by Sam Hawke
“I’m sure.” Another long pause. “Look. Cre—Jovan. I’ve worked for people before who demanded loyalty and didn’t deserve it. I think you’re the other type, but I want you to tell me now if I’m wrong.”
“You’re not wrong, Sjease,” Dija called out fiercely. “He’s a good person.” Her loyalty hurt like fire in my chest. What had I ever done to earn it?
“I’m not going to pretend the explanation we gave was true,” I said to Sjease flatly. “Or that it’s not my fault, in a roundabout way at least, that a man is dead. I have to live with that. Our family has enemies, and sometimes it can be dangerous being around us. But I didn’t strangle anyone.”
They gave me a weak smile. “Never doubted that for a moment.”
“I can’t promise more trouble won’t follow this,” I said. “What we told them now should get us through today, especially if Thendra backs it up. But if the only witness able to say I wasn’t at that party is my own heir, a thirteen-year-old girl, they’re not going to give up that easily. Who’s to say I came back here with Dija? My sister, my lover, my employee? Hardly impartial witnesses.” I shook my head. “This could get ugly, Sjease. I wish neither of you were mixed up in it.” I found myself irrationally angry, not with Sjease, but with myself. Once again, control was slipping from my grip, and I was afraid, so very afraid, I was going to let everyone down yet again.
INCIDENT: Poisoning of Credola Kathrin Ash
POISON: Bitterseed
INCIDENT NOTES: Well-known costumer and seamster, victim had complained to family members of shortness of breath, repeated headaches, and dizziness. Eventually suffered seizure and died. Rumors suggested involvement of one of a number of rivals in Craft Guild. This proofer undertook private investigation and found evidence that insides of C. Kathrin’s gloves and at least one collared dress contained traces of bitterseed. Anonymous information left with Order Guards. Suggest continued observation of C. Rowenna Reed (seamstress and hatter) and Il-Obro esIana (costumer) as likely suspects.
(from proofing notes of Credola Ettenna Oromani)
8
Kalina
The day following masquerade was always a subdued one. It functioned as a recovery day, particularly for athletes and performers who still had events on before the close, and there were few official functions. No doubt the story of what had happened to the Talafan guard was being shared, but today it would be a trickle rather than a flood. Tomorrow might be a different story.
Ana and Etrika accepted the explanation for our delay and the “mugging,” Ana thin-lipped as Jov apologized for her daughter’s proximity to danger. Dija, whose illness had cleared up with the judicious consumption of a counteragent but who was confined to bed for the day to maintain the image, emphasized how he had prioritized getting her home safe before even having his injuries seen to. Clearly, though, this mess had cost Jov any little ground he might have gained with her mother over the course of the stay.
The boys, on the other hand, seemed to think the entire thing sounded exciting and were only annoyed their little sister had been out later than they’d been allowed. Etrika, too, had been unconcerned. “There are thieves in Telasa, too, darling,” she’d pointed out mildly. “An unfortunate tax on city life, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose.” Ana had returned to her book, signaling an end to the conversation, but her eyes hadn’t moved on the page. I did understand, and sympathize; our story was preferable to the truth, but it still made Jov seem a naive, undisciplined guardian.
By the time Tain arrived, as discreetly as possible, Sjease was playing muse with Dija in her chambers, and Ana and the boys had gone to visit some of the other families who had come from Telasa for karodee. At the sight of the Chancellor, Etrika too excused herself to meet up with a friend. I made the tea while Jov relayed the whole sorry story in all the detail he could remember, halting and visibly ashamed.
Tain had a plate of harpea dip and black bread on his lap, and while the bread was occasionally venturing into the paste and around the plate as he listened, it rarely made it anywhere near his mouth.
“You have to eat,” I reminded him. Usually I left the nagging to Jov, but he was distracted and, honor-down, Tain looked thin. Obligingly, he ate a piece of now slightly sodden bread, chewing without enthusiasm.
“I’ve fucked up,” Jov finished baldly. “I’ve gotten someone killed and we’re in a lot more trouble than we thought.”
