Page 19

Chapter 19

When we finally arrived at Ana’s lodgings, I exited, paid the pilot, and helped her to her front door. There I stopped. “There are three rather large packages here waiting for you, ma’am.” I stooped to look at them. “Appears to be parchments. And I see the Apoth symbol here…”

“They’ve already sent me the records?” said Ana, agog. “Titan’s taint! I hardly know what to think anymore.”

I helped her inside, then hauled the packages in and opened them, only to discover they were so overstuffed that tiny parchments came spilling out, as if I’d split the seam of a bag of rice. I hastily gathered them back up and sorted them into stacks, and though my accursed eyes struggled with their tiny writing, I saw they were the shipping manifests of every Yarrow barge that had gone missing in the past two years.

Yet one slender envelope emerged from the piles of curling parchment. I fished it out to find Ghrelin’s service record within.

Ana grabbed the copy of Ghrelin’s service record, ripped off her blindfold, and read it. “Hm. His tales all line up. He was indeed working inside the Shroud for three years, but that does not explain the tapping.”

I bustled about her rooms as I began to brew her some tea. “Did the tapping you heard today help?”

“Oh, very much so.” She tossed herself down on her bed like a truculent child. “When you first mimicked his tapping, Din, I realized that portions of it felt intentionally repetitious. Like notes or motifs in a piece of music, perhaps. And then I thought—well, perhaps it wasn’t music! Perhaps it was language. ”

I had been trying to start the fire in her stove, but I stopped when I heard that. “As in, a code, ma’am?”

“Precisely! And it was one I was glancingly familiar with. Here…let me see if I can find it…”

She leapt to her feet, paced to her box of books, ripped one out, and flipped through its pages. Then she pounced back over to me and shoved the book in my face. “There. Look familiar?”

I squinted at the pages, the tiny text swimming before my eyes. The book appeared to be Histories of Forgotten Religious Orders, and on the page before me was a bizarre diagram, almost like music notes all set upon one line, with blots of ink, followed by dashes, followed by triple dots.

“It…does not look familiar to me, ma’am,” I confessed. “In fact, I’ve no idea at all what I’m looking at.”

She shut the book with a snap. “Ah. I will go ahead and assume, then, that you are not familiar with the Adherents of the Sallow Fields?”

I waved wearily. “Assume away.”

“Few are, these days,” she said. “They are a sect of monks that practice an unusual vow of verbal silence in their monastery. Much like the earth spirits they claim to worship, they do not speak aloud. Instead, they tap —rapping three fingers in a rhythmic, mathematical alphabet, upon boards they hang about their necks. It’s a tricky way to talk—they have to wait one at a time to tap out their messages, otherwise it gets very hard to hear. Rather unsurprising, then, that their order is quite rapidly dying. Think they’re down to a few dozen now. Poor sods.”

“This is the code that Ghrelin was using? But…why is an Apoth communicating like a silent, mad monk?” I said, frustrated.

“I don’t know.”

“And why would the impostor do the same thing?”

“Oh, I’ve no fucking idea to any of this, child! Why train someone in such a thing? Unless, of course, both Ghrelin and our impostor were participating in some unusual duties there on the Shroud. Duties that for some reason required tapping. And duties that Thelenai and her crew do not wish us to know about!”

“Can we translate this code of Ghrelin’s?” I said. “Will it take days, or weeks, or—”

“Oh, it is a simple pattern, and easily mastered.” She waved a hand. “I believe I had it all translated on the ride back today.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You…have mastered a nonverbal language used by a dying sect of monks, ma’am,” I said dubiously, “in less than a day?”

“I mean, it’s not too technical,” she said. “It’s just three damned fingers tapping, it can only be so complex.” She saw the skeptical look on my face. “Would you like me to translate what Ghrelin said, Din,” she snapped, “or would you prefer to stand there and keep doubting me like a stubborn little prick?”

“Translate away, ma’am.”

“Right…” She cleared her throat and said, “Unless I am mistaken, today our friend Ghrelin was tapping out the words… Sorrow. Sorrow. Despair. We are doomed. It is doomed. Failure. Sorrow. What have I done. Who has done this to me. Despair. Doom. I am doomed. And yesterday, when you first met him, his tapping was saying— No. No. No. No. How. Cannot be. Please, no. Cannot be. Cannot be. ” She sniffed. “And that, I think, was all. Not very positive commentary, really.”

A long silence, broken only by the crash of the distant waves.

“He was saying all that?” I said faintly.

“Yes. Unconsciously, perhaps, like he was trained to let every thought in his brain spill down his arm to his fingers to be tapped out. How deliciously ridiculous, yes?”

