by Trevol Swift
“I am but a simple servant to the office.”
“Forgive me. I did not mean to imply.”
The urge to touch her head wrap or Kanto’s repairs to her robe made Jhee focus all the more on holding her cup. She had been relieved to wear the simple, elegant gowns when she expected to be dealing with a hermit-like public tutor. She had not wanted to put on airs. Faced with the sophisticated, urbane Bathsheba of Toho, instead, she felt more a backward, country rustic. Fine. If the vizier thought her a backwater, she would use it.
Jhee pinched the bridge of her nose. “I did see something odd when performing devotions at the main shrine: a figure embracing a naked, one-armed man. This dreadful weather has given me the most egregious headache and possibly a cold. My eyes may not have been as reliable as they once were. Maybe enough to imagine that.”
“Do you partake of a lot of kreel?”
“It’s a staple of the signature dish of our district.”
“It’s been my experience that an abundance of kreel, in addition to sometimes turning you pink, can hamper mental functioning. In conjunction with tiredness or poor health, I’d say you have a recipe for hallucination.”
“You sound like my wife with her dietetic beliefs.”
“She sounds like a wise woman.”
“Perhaps, indeed, you are both right. I rather prefer that to the alternative: vengeful spirits drawn by an abundance of death or unwed souls.”
“I found a draught part Tranquility Bridge’s orange cider, part signature nectar, part black orchid tea, very detoxifying and good for the constitution.” The vizier hesitated and leaned forward. “Did your ship really need repairs?”
Jhee opted for caution in the event she had misread the woman. “Have I given you cause to think otherwise?” Jhee asked.
“An abundance of death. What an interesting choice of words. You’ve never seen fit to visit our abbey before. Three dead Prospectives would have certainly drawn the attention of an involved justicar. I would have thought rather than chasing after phantoms of the mind. You had instead come to seek my counsel on the deaths of those poor, unfortunate souls. I do admit I had an ulterior motive in inviting you here. To see if some word of our plight, and the fates of those three Prospectives, had made it beyond these walls.”
Jhee sipped her kolal and tried not to take umbrage. The vizier at least confirmed Raigen’s findings. The dead men were not refuge-seekers or lay brothers, but men who had committed to the Drakist way. “My office had no reports of three Prospective deaths.”
“Yet here you sit. True, there is no reason the deaths should have been reported. One boy, attended by the abbey physician and myself, appeared to have died of sickness. The other two were likely accidents or suicide. One died in a cave in. The other fell while walking along the bluffs. All autopsied by the prioress. The passing of poor rural boys of consequence to no none, even their officials.”
Jhee’s grip on her cup tightened. “What a lovely finger maze. Does the vizier indulge in the art of sequence and gesture puzzles?”
“A recent find from the archives. One piece of a larger set. I had been working on identifying it, though parts are missing.”
“I’ve dabbled. May I?”
The vizier nodded. “I’d be interested in the assistance of someone so studied as yourself.”
“This one appears to be missing the key which tells you how to start.”
“Would you care to try anyway?”
Jhee weighed her desire to rest and extricate herself from the vizier’s high-handedness against the opportunity to match wits with an early cyphering enthusiast. “I’ve taken up too much of your time, Vizier.”
The vizier pushed the puzzle closer.
Jhee performed a few gestures and solved a few levels in before tripping up. “My that was a tricky one.”
“Ah, delightful. Might I make a suggestion? Having finally seen it used by someone as skilled as yourself, I see it has something of musicality to it. Keep in mind rhythm and flow, and you should be able to progress further.”
“How clever of them! To incorporate musical timing rather than geometric or trigonometric principles. Two simultaneous left-hand sequences. I think it may require more than one participant. Oh, I see you pass it along like a relay or rounds. This might require some time and assistance from my wife to unravel. I have to return to my cohort else they’ll think I’ve gotten lost.”