Tain raked his hands through his hair. “But you’re sure you’re all right?”
“Sore. Sorry for myself.” Jovan shrugged. “Battered and bruised but no permanent damage.”
“And you, Lini?” Tain’s sharp gaze took in my hands, shaking as I poured the tea, and he took the pot from me wordlessly. I appreciated it. Frustratingly I’d been unable to summon the energy to get much farther than from my bed to the main apartment, and the effort of maintaining a conversation, let alone an important one, was wearing on me. A lifetime of this cursed illness had taught me that when my energy was depleted, no level of willpower could increase it, and trying only made things worse. “Leaving me out of your adventures again,” he chided me, and I laughed.
“You do get in the way, you know.”
“Always.” For a second his smile made him look his old self. Then it dropped away and his face once again looked drained, wrung out like a juiced fruit.
“Are you all right?” I asked. “Nothing happened to you last night?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” He waved a hand impatiently. “Other than worrying myself sick about why you didn’t turn up, Jov. The one bloody night of the year it’s impossible to find anyone.”
“Sorry.”
That elicited a faint grin. “Yeah, that’s right, idiot,” he said fondly. “Time your elaborate beatings and kidnappings so as not to upset me, next time.”
Jov squeezed his shoulder and sighed. “So Chen didn’t bring any of this direct to you? I’ve been in here just waiting for someone else to come knocking.”
“She sent the Guards’ report of the night, but I haven’t gone through it yet. I assume it’s in that.”
“They mustn’t have identified the body yet,” I said thoughtfully. “I mean it’s obvious he’s Talafan, but if they knew he was with the Imperial party then Chen wouldn’t just be reporting it as an ordinary crime. It’ll be a whole diplomatic incident.”
“He wasn’t wearing a uniform,” my brother mumbled. “When they brought him in. He was dressed like a Silastian.” He narrowed his eyes at Tain. “Finish your meal.”
Tain sighed and tore off another small piece of bread.
“He wouldn’t have wanted to look like an Imperial soldier,” I said quietly. “I didn’t get a chance to say last night, but there’s a complication. The reason I knew who he was is that I caught him with the Princess at the masquerade.”
“With the Princess? Zhafi, you mean, the yellow-haired one?”
“Yes, and I mean with the Princess.”
Tain blinked. “Fuck.”
“Unfortunately, yes. Exactly.” I scratched my hand through my hair, feeling it stand up higher. “People were giving out dosed karodee cakes, and he was eating one when I saw him. He might have been an easy target, not knowing anyone or the language but being high and heartbroken.” I swallowed. “I can take some blame for it, too. If I hadn’t meddled, the women wouldn’t have been allowed to get dressed up and watch the masquerade, which is how Zhafi got away from the guesthouse without raising an alarm.”
We looked at each other glumly. Bad enough anyone had died, but it felt like the fortunes were actively conspiring against us here. “Maybe they knew who he was?” Jov said at last. “Honor-down, what are the chances of them pulling someone off the street who was sleeping with the Emperor’s daughter? Of all the people to have gotten caught up in this mess!”
I hesitated. “Presumably the Princess is going to worry when he doesn’t show back up at the guesthouse, but she’s not exactly going to run to her b
rother. She’s not supposed to have a lover.”
“She’s not married, is she?” Tain looked curious. “Astor went on about her a fair bit when he found out she was coming. I thought he rather fancied her, actually.”
That was an understatement of our former Ambassador’s extensive and effusive praise for the Princess. He was a pompous type, the kind who loved ceremony and the sound of his own voice, and he seemed determined both to resent me for taking the position and to impress upon me the full extent of his knowledge and expertise. “No, she’s not married. I suspect the Emperor, or Hiukipi, whoever’s running things, has plans to marry her off to their puppet ruler in the new province. She intimated as much to me yesterday. This might have been one last-ditch play for freedom.”
“You liked her.” Tain regarded me with his head cocked to one side, thoughtful. “I saw that yesterday. She must have made an impression.”
