“Well, there I have conjecture,” said Ana. “But pretty solid conjecture. My guess is—when Fayazi Haza took over after her father, she panicked. First thing she did was try to get rid of the evidence. That meant burning her father’s corpse—but also getting rid of all the stained fernpaper. She ordered new panels from Suberek, then replaced all the ones in the bath house. But then the prime sons of the clan sent in the heavy to take over and clean up—the twitch. The twitch identified Suberek as a link, so they promptly took care of him.”
I listened to this, thinking. “So…where is this twitch? And what does he look like?”
“No one knows,” said Miljin. “It could look like any regular fella. They don’t appear augmented at all, really.”
Then my skin went cold. “Wait. Could the twitch have been in the halls of the Hazas while I was there?”
Ana shrugged. “It’s entirely possible.”
“And…you knew, ma’am? You knew I was going to be in the company of an assassin? And you didn’t warn me?”
“If I’d warned you,” said Ana, “you’d have acted paranoid, like any reasonable soul would. And that could have put you in real peril—if the twitch was there. Which I am not yet convinced of.” She turned her face east. “They could be here, in Talagray, masquerading as an Iyalet officer. Or perhaps a simple miller, like Suberek. We do not yet know. I’d hoped to give you an advantage, Din, should you cross paths with such a being—but perhaps simply knowing what you can do can help.”
* * *
—
“AS LURID AS all this shit is,” said Miljin, “I’m most interested in one bit you mentioned, ma’am…namely, that we’re close to catching Jolgalgan. Which is, frankly, news to me.”
“Oh, but we are,” sighed Ana. She returned to parsing through the papers before her. “I just have one last bit of information to figure out…”
I eyed the papers. “And you’ll find it in lists of Legionnaires augmented for strength, ma’am?”
“Naturally. Have neither of you arrived at it? Captain Miljin here ought to know, at least,” she said, grinning. “Being as it was his damned interview that tipped me off. Don’t you recall?”
Miljin stared at her blankly. “No…?”
“When you went to the medikkers’ bay and did your interrogations,” she said, “you were told the dead Captain Kilem Terez had been worried someone very unusual had been following him.”
“Why…yes,” said Miljin, startled. “A…a crackler. That was what he’d said.”
“And you thought the idea mad at the time—but what if it wasn’t?” asked Ana.
My mouth opened in surprise—yet Miljin remained unmoved. “A man ten span tall was following this Engineer,” he said. “Around the streets of Talagray. We are to take this seriously?”
“It’s very simple,” said Ana. “Jolgalgan got onto the grounds, made a hole, and secreted herself away until the party. But how did she get past the walls? Well, Din’s reports, and our interviews with our witnesses, have forced me to conclude that the only way our poisoner got onto the estate grounds was through the sluice gates.”
I nodded as I began to understand. “But the sluice gates are heavy…”
“Right! Yet someone very, very strong might have lifted the sluice gate just enough to allow Jolgalgan inside. And, Miljin, you were told that Terez said he’d been seeing a rather suspicious crackler about—one with yellow hair. And who else has yellow hair?”
“Jolgalgan,” I said. “She has pale yellow hair…”
“She does!” said Ana. “Because she is from Oypat. As is, I think we can now assume, this mysterious crackler who helped her break in. Two Oypatis, taking apart the Empire from within Talagray…The theory that Jolgalgan is out for some kind of bloody revenge for the death of her canton grows ever stronger!” She turned a page. “And thus, I now look through the list of all the folk in Talagray augmented for strength. We find an Oypati crackler, then we find Jolgalgan.” She paused, very briefly. “Along with any other collaborator she might be working with. I just need a name. Just one name to hunt down…” She grimaced, and her stomach growled noisily. “By hell, what time is it? I’m so damned famished I can hardly think!”
I beckoned to a porter standing at attention across the courtyard, waving him over.
“We need a meal here,” I told him.
“What might you prefer, sir?” the porter asked.
“Flesh. Beef or fish, preferably, and as recently slaughtered as possible. It doesn’t have to have been cooked, just oiled and salted and sliced thinly.”
Ana paused as she turned the page, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth. “You’re beginning to know me well, boy. But have it brought to my rooms, please. I will need to study this list in a place with a little less stimulation…”
I dropped a few talints into the porter’s hand, and he bowed and trotted off.
Ana began messily piling her papers. “I shall finish my work and find a name. But pursuing this crackler will not be simple. An Apoth like Jolgalgan will have many invisible ways of murdering you, possibly beyond dappleglass. Thus, once I have a name, I shall contact the Apoths to ready a contagion crew.”
Miljin’s face darkened. “A contagion crew…By the Harvester, I never wished to ride out with one of them.”
“We have no choice. I’ll not have you or Din choking on your own blood because Jolgalgan set graft trips in your path.” She stood. “Come to me in the morning, and I will give you your orders. Perhaps we eliminate one of our three mysteries tomorrow. But Miljin…” She lifted her blindfolded face. “Unless I’m mistaken, we do have an hour or so of light left…”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll show the boy a few tricks, ma’am.”
“Very good. Thank you. But one last thing…Din? Come here.”
I did so, extending my arm to her as I was accustomed. Yet her fingers pawed up my shoulder, then to my head, where she plucked out three of my black hairs.
I winced. “Ma’am! What was that fo—”
“Oh, relax,” she said. “I need some black hairs. And my and Miljin’s hair is too pale. Only yours could do.”
“Do for what, ma’am?”
“To keep me alive, of course. For I’m relatively sure someone shall try to poison me as well, and that right soon—yet these shall protect me.” She grinned. “Good night!”
* * *
—
AS THE EVENING grew full dark, Miljin showed me a few ugly little moves of his; not really fighting techniques as much as dirty tricks, ways to hobble or hamper your opponent. My particular favorite was one where, if you had time to identify a thrust, you could deflect the blow and angle your blade in such a manner that you trapped their sword with your crossguard, and they impaled their shoulder upon its point. I did it so well that Miljin had to stop himself from piercing his flesh. “That’s enough of that one, then!” he said, shuddering.
And as he guided me through the movements, I began to see what they had been trying to show me: every gesture, every position, every shift, and every turn seemed to sink into my very bones, engraved in my body and flesh—but the knack was as limited as it was comprehensive, for I could only duplicate those exact movements. If the fight called for something I hadn’t memorized, then I was instantly vulnerable.
“Good,” said Miljin, sweating mightily after a few minutes of sparring. “But don’t let this swell your ego. None of these dirty tricks will do you any good against a twitch, or a crackler. Try and spar with him tomorrow and the fella will rip you apart. Now let us sup, and to bed. There are many ways to an early grave in this canton, and pairing a hungry belly with a tired mind is surely one of them.”
He walked me back to the Iudex tower entrance, the Fisher’s Hook twinkling and glimmering far above.
“Do you think she meant it, sir?” I said. “That someone will try to poison her?”
“At this point, if your immunis claimed all the world were an aplilot and a giant leviathan was about to take a bite out of it, I’d fucking believe her,” he said. He squinted up at the Iudex tower. “In fact, I wonder if she knows the truth of all that’s happened. Or if she even planned to be here.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“An Iudex officer with such a history with the Hazas? Popping up right when Kaygi Haza gets murdered? She knows more than she’s telling. Question is when she tells us.”