by Jill Braden
Inattra turned around and leaned against the cabinet. “I knew Jez back in Rantuum. Not friends, you understand, but our social circles overlapped. He– She– Your genders are too clumsy for my people, too limited. She was amazing. So talented. Black lotus stole that from her. Toward the end, all she cared about was her next pipe, and I had to watch QuiTai desperately try to distract Jez from it, even though she had to know it was useless. Vapor is evil. I won’t touch it. I don’t stop the workers here from offering it to their customers, but it makes my skin crawl to have it under the roof.”
More gossip. They were determined to distract him.
Kyam pointed to the empty desktop. “Anything odd here?”
“The desk is always bare like that. She demands that everything be put away in the safe, even if I leave the office for only a minute.”
“But not her journal?”
“I can’t read that. Can you? She doesn’t need to hide it. Business records and coins are another matter. Things like that you don’t leave out.”
“Are the records in the big safe only for the Red Happiness?”
Inattra snorted. “Do you actually think I’d tell you if QuiTai kept details of her network in there too? Do you think I’d dare look at anything I wasn’t supposed to? She’s not stupid enough to leave that sort of information around where anyone could see it. She’s careful, always. Never slips.”
“She doesn’t trust you?”
“Don’t try to sow discord, Governor. I know my place. She trusts me within the scope of my job, and that’s all I care about. She doesn’t give people a chance to betray her. If I messed up the things she entrusts to me here, she’d shove me out in the street so fast I wouldn’t have time to blink. I have no illusions about that. But at least this job is all I have to worry about.”
“You expect me to believe she’s never once let anything accidentally slip in front of you? Not once?”
Inattra glanced away and fiddled with the side propellers on the rigid balloon. “I occasionally hear about her business outside the Red Happiness, but I don’t want to disappear like some other people I could name, so don’t even bother asking what it was that I heard.” He walked to the wardrobe beside the settee and yanked open the door. “Now find what you came for and go. We’re both trying to beat the sun, so let’s get out of each other’s way.”
Kyam was tempted to turn around and leave. So what if QuiTai had changed clothes? She’d obviously been down at the wharf for a reason, and if that reason was to meet Mityam Muul, she most certainly would have worn her finest continental fashion. So why had she changed?
It probably didn’t matter.
No matter how hard he tried to convince himself of that, he couldn’t believe it. QuiTai always played to her audience. She was always aware of costume and script. He’d watched her try to climb the veranda stairs in that ridiculously tight skirt that bound her legs. But she hadn’t frowned until that subtle double-take at her sleeve.
Did he really want to know why? Would it tell him who murdered Turyat?
He clenched his jaw and strode to the wardrobe. Inattra folded his arms across his chest.
She’d hung the jacket and skirt in the wardrobe. Her scent wafted to him as he touched the jacket. He lifted the sleeve so the light fell on the raw silk. His eyes closed. It wouldn’t change the truth, but he could pretend for a moment it was mud, or tamtuk grease – anything except what he knew it was.
How could he have been so stupid as to believe in her? It was what he’d most feared he’d find. He tore the jacket from the hanger. His temper was on the boil, and a storm was gathering in his mind. With a grunt of dismissal, he stomped past Inattra, who flattened against the wall to get out of his way.
Chapter 14: A Dungeon Meeting
There weren’t any soldiers guarding the dungeon. Kyam feared they’d already executed QuiTai – although the way he felt, he could do it himself. She’d fooled him for the last time.
He grabbed a jellylantern from the hook on the wall and stomped down the stairs. Oh, the things he would say to her! Terrible words welled up on his tongue.
Maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed far darker in the dungeon than it had been earlier. There was only one jellylantern down there now.
“I assumed that when they locked you in a dungeon cell, you spent your time either being tortured or in isolation. That only goes to show how wrong I was. There’s a constant stream of visitors down here. Hello, Governor. Have you eaten today?” QuiTai asked.
He squinted until he saw her shadowy form. She was sitting against the far wall with her head tipped back. She rose and walked toward him. Her hair fell to her knees in twisting, fuzzy locks as if she were a child. Kyam knew how much she hated being seen like that. He was angry enough with her that it made him happy, although he wondered which soldier had been brave enough to force her to let it down.
“Oh, dear. A storm seems to have settled on your brow and you’re swelling with outrage. Could it be you have come here to scold me, Kyam?”
He flung the jacket at her face.
“That would have been much more effective if the cell bars weren’t in the way. Would you like to open my cell so you can try again?”
He hated it when she mocked him like that. He ground his fist into his palm. “I might lose control and leave fingerprints on your lovely throat like the Devil does.”
Her smirk faded. This must be what she looked like when she killed: absolutely calm, in control, and without a trace of humanity in her eyes. “I’d like to see you try, Governor Zul.”
“That’s a neat trick. Have you been practicing with the acoustics in here?”
“What trick?”
“The way you make it sound as if there’s something in the dark corners down here, and the way your voice slithers behind me and makes the hair at the back of my neck stand up.”