“I did like her.” I stared at my hands. “Honor-down, I felt sorry for her, too. And now … she’s going to find out he’s dead and not even be allowed to be seen to grieve.”
We all fell into silence. I stood up and returned the pot to the kitchen along with the rest of Tain’s abandoned food. When I came back, Jov was fidgeting, moving his empty cup from one hand to the other and back again. “I’ve been thinking,” he said quietly. “This morning. About what happened, and about our assassin. What if I’ve been looking at this wrong? What if the assassin wasn’t at those events to kill you, Tain? What if I’m the target?”
I blinked. “Well, then I’d say he’s not a very good assassin, Jov.”
“Not to kill me.” The cup was still moving back and forth, back and forth. “He could have killed me yesterday if he’d wanted. Instead he led me to these Prince’s Hands, and they could have killed me, but instead they staged this elaborate mess. Why? I’d never even heard their name until today.”
“They’re criminals. They could have been paid to discredit you, I suppose?” Tain frowned. “There’s plenty of people who’d like your family to be a bit less well respected and powerful.”
“What about the theater?” I said. “Your assassin was up in the rafters with poison darts, he wasn’t there to start rumors.”
“I thought he was aiming at Tain, and I assumed killing Bradomir was an accident, but what if it wasn’t?” He set the cup down with visible effort. “Karista looked like she blamed me at the time. Even though the Lekas called it heart failure, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been telling people otherwise in private.”
“So this was meant to stir up trouble between your family and the Lekas?”
I took a seat again; my legs were weak and I was suddenly unsure of my footing. “Bradomir hated us, but especially you. And everyone knew it. When he was forced to resign his Council seat to Sjistevo, remember that speech he gave?” Bradomir had stood outside the Manor gates, fueled by the rage of a once-powerful man forced from what he considered his rightful place, and delivered a scathing indictment of the “shadowy figures” who he claimed had spread lies about his family and holdings for their own benefit. I doubted our family had a more publicly known enemy.
Jov labored to his feet and hobbled into his own chambers without speaking. Tain and I glanced at each other, but when it became clear he wouldn’t be returning, we followed. My brother was at his desk, pen in hand, papers full of his neat handwriting and diagrams spread before him. He tapped his pen under a line of text and looked up, his eyes burning with excitement. “This here. This was the first time I remember seeing him at an event. It was the opening of the arena, remember? Then this is every other time, and everyone I can remember being there. I kept wondering how he knew we were going to be at all of these places because at least two”—here he tapped another two entries—“were times we weren’t at or on our way to a scheduled event. I’d been trying to work out why he’d chosen those times and places, or if he was just watching you all the time and I only occasionally noticed.”
“So now, let’s look in a different way,” I murmured. “Imagine Tain wasn’t the target. Did anything else happen, anything affecting you, at any of these events?”
We studied the list. It was a confusing, apparently patternless set of data, a combination of public events and ordinary political business. No murders. But Tain pointed to one entry.
“What about this one?”
“The Paractus retirement party?” Jov said. “Nothing happened there. I proofed the meal, it was fine.”
The Paractuses were a wealthy merchant family, well connected, but I hadn’t been at the party. I raised an eyebrow and he elaborated. “Ruzo Paractus was retiring as head of the family business. He made a party of it, said some rude things about his competitors, then at the end of the night shocked everyone by naming his nephew instead of his niece as the new head. Should have been in the Performers’ Guild, really. But no one died.”
“Ruzo’s niece made a total idiot of herself, remember? Got drunk, insulted her mother, claimed they stole the design for that water-resistant fabric from the Stones…”
Jov nodded, smiling faintly. “Yeah, but that wasn’t suspicious, was it? She was drunk because she was pissed off her Tashi picked her brother to take over the business. She drank too much and ran her mouth off.”
“And you were pleased,” Tain said.
“Yeah,” Jov agreed, “and so were you, because Kasha Paractus is a giant asshole.”
But I was remembering the other reason the Paractus family name was familiar. They’d been in dispute with our family over irrigation contracts. “Kasha was threatening to take us to the determination council,” I said. “And then it all went away because Rikto didn’t care and just canceled the contract and paid the fees.”
