Page 53

Chapter 53

Another ride back down the hill paths to Yarrowdale, this one conducted in near silence. All of us were still in some state of shock, and exhausted yet again by the dwindling excitement in our blood. Even Ana sat leaning in the corner of the carriage, her head lolling as we bounced down.

“He cried at the end,” said Malo quietly. “I cannot ken that.”

Ana’s voice was raspy and deep: “Pavitar? Yes…Fascinating, isn’t it?” She took a rattling breath. “Both the kings and the thieves, the angels and the utter bastards, are all inevitably quite human. Though that should not let our hand be any softer when justice is delivered!”

“Yet Pavitar shall not see justice,” said Malo.

“Are you so sure?” She coughed. “The man cherishes his kingdom and ancestry above all. Yet what kingdom could survive this? The days of Yarrow shall dwindle ever faster now, I think…and he shall have to watch it, like a neutered steer watching all the cows run free.”

Ana gasped and sat back against her wooden seat. It was not until the carriage lantern swung about just so that I saw the pained expression on her face.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” I asked.

“No,” she snapped, “I am not! I…I have pushed myself too far, visited too many different environs. I must soon get to a medikker’s bay, and rest.”

“Shall we go there now?” I asked. “Or would yo—”

“I would rather have my guts pulled from my ass!” she hissed. “I have toiled and gnashed my teeth far too much to retreat to the comfort of a pillow now! No. I shall see this done.” Her blindfolded face turned to me. “And I wish to see you doing it.”

“Doing what, ma’am?”

She turned back to the window. “We must proceed to the Yarrowdale docks and see what headway Thelenai has made. By talon and chitin, I mean to bury this one, and bury it deep.”

—

We finally came to the last pier of the docks, all creaking wood and lapping waters. Ana waved us on, coughing, and Malo and I exited and raced along down the pier toward a clutch of lights at the end of it.

The lights proved to be a circle of lanterns arranged on the wooden platform. The officers within the circle were all bound in warding suits and were gathered about an open box upon the dock. The scene seemed akin to a midnight ritual, rather than the work of Apoths.

I stopped one of the officers and asked, “How goes it?”

The officer waved a hand forward and said, “See for yourself.” Perhaps it was because of his helmet, but I could not tell if the comment came from relief or despair.

We pushed our way through until we came to the open box. A figure knelt before it, also bound in a warding suit, but their suit glimmered with the heralds of a commander-prificto. As I approached them, they turned their helmed head, and I saw green eyes within widen at the sight of me.

“Ah, Kol,” said Thelenai softly. “Excellent. Tell me…was it all as Dolabra foresaw? Was he there, upon the throne?”

“He was, ma’am,” I said.

“And?”

“He is dead, ma’am. Slain by another of the court.”

“Ah.” She paused. “How odd it is that this neither saddens nor gladdens me. Perhaps it is because I have already grieved him once this day. Or…”

She turned back to the open box. I saw hints of a familiar device within it—the chimneyed glass dome, the intricate bit of wiring suspended in it that looked rather like a tea strainer, the brass tubes snaking about it—yet the thing was cocooned in moss, and vines, and flowering fungi I’d never seen before, a queer riot of textures and colors.

“By the titan’s taint,” muttered Malo. “What manner of madness is this?”

“We found it suspended perfectly in a cask of water, you know,” murmured Thelenai. “One of twenty that would be loaded into the hydricyst. It’s a very common procedure. Something simple, even thoughtless. And because of its suspension in water, the wardens could never catch a whiff of it! We’d never have found it at all, had Dolabra not told us to open up everything we found here. I cannot comprehend how Pyktis or his people managed it. Perhaps he put it here weeks ago, even before he kidnapped and killed Sujedo—the very first move he ever made.”

I gazed down at the tangle of growth within the box. “What has he done to it?”

“Graft trips,” said Malo. “Organic traps, all wound together, each dependent on the next.”

“Correct,” said Thelenai. “It’s quite clever, do you know? There is a time element to it. After several days, certain aspects of it should decay, and then…” She laughed lightly. “How amazing! He was able to predict not only what I would do but also the precise amount of time to build into this contraption, to ensure its evil purpose.” Her smile faded. “What a thing I did, in granting such powers to that man. And yet…even he could not predict Dolabra.”

I cast my eye along the pier to our carriage, waiting in the darkness.

“Can you stop it, ma’am?” asked Malo.

“Mm?” said Thelenai. “Why, of course, Signum! I’ve already done so.” She reached behind the crate and produced a long bronze cylinder. “Without the very fertilizer that would make the kani, the diffuser is quite useless.”

Malo and I stared at her, frozen in disbelief.

“It’s…it’s safe, then?” asked Malo in a strangled voice.

“This is the Empire, children,” said Thelenai, “and no reagent is truly safe. But once this is burned and disposed of, yes, all will be safe.”