“I find all these mentions of doom somewhat less than delightful, ma’am,” I said weakly.

“Oh, don’t melt to pieces on me now, Din! We’ve no idea what Ghrelin was referencing. He could have been talking about his preparations for his dinner, for all we know. Yet I am most interested in one bit in particular— Who has done this to me? ”

“I see…The Apoths are lying to us, but they do not know who the killer is.”

“If we believe his absurd little coded tapping is true, then yes. They very much want us to catch the bastard, and are willing to give us anything we need to do so— except tell us what they’re actually up to. Which makes me think they are working upon something very secret, and very dangerous—and that our killer is likely involved in it.”

The silence lingered on. The tiny flame I’d placed in the stove had now turned to smoke.

“Something to do with the Shroud?” I asked quietly.

“Possibly,” she said. “Two Apoths, both of them tapping. And both of them, apparently, are geniuses, of a sort…for one served on the Shroud itself, and indeed built the veil that surrounds it, while the other pulled off a theft of frankly absurd complexity. Then there is the mention of marrow, and their reaction to it. And we know the impostor did not steal healing grafts…So, what if what was in that box had something to do with the Shroud, or this marrow?”

I stared at her as the wood smoke filled the room, my heart flitting in my chest. “Then what shall we do, ma’am?”

“Oh—we catch him, Din! We worry about Ghrelin and the other Apoths later. Let us focus on our thief and see what we can find.”

—

After I had made her tea, I waited quietly as Ana read through the parchments Thelenai had sent. She finally took a thunderous slurp, then sat back and pronounced: “Well, Din. We are now very definitely in the drudgery bit of our work.”

I grimaced, for I was well familiar with this speech. “How many people are you sending me after, ma’am?”

“It’s a bad one this time. Not quite as bad as Logirstad, where you had to dig through that landfill, but…still a piece of work.” She handed a piece of parchment off to me. “There are forty-three Apothetikal officers who were given permissions to that chest in that vault.”

I took the page and began engraving the names, squinting to make the letters hold still for my eyes.

“You are going to have to work this list closely, Din. Corner all of them and establish their locations during the past two, three weeks. Let’s see who was where.”

“But we’re not optimistic—are we, ma’am?”

“No,” she conceded. “I rather doubt if you can just go about knocking on doors and stumble upon some squirrelly fucker with a big trunk of costumes and wigs. We are still staggering in the dark. But your work will create a spark of light, I think—and with that, we can perhaps begin a bonfire.”

“I’ll start first thing tomorrow, ma’am,” I sighed. My feet began to ache in expectation of the sheer amount of land I’d have to traverse to find all of these folk.

Ana looked me over. “Still haven’t quite settled into your role as investigator, have you, Din?”

“I look, and talk, and ask your questions. I chase your knaves and scoundrels. Is that not enough?”

“It is for me,” she said. She shot me a sharp look. “But I wonder if it’s enough for you. Mostly because your current method of emotional management is obviously not working!”

“What do you mean, current method?” I asked, perplexed.

“I mean,” she fumed, “that I know you slipped out the other night, boy, despite my specific orders that you rest! And while I do not know where your spiritual serenity lies, I am pretty sure it isn’t in another person’s bed, or ass, or whatever the hell it is you keep getting up to in the evenings!”

I was so mortified that I nearly fainted straightaway. “Oh, by hell,” I whispered.

“I’m not personally offended by your behavior, of course,” Ana continued, “but I’d have thought it’d at least make you somewhat happier, given that there appear to be dozens of people willing to nightly part their legs or lips for you. I mean, thank Sanctum you’ve got some of the Empire’s best immunities in your blood, otherwise your wick would’ve surely rotted off ages ago!”

“There is no need for this talk, ma’am!” I hissed.

“Oh, don’t bother with discretion now!” she said. “You’ve all the prudence of an inebriated cow! I’m half surprised people don’t gossip that you are a whore for hire, and I your pimp! It’d all be very amusing, if the reason for your consternation weren’t so obvious!”

“And what reason do you think that is, ma’am?” I demanded, flustered.

“It is that you believe we do little significant in our work!” Ana thundered. “And thus, you dream of transferring to the Legion!”

I gazed at her, stunned. I had no idea she’d known of my secret wish. I wondered how I had been so obvious.

“How…” I said. “How did you…”

Ana sighed and tried to collect herself. “Your mind is easy to guess at,” she said. “For you are a decent sort, Din, and a decent young man dreaming of serving our most honored Iyalet is not the most preposterous thing. And I know you did not choose the Iudex. Rather, I chose you. Yet tell me—do you really think you do no good in your service, child? That this duty does not matter ?”

