“Calm, mistress,” said the axiom quietly. “Calm…”
“Don’t know, ma’am,” I said again.
“There must have been some way!” Fayazi snapped, suddenly riled. “I thought you Iudex people were supposed to be clever!”
“You must be calm!” said the axiom. “Breathe deep the airs of this place and be calm!”
Again, the axiom held her mistress’s arm, yet this time she gripped her so tight her fingers disappeared into Fayazi’s robes. I could think of no one less calming and reassuring than this needle-eyed creature. Yet I sensed an opportunity.
“I don’t think the poison was brought in during your party, ma’am,” I said, thinking rapidly.
“Then how?” Fayazi demanded.
“I think it came earlier,” I said. “I think it was already here, waiting to be used. The murderer simply had to come to the party, pick it up, and bring it to the appropriate place. And it wouldn’t be hard to sneak something the size of a blade of grass into your estate.”
I paused. All I’d said thus far were things I truly believed; but now I would have to lie. And that had never been my greatest talent.
“Then how?” Fayazi demanded again.
“It could have come over the walls somehow,” I said slowly, “or, possibly, it was carried in by some small animal.”
“Like what?” said the engraver. “The killer used a trained mouse to sneak the blade of grass into the boiler?”
“Or a trained bird,” I said. “The estate does have a rookery, doesn’t it? For scribe-hawks?”
Fayazi paused, considering this.
“That place,” said the axiom softly, “is not for you.”
“You…you are suggesting,” the engraver said slowly, “that someone…posted the poison to the lady’s house? Carried by a scribe-hawk?”
“Possibly. You get a lot of them coming here, I’d expect. And a blade of grass would be a simple thing for such a creature to carry. Do you check your hawks the same way you checked your guests for your party?”
“Do you really think,” the engraver said, “that having had this poison carried here upon a scribe-hawk, one of the lady’s servants just took it off the bird and…what, left it lying about?”
“I would normally think it unlikely,” I said coolly, “but then, I would also think someone navigating your servants’ passages, breaking the top door open, and then you not noticing either would be very unlikely. And yet, that is evidently what has happened.”
A frosty pause. All three of them glared at me.
“Very few are allowed in our rookery,” Fayazi said. “Even I was not permitted there, until recently. Only my father and his most trusted servants possessed access.”
“I must review all avenues of entry, ma’am,” I explained. “The rookery, the walls—everything.”
“Would you still wish to see it, Signum,” the axiom said, “if you knew that we had burned all of the master’s correspondence after his death?”
I tried not to let my frustration show in my face. Of course. Of course they’d burned it all. Perhaps for contagion, but also to destroy evidence, surely.
Yet Ana had told me to get into the rookery. Perhaps there might still be something of value there.
“Yes,” I said smoothly. “Of course I would.”
Fayazi thought about it. “Then I will allow you a moment.”
“There is nothing there for him to see, mistress,” said the axiom. “We canno—”
“They tell me this boy is the one who investigated Blas’s murder,” said Fayazi sharply. She glared back at her servant. “Perhaps he can give us assistance.” She looked at me. “Five minutes, Signum, and no more.”
She turned and began walking, and I and her retinue followed.
CHAPTER 28
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AS WE WALKED I peppered Fayazi and her Sublimes with questions about her father’s correspondence. Had there been anything unusual? Any packages that had been laid aside? Any letters or correspondence from unusual places? Part of this was to maintain my story as to why I wished to see the rookery, but I also wanted to learn as much about Kaygi Haza’s correspondence as I could, even if it was now burned.
But their responses were short, clipped, and inarguable: “No,” or “Certainly not,” or “Not that I recall.” Nothing useful whatsoever, and the axiom eventually stopped answering altogether.