His nails ceased their tattoo. “It is not over,” he hissed, and I feared our interview was about to erupt into violence. But his break in composure was momentary, and so swift that I could barely be certain it had even happened. His claws resumed their cadence, and for a time all that could be heard was their echo against the shadowy fastness of the chamber. “Another child has been found. A terrible development. Already your fellows call for vengeance against the heretics. Already they call for reprisals.”
I focused on looking inscrutable. The heretics are a useful target for the round eyes, but the threat of their abuse is part of what keeps Ling Chi’s people in line. What was he moaning about?
Ling Chi beckoned to his attendant, who brought the pipe over a second time. He put his lips to the stem, then spewed out an impressive cloud of the dank vapor. “I was terribly concerned for my intimate’s safety today.”
“It flatters me that one so exalted would consider my well-being worthy of notice.”
“This morning I was informed by a wandering eye that my friend was arrested by agents of the Crown.” He clicked his tongue in a fashion meant to be taken as sorrowful-it was grotesque and unnatural, like a she wolf suckling a newborn. “Terrible was the despair in my household. I ordered my servants to dress themselves in white and to begin the forty days of mourning prescribed for the death of an esteemed companion.” He hung his head between his shoulders in feigned bereavement, observing a theoretical moment of silence.
“Then something extraordinary happened!” A smile appeared on his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I received another message. My ally had exited the house of justice! Great was the joy with which the news of my brother’s survival was received! I ordered strings of burning chrysanthemums to be set off and a black rooster slaughtered in his honor.” He cocked his head contemplatively. “But in the midst of my unadulterated happiness, I could not divest myself of the pangs of curiosity. For though I have heard tell of many men being taken into the rooms beneath Black House, word has never reached my ears of one being allowed to leave.”
“The visit from my former employers was a surprise, as was my release. Terrible are the workings of a government out of harmony with the heavens.”
“Former employers…”
“The delicacy of my associate’s hearing is matched only by the perfection of his understanding.”
“Cunning are the servants of your Queen, unknowable their objectives. Great must be the concern of any who find themselves tangled in the intrigues of Black House.”
The pieces clicked together and I finally realized the purpose of this interminable interrogation. He thought the Old Man moved against him, that the dead Kiren was his opening gambit, that I had been drafted into it and my arrest was a cover for a meeting. The impossibility of such a scheme would provide little defense against the blades of Ling Chi’s underlings should he decide to act on his suspicions. “What concern could honest citizens have for the doings of the lawful authorities, clouded though their sight may be?”
“I am certain my brother has the truth of it. And yet… I am a simple man,” he said, pausing to give the absurdity time to diffuse amid the smoke. “So I speak to my revered brethren plainly. I do not know what trouble afflicts Low Town-but I cannot help but observe that since my associate’s intrusion the round eyes howl for the blood of my kinsmen, and Black House sniffs about my home.”
There was no point in arguing further. “The words of my honorable ally are water on parched earth.”
He closed his eyes and put his hand to his brow, his skills sufficient to carry the theatrics. “Truly, the concerns of parentage weigh heavy on my brow. Many are the days when I wonder how I shall carry on. Many are the nights that I wish for the Emperor to call me to his side. I take solace only in the knowledge that my ally offers aid to my feeble body, and comfort to my senescent mind.”
“I watch after my mentor with vision that never clouds.”
“And I would expect nothing less from so stalwart a friend. The goods are at the bar, and I will provide a quarter discount in exchange for the precious moments my brother has given me. As for the other matters…” He leaned his body forward in such a fashion as to allow the girl below to continue massaging his foot. “Remember what I said. I have no wish to antagonize Black House, but they cannot operate in my territory. I will be forced to meet any interference in a fashion”-he smiled, an ugly thing, jet-black teeth sharp even in the gloom-“most unfriendly.”
I left Ling Chi’s den as rapidly as decorum would allow. The whole thing was too much, the smoke so thick in my lungs I thought I might vomit. At the bar the fat man handed me my package without a shift of his dead eyes. I headed out the door without looking back.
