stunned, removed her pipe from her mouth, leaving a faint indentation in her lip. Nusis’s smile was very strained now. I stared fixedly into the back of Ana’s chair.

“We’ll get you that,” said Uhad grimly. “Before the end of the day—yes, Immunis?”

“Certainly,” said Kalista. She watched Ana from behind a veil of smoke. “However…I did think the nature of this relationship was reciprocal, yes? We’d like to get some information from you, too, Immunis, about the previous incident.”

“Yes…” said Ana. “But I had a question for you all first. Did any of you know Commander Blas? Personally?”

The whole room exchanged uncomfortable glances—all except Captain Miljin, who just slouched grumpily in his chair.

“We all did,” said Uhad. “He was one of the most prominent Engineers of the Empire. Architect of some of our greatest defensive artifices. Though I, I admit, probably knew him the least, and only cordially at that…”

“I never served under him,” said Kalista. “But I knew him. I’d met him frequently. Yet that wasn’t unusual. He wasn’t the type to bottle himself up before a drafting board. He had a way of making himself known.”

“I knew him through his activity on the Preservationist Councils,” said Nusis.

Ana’s head swiveled to her. “Tell me more about that, please.”

“Well, ah…he was a liaison to many cantons’ Preservationist evaluations,” Nusis said hesitantly. “Examining whether a new suffusion or alteration, or a new construction project, could impact the natural state of any nearby canton.”

“Say more,” demanded Ana.

“W-well…say you want to apply a suffusion to a riverweed,” said Nusis. She was rattled now, a gleam of sweat on her brow. “To make it grow less in a river. But you find the alteration also causes mold in the river to grow more, and the mold then turns highly acidic when it washes up on a dam downstream, slowly weakening it, imperiling a town below…that kind of thing. These changes have to be well thought out. The slightest alteration threatens enormous effects. Apothetikals and Engineers are the most frequent liaisons on these evaluations, and Blas was very active with us.”

“But what the hell did he do, exactly?” asked Ana, frustrated.

“Well…he reviewed artifices, infrastructures, and constructions that could either be vulnerable to or might enable the escape of contagion from Talagray,” she said. “This is not terribly unusual work, mind…”

“Hm. I see…” Ana said, now sounding bored. “And Captain Miljin? Did you know Blas?”

Miljin shook his head. “Saw him at a distance, ma’am,” he said. His voice was deep and raspy, like his throat was lined with smoking oil. “But never so much as heard the man’s voice.”

“Fine,” said Ana. “So…would those who had met him please tell me more about the nature of the man? I’ve heard precious little about that aspect.”

Uhad shrugged. “He was the image of professionalism. Polite. Studious.”

“Very well admired,” agreed Kalista. “Especially within my Iyalet. He had no enemies that I was aware of.”

“He spoke wisely, and when he spoke, he was listened to,” said Nusis.

“I see…” said Ana. She flapped a hand at me. “Thank you. Now—Din. Do the thing.”

I’d tried to make myself inconspicuous thus far, and didn’t much like having so many superior officers look at me. I stood up, bowed, but paused. “Ah—what exactly would you like me to tell them, ma’am?” I asked.

“All of it,” she said. Another flap of her hand. “The full vomit, boy!”

“Right…” I said. “Well. Hold on, then.” Again, I took out the vial of lye-scent, sniffed it, let the memories come pouring into the backs of my eyes, and started talking.



* * *





I GAVE THEM the exact same description of the events as I had to Commander-Prificto Vashta. I left nothing out. When I finished, there was a long, lingering silence. I sat back down, replaced the lye vial, and sniffed at the grass one to make sure I captured the rest of the present moment accurately.

“So…” said Uhad slowly. “The groundskeeper met the assassin. But…their face was swollen?”

“Such was his testimony,” said Ana. “I believe there are many disfiguring grafts one could apply, with varying levels of permanence…”

Captain Miljin rumbled to life, clearing his throat rather extensively. “This is so,” he said. “Dernpaste is the preferred one. Swells the areas you apply it to, makes it so your own mother wouldn’t know you. Skin tone’s harder to alter, but…Well. They have stuff for that, too.”

“And I suppose if you all had seen some shadowy figure with a swollen face,” said Ana, “skulking around Blas here with a piece of dappleglass in their hand, you’d have mentioned it by now.”

“Of course,” said Uhad. “But Blas was very active. He moved around a great deal. Many people knew him.”

“What investigatory steps have you taken for him here?” asked Ana.

“With the wet season approaching,” said Uhad, “we’ve only been able to do the minimum, unfortunately. The Apoths reviewed Blas’s offices and living quarters. They found nothing of note.”

“All right…” Then Ana paused. She seemed to be waiting for something. Her smile slowly retracted, and she swiveled her blindfolded face about the table. “Is that all? No one has anything else to say on the matter?”

An uneasy silence followed. Kalista watched Ana, her dark eyes heavily lidded. Nusis stared at the floor, like Ana had just made some embarrassing blunder in etiquette. Uhad watched nobody, his pupils dancing as memories flooded his mind. And Miljin, to my surprise, watched me, arms crossed, his gaze inscrutable.

“Unfortunately,” drawled Kalista, “nothing comes to mind.”

“I see…” said Ana. “Well then. One critical takeaway is that the perpetrator had to be operating here, in Talagray, for weeks if not months. This is the only way they could have known Blas’s movements.”

“That doesn’t necessarily narrow it down,” said Uhad. “There’s a lot of movement here in the months before the wet season.”

“Of course,” said Ana. “But there’s been one distinct signal that dappleglass gives off. One that even Din here, who’d never heard of it before, noticed right away.”

They all looked at me.

“Fernpaper,” I said. “It stains it.”

“Correct,” said Ana. “And I saw quite a lot of fernpaper out there in the city. Lots of quakes here, after all. Has any been found stained? For that would likely lead us directly to the killer—or the site of the poisoning.”