Page 6 of A Drop of Corruption

“And you found the right kind of blood in these bits.”

“These body parts didn’t have much blood in them, but they had enough for our tests. They contain the blood of a Treasury immunis. Since we are only missing one of those…well, must be Sujedo.”

I turned this over. “We seem to be missing quite a bit of him,” I said. “So that makes me wonder…”

“Could some madman carry Sujedo’s severed hand into a Treasury bank to open a safe, or some such?” asked Malo. She snorted. “Give us Apoths some credit. We can detect dead blood, sure, but the protective tests about the vaults are designed to respond to a high concentration oflivingtissues. Not dead ones.”

I stood over the shattered remains, tabulating all of this information.

“So,” I said. “In sum…we do not have all of Sujedo’s body.”

“Obviously,” said Malo.

“And we do not have any witnesses for his abduction, nor his death. Nor do we have any idea how either was managed.”

“We do not.”

“In fact, we do not actually knowwherehe died. Or when. Nor do we have any suspects whatsoever.”

“You are beginning to see my relief,” Malo said dryly, “that you Iudex are here to work your magic.”

I pondered how to move forward. “The only two places Sujedo went during his time here were to the bank and to his lodgings. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“And what business did he do at the bank?”

“Stowed away some papers in a safe,” she said. “I had the Treasury clerks there pull it. It was his orders, along with sheets of numbers. Tax things. Nothing particularly interesting.”

I dabbed at my mouth with a handkerchief, hoping my pallor hid my dismay. It was one thing to be dropped into such a location to work with bare pieces of a body, yet the more I learned about this murder, the less trail there seemed to follow. How strange it felt to be presented with a death so puzzling, and yet also so utterly blank. Yet I would have to rummage up something to report on before Ana arrived, or I’d hear no end of it.

I sighed, then said, “I suppose you’d better take me to his lodgings, please.”

Chapter 3

Yarrowdale was a port town,gripping the Bay of Yarrow like a growth of barnacles about the curve of a cliff, then funneling south to cling to the Great Canals linking the bay to the River Asigis, and all the wealth of the Empire beyond. I had viewed many maps of the city during my trip here, engraving the layout in my mind. As we exited the ossuary and started off, I summoned them out of my memory.

The rambling sprawl mostly fell into three distinct pieces, moving from southeast to northwest along the side of the bay. At the southeast end was New Town, built by and for the many Iyalets of the Empire, for there they refined and shipped out countless priceless precursors and reagents through the canals. Northwest of that was Old Town, the original home of the Yarrow kings and their folk, though they had left that place long ago. And finally there was the High City, built in the ranges far northwest of that, where the current Yarrow king resided with all of his royal retinue, removed from the bustle of industry that now consumed the land of his ancestors.

The ossuary, being an Apoth facility, was situated in New Town, and as Malo and I passed through it the place seemed all cheerful, rambling roofs and rollicking movement, the damp lanes packed with tradesfolk and pack animals and imperial officers—mostly Apoths, going by the rivers of crimson cloaks surging about me. Tall, flowering fretvine buildings were piled up on either side of the street, the sea-facing sides blooming with bright green moss, like slices of toastlayered with a curiously green butter. A band of pipers and drummers played at a crossroads ahead, and danced merrily when tossed a talint.

It was much like many imperial cities I had seen in my service, in other words, yet every path sloped down to the north, toward the Bay of Yarrow. And though the bay was hidden from my view, the awareness of the ocean was all about me: the murmur of waves, the scent of salt and seaweed on the air, and the hot, rumbling winds that came coursing down from the east.

I shuddered as we walked. It had been over a year since I’d ventured this close to the sea. Even though these waters were different from those in the East, I wished to look away from them.

“Something wrong?” asked Malo.

“I don’t much like the sea,” I muttered. “Nor being so close to it.”

“Ahh. You are a true imperial, then, eh?” she said.

I shot a glare at her and wiped my brow. “And you are not?”

“I am Yarrow, born and raised,” she said. She waved at the jungle-draped hills about us. “For better or worse. But do not fret yourself. Though we’re seaside and the wet season approaches, we’ve not had a living leviathan in Yarrowdale since before memory.”

I suppressed another shudder, now at one word of hers in particular:living.

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