The vizier poured them another cup of tea. Jhee turned the cup then lifted it with both hands.
“I thank the vizier again for her invitation. Honors to your house and health.”
The vizier raised her cup one-handed without turnings. “No need for such ceremony, and please, call me Bathsheba. I left court to get away from such formality. An acutely pleasant change. You’ll have to walk me through how to use the finger maze before you leave the abbey.”
Once Jhee matched her, they drank at the same time.
Jhee set down her cup. The vizier escorted her to the door. Jhee hesitated when she glimpsed the edge of Saheli’s etching.
“Was there something else, Justicar?”
“I hesitate to impose more on you, Lady Bathsheba. This etching. What do you think of Pyrmo’s account of the death of her predecessor? Is there anything you care to add?”
“I spoke to her as normal, and then we parted company before her noon meal.” The vizier glanced about her again. “I hesitate to relay gossip. Saheli was prone to taking psychedelics around the time she took her images for the day. It wasn’t unusual to hear her speaking with the Makers during her vision quests. Prospectives near her thought nothing of the conversation. As she frequently had them. What she was not in the habit of doing was giving impromptu sermons. The abbey is about personal reflection and inner peace. It came then as a shock when this one day she called upon the senior clerics to hear her preach. She gave the sermon and died. You should read Sister Niza’s account as it is most illuminating. We have a copy of it in our archives.”
“I would like to, but Sister Elkanah doesn’t seem inclined to grant me access.”
“Sister Serra used you to show her up, didn’t she?”
“Afraid so.”
“The pitching-and-yawing between those two. The previous abbess had to do an intricate balancing act to keep them from tearing the abbey apart. They are very protective of their respective fiefdoms. If you desire access to the archives, I might be able to arrange it with the archivist. Consider it done. On one condition.”
“If it is in my humble power to do so, I shall.”
“You simply must consent to be my guest for tea again soon along with your lovely household. It is rare I get to converse with such learned and higher-class individuals as yourself. I also welcome the opportunity to meet a fan.”
Jhee was loathed to expose her cohort to the woman’s snobbery. Yet, an outright refusal would be an insult. Not only would it prevent her from examining the archives, but it might also follow them to court. “We had a hard journey. I will see if they are up to it.”
“Splendid.”
Jhee affected a meek air. “The abbey appears to have been constructed in accordance with sacred geometry tenets, overly elaborate and confusing as if designed by building over serpent trails. That’s ascetics for you. Celibacy. A natural crime if you ask me.”
Lady Bathsheba laughed. “A natural crime, indeed. My secret. I use maps. One of the perks of my position as librarian is access to the old building records. I’ll ether you a copy.”
Jhee’s still too full conch refused the transfer.
“Allow me to get you a hand map and a torch.” The lady rolled out a digital parchment and transcriber. “A physical copy will serve you better in this weather anyway. Though it won’t have live position tracking. Your recognition of the sacred design of the abbey is correct. We are here now at the Bridge wing off the Prime axis. These are your quarters in the opposite wing. You’ll have to cross the central hall again to reach them.”
Jhee touched two of the marked openings. “I saw these barred doors in the banquet hall.”
“The Corrections Hall. Part museum, part throwback to a stricter time in the Drakists’ history where they kept misbehaving Prospectives and Professed. Quite lurid tales of what transpired there exist in the archives. Forbidden orgies, naive juveniles forced to perform blasphemous rites. Imprints left from the previous residents or maybe even your ghosts. The other leads to the crypts.”
Jhee laid a finger on the side of her nose. The abbess had told her the truth. Jhee rolled up the map. “I thank you for this Lady Bathsheba.”
“You’ll need a provision card for the storehouse. It also includes an invite key for your next visit. Remember, orange cider is the key.”
