Page 91 of A Drop of Corruption

Darhi and Pavitar had obviously not anticipated this: Pavitar’s mouth fell open and his face turned a dull pink, while Darhi’s green-painted brow wrinkled ever so slightly.

“In the…the reliquary, Your Majesty?” said Pavitar.

“Indeed,” said the prince.

“But we have never let an imperial enter such a sacred space before. Not in all our—”

“Still, that is my wish,” said the prince. “For neither have we had a king fall to poison in this hall. These are strange times. I must have their honesty, and there are many ears at court. In the reliquary, I can have silence.”

The prince looked very hard at me. I nodded in response, signaling my comprehension.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” said Ana, bowing once more—though I noted that a tremendous grin split her face at the bottom. “I am honored that you would grace us with such intimacy.”

“Then come, Immunis,” said the prince. He offered Ana his arm. “I shall take you to the reliquary myself.” She took it, bowing once more, and he turned and led us across the great hall, leaving the two advisers behind.

Pavitar stormed off to angrily speak with a group of elderly-looking gentlemen in elegant, black coats and caps. Satrap Darhi I lost almost immediately, his movements obscured as the servants and nobles of the smoky hall stirred about us. I assumed he had vanished to join his own supporters, wherever they might be.

It was as I followed the prince through one set of doors that I felt a plucking at my arm, slowing me. I turned to find that Satrap Darhi had silently reappeared beside me, gliding along at a gentle, serene pace.

“How fare you this day, Signum Kol?” he asked softly.

“Ah—well, sir,” I said. “But I do recall, the prince did ask us to visit with him alone…”

“True,” said Darhi. “But it is a long walk to the reliquary, and I wished to inquire about you. These were treacherous times before and are even more treacherous now. Tell me—do you still carry the favor I gave you?”

I slid the oathcoin from my pocket, and his eyes lit up at the sight of it.

“Ah,” said Darhi. “Very wise of you to bring it! I shall do all the prince asks to aid you, of course, but…if there is anyadditionalservice I can provide, you need only ask.”

“What service might you suggest, sir?”

“Well, both I and the Empire want the same thing, of course—apeaceful transition, with no bloodshed or sorrow. What hazardous days we live in! Keep the coin, Signum. Remember it well. And call on me should you ever need anything.”

Then he bowed, and left me to catch up to Ana, Malo, and the prince. When I glanced back at the smoky passageway, he was gone.

Chapter 34

The prince led us througha narrow, dark, wind-ing passageway. When we finally came to a set of enormous oaken doors, he turned to study us, seeming to debate something. Then he steeled himself, opened the doors, and led us inside.

The chamber within was a tall, circular space, almost akin to a chimney, rising until it opened onto the sky. It featured no other windows, but it did possess three doors, facing west, east, and south. Tiny cubbies were set along the rounded walls, and standing inside them were totems of past kings, wrought of stone. Each one was frowning and bearded, much like those on the exterior of the great hall itself. I was almost reminded of a scribe-hawk’s roost, with tiny stone figures in place of birds.

Yet it was the table in the center of the chamber that caught the eye most. It was a long and heavy thing, and upon it was a tremendous mound of flower blossoms of pale white; and there, placed at the mound’s peak like a child upon a stack of pillows, was the body of a man.

He was an ancient creature, swaddled in fur robes atop the mound of pale blossoms, with a golden circlet set winking atop his lined brow, and a braided, graying beard cast across his chest. He seemed small to me, and his face was so long and drawn it was nearly fleshless. It had not been death that had shriveled him so, surely: he had been terribly elderly in life, and had lived his last days a withered creature.

The prince shut the doors and walked to block our view of the dead king. “Pavitar spoke truth,” he said. “We have never admitted imperials to this chamber before. But I shall permit you to stay here…provided you can show your honesty.”

I turned to Malo and said, “Three doors here. Anyone eavesdropping behind them?”

Malo cocked her head, listening, then narrowed her eyes at the one we’d just passed through. Then she shook her head. “We are alone.”

I reached into my coat, slid out the message the prince had sent to us, and handed it to him.

Prince Camak read it, then took a deep, relieved sigh. “Asimana da dhanivahda…Thank the fates!” His regal demeanor dissolved before our eyes: he pressed a hand to his chest and sat down on the marble floor, breathing hard as if in a panic. I noticed that his teeth were even worse than Darhi’s and Pavitar’s, and were as black as tar. “I apologize, I…I had no idea if you’d come on my accord or your own! What a relief it is, to be free with someone here. This is the only place in all the High City where I am left truly alone. Now—you must tell me who this murderer is, and where we can find him, and end this nightmare!”

A rare look of discomfort fluttered across Ana’s pale features. “Mm. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?”

The prince stood, noticing her hesitation. “Did I not read your letter correctly? You wrote to Kardas saying you knew of a smuggler operating here in the High City, who intended to kill with poison, true? And that is exactly what happened. And the Treasury folk said you have a genius skill with such things! One that defies belief!” A tone of desperation crept into his voice. “Surely you can just tell my court who he is, and have him fished out, and, I don’t know, tortured to confession—true?”