“If Kasha had been declared heir, like everyone expected, she wouldn’t have let that contract go,” Tain said. “But I’m not sure what an assassin could have done to cause it.”
“Kasha didn’t come in drunk,” Jov acknowledged a little gruffly. “She said something to me on the way in, I remember, and she was her usual self—rude and smug. It was only after she lost control and embarrassed Ruzo that he announced Rikto instead. What if someone was dosing her drinks?”
Working the list, we were able to find three more incidents that had affected the health or reputation of someone that had ultimately been to our family’s benefit, and one that had been to Tain’s. “It’s almost like this guy is trying to … help our families,” Tain said in frustration. “Until last night at least.”
I noticed one last entry that jogged a memory. “This one,” I said slowly.
Jov squinted. It had been an exhibition by a promising young painter using a new technique. “We went because the artist was at school with us.”
“I remember her work,” Tain commented. “But we didn’t stay long; Jov saw the man in the crowd and made us go out the back early. And you weren’t there, Lini, were you?”
“No,” I murmured, “but I remember it because her Tashi used to work in the diplomatic office in the Guild, and his heart failed right after the show. It was very sad, but he was elderly. I only remember because I had a meeting scheduled with him the next day.”
“What was the meeting about?” Jov asked.
“Nothing important. He was retired, but he mentioned some business contacts in Izruitn he wanted to introduce me to, or tell me about, or something. I think he was just trying to help me out if I took the Ambassador position.” I shrugged. “I can’t imagine what could have been important enough to our family that the assassin would kill him to stop that meeting.”
“If the goal is discrediting you, they could do it a lot easier than this,” Tain said, gesturing at the complicated lists and diagrams across the table. “If it took us this much effort to even notice it’s happening, it’s hardly a cunning strategy, is it?”
But the subtlety worried me. It felt less like the flailing of an incompetent villain and more like the scaffolding of a careful plan we could not yet fathom.
This play against Jovan had been an impulsive thing. It was the outlier, a rare direct attack.
“What we need,” Jovan said suddenly, as if I’d shared the thought out loud, “are the missing pieces of the puzzle. A full picture of everything they’ve been doing so we can find the connections.”
Tain scratched his cheek. “What if we asked at the hospital, to see whether anyone came in injured or were brought in dead on or around these dates? Then we could check whether any of the victims were at these events. We might find extra connections that way, maybe figure out what’s coming next.”
“Actually, that’s a smart idea,” Jov said.
“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Tain muttered, grinning.
“In the meantime, you should stay out of sight, Jov,” I said. “You’re injured, you can legitimately stay home to recover.”
But Jov was shaking his head. “There’re still one or two public events Tain has to be at. I have to be anywhere he is. No one else knows what the assassin looks like. Maybe his plan doesn’t involve killing you, Tain, but I’m not having you out there as a target on that chance.”
“And what about you?” I pointed out, a bit sharper than intended. “You’re lucky you’re not tied up in an investigation right now. Do I need to remind you how close we came?”
My brother looked at me and I immediately regretted saying it. Every death he’d caused hurt him, but this one … this one had been particularly bad. I’d dreamed about Tuhash’s terrible dead face, his protruding tongue, his eyes, the feel of his skin under my fumbling fingers at his neck. I shivered, and put one hand over Jov’s; he squeezed it back in understanding.
Tain put a tentative hand on Jov’s shoulder across the table. “Nothing’s going to happen, all right? The body was found in a house. It won’t be hard to figure out who hosted the party, and they’ll find the connection with the Hands. Chen’s people will find the real killers and this will all sound as ridiculous as it is.” He gave Jovan’s shoulder a little affectionate shake. “But listen, Lini’s right, I think you should lie low for a few days. I promise I’ll be careful when I go out, I’ll have the blackstripes on high alert and make sure they don’t let any strangers within spitting distance of me. We’ll travel by different routes, leave late or early, keep it unpredictable. We just have to ride out a few more days, then karodee will be done, we can package up and send home all our important guests and get to the bottom of this.”