Outside in the hall, Jhee adjusted her head wrap and consulted the map; sacred geometry indeed. A quick count and some reasoning revealed the square and hexagon layout of the abbey’s original structure to be an unfolded, truncated octahedron. She traced the route to the lady’s note marking the guest quarters. Then she traced another to the wing running beside the courtyard. She had no quarrel with Bax’s thoroughness, but she wanted to see this windowless storeroom for herself. Her duty demanded she investigate these matters thoroughly for the good of her constituents.
Jhee set off down the hall. A noise swished after her. She whirled. Again, she found no one there.
The Storeroom
Jhee expelled a satisfied sigh at seeing the storeroom entrance. Not bad for a provincial magistrate. She strode boldly into the storeroom, bumping a shelf on the way in. A mask of Cheiropthys, the bat-faced Exemplar, fell from the shelf to the ground. She yelped but took a deep breath, so she did not flee the storeroom as boldly as she entered it. Rack of robes and costumes lined room. Masks and props hung from any fixture that would hold them. A quick examination of the accessories, hoods, and capes turned up nothing which matched what she saw in the courtyard.
She was hard-pressed to think who had been more self-righteous this evening. Her, Lady Bathsheba, or the clergy. She needed to moderate her behavior and remember she was a guest in their place of worship.
Jhee thought for a moment. She moved aside a chest stored against the outer wall. A good solid thud met everywhere she rapped it with her knuckles. She tapped a few more areas and pushed against every visible join, testing for voids and weaknesses. She even ran her fingers along the tiniest cracks and crevices.
A pebble skittered. Jhee reached into the sleeve of her robe for her knife then formed a defensive cyphering gesture. “I warn you I am versed in the combat forms. Best you show yourself now.”
Jhee heard movement and whirled around. Bax held up his hands placating manner. “Please, ma’am, it’s me. Stay your fury.”
She slipped her knife back into her robes. “What?”
“Try as I might I did not find Hethyr herself. This.” Bax pointed at a rack. He held up a pelt and tabard like the one in which she had performed. “This, though, was not here when I first checked.”
“Without her make-up and costume, Ms. Hethyr may have been hiding in plain sight this whole time. She must have returned here while I tarried with bullies and fools.”
Bax frowned.
“Not you, Bax.”
“If I may, Justicar, your reaction seems to be extreme?”
Jhee was glad he had the courtesy not to say angry or even shaken. “Feh, this evening had tried every component of my patience. I have the constant feeling of eyes upon me other than my ancestors. To the more immediate matter, other than her costume, what else have you to report of the woman?”
“Ms. Hethyr is at best an irregular member of the performance troupe. A vagrant who joins up from time to time, sometimes in the familiar company of Mr. Zane.”
“Odd comings and goings. Without other identifiers, we cannot be assured of her identity. The entertainer persona makes a perfect guise for an individual to come and go as she pleases to whatever purpose.”
“You think she may be disguised as clergy or a lay sister? You suspect her in the killings of those young boys?”
“Yes.” Jhee paused and realized she had not told Bax about that.
“The staff, Justicar. Always talk to them first. Cooks, maids, footmen, and the like will know all the gossip.”
“Good to know.” Jhee massaged her brow. “Do you know where the performers are staying?”
“Yes, Justicar. Permit me, ma’am. You’ve had a long and trying day. I pray you to return to Mr. Shep’s ministrations.”
“I fear he will have cross words for us either way. I cannot rest with my mind bedeviled by so many questions. And if these young men are the victims of some foul play, they’ve waited for justice long enough.”
“You owe them the full power of your faculties, Justicar.”
Bax played with the pouch on his belt as if deciding whether to push the matter. Short temper often meant short sight. She decided to rest. “Continue your inquiries with the staff then get some rest too.”
He expelled a breath. “Yes, Justicar.”
To Jhee’s surprise, Kanto awaited her, not Shep. He had moved the glow lamp to the space by the window where he lounged in a dressing robe curled up with his conch on a salon chair which had replaced one of the stools. With his brow furrowed as he perused his screen, and in the unassuming, dressed-down attire, he looked less the dandy and more the scholar. Mirrei stirred fitfully in the bed, while Shep snored lightly from a billet on the floor. Kanto looked up when she entered the bedchamber.