It wasn’t her voice that was giving him chills despite the heat. She looked like a vengeful surkraim spirit, half drowned and full of malignant fury. But he was the one with the right to be angry here, not her.
She pulled the jacket through the bars and examined the ripped seam at the shoulder as she walked to the back of her cell.
“Don’t you turn your back on me, QuiTai! Don’t you dare.” His chest rose and fell quickly as he glowered at her. He knew most of his anger was about humiliation, even though he’d duped himself. The shame was almost unbearable, so he lashed out at her as if it were her fault.
Her head turned, but not enough that she could look at him. It reminded him of the day they’d first met. If he’d known how treacherous she was, would he have spent so much time trying to figure her out? Yes, a thousand times yes, because even though he knew she was poison, he couldn’t resist her.
“There’s blood on that sleeve,” he said.
She turned to face him. “Yes.”
What could he do with that? He realized he’d hoped she would lie. “It makes you look damn guilty.”
“Do you want me to explain it away to ease your mind?”
How did she say what he was feeling when even he couldn’t put it into words? “It’s not like that.”
“Yes, it is, Kyam.”
He took a deep breath. “Why can’t you ever answer a question? Why is there blood spatter on your sleeve? You always dress in continental fashions when you’re dealing with Thampurians, but today, you changed from this outfit into a sarong before you went down to the harbor.”
“I did?”
“You were seen.”
What was that flicker that crossed her face? Fear? Concern? It went away too quickly for him to figure it out.
He gritted his teeth. “Why did you change clothes?”
“There, now. Was it so hard to ask me in a reasonable tone?”
Did she have any idea how irritating she was? He couldn’t let her get the better of him. He had to calm down. “The blood. Explain it.”
She lifted a finger. “Before I do, I feel a prelimin
ary discussion is called for.”
“One of your word games?”
“A word game? Yes and no. I prefer to think of it as clarification,” she said.
“You would.”
“Do you want to know about the blood, or do you want to know specifically if it’s Turyat’s? Keeping in mind that you only have a few hours left to find his killer. If you fail, you lose your only chance at freedom.”
No one could be that infuriating by accident. He ran his hand over his hair as he counted to ten a few times.
A low growl, or maybe it was a groan, echoed through the dungeon. Was she mocking him? He felt like growling back at her. But how did she do that? It had to be a stage trick.
“It’s–”
“No, it isn’t the same thing, Kyam, if that’s what you were about to say. Far be it from me to tell you what to think, but if I were trying to figure out what happened in the Red Happiness this morning, I’d limit the scope of my questions to Turyat’s death.”
His mouth snapped shut. Lizzriat had told him to narrow his focus too. Did he want to know more? He was never sure. “I know you’re up to something. It’s always a game with you.”
Her gaze traveled slowly down his face to his chest. By the time it reached his thighs, he had to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a moment.
“Of course it’s a game for me. That’s a given. You want to find Turyat’s real killer, so you can get me out of here and use me to buy your freedom. I’m not quite ready to leave the fortress, though, so I’m not going to give you the answer.”
“And what do you want? Why are you here?”
She was like the surface of a calm lake, reflecting sky rather than let anyone peer into its depths. “I wanted you to investigate the murders of my lieutenants and bring their killers to trial. I asked you to stop Cuulon from arresting my people for simply gathering in the marketplace and during our festivals. But I had to settle for this.”
That stung. “There is no such thing as justice, QuiTai. No one gets it.”
She grabbed the cell bars and looked up at him. “We should still try.”
For once, she wasn’t cold or distant. She looked now like an actress playing a surkraim spirit, as if the mask was floating above her true face and only he could see beyond it. What he saw was worry and sorrow. She’d started down a grim path and was determined to see it to the end, no matter the cost.
Maybe he could bend a little and do this her way.
“Is the blood on that sleeve Turyat’s?” he asked.
“Ah! You’ve decided to focus on the right questions. No, the blood isn’t Turyat’s. And to anticipate your next question, it has nothing to do with his death.”
His relief was telling. He cared much more than he’d admitted to himself. “If you say so.”
“I’m here to help, Governor.”
A slow smile spread across his face. This was like before, when they’d worked together. He shouldn’t have been so happy. “Of course you are. Your lovely neck never entered into it, sweetheart.”
She batted her eyelashes at him.
“So… Do you have any idea what happened at the Red Happiness this morning?” Kyam asked QuiTai.
He wasn’t sure if she was acting again or if she was truly reluctant to answer him. She rubbed one hand over another. Emotions cast shadows over her face in a constant kaleidoscope unlike her usual serene mask. The deliberations clearly made her unhappy. “I’ve been giving it serious thought since I heard he’d been killed. I have a theory,” she finally admitted.
“I’d like to hear it.”
QuiTai shook her head. “As you often say to me, ‘It’s an interesting story, but where’s the proof?’”
“And as I told you once, I’d take your theories over most people’s ‘facts’ any day.”