“I…I do try to think so, ma’am,” I admitted quietly.

“But?”

“But…when we come, the deed is already done. The body is cold, the blood cleaned away. We often find the killer, but that heals nothing, as far as I can see. It only leads to a rope, or a cage, and many more tears.” I swallowed. “Is it so strange a thing, ma’am, to helplessly look upon the slain and dream of instead saving lives?”

“Ahh, but you forget the emperor’s most famous teaching, Din,” Ana said. “Ironic given that the words are so pertinent to this case!”

I nodded glumly as I realized what she meant. “ Sen sez imperiya. ”

“Yes. You are the Empire, and all your deeds matter, both large and small! You know the words, but I do not think you know the lesson, not yet.” She cocked her head. “I’ll make a deal with you, Din. When the time comes that you are eligible to transfer to the Legion, I’ll write your recommendation myself.”

My face flushed, for I could not bring myself to admit that with my father’s debts floating over me, even her recommendation would be of no help. “Ma’am,” I protested. “You…you really shouldn’t…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, child,” she sniffed. “I can do as I’d like, and I’d prefer an investigator who wants to be here. Yet I suspect that when that time comes, you may not wish to transfer.”

“Why not, ma’am?”

“Because you are a reasonably smart boy. I suspect you shall come to realize what many Iudexii eventually learn—that though the Legion defends our Empire, it falls to us to keep an Empire worth defending.”

I had no idea what to say to that, so I merely bowed my head. But then a thought struck me.

For so long, I had accepted Ana as a component of the Iudex without thought: for all I knew, she had popped from the womb bound up in blue, and with a blindfold on her head. But now I wondered: why did she serve in the Iudex, of all the Imperial Iyalets? Why here, when her genius could suit nearly any other department, with their own innumerable puzzles and problems?

I asked her this, and she smirked. “Hmm. I thought I had done my best to dissuade such ponderings, Din.”

“It only seems fair, given that you know so much of my own mind, ma’am.”

“Perhaps.” She was silent for a very long time. “I shall say only—some Iudexii learn the value of justice while they serve. Others come with the conviction already within them. I am of this latter group.”

“Why was justice so important to you, ma’am?”

“Why do you think?” she snapped. “You’re not stupid. You will come to the conclusion eventually, I’m sure.”

I fell silent, abashed. I was saved only by a sharp knock at the door. Ana waved a hand and said, “Go. Let us see what new madness this realm drops at my doorstep.”

I went to the door and opened it to find a man holding yet another package, this one carefully wrapped in mosscloth.

“Was told to bring this round, sir,” the man said. “From the music workshop. I believe it’s already been paid for in full?”

“Oh, yes,” I said. I took it from him, thanked him, and bowed. Then I shut the door and returned.

I set the package down before Ana. “I think you shall appreciate this, ma’am.”

She frowned, puzzled, before her face lit up, and in an instant it was like she’d forgotten all we’d argued about. “Ahh! Is it? Oh, my goodness…” She clapped, girlishly giddy, and unwrapped the mosscloth to reveal a small, finely made Pithian lyre. “Oh, tremendous. Tremendous! ” She scooped it up, tuned it for a bit, then set it down on the floor next to her other one. Then she simultaneously played the same chord progression on each with her left and right hand, a strangely haunting tune. “How excellent. Did you know that the lyre duet is one of the ancient arts of Yarrow, Din?”

I nudged the fire in the stove and began making another pot of tea, this one for myself. “Is it, ma’am?”

“Yes. Some say it reflects the dominance of twins and triplets in the royal lineage here—a rather fascinating biological quirk. Led to some very interesting issues with inheritance, and many brothers killing brothers, sometimes at ages as young as six. Horrible shit, really!” Another simultaneous chord progression. “But it did make for such beautiful music…”

I watched as her pale fingers danced across each lyre, plucking out the sad, woodsy music, a dreamy smile splashed across her face as she meditated on these horrors. I thought of all she’d said but could make no sense of it. I still knew remarkably little of her history, really; indeed, I’d never met anyone who could explain her. Even Thelenai had been bewildered.

Ana had only grown close to telling me what augmentations she possessed once, back in Talagray, saying: My situation made me amenable to an…experiment. An alteration. The nature of which should not bother you—for you would not be able to comprehend it.

Yet this, like everything else, still meant very little to me.

“When are you going to tell me what augmentations you have, Ana?” I asked quietly. “And how it is you can do all you can do?”

“When I need to, you little shit,” she said, “and no earlier! Now, go get some rest. Some real rest, this time. For tomorrow the drudgery begins!”