Page 52 of A Drop of Corruption

“That? No. That was all shit and got us nothing. But I have found somethingveryvaluable indeed. We talked to everyone who worked the canals, everyone we could find. We heard nothing—until we came upon an old fisherman, who told us a story. One day, just before the tenth of Hajnal, this fisherman is down in the reeds with his nets, seeking a juicy prize, when he looks up…and he sees a boat coming down the stream.”

“All right…?”

“In that boat is five men. Four of them are very dirty and dressed like the jungle folk—armed, carrying bows. But the fifth man…he is very strange. For he is dressed all in Treasury white. And he has a clothbagover his head, as if he does not wish for anyone to see his face.”

I frowned, pondering this. “The impostor, wearing Sujedo’s uniform, before he robbed the bank?”

“We thought the same.”

“Why hide his face?”

“I do not know. It all seems mad. The fisherman was deep in the reeds, so they did not see him. He watched as they took their boat northeast, to here, to the city. We found him, asked him to show us on a map where this was, and he did so. And can you believe it? This spot isjust northof an old smuggler’s camp, one we ourselves have raided many times. Comes alive every few months. We are thinking—what if it is alive again?”

My mind began racing like I’d taken a suck from the Apoths’ percolator.

“And what if that’s where Sujedo was taken and killed,” I said quietly, “and what if the impostor is still there?”

“Exactly. So I have a question for you, Kol.” Malo’s smile grew wide. “You ever been on a warden raid before?”

—

“What!” squawked Ana.“You want to go on some kind of goddamned boat ride down some god-awful river?”

I shook water off my straw cone hat as I leaned against her bedroom door. “I think it’ll be decidedly less pleasant than you make it sound, ma’am, but that’s the spill of it.”

Ana grumbled for a moment, then glared around at the collage of theft reports she’d stuck to nearly every surface in her room. “How many people have you checked on from the list of people with access to that safe?”

“Thirty-nine.”

“Thirty-nine of forty-three?”

I spied a little black beetle crawling up my hat’s brim and flicked it off. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And theyallhad verifiable alibis?”

“They did. I’ve found not a hint of anything useful.”

She screwed up her face and grumbled some more. “We’re looking in the wrong damned place. But I can’t for the life of me discern what therightplace is yet. I feel it’s close, like a bubble in my brain…something Thelenai said, but I can’t recall what.” She grabbed her lyres—she had rather cunningly attached the two together with a set of wires and screws—and began to pluck a moody melody. “The hell with it. Perhaps a muddy stretch of swamp is a better place to go snooping than about here. How long will you be gone?”

“Two to three days, ma’am.”

“Then you may go. Have the Apoth quartermaster send me food, three chamber pots, and enough quiridine pellets to soak up the stench.” Another melancholic chord. “I’ll let you empty them when you return. I’d normally try to do it myself blindfolded, but after Idumped one out on that woman’s pet bird, I’ve made a rule to avoid it. But, Din…when you go out there, be careful, please.”

“Why the concern? I won’t be alone.”

“Yes, yes. Just remember—this is a man so cautious that he does not leave asingle hairbehind. I cannot yet guess at his nature, but he may be capable of far worse things than we can yet imagine.” She plucked one last mournful chord. “So move slow, and carefully. And bring your sword. You may make use of it.”

Chapter 21

I arrived at the riverfrontdocks early the next morning. Our boat was a long, narrow thing, with high armored walls on either side, and nine seakips harnessed to its bow. The doughy little creatures rolled over languidly in the brown water as the boat was loaded, their translucent whiskers twitching as they snuffed. I crouched at the edge of the pier and extended a hand to one. It surfaced and sniffed at my fingers, blinking its big, black, soulful eyes at me, before it realized I had no food and dove back down.

“Don’t get too attached,” said Malo’s voice.

I turned to see her walking down the pier to me, an enormous pack tossed over her shoulders.

“If the smugglers ambush us,” she said, “they shall kill our steeds first and leave us floating.”

“What do we do if that happens?” I asked.