Page 25 of A Trade of Blood

“Might be a potential victim?” said Ana archly. “Might have an infection in yourbrainconditioning you for murder and death?” A tiny shrug. “It is perfectly possible!”

“Oh, hell,” whispered Seriv.

“You are apprehending the shitpot we are currently bubbling in, Princeps! Wemustcatch up, yet we must practice the utmost secrecywhile we do so! I could request records from the Apoth authorities, but scribe-hawks take days if not weeks…” She cocked her head. “But we may have a local resource we can trust! Seriv—Din here told me you’d briefly mentioned theOrbiisto him when talking about the old forest?”

Seriv and I exchanged a worried glance.

“The…Orbiis, ma’am?” I said slowly. “You wish to bring this to them?”

“I do not wish to!” she said with a sniff. “But I see no other option.”

Seriv looked at me as if to say—Is this another jest?I could only manage a shrug in response.

The Orbiis—or “leaf-sniffers,” as they were often mockingly called—were the imperial department tasked with maintaining the stability of all agricultural lands. While this was a noble duty, it was accompanied by enhancements that made them far more eccentric than the typical Imperial Iyalet: namely, a desire to taste soil, leaf, and bark. Yet all their odd habits did not detract from their authority: when the Orbiis made a ruling, they were listenedto.

Still, I balked at the idea of involving the Orbiis in a murder investigation, especially one that concerned the gentry. It made as much sense as putting a mad poet in charge of defending the sea walls.

“You sure it’s wise to involve the soil-tongues in this, ma’am?” said Seriv dubiously.

“Well, consider it!” said Ana. “The Orbiis are most assuredly less likely to be caught up in the petty squabbles of the gentry—they care more for root and loam than they do politics—but they are also masters of all that grows and thrives in this land, true?Includingthe guiding web?”

“They surely know much of the web, ma’am,” conceded Seriv, “for it’s well-known that they despise it. Something about using neuro-fungi in everyday farming practices being unwise…”

Ana laughed cruelly. “They may soon prove correct there! Yes, Ilike the sound of this! We are quite desperate for allies in this fight…and I would welcome the Orbiis’ assistance. Specifically with the corpse.”

There was a silence.

“I take it,” I said, sighing, “you are not going to release Zansay’s body to her father, ma’am.”

“Oh,hellno, I shall not!” said Ana. “Not if her fucking head is swilling with fungus! The Orbiis officers are well accustomed with the maladies of livestock. I am sure they can manage a dead gentrygirl easily enough.”

“You intend to have the Orbiis…perform anautopsyon Zansay Burav?” asked Seriv, appalled. “I mean, they autopsy sick calves and the like, but…but toher,of all people…”

“I don’t trust any of the medikkers here,” snapped Ana, “as they’ll have allegiance to one house or another. And we know that this strain of fungus is different, for it apparently infects humans! We need to get a grasp on it, and quickly. No, no—the Orbiis it is! What is the fastest way to get ahold of them, Princeps? And mind, I’ll not put words to parchment! We must be as secretive as possible.”

Seriv begrudgingly said, “That can be difficult, then, ma’am. The Orbiis patrol and survey the farmlands here regularly, but as, ah, their duty is to monitor the environment, that’s rather a wide spread to get lost in. But…if I make it a pressing issue, ma’am, I can have my people find them by midday tomorrow. And itisa pressing issue, to me, as I might have this damned thing living in my own skull. Yet I’ll have to tell something to Burilis Burav. He expects us to release his daughter’s body. If we say we plan to have her chopped up by the Orbiis like an ailing sow, I’ll have hell on my hands.”

“Blame it on me,” said Ana. “Decry me, complain of me, stall him. Zansay is a murder victim, and we do not need her father’s permission to perform an autopsy. But we cannot wait about to hear if the Orbiis consent to join us! We must keep moving—and attempt to determine whoelsethe killer has struck down.”

I nodded glumly. “The Armentas, ma’am?”

“Indeed,” sniffed Ana. “The Armentas have suffered two suicides and an apparent accident. Very sad—but also verystrange.I am forced to ask, Seriv—was there an investigation done for any of them?”

“Afraid not, ma’am. I only investigate when foul play is declared. And for such deaths as these…”

“Yes, yes,” muttered Ana. “They didn’t appear foul at all! This is a wicked tool indeed.”

While they contemplated this, I quietly nursed the fire in the stove back to life and began preparing a teapot. Seriv’s mustache danced as he sucked his lips. “Idid not investigate,” he said. “But…the head of the clan, Velona Armenta…she has. Repeatedly, and carefully.”

Ana turned to him. “Did she…” she murmured. “Why? Did she suspect something?”

“She wasn’t looking for signs of criminal activity, ma’am,” said Seriv. “But rather a…a moredivineintervention, if you catch my meaning.”

“Oh, hell,” muttered Ana. “She is a creature of faith, then?”

“Indeed, ma’am. Very fervent.”

“Mm. What pantheon in particular does the old bat think is punishing her?”