Page 156 of A Drop of Corruption

“Well,” I said slowly. “It seems the Usini Lending Group has nearly collapsed, ma’am…”

“Ah! Has it?”

“Yes. And…I cannot help but feel that your hand is in that somewhere, ma’am.”

“Me?” she said archly. “Oh,Idid nothing, Din.”

“Somehow I find that difficult to believe, ma’am.”

“What could I do, for I was here in Yarrowdale the entire time! But…” Her grin broadened. “I will admit that there were many within the Iudex who have been lookingvery hardat the Usini Lending Group for some time. Lots of rumors about abruptly renegotiating agreements and harassing our officers, and so on…When you reported to me that you had experienced the same, well. I simply sent a few letters. A nudge, as it were, in the right direction.”

“But why? You wished me to stay, didn’t you? To turn away from the Legion, and remain your investigator?”

“Well, I promised youtworevelations, boy,” she said. “For one of them, you could not comprehend it if there were obstacles before your choice. I have removed them, so you may now choose freely andhonestly. But, before I hear your choice, I must ask, Din…what does the ocean look like?” She flicked a hand at the sea before her. “Describe the sight for me. For I fear I shall never be so close to the sea again.”

I eyed the endless, blank horizon. From here I could turn my head from side to side and see no works of humankind, save the Shroud, nor any speck of soil or stone. “It is rather…flat, ma’am.”

“Flat? Is that the fullest extent of your poetic capacities?”

“I have no other word for it,” I sighed. “It is enormous, and flat, and empty. And though I know it moves, the farther I look, the less movement I see.”

“Ah,” she said softly. “And yet we know it moves, in manners both huge and hidden, far beneath its surface. And we know, of course, what swims in its deeps.”

A tremor in my belly. I looked down at the steady ground beneathme.

“It is good to place oneself before the vast expanse of this world,” said Ana. “The ocean cannot tell the difference between a rich man and a poor one, nor one full of happiness, or despair. To those waves, all are so terribly small.”

“Being an imperial from the Outer Rim,” I said, “I need little help in feeling such a thing, ma’am.”

“A good point.” She cocked her head. “Hm…it all makes me wonder—perhaps that is why we invented them in the first place.”

“Them?”

“Kings, of course. Perhaps we wished to make the ancient and divine mortal, to render the infinite in flesh and form. How reassuring that would be! And yet, a fool’s game, as we have so thoroughly learned here. Our emperor wisely sleeps in his Sanctum, still and silent, hardly more than a spirit. We need no more kingly stuff than that! Not from the emperor, nor the kings of Yarrow…” She slowly turned her blindfolded face to me. “Nor anyone else.”

I studied her and felt countless meanings hidden in these words. It was like so many great imperial things: so much was mystery, while the rest was politely unspeakable.

“How do you mean, ma’am?” I asked quietly.

“I mean, the Empire has granted our folk many blessings, Din,” she purred. “Blessings of the flesh, the mind, the spirit. Any of these blessings might lead one to imagine that they are of regal element. And that is why we must have a watchman among us, to ensure that these folk never forget the truth.”

“What truth?”

“That though a person’s mind may be shaped differently, their hearts and souls are all too human. That makes them strong—but it also makes them weak. And petty. And predictable.” She flourished a hand, like an actor performing a monologue. “I simply wonder—who shall that watchman be?”

Finally I could bear it no more. “Ohh, enough!” I said. “You can stop your lecturing, Ana.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You know what choice I’ve made. You knew it before you ever slept.” I turned back to the sea. “I shall not go to the East. I shall stay with you, ma’am, and continue on in this strange work.”

“Oh?” Ana said cautiously. “Truly? Why?”

“Because…what you said was true. I wish to keep an Empire worth defending.” I eyed the rooftops of Yarrowdale, tiny and cheerful where they clung to the shore. “After all we saw here, that feels a hard fight. Perhaps even harder than what one might see at the sea walls. Though it does come with a sight less glory. That was the first of your revelations, yes?”

“True enough,” she admitted. “You are a quick pupil. But I wonder…what would the person you left in Talagray think of this choice?”

I imagined him then: Kepheus, so tall and broad, yet always leaning crookedly against a wall or door, his shabby smile on his face, his eyes so understanding. It was he who’d spoken to me of service most of all, there in Talagray, yet only now, after I had been so long apart from him, had I come to truly comprehend it.