The Fire Seer and Her Quradum (14 page)

“Well, if I were the lucky recipient of that gold-leaf furniture, I’d throw it all in the river.”

“I don’t know,” said Mandir. “You might offend the Water Mother.”

“Where will your brothers go now that Tufan is dead?”

Mandir shook his head. “Wherever they want, I suppose. They can’t stay here; the food deliveries will stop. We can take Setsi and Nindar with us. The others will likely drift away. Some may find work, and others...won’t.”

“You’re saying they have no home now?”

“That’s right.”

Taya didn’t like most of Mandir’s brothers, but even so, she felt a little bit sorry for them. They knew nothing but this place and its horrors. They had few skills other than bullying, and they were half-caste mongrels. How would they survive in the outside world? She feared they’d turn to banditry. “Who haven’t we discussed yet? Ilinos.” She raised a sixth finger.

“Obviously a suspect after last night’s beating,” said Mandir. “And he could have been working with Shala. They seem to spend a lot of time together, doing chores around the house.”

“And then there’s the tutor.” Seven fingers.

Mandir nodded. “I know nothing about him except that he’s a drunk.”

“And the guards.” Since there were four of them, that brought the total to eleven. She was out of fingers, so she lowered her hands to the table.

“They have the best access to Tufan,” said Mandir. “They could have poisoned him easily, either all four of them working together, or one renegade working alone. Yanzu might be a little more difficult for them, and I’m not sure about motive.”

“And finally, Yanzu and Tufan themselves.” Which brought her total to thirteen.

Mandir gave her a quizzical look.

“I know it’s unlikely,” she said. “But what if each of them poisoned the other?”

Mandir shook his head. “Bizarre, but I suppose we can’t rule it out.”

In one sense, this murder case was simpler than the one they’d dealt with in Hrappa. There, they’d had an entire town full of suspects. Here in Tufan’s household, there were only thirteen, and that was if they included the guards. One of the people she’d just listed, or possibly more than one of them, was the killer. But motive would be of little use to them in this case. Tufan was a sufficiently odious man that nearly everyone wanted him dead, and Yanzu was no prize either.

Mandir sat down at the table. “Are you feeling any effects from the wine in Tufan’s room?”

“I’m not sure.” She hadn’t thought about it, so she took a moment to pay attention to her body. She felt all right. In fact, she felt
good
—unusually optimistic. Tufan was dead, which meant Setsi and Nindar should be free to go once the palace guards completed their investigation. This horrible place, the source of so much suffering to so many people, would be abandoned. It would rot away to nothingness, which was just what it deserved. She sat down across from Mandir.

“I think I’m feeling some effects,” said Mandir.

She raised her head. “Are you all right?”

“I believe I’ve ingested
nepenthe.
Have you ever had it?”

Taya shook her head. “It’s a rich man’s drug. You mentioned it in Tufan’s room—apparently he takes it with his gold dust?”

“It’s used for pain, which is why we don’t bother with it in the Coalition,” said Mandir. “We heal our injuries. Tufan keeps a supply of it for his arthritis and takes it every night—yes, in his gold dust. Are you sure you’re not feeling anything? I’d be surprised if Yanzu’s cup was poisoned and Tufan’s wasn’t.”

Perhaps she
was
feeling a bit strange. She felt warm, pleasantly so, and very relaxed, more so than a person should be during a high-stakes murder investigation. She leaned forward, checking Mandir’s eyes to see if his pupils had contracted the way Tufan’s and Shardali’s had.

“Are you checking my pupils?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He leaned forward to check hers. They stared into each other’s eyes.

“I really don’t see a difference,” Taya admitted. “But I think I might be feeling something. It’s subtle, but I feel relaxed and warm and...happier than I ought to be feeling.”

“I think you’ve had
nepenthe
,” said Mandir. “A low dose and harmless. But it wouldn’t be so harmless for a man who drank the entire cup.”

“We already know there was
nepenthe
in Tufan’s wine. He adds it himself.”

“And you had just a taste of that wine, so minuscule a dose that you shouldn’t feel the effects at all. And yet you do feel them.”

Taya frowned. That was true.

“I think last night he took a fatal dose,” said Mandir.

“A suicide?” That didn’t make sense; Tufan didn’t strike her as the kind of man who’d kill himself. If he had problems, he wouldn’t blame himself; he’d blame others and lash out at them.