By the time I made it back to the Earl, the dinner rush was in full swing. I took a free spot at the bar and managed to break Adolphus away from his role as host long enough to call for a plate of food and something dark to sit on top of it. It was warm, and the press of bodies and the loud hum of vitality were having a lethargic effect. I rubbed my forehead and tried to keep myself awake.
Adeline came in from the back, a dish of meat and potatoes in one hand and a pull of good strong stout in the other. “Thanks,” I said.
She nodded pleasantly. “Where’s Wren?”
“He took off. Said he had something he wanted to take care of.”
For all that I could trade half-truths and outright fabrications with the most dangerous Kiren in Rigus, I seemed utterly incapable of sliding a falsehood past Adeline’s plump face. “You chased him off, didn’t you?”
“We had a disagreement about the relative merits of property rights. He’ll be back eventually.”
She puffed herself up to something substantially larger than her diminutive span. “Eventually,” she repeated, not a question so much as a condemnation.
“Lay off it, Adeline. He’s been sleeping on the street for most of his life. Another night won’t matter.”
“And the child who was killed this morning?”
“Wren ain’t my kid, Adeline, and he ain’t yours neither. Better you don’t get too attached-he’s likely to bite your hand in the end.”
“You unbelievable little shit,” she said, then whirled and headed back to the kitchen, as if she didn’t trust herself to be around me any longer.
“Yeah,” I said to no one in particular. “Probably.”
I tore through my chop steak and tried to force the pieces floating around my skull into a coherent picture. It wasn’t working. I could see Beaconfield as corrupt, venal, and sadistic-hell, I had settled on those three before I had even met him. But this didn’t fit. There weren’t many crimes that could disturb the position of a noble of the blood, but summoning a creature from the void, and using it to sacrifice children-that was one of them. If the Blade was caught, his name wouldn’t be enough to save him. He’d swing or swallow a draft of arsenic while awaiting trial. No doubt he had spent most of his life swimming in the noisome waters of court, trying to one-up his rivals with cheap intrigue and the occasional act of violence, but these were the common hobbies of the upper class, like adolescents and dry humping. The aristocracy are too comfortable with what they have to put it all in the pot-that’s what makes them easy to play. What could he be aiming for that warranted running such terrible risks?
And if Beaconfield wasn’t involved, why had Celia’s talisman singed a hole halfway through my breast during our conversation? Was the duke damning his soul in some endeavor entirely unrelated to the one I was investigating?
Maybe Ling Chi was right, and this was all an elaborate setup by the Old Man to try and break a potential threat to his power. But that didn’t add up either. I had no illusions about my former boss, but unleashing this abomination on the people of Low Town was an awful lot of trouble to go through just to crush a mid-level clique, even one run by someone as vicious as my revered brother. And if he had needed a life to snuff, he wouldn’t have had to go through all the trouble of snatching a child-he’d just walk into the dungeons and pick a motherfucker to disappear. Besides, the Old Man wouldn’t have been so foolish as to involve me in his operation-if he had set this ball of twine rolling, he wouldn’t want me following its trail.
Maybe Ling Chi was pulling the strings, and the interview had been a ruse to throw me off his scent. The only person I could say for sure was involved in this whole thing had been a Kiren, and I’d heard plenty of rumors about the dark arts of the heretics, though in the past I’d chalked this up to general racial antipathy. Maybe it was another syndicate, or a player at court-hell, maybe it was some fiendish retaliation by the Dren.
I downed the dregs of my ale and tried to get my head right. There was too much chaff in the air, and I couldn’t get a clear picture of the game, let alone the players. I’d been better at this, once, but I was long out of practice-being a successful criminal doesn’t require quite the same skill set as catching one. Nor did I suppose that a half decade of dipping into my stock had done wonders for my powers of deduction. Maybe Crispin was right, and
