Page 136 of A Drop of Corruption

First we found four, then five, and then after some searching, we found the sixth crate of reagents, hidden in the back of one of the barns.

“That’s all of them, yes?” said Malo. “Your immunis said there weresixcrates missing of this fertilizer, true?”

“Six, yes,” I sighed, wiping my brow. “But let’s open them to confirm it.”

We did so, prying off the lids with spears taken from the dead Yarrow guards. Each of the six boxes contained wax-wrapped bundles of a deeply black, soil-like substance that smelled powerfully of rotten eggs.

“That’s it,” said Malo. She almost began to weep. “That’s it! That’s the damned stuff, it’s all here! Darhi surely didn’t know what he had, but he’s kept it out of Pyktis’s hands and brought us to it!”

My legs began to quake, and with a deep sigh, I sat down in the wet grass.

—

As the rushof combat drained out of me, the rest of the night passed in a torpid stupor. The wardens tended to thenaukari,sharing water and food and applying healing grafts. One warden went to a high hill to fire off a rocket for Yarrowdale to see; the rest of us went about opening the remainder of the crates to take inventory, yet we did so lazily, and without panic.

“You are decent with a sword, Kol,” said Malo. She grunted as she cracked open another crate. “Almost as good as I am with a bow.”

“Thank you,” I said politely.

“If only all fights were so courtly as to allow you to get so close,”she said, “and engage in single combat! Then you might actually be useful.”

I smirked, happy to hear her jibes again. “That was not single combat,” I said. “There were two of them, at least at the start.”

“Well, yes, after I shot one in the neck. You’d have had none at all if you’d just stayed low. But…” Then she trailed off, her face troubled.

“What is it?” I asked.

She glanced about. “I smell something…rotting.”

“So? There are over thirty corpses just a few span away.”

“Yes, but those corpses are freshly killed, and not yet rotting! I smell flesh that has been putrefying for some time. I could not smell it at first, because of the aromas of these reagents, but…something is dead here, Kol.”

Malo began to dart about the crates upon the litter, sniffing the air. Then she pointed to one—this one a large chest of Yarrow treasure—and a warden hurried over and pried the lid open. They peered down into the crate, and their expressions changed to utter shock.

I staggered to my feet, leaning on my own stolen spear. “What?” I said wearily. “What is it now?”

“Kol,” said Malo slowly. “Come and see this.”

“If it is ill news, can you at least give me a hint?”

“No! Just come and see!”

I limped over to them. The smell of rot was indeed terrible, and I covered my nose with my sweat-soaked shirt and peered inside the Yarrow chest.

A body lay within: the body of a man, lying on his side and bunched up like an infant in slumber. He was rather small and dressed in rags, but most notable was what was placed beside him.

A warding helm, painted white. In the faint light of the fading moon, it almost resembled a skull.

I gazed at the body of the little man, and the white-painted helm beside him, my pulse thudding in my ears.

“No,” I whispered.

“I know,” said Malo.

“It can’t be…”

“I know! Let’s get him out and look him over.”