“Not at all,” said Mandir. “I think it was in his wine before it came to him, and then he added more. Because clearly
nepenthe
was in Yanzu’s water as well.”

“Could Yanzu have had his own supply of
nepenthe
that he took at night like Tufan did?”

“Unlikely,” said Mandir. “It was precious stuff. Tufan never shared it.”

“But you said you’d tried it.”

Mandir chuckled. “Because I stole it on a couple of occasions.”

“He kept it in his room,” mused Taya. “I wonder if it’s been moved at all. You think the guards will let us back in there?”

“No,” said Mandir. “But it doesn’t matter where the poison came from. It matters who put it in the cup. Let’s have a talk with Shala.”

Chapter 16

When Mandir went with Taya to find Shala in the kitchen, Ilinos told him she’d been taken into Tufan’s chambers for questioning. Apparently he and Taya weren’t the only people interested in talking with her about the events of last night.

They positioned themselves outside Tufan’s chambers, a short way down the hall, so they could talk without being overheard but still see Shala when she left the room.

“They’re probably going to question all of us,” said Taya.

“I imagine they will.” He wasn’t looking forward to his own interview.

“I was with you all last night,” said Taya. “So I know you didn’t do it. And you were with me, so you know I didn’t do it. But I don’t suppose our alibis will do us much good.”

“No,” said Mandir. “They’ll just think we’re covering for each other.”

“Tell me about Bel-Sumai’s dog,” said Taya. “Why does he think you killed it?”

“All I know is that I prepared a plate of table scraps for the dog, as I did every night. The dog ate some of the food, became paralyzed, and died.”

“What evidence does Bel-Sumai have that it was your food that killed the animal?”

Mandir laughed bitterly. “
Evidence?
Why should Bel-Sumai need that, when he knows my brothers and I are trash? He said it had to have been me, because the dog died after eating some of the food I prepared for him. And also because the dog didn’t finish the food, presumably because he could taste the poison.”

“If the food was poisoned, wouldn’t the dog have smelled it and refused to eat it at all?” asked Taya.

“No idea,” said Mandir. “I’ve never kept dogs, and I’m not sure all poisons can be smelled.”

“Did Bel-Sumai taste the food himself?”

“Of course not,” said Mandir.

“Then he had no evidence at all,” said Taya.

No, he didn’t. Bitterness rose in Mandir’s chest. Bel-Sumai had accused Mandir because he was an easy target, not because Bel-Sumai had done any real investigation into what had happened. While Mandir doubted the man would be as slapdash about this double murder investigation—this did, after all, involve a prince of the realm, and Bel-Sumai would have to justify his actions when he returned to the palace—he didn’t have faith that Bel-Sumai would go to great effort to be just and fair. His duty was to the king, not to worthless Mandir and his equally worthless brothers. “There is no justice in this place, none at all.”

Taya’s eyes, full of concern, rose to meet his. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” he said past the lump in his throat.

“I’m not sure you are.” Shifting closer to him, she took his hand and squeezed it.

He squeezed her hand back. Standing in the hallway, in full view of anyone who happened to walk by, he was not free to do what he wanted to do—to hug her, to touch her. To seek comfort in her body.

“There will be justice here,” she said, “even if we have to bring it ourselves.”

Mandir swallowed. “I think this is why I became a
quradum
.”

Her brows rose. “Because justice is important to you?”

“Yes,” he said. “There were a lot of options, you know. I couldn’t be a fire seer, since Isatis has not blessed me with her favor, but all my skills were sound. I could have been an itinerant healer, a scholar, a warrior fighting the mountain tribes. None of those options spoke to me the way being a
quradum
did.”

“I think you make a fine
quradum
.”

“So far, it’s not exactly what I thought it would be.”

Taya nodded, her mouth tightening.

He knew what she was thinking about: the death sentence they’d levied in Hrappa on their inaugural mission, and which he had been the one to carry out. “Still, it’s not fair that the innocent should be punished and the guilty should go free.”

“You’re absolutely right,” said Taya, still holding his hand.

They stood for a moment in silence.

“Let’s go back to the dog,” said Taya. “Was the animal ever outside of Bel-Sumai’s control?”

“Not that I know of,” said Mandir. “But sometimes when Bel-Sumai wasn’t on duty, he took the dog hunting.”