We both breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Sanctum,” said Malo. “Thank fucking Sanctum, it’s done? It’s truly, finally done ?”

Thelenai smiled sadly. “Done? Not quite. There is one more thing to do.” She removed her helmet, baring her bald, sweat-dappled brow to the night. Then she shut her eyes, taking in a deep breath of the sea air, and said, “Kol—would you walk with me for a moment?”

—

I followed the commander-prificto to the very end of the pier, where she stood gazing out at the bay. I joined her in staring at the tremendous, shivering green construct of the Shroud, glowing in the fading moonlight.

“What a sight it is, eh?” said Thelenai.

“It is, ma’am,” I said. “First I feared it, but…now I find something beautiful in it.”

“How kind of you to say! I once thought it beautiful, but…now I find it strange to look upon. First, all my life was bent on making it. Then all my life was bent on making it irrelevant. But now, perhaps, I shall succeed…and the Fifth Empire—as some call it—shall unfold.” She sighed. “A pity that I shall not see it.”

“You won’t, ma’am?”

Another high, light laugh. “No. No, of course not.” She turned to me. “So. How do these things commonly go now, Signum Kol?”

“I’m…afraid I don’t comprehend your meaning, ma’am.”

“My arrest, Signum Kol,” she said gently.

I stared at her blankly.

“I now turn myself in,” she said, “you see, for all the wrongs I did in bringing these threats about.”

The waves lapped about us. There, in the distant belly of the horizon, a lance of gray dawn light stabbed through the clouds.

“You mean, ma’am,” I said, “that you wish me to—”

“Did your immunis not tell you?” she asked.

“N-no?”

“I see…She asked me to make my choice days ago, and make it I did. The marrow is now safe. My plans shall succeed. I will win an era of peace and prosperity for the Empire…but I committed great crimes in doing so. I kept the augury a secret and worked mightily to hide it from the Senate of the Sanctum. Because of this choice, dozens are dead, and the entire Empire might have unraveled. I would not wish for any other Apothetikal to follow in my steps, or grow so prideful and careless as I. And…I feel I do not deserve to see the bright future I have made.” She gazed west, toward the High City. “I, perhaps, am more like Pyktis and his father than a true imperial servant. And I should not taint the world to come with my touch.”

She turned back to me, smiling sadly. I stood there, struggling to imagine how to respond. I had never arrested someone of such high office before. The idea felt slightly surreal, especially since all the suffering she’d brought about had been for a very noble purpose.

“But you did so in service to your people,” I said. “You thought tha—”

“No, Kol,” Thelenai said. “I was not thinking of my people. My eyes are clear now. I was thinking of myself. To serve is a tremendously humbling thing. How easy it is to mistake glory and fame for duty! But duty is thankless, invisible, forgettable—but oh, so very necessary.” She smiled at me again. “You know that, of course. Long have I heard it said that the Iudex is the most thankless of all imperial services—yet without it, all my labors here would have come to naught.” She stood up straight, sniffed, and smoothed down her robes. “What is one more life to give, for this great pursuit? I have asked it of others. Now I shall do so myself. So. Let us go, Kol. Finish my story for me, so the next one can begin unblemished.”

I listened to the waves crashing about me and watched the shimmering form of the veil in the distance. How great the world seemed in that moment, and yet so small.

“Kol?” she said.

I took out my engraver’s bonds and said, “Commander-Prificto Kulaq Thelenai of the Imperial Apothetikal Iyalet, I am now placing you under bonds for the imperial crimes of extreme disregard of duty, negligence for the lives of imperial servants, and the hindrance of an Iudex investigation. You shall henceforth be detained and placed within confines until you are submitted before the authorities of the Imperial Taxiarkhe. I warn you now that all actions and speech shall be submitted as testimony, and suggest you consider how you respond.”

Another sad smile, and she nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course.” She extended her wrists to me, and I placed my bonds upon her, and I led her away into the night.

—

When it was over —when she’d been formally charged, and transferred to confines, and locked away in the Apoth holding cells—I exited to find Ana’s carriage waiting outside for me. The pilot had climbed down from her perch and looked quite alarmed.

“She told me to follow you, sir,” said the pilot. “Though she is quite unwell…”

I dashed to the door of the carriage and threw it open. Ana lay upon the wooden seat, her head at an angle, her breath rattling.

“Is it done?” she gasped. “Did you do it?”

I moved to lift her up. “Ma’am! Ma’am, I…”

Her white hand flashed out and gripped my wrist with shocking strength. “Is it finished, Din?”

“I…It is. Thelenai is in confines. She turned herself in.”

Ana nodded weakly, murmured, “Good,” and slumped back against her seat. “All justice duly done, be the culprits Yarrow or imperial. Good job, boy…Now. The medikkers, please?”

Her eyes closed, and I shouted to the carriage pilot to take us away.