She stepped back from the bars and hugged her arms. “We shouldn’t work together. You have to know that you have the true answer.”
“But I’m too damn slow, and you’re running out of time! At least give me a hint.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“You pick the oddest things to be stubborn about.”
Was that the real reason he’d come to her? Maybe he’d wanted her to convince him that he could believe in her innocence, despite what he’d found.
He had no idea how to investigate a murder. He didn’t know what to do next. Time was slipping away, and if he ran off in the wrong direction, he’d waste what little he had. How did the police solve crimes? They asked questions. They verified answers. He could do that; but how did anyone know what questions to ask?
For a moment, he thought she might speak, but she frowned and slightly shook her head. Why wouldn’t she give him a hint?
“Listen, these are your options, as far as I know. You probably have something else up your sleeve,” he told her.
Did she react a little? He couldn’t be sure.
“Either you help me, or you take Grandfather’s deal. I don’t know what he’s offering you, but it can’t be good.”
“He wants me to work for him.”
A horrible suspicion dropped on him. Was he racing against Nashruu to recruit QuiTai? What would happen if he lost? “Grandfather wants you to work for him? Not for Thampurian Intelligence?”
She shook her head.
“Doesn’t that strike you as a bit treasonous?”
“Maybe to you, since you’re now bidding against him for my help. Oh, calm down. You and I have a deal, and I’m not about to ruin my hard-earned reputation by breaking it. However, if you fail to hold up your end, I’d be free to accept a better offer.”
“I’m working on it. If you’d help me…” He realized that wasn’t going to work. She wanted him to find the real murderer, but not because it would get her out of the fortress. He had to know with steadfast certainty that she was innocent. Unless he found the answer himself, he’d always have a bit of doubt. What a risk she was taking!
Kyam wanted to be flattered that she wanted him to have faith in her, but he couldn’t help being angry that she was gambling with his freedom.
“Your arrest couldn’t have come at a better time for Grandfather. He has much more power than I do to get you out of here.”
“But does he have the power to figure out who murdered Turyat? I think you have the edge there.”
He acknowledged her compliment with a sour smile. Too many things were happening too fast, and he’d been asleep while everyone else set their plots in motion.
“It’s probably pure coincidence that Nashruu arrived the day Turyat was murdered. Remember, the old man plays a long, long game. He’s patient. Nashruu all but admitted that she was sent here to woo me for him. She’s an interesting person, by the way. I liked her,” QuiTai said.
“Apart from your obvious charms – and by that, I mean your network of informants and smugglers – why would Grandfather try to recruit you?” Kyam asked.
“There is that pesky war looming on the horizon.”
“War on the continent. You’re a thousand miles from the battlefields of the last war.”
“Different war, different battles. Don’t discount the strategic importance of the Ponong Fangs. Thampur chased the Ravidians out of the Sea of Erykoli during the last war, making trade with the rest of the continent almost impossible. They want back in. Their economy relies on it.”
“Their caravans still come over the desert.”
“Caravans are inefficient and are pirated more often than ships. And before you mention trains, their rail lines are constantly devoured by sand storms or warped by heat in the great salt pans. Ships are the only way to trade with the rest of the continent.”
“Thank you for the big picture, but let’s focus on the local story. You may be many things, but you can’t be the key to stopping the war,” he said.
“If anyone would listen to me, they’d avoid it by giving the Ravidians, and anyone else who asks, the charts to the Ponong Fangs. Let them back into the Sea of Ery
koli. Don’t block the other routes around the Ponong Archipelago. Their excuse for war? Poof. Gone. We all move on.”
She was insane. “We’re not giving up our charts,” he said.
“Then you deserve everything that’s coming your way.”
He rubbed his forehead. “We were talking about why everyone in Thampur wants to get their hands on you. Wait! I put that the wrong way.”
“I know what you meant.”
“I suppose they want you to help with interrogations of spies and enemy soldiers. That psychic bond through your venom – if you injected some of it into a prisoner, you’d feel their physical reactions. At least, that’s the rumor. So if you were good enough at reading them, you’d know when they lied, or when they reacted to something. I can see where that would be useful.”
“And this, Mister Zul, is why I consider you the most dangerous man I’ve ever met. In all my life, I’ve never known any other Thampurian to figure that out. They get as far as the sexual possibilities, and then their minds wander off into the vast jungle of lust never to return again. But you, you have vision. You always make that leap beyond.”
He was quite pleased with himself.
“But you’re wrong. I mean, that should be why they want me; but as I said, they’re lust-addled idiots. Your Grandfather has another of my rumored talents in mind for exploitation, and I’m going to assume someone in Intelligence is after me for the same reason. The funny thing is that it’s the fake talent.”
“You’re going to have to remind me what this fake talent is.”
“They think I can see the future.”
“You can’t?”
She shook her head and quietly said, “No.”
“I’ve seen you predict many things that came true.”
“I’m a good guesser, but so are carnival hustlers and con artists.”
