Page 31 of A Drop of Corruption

“By hell,” said Kardas. “Are we to believe that this impostor appears to have had not only the blood privileges that allowed him to open a Treasury box…butalsothose of an Apoth? Specifically, for access tothis onebox?”

No one said anything.

“Then our impostor has…has a spectrum of magic blood within him?” Kardas asked. He laughed miserably. “A mix of them, like some kind of mulled wine, that allows him to open nearly any damned safe he chooses, no matter how it is warded?”

“That,” said Tufwa, “or he is the greatest bank robber I have ever heard of.”

I looked to Malo. “We need the owner of this safe here,” I said. “This Ghrelin. And we need him talking. If we can’t find him, we open the damned box ourselves.”

“R-right…” said Malo. She looked back at her two wardens. “Fetch him here. Tell him we have some questions about the contents of his safe, but no more than that.”

“And please check the other safes,” I said to Tufwa as they left. “It’s possible the man broke into them as well. I doubt it, but we will need to know.”

Chapter 13

Again, we waited. The sunslowly slid through the sky until it hung heavy over the western hills. Tufwa and his colleagues continued to work, opening up safe after safe. Eventually they finished, with nothing else found: only the weight of the safe belonging to this Immunis Rava Ghrelin had been changed.

Finally we heard the whine of the gate hinges, followed by the clack of the locks of the great bank door. Then the wardens returned, followed by a third person.

He was a tall man, and delicately built, with pale gray skin and eyes so gleaming black they had the look of fresh tar. His head was quite hairless, but this did not surprise me: many Apoths who worked with reagents preferred to simply alter their scalps so their hair did not grow at all, rather than cleanse and sterilize their hair every day after their work. Perhaps in compensation for this, his face had been ornamented with paints and powders, a common practice of some Kurmini men: a blush of brown to his gray cheeks, and lines about his eyes. Yet despite these graceful touches, his face bore a look of anxiety akin to that of some caged creature startled by an intrusion into its paddock.

I looked to Tufwa as he entered. He gave me a slight nod—That’shim.

“I shall let you take the lead on this, Signum,” said Kardas quietly behind me. “I believe you have more experience with questioning people…”

“As you wish, sir,” I said. I stood as the man entered, moved to intercept him before the vault, and studied his heralds as he approached. The axiom symbol twinkled at his breastbone, the spiral set within a square: a man with a mind for calculation, then.

I bowed low to him. “Good afternoon. Would you be Immunis Rava Ghrelin, sir?”

“I am,” he said warily. “And you are?”

“Signum Dinios Kol, of the Iudex.”

“Iudex? I wasn’t aware that we had Iudex in Yarrowdale, being as this region is not yet formally part of the Empire.”

“I’m with Special Division, sir,” I said. “We are only assigned to high-priority situations.”

Ghrelin slowly nodded. Then his gaze flicked to Kardas, and he studied the prificto’s heralds. “Ah. That…that Treasury officer, the missing one. Is that it?”

“Correct, sir,” I said. “I’m afraid I have to ask you a few questions about your business at this bank. Would you like to sit?”

He thought about it. “No,” he said finally.

“All right,” I said, somewhat taken aback. “Might I ask what your duties are here in Yarrowdale, sir?”

“What does this have to do with my vault box, Signum?” he demanded.

“I am unsure at this moment, sir. But I must know before we continue further.”

His mouth compressed into a tight, bloodless line. “I am part of the Medikker Fermentation Division. We are responsible for designing new alterations, grafts, and suffusions to amend issues with the human body. Is that what you need?”

“Issues such as…?”

He waved a hand impatiently. “Such as combating disease, or deformations, or chronic injuries and the like! Now tell me—why am I here, please? What is going on with my box, Signum?”

I studied his expression. He now seemed cold and imperious, yet there was something brittle about his eyes. I felt he was trying to readmy own expression, as if I were a medikker myself and he wished to hear news of a family member’s prognosis.

I thought:He already knows.