Page 115 of A Trade of Blood

I puzzled at that for a moment, but then recalled her words after she’d read his journals:Nocturnal hallucinations transpire within forty-eight hours after conditioning.

“Precisely two days…” I said softly.

“Yes. Unless I am mistaken—and I know that I amnot—it means that your conditioning occurred on the night that Castus Armenta sprouted. Hislysis,to use the clinical term. And who was about then?”

I swallowed. “Commander Tauri.”

“Oh, yes. Rushed about to clean up what was left of Castus! And that is but a few minutes’ walk from your chambers at the Green Drover, true?”

“But…but why would he be helping us now if—”

“Heappearsto help us now.” She grimaced. “And there are other candidates. Ones, perhaps, now more likely than he. But I gave you that order for many reasons, boy! He is too important, and much too clever! Even if he is innocent, I do not wish him too involved!”

“Should I be dismissed, ma’am? Or recused from the investigation?”

“Oh, probably,” said Ana. “Or I would if I had anyone else of fucking use about! But as kindly a soul as Seriv might be, he is not the fellow of the moment. So I shall have to keep you on.”

“Even though…though I am infected, ma’am?”

“Yes.”

“And conditioned?”

“Yes.”

“But—isn’t that terribly unwise?”

“Not particularly,” said Ana. “Recall, boy, that this fungus infects the brain. Butyourbrain isn’t exactly normal—for it bears the countless alterations of the Imperial fucking Sublimes! You are now sogreatly augmented that you don’t even quite count ashumananymore, Dinios Kol. Which means that the fungus doesn’t quite work on your species, so to speak.” She leaned forward. “But it is more than that. Not just that you’re a Sublime, but whattypeof Sublime. You are an engraver—and the guiding web, of course, works usingmemories.I believe it associates the memory of an action with a tone, and when the tone is played, it delivers the host backintothat memory and forces them to reenact the action, granting them a sense of profound joy when they do so. This is why the infected dream of such things—because the memory is floating to the surface of their subconscious, overriding their thoughts. But your brain is augmented to parse and store memories perfectly! It is capable of identifying when you are being artificially forced back into the past! And in this instance, it didnotlike it.”

I said nothing. My thoughts dwelt not on the horror of being infected and conditioned but rather the figure I’d glimpsed in the dream, hazy and shadowy as they sat on the bed.

“I thought,” I said slowly, “that my memories almost had a…a voice. Aface.”

“Ah!” said Ana. “That is not uncommon. Some engravers experience a sense of imbued personification as their abilities advance—literally, the objects around them seem to speak, voicing memories. Others aggregate the memories entirely, giving them a figure, a personality. Often someone they are familiar with. Who was it?”

I said nothing.

“I shall not pry,” she said. “But I think this knowledge is a weapon, Din, at least for now. You are not immune, child, but you areterriblyresistant. That is a good thing. Let us now focus on the great misstep our killer made, choosing to practice their arts on my own goddamned assistant. I shall put them through the flensing halls for that!”

—

Toward midday,Seriv and Tauri returned, both looking sweaty and distraught.

“It’s exactly as you said, Dolabra,” said Tauri. “The wells of both the Crooked Horn and the Prancing Calf are poisoned. As is the well of this very tavern—Iasked my folk to confirm that one, too…”

Seriv shot an alarmed glance at the ewer sitting beside Ana.

“Thank you,” said Ana, oblivious. “And what of all the adjoining wells?”

“They’re all clear. Not a drop of fungus in them. These wells were poisoned with great intent, then.”

“Yes…” said Ana, leaning back a little. “That is how it was done, you see. For as you said, Commander Tauri, the fungus is not a conventional poison. It is not something you can drop into a mug of wine, for example. It must deeply infest a water source, and then it must build up in the human system until it finally infects the mind. Wiser, then, tobringpeople to the infected place, and have them stay there regularly—drinking the water, eating the food—until it accumulates to a tipping point. As high gentry, the Armentas would regularly come to the city to socialize, conduct business, and be merry—never knowing that the waters of these specific inns were infested! They became infected, as well, of course. Including Ippeas Armenta! But not Din’s sister, Fotia Kol. She was but a drover, and stayed most often with her herds. Thus the killer put the fungus in all the right people, and let it sleep for weeks if not months, until they played the awakening tones, and began their conditioning…” She steepled her fingers and rested her brow on their tips. “Through these steps, they played their game.”

“Ingenious,” said Tauri quietly.

“And horrible,” said Seriv.

“Yes. What a great suffering has been brought about in these lands,” she murmured. “But then, there has always been great suffering in Lacanthim, true? Yet inflicted on cattle and cats, not people. Now it is our turn to taste the knife.”