The Tainted Cup (Shadow of the Leviathan, #1)(67)


There, at the base of the skull, was a tiny, dark hole. Just like the one I’d found on Aristan’s corpse.

I looked at the man’s face, engraving what I saw: large nose, broken repeatedly in the past; scanty beard; thick eyebrows; one false tooth the color of pewter. Yonas Suberek, I guessed, our missing miller. I could find nothing more to learn from his body.

I studied the rest of the basement, digging through the junk and the refuse in search of anything else of interest. I found nothing.

A hoarse, harsh voice from above—Miljin’s. “Kol!” he bellowed. “You down there, boy?”

“Yes, sir!” I said, popping up.

His gray-maned face appeared in the ladder hatch. “Damn. There’s no way I could fit down here…” He blinked, waved flies from his face, then narrowed his eyes. “And you’re down there with a dead fella, by the stink of it.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “This Suberek, I think. Man who owned the mill. He’s dead.”

“How?”

“Hole in his head, sir. Like someone drilled it.”

His eyes narrowed. “Hole in his head…Sanctum. That’s just like the other.”

I nodded, attempting to look solemn. “Aristan, yes. Ana told me about her.”

He squinted at me. “Strovi tells me you’re the one who put those bodies in the mud out there. That so?”

“Two should be the captain’s, sir. The others are…mine, I suppose, yes.”

His face went strangely shuttered. “Interesting…And he said you just remembered. Is that it?”

“Remembered my training. Yes, sir.”

“Interesting,” he said again. “Hmph. Then let’s get you out of there. Whole crew’s arriving now. They’ll be hollering for answers soon, no doubt.”





CHAPTER 22


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“IT ALL BEGINS TO show,” said Uhad wearily, “a rather appalling pattern.”

I glanced about the room as we listened. All of the primary team was there, standing amid the shadowy machinery of the little mill: Uhad leaned gloomily at the head of the worktable, like a starving blue stork staring into a fishless creek; seated to his right was Ana, blindfolded and bent, her fingers probing the indentations and scars on the worktable surface; across from Ana sat Nusis, still pert and cheery and nodding even at this late hour, her red coat pressed and impeccable; and there at the back of the workshop, half-lost in the bunches of drying parchfern, stood Kalista, somehow glamorous and glittering despite all the gloom about her, her clay pipe clutched in her mouth. She seemed to very much resent being brought here: the courtesan dove sulking in its cage, perhaps.

“We can now safely conclude we are pursuing two killers, I think,” said Uhad. “One who kills with dappleglass, and one who kills with a spike to the skull. The dappleglass killer has apparently vanished, but this new one appears to still be about…and killing quite enthusiastically.” He paused, his face grim. “Yet before we speculate further, I would prefer a more experienced eye review this most recent body.” He turned to Nusis. “I believe as an Apoth, Immunis, you are somewhat used to the handling of cadavers…”

Nusis’s cheery smile vanished. She sighed, shrugged off her red Apoth’s coat, carefully folded it, and laid it on her chair. “I shall go see,” she said, then retreated into the reeking hallways.

“Won’t you need a lantern?” called Miljin after her.

“No,” said her voice in answer. “I can see perfectly well in the dark.”

There was a surprised silence. Then Miljin scoffed and shook his head. “Damn Apoths…”

“Are we sure that we have two killers?” asked Kalista. “The first person felled by this spike to the skull was Blas’s secretary, yes. And that seems likely related to Blas’s own horrid corruption, eliminating anyone who might know things they oughtn’t. But why Suberek? Why murder a simple fernpaper miller?”

“I cannot imagine,” confessed Uhad. “Unless Blas talked to this fernpaper miller…Yet that challenges the imagination.”

Ana cocked her head, grinning. “Or we are being too conservative in our estimation of ‘cleaning up’!”

All eyes slowly turned to her.

“What might you mean by that?” asked Uhad.

She shrugged. “Perhaps there is someone out there who does not want us finding out how or when or where any of these poisonings took place—for that would lead to yet more discoveries of corruption. If we assume that, and also assume Suberek provided fernpaper to help cover up the killings…well, then it would make very good sense to kill him!”

There was an uneasy silence.

“If that is so,” said Uhad, “we must find the destination of Suberek’s last delivery.”

“Agreed,” said Ana. “Din—before you join the search…” She held up a finger. “A word, please.”

I moved to her as the others started to dig through the mill. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I would like for you to take me to the stables, if only for a moment.”

I held out my arm. She grasped it and I led her outside.



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