Page 87 of A Trade of Blood

“Tomorrow the winds will be coming from the north, though.”

“So?” demanded Ana.

Tauri opened his mouth. Then he shut it, nodded, and said, “I will prepare to depart, then,” and swiftly walked away.

—

I guided Anaback to the Green Drover just as dawn began to bleed through the eastern skies. She was so lost in contemplationthat I didn’t dare speak once, even though the past hours had put many thoughts in my mind.

“I feel as if we are on the cusp of progress now, Din,” she muttered. “But the day has been so long and so mad, I can’t quite tell!”

I agreed, my thoughts lingering on Tauri’s sudden, strange reluctance to venture to the sepulcher.

“I know I can make little progress with Burav’s vault,” she continued. “I can’t begin to imagine which one of the fucking 810,000 combinations could possibly satisfy it! And I’ve no idea what the bastard meant by puttingBrilliance is forever fecundat the top of his idiotic little door. I swear, it is as if he mocks us from the beyond!” She raised a finger. “Though I did mean to ask Tauri about one of the symbols on the tumblers. I am sure the numeral1is all wrong! In conventional imperial standard numerology, you see, the digit1has a serif at the top and a horizontal line at the bottom. This lacks both—it isjusta simple vertical line!”

“Ahh. So?”

“Well! The7as depicted upon the tumbler stillhasthe standard slanted line at the top left tip! And the4also has a little swishy bit at the end of its horizontal stroke—alsocommon to imperial standard! And yet!” she said, viciously triumphant. “The digit1on the tumblers istotally nude! It is abare one!”

I found myself too tired to attempt to hide my exhaustion. “Ma’am—what does that mean?”

“I’ve no idea! Why would Burav choose such a depiction of the numeral for his door? It frustrates me.” She paused before the tavern’s door, her blindfolded head turned to the misty, muddy streets. “But I admit, I am not surprised that you saw no pipe-player about the jail, Din.”

“No?”

“No. Recall now the note at the bottom of the tune forLYSIS.”

I nodded glumly. “Yes.Not immediate.”

“Indeed! The catalyzation of the fungus must take time. One could play it, and the victim wouldn’t die for minutes, or even hours.So I must ask—did youseethe movements of Commander Tauri after he left my chambers?”

I paused. “No, ma’am. Why? Do you truly worry about him, of all people?”

“He knows more of the web than anyone save the dead Burav. And he has often voiced a hatred of the cattle trade. So yes. I worry about him. But…” She sighed. “The tune could have been played by anyone hanging about the jail at any time before we came. It all galls me terribly! Why go out of your way to kill Castus? Hadn’t he been destroyed enough? What gain is there, save simple vindictiveness?” She turned her blindfolded head to me. “Regardless, Din…I would advise against getting…involvedwith Commander Tauri.”

I looked at her sidelong. “I would not get involved with an officer in an ongoing investigation, ma’am.”

“That is not quite what I meant. You should not get involved with him atanytime. Tauri is too important, and too clever. Such people see quite a lot. Even through your oft-expressionless face, Din. And don’t we have ourownsecrets to protect?”

I said nothing. I felt sweat crawling across my belly in the damp.

“Good night, Din,” Ana said, and climbed the stairs to her chambers.

IV

The Rot in All Our Hearts

Chapter 23

The dawn sun found mesitting in the back of an open cart, surrounded by Orbiis officers as we trundled east toward the Armenta lands. A soft rain began to fall, and the Orbiis all grew excited, opening their mouths and allowing the drops to come tumbling in. Some swilled the drops about like they were the dribblings of fine wine, then whispered to one another, discussing its flavorings and age. Others sat cupping their hands and peering at the waters in their palms, tilting the tiny droplets back and forth as if they could read the future within them.

“They are reading the winds,” said Tauri dully besideme.

“Beg pardon, sir?”

“Rain is first formed around particulates in the atmosphere, Signum. Dust, mostly. The dust is pulled up from the lands and cast high into the skies, where it catches the humidity and turns into raindrops, bit by bit. By tasting and reading the rain, you can read the highest winds, and the shape of all the earth beyond.” He studied a pearly raindrop on the tip of his finger with a sad eye, then placed it against his bare tongue. “This batch of rain comes from a very distant stretch of land. Across the sea, in fact.”

“Truly?” I said, surprised. I knew little of lands across the sea, save that they existed, were very strange, and were entirely empty of people.