Page 109 of A Trade of Blood

I watched his shoulders and back. He was not moving at all, in fact.

My eye lingered on the tiny knife. Its edge shone redly.

“Kol…” said Tauri slowly.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I know.”

I took careful steps down to where he sat at the edge of the well. As I did so, I saw the pool within and understood.

The pool directly below him was not dry but was spattered with dark blood, which washed up the walls just below his body. I followed the trail of blood up to his body until it led to his wrists, which he had cut quite expertly, following the length of the veins rather than slashing across them. From the dispersal of the bloods about him he had then simply sat there once they were cut, hands in his lap, allowing his life to drain out of him and fill the fountain below. His eyes stayed open, however, and there was just a hint of life to them still.

The hint was an illusion: when I touched his shoulder ever so slightly, he tumbled back and lay still.

We all silently stood about the corpse of Jalin Burav. Then Tauri pulled out a wheel of testing parchment, ripped off a shred, knelt, gingerly placed it to Jalin’s lips, and held it to the light. The paper remained a soft green color.

“He is clear,” said Tauri quietly. “He does not have the web in him.”

“So this was done of his own will?” I said.

“Do you see signs of a struggle? I don’t.”

I gazed at Jalin Burav’s eyes, which now stared at the purple canopies aboveus.

My memories quaked within me, and I recalled his words:You should kill me. I am but flesh. And what else do we do with flesh in this cursed place?

“Let’s search the area,” I said hoarsely. “Carefully.”

—

Searching the areaabout the fountain quickly proved absurd, for Burilis Burav had only defoliated a few dozen span past the edge.Besides the fountain, Jalin’s body, and the barren ground, there was nothing—except, there at the very corner by the trees, a small cabin.

The cabin appeared to be decades old at least. Much of it was crumbling, and its half-broken roof had collected so many purple leaves that it almost threatened to collapse. Yet within it was somewhat cleaned and arranged, as if someone had recently dwelt here and tidied it up. There was a set of shelves, a small workbench, and a metal stove, complete with a pipe chimney that poked past the roof. One only needed to glance at the dusty, glittering vials on the workbench to realize its purpose.

“An Apoth laboratory,” I said.

“Yes,” said Tauri, leaning into the small cabin. “A remarkably rudimentary workspace, but one efficient enough to do what Burav needed, so many years ago.”

“Which was?”

Tauri plucked up one vial, squinted at it, and confirmed that its innards swirled with cloudy water. He uncorked it and poked a slender strip of testing parchment down until it touched the fluid—where it instantly turned orange.

“To make his version of the web, of course,” said Tauri. “Please search this place thoroughly, Kol. I’ve a theory I want to test…” Then he slipped out and made for the fountain.

I did as he bade and searched the tiny laboratory carefully. I found not only the tools necessary for reagent-brewing, but also picks, shovels, and axes stuffed into one corner. What he had planned to dig at, however, I had no idea.

Then my gaze fell across a bundle in the corner of the shelf, wrapped in waxen cloth and leathers. I knelt and slid it out, then carefully unfoldedit.

It contained a book, bound in leather. Its front and spine were unmarked, but when I opened it, I read on the first page in clear, bold handwriting:Accounts of the nature and modifications of the qaytatin tuman.

I peered at the date of the first page:12th of the month of Jarat, 1099.

I blinked for a moment, doing the math in my mind and summoning my memories.

That was thirty-one years ago now. Burilis Burav himself would have been thirty-two at the time.

“Damn,” I said softly. Then, louder: “It’s his journal!”

“Pardon, sir?” said the Orbiis officer at the door.