“What sort of hunting?” asked Taya. “Birds, rabbits, foxes, deer?”

“I think birds.”

“Bird dogs work at a distance from their handlers,” said Taya. “The dog might have gotten into something without Bel-Sumai’s knowing about it. Did he take the dog hunting the day it died?”

“I don’t remember.” He only remembered Bel-Sumai accusing him. He’d been taking his morning bath in the river at the time. The bath was a ritual that had given him some comfort as a child; he couldn’t control much about his life at Tufan’s, but he could keep himself clean. Thus he’d been literally naked when Bel-Sumai confronted him.

He’d sworn he was innocent, but Bel-Sumai hadn’t believed him and had beaten him with a stick until he could barely breathe. Bel-Sumai might have killed him if he hadn’t been worried that Tufan might disapprove.

Afterward, Mandir made no attempt to find out who had really killed the dog. His punishment was over, and he had to look ahead, assessing new potential threats, not waste his time obsessing over old ones. But now, faced with Bel-Sumai’s long-lasting resentment, he wished he knew who had really done it.

Shala emerged from Tufan’s bedroom. Mandir wondered fleetingly if the corpse was still in there.

When Shala saw them in the hallway, she turned and walked away from them. So Mandir trotted to catch up and took her arm. “Taya and I want to talk with you.”

“What for?” she gasped.

When Mandir had been a small child, he’d lived on his mother’s farm. He’d found a baby mouse in the barn and tried to keep it as a pet. He put it in a box filled with shavings, where it sat in one place, trembling. It wouldn’t eat and wouldn’t sleep, and it died in a matter of days, apparently of fear. Shala reminded him of that mouse. “We want to ask you a few questions,” he said gently. “It won’t take long.”

“It’s Coalition procedure, nothing more,” said Taya. “We have to make a report about what happened here, and there are some gaps in our knowledge.”

“I gave Tufan his wine, but I didn’t poison him,” said Shala. “I swear it on all the Mothers’ names.”

“We believe you,” said Taya.

Mandir, who didn’t have much practice handling timid people without bullying them, stepped back to give Shala more space. She seemed to respond better to Taya than to him. His size alone was intimidating.

“If you answer our questions, we’ll find out who
did
poison him,” said Taya.

Shala’s eyes darted around. “All right—just for a moment.”

Mandir led Shala back to their guest room, where he seated her at their little table. Then he went next door to fetch a third chair. When he returned, Taya had seated herself across from Shala and seemed to be trying to put her at ease.

“Are you thirsty?” Taya asked.

“Er—no,” Shala stammered.

“Let me show you a bit of magic.” Taya took an empty cup and showed it to Shala. She began to swirl the cup, calling water into the cup from the air. When a thimbleful of water had accumulated within, she showed it to Shala. “See?”

Shala drew back. “How is that possible?”

“I called water out of the air.” Taya smiled. “It’s a Coalition trick.”

“That can’t be real water,” Shala protested.

“But it is.” Taya offered her the cup. “Want to taste it?”

“No,” said Shala.

Taya drank it herself. “It’s entirely real, I assure you.”

Mandir carried his chair to the table and seated himself on the end. Shala edged away from him.

“How did you come to be part of Tufan’s household?” asked Taya.

Shala looked down at the table. “I’m a potter’s daughter from the village of Mica. Tufan went there to look at a horse, and he took a liking to me.”

Mandir broke in. “He carried you off, didn’t he? Took you from your parents, or perhaps from your husband.” He’d seen it many times. He’d been carried off by Tufan in just that way, when Tufan had breezed through the village, saw Mandir in the care of a woman he’d once raped, and claimed Mandir for his own.

“Yes,” said Shala softly. “From my parents.”

“I’m sorry,” said Taya. “How long have you been here?”

“A year,” said Shala.

“And your baby is due when?”

Shala placed a hand on her belly in the universal gesture of pregnant women. “Next month.”

“Is it Tufan’s?” asked Taya.

Shala looked away. “I’m not sure.”

That confirmed Mandir’s suspicions that Tufan was not the only man forcing himself upon Shala. Given Tufan’s difficulties performing in the bedroom, he probably wasn’t the one who’d impregnated her. Poor woman, to endure so much—but her pregnancy might have preserved her life. While Tufan often killed the women he brought out here, usually he was less brutal with the pregnant ones. “Who are the possible fathers?”