Page 22 of A Drop of Corruption

“And it performed correctly for Sujedo?” I asked him.

“Of course. I remember, after all.”

I sniffed at my vial, anchoring this fact in my mind. “What was Sujedo’s business in the Iyalet vault, then?”

“After his death, the wardens requested I pull his box. It contained his orders concerning the king of Yarrow. Tax projections, mostly. Nothing terribly surprising, but nothing we might want circulating. He had good reason to store it.”

“It was stored in a regular safe?”

“No, not at all,” said Tufwa. “We used one of the Treasury officer boxes. I shall show you.”

He led us down a narrow stone passageway ending in a tall stonewood door reinforced with iron, with another balmleaf pad on the edge. Tufwa placed his hand upon the patch and kept it there for a good while; then we heard a click within the door, and it opened.

“This is the Iyalet vault,” he said, entering and gesturing about, “expressly for imperial use.”

We followed him in and were confronted with stacks upon stacks of wooden safes with complex locks, yet all of them bore the same patches of strange, fleshy balmleaf.

Tufwa gestured to one stack of safes in the corner, which were each adorned with the symbol of the Treasury: the coin set in the hexagon. “That is where Sujedo stored his materials,” he said. “Third box from the bottom. Such boxes are made to open solely for senior Treasury officers.”

I stooped to study it. “And he had no issue opening this one?”

“None. I pulled the box and placed it on the table here for him to open. He put his hand to the lock, and the box opened for him, and I left him alone to make his deposit. It was all quite simple enough.”

I turned, studying the cabinets and safes around me. There had to be dozens, all of varying sizes. I half wondered what it would be like to pop one open, grab the talints from within, and dump them on treacly Madam Poskit to pay off my father’s loans once and for all. A stupid thought, yet it gave me an idea.

“Sujedo was alone in here?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Tufwa. “I left him here to make his deposit, as is procedure.”

“How long was he inside?”

Again, a fluttering to his eyes. “Less than five minutes, I should say.”

“Did he touch or alter or open anything else?” I asked.

“We have not searched for that,” said Tufwa warily. “Opening the boxes of the other Iyalets is forbidden unless there is an emergency.”

“If you were to search, how might you do so?”

He pointed to the corner, where a very complex-looking set of scales were set upon a tall table. “These scales are to the highest Apoth code, meaning they can measure a single grain of salt. We would weigh each box, and if the weight of any has changed, we would summon the owner. If they do not come within the designated time, only then are we authorized to open it ourselves.”

“And you, being an engraver, remember the weight.”

“I do. But that, as I said, is only for emergencies.” He sniffed. “And I do not believe one has been declared yet.”

“The guard who accompanied him reported that Sujedo carried a bag with him, one about this large.” I showed him, mimicking Klaida’s movements exactly. “It sounded as if it were too large a bag for simple documents. Yet when Sujedo left, the bag was empty. So…what might he have deposited?”

“I cannot say,” said Tufwa slowly. “I do recall the bag, and recall its size…but I am not sure I’d say it held something beyond documents. This is the Treasury, after all. We manage quite alotof documents.”

I frowned, thinking and trying to ignore Tufwa’s impatient fluffing of his hair. “Please tell me of Sujedo’s appearance,” I said at last. “Height, weight—all of it.”

Tufwa did so, eyes fluttering. Sujedo had been a thin man, he told me, and small, with thick, curling black hair, and rather pale eyes that weren’t quite one color or another—gray eyes, perhaps. His skin had been gray, like that of all Sublimes and peoples who had undergone significant suffusions; he had been right-handed and had exhibitedfew scars, though little of his skin had been exposed to Tufwa’s gaze, of course.

“How tall was he?” I asked. “Can you show me exactly?” I grimaced, recalling Ana’s orders. “I mean—can you show me how tall he was compared to me?”

“I mean…I can? If it is necessary.” He stuck his arm out, eyes fluttering, and touched about halfway down my shoulder. “That tall.”

I nodded, feeling slightly humiliated. None of this was a surprise, really: the porter had said Sujedo had been short.