“Reading a juicy scroller, husband?”
“It’s a copy of the Education Bureau report. It got copied over with the judicial archives.”
“What might you be doing with your eyes glued to that?”
“I’ll have you know I’m interested in cultural things such as ballet, opera, and education. I rather fancied once we reached the capital I could be appointed to an Arts or Education Council.”
She quirked her head at the last. “Why stop there? Why not Education Vizier?”
“Why not, indeed?” He set the conch in his lap with a crisp snap and gave a disdainful stare down his snout at her. “Arts and their appreciation are underfunded in our educational programs, especially in places like the Far Reaches. Not everyone can devote as much time to following them as I can. If you’re going to make fun, I’d just assume you direct it elsewhere. We should have Mirrei fix whatever we did to our conchs. Some of your updates keep getting mirrored to mine.”
Jhee lowered her head. She sat beside him and touched his forearm. “I’m sorry for being glib and presumptuous. It was disrespectful.”
“You’re in a foul mood. What has you troubled?”
“Feh, almost too much to list. To start, it seems as though I received a preview of what awaits me at court. A lesson I intend to take to heart.”
“How was your tea with the vizier?”
Who do you think gave me the lesson? Jhee bit her tongue before she read statute on the vizier and her elitism. “It went well enough. I did my best not to embarrass you.”
She removed her robe and put it on the chair. Kanto held up the dusty, stained clothes. He wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. Really, denbe? Again?”
“My apologies. I pursued a theory after tea.”
“Fruitful?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Kanto sidled closer. He gestured at the robe. “Would you like to make this up to me?”
“If I can.”
He played with the neckline of her undershirt. “Speak to the vizier about education funding. Find a way to fix it. Being a tutor herself and one of music no less, surely, she can put you in contact with the right people. At the capital, you can impress upon them its importance.”
“If I can.”
“You could ask her the next time you see her.”
She still regretted her dismissive words to him. He was such an admirer of the vizier. His more substantial ask had such a long term, she owed him more immedi
ate amends. “Would you like to ask her yourself?”
“Me?”
“I told her of your respect for her work and your skill with the lute. She asked if our household would like to attend her later.”
She handed him the invitation key. His eyes lit up. “I’ll start composing a reply immediately. And locating appropriate attire.”
“Hold until the morning after we’ve had a proper tuck away.”
7 The Spires
The High Spires
“We have tea with the vizier tonight, don’t forget,” Kanto reminded her in the morning.
“Dinner with a vizier and famous music tutor,” Mirrei said. She popped a saline pill. “How exciting.”
“Tonight?” Shep asked.
“Yes, it’s a family night,” Kanto said.
“Jhee swapped days so she could deal with yacht repairs.”
“No one told me. It’d be an insult to cancel now that we’ve confirmed.”
Jhee covered her esca. Yesterday had been Shep’s day. They had swapped it with her open day, which should have been today so she could attend to the yacht repairs. She often spent the free days with him anyway. She had only glanced at the invite key since she had not intended to accept. She took Shep’s hand. “Are you up to this?” she whispered.
He glanced at Kanto and Mirrei discussing outfits. “You don’t suppose he did it deliberately?”
“Regardless, I will respect your wishes. Insult or not.”
“Mirrei’s perked up. They’re both so looking forward to it. I’ve had years with you all by my lonesome, I can spare some of it for them.”
“You know, I hadn’t wanted to do this at all. One tea was enough, but I erred with Kanto and thought this would smooth it over.”
“Shall I draft marriage contracts and bring quills?”
“For the vizier? I should hope not. Besides, do you want to be the one to explain to Lady Kaydence how we married her precious jewel to a cloistered hermit?”