Chapter 31
Chapter
Thirty-One
Luka sat at a rough table opposite Healer Sarwin and strived for calm. Two of his most senior—and trusted—lieutenants stood a few paces back, along the wall, watching with grim expressions.
Sarwin’s gaze flicked to them and back, full of fear. His pupils were ringed with teal, and his scales gleamed and flickered at his throat, catching the lamplight.
They were in a rough interview room deep beneath the barracks, in the cells carved into the mountain long ago.
The prison was hot, damp, and soaked with the despair and rage of past inhabitants.
Decades-old stains mottled the stones, dark mold crept over the walls, and the air was stagnant and bitter.
He hadn’t been down there since the death of the king… and he didn’t want to be there now.
I hate it down here, his beast rumbled.
Luka hated it too, but nothing he’d said, no question he’d asked, had garnered anything useful. They couldn’t leave until it did. “Why did you kill Lady Narya?” he asked again.
Sarwin folded his arms protectively across his torso. “I told you, I didn’t even speak to Lady Narya on the night of the banquet.”
“You were seen with her in the garden the night before,” Luka argued, “and we know she was due to meet a physik on the night she died.”
“I didn’t—”
Luka slammed a hand down on the stained wood, and Sarwin jumped. “Don’t lie to me!”
Sarwin dragged his hand roughly through his hair. “I’m not lying. I didn’t kill her. I wouldn’t kill her! Why would I do that?”
Luka rocked back in his chair. “You tell me.”
They stared at each other for long moments. Only the distant drip of water down stone broke the silence.
“Okay, tell me about your Uncle Benja.” Luka changed direction.
For the first time, a glimmer of rage entered Sarwin’s eyes. “Why don’t you tell me? Rayan was your best friend. He stole Benja’s shop, and then he gave it to your lover.”
A sharp ache pierced Luka’s fingers where his beast stretched out their claws. He let his chair fall forward with a loud clunk. “Is that why you killed him?”
“I didn’t kill him! I hated him, but I didn’t—”
A commotion from down the corridor drowned out Sarwin’s denial, and Luka turned to see Physik General Melo storming down the row of cells, arguing ferociously with a prison guard. Aiden strode behind her, his jaw clenched.
Melo reached the cell and banged roughly on the bars. “What the fuck is this? I’ll have the queen down here. I’ll—”
“Melo!” Sarwin stood, reaching for her, only to be caught by the steel shackles that secured him to the table. A flurry of teal scales fluttered over his face, and for the first time, he appeared truly distressed.
Luka stood slowly, noting the way they looked at each other.
The missing lover, his beast noted acidly.
“Let me in!” Melo shook the barred door, rattling the metal loudly. “I won’t stand for this!” she snarled at Luka. “The queen will strip you of your commission when she hears of this!”
The guard who had tried to hold her bowed to Luka with a quick apology and then moved to pull Melo away, but Luka stopped him. “If the physik general wants to come in, let her.” He waved for a lieutenant to open the door and drag in another rickety wooden chair to set beside Sarwin.
Melo tugged her arm away with a rough jerk and stomped through to stand beside Sarwin, not quite touching.
This is cozy.
Indeed. Luka glanced back at Aiden, who met his silent question with a sharp, angry nod. He’d found it. Gods.
Luka sat back down, watching Sarwin and Melo as he smiled coldly. “Sarwin was just about to tell us why he hated Rayan enough to kill him.”
“Killed?” Melo repeated roughly. “What?”
Sarwin turned toward Melo, another flurry of teal scales flickering over his cheekbones. “I hated him, you know I did, but I didn’t kill him. I swear to you—”
Luka cut him off. “Let’s consider this for a moment.
You’re working your way up through the healer ranks, but it’s slow, and the wages are low.
Living in the city is expensive, and the apothecary shop is failing.
So, you and your uncle come up with a way to make some extra cash, a little side business for you both.
But then your uncle dies, leaving the shop in arrears.
” Luka leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
“Maybe Benja got a bit sloppy before he died. Maybe you were a little rattled and made a mistake. Maybe Rayan went to check on the shop he was buying with his sister—right from under you—and realized the truth. Either way, someone got suspicious, and suddenly there was a guard among the healers. A guard who didn’t trust you at all. ”
Melo bristled, bronze scales flickering along her arms, but Luka ignored her. “Did Rayan find something?” he pushed. “Did he challenge you? Or was it colder than that? Did you see him at the clinic and decide to get rid of him quickly, while you could?”
Sarwin shook his head. “Benja’s shop should have been mine. But the rest… no. Just no.”
“Of course you’d say that. But we already know you’re a fantastic liar.” Luka smiled coldly as he waved a hand between Sarwin and Melo. “Not one single person knew you were lovers, after all.”
“That’s completely different,” Melo spat. “We were discreet. We didn’t want anyone to assume—”
Luka laughed viciously, full of rage at these people who called themselves healers.
These hypocrites who had always treated Izzy badly for her family connections.
These murderers who had killed his best friend.
“What would we assume?” he demanded. “That Sarwin got special treatment from his superior? Or that you were working together to run Firebreather into our city and using our troops as a caravan to spread it into our neighboring kingdoms.”
“Firebreather! Gods of Chaos. I would never. I’ve seen what it does.” Sarwin’s scales stood out in stark relief against his pale face. “That’s what I told Lady Narya when we met. I told her not to even think about it.”
“Then why did you meet her the night of the ball?”
“I didn’t!” Sarwin shouted, and then he sighed, his shoulders slumping.
“I did plan to meet her, though. We’d become friendly over the weeks the delegation was here.
She wanted to see the city at night without her guards, and I was going to make sure she took a squad.
” He looked at Melo. “You know this already. I waited for hours in the hall, but she never came.”
“That all sounds very convenient… but it doesn’t explain this.
” Luka waved at Aiden, who stepped forward and plonked a wooden box onto the table.
The box was blackwood with iron bands and reinforcements at the corners.
An expensive-looking shackle lock had been smashed and hung loose from the latch.
“Is this yours?” Luka asked.
Sarwin frowned. “Where did you get that? What have you done to it?”
“I took it from your room,” Aiden growled.
“You can’t just go into my room! That’s….” Sarwin’s words trailed away as Luka flicked the box open.
Inside, there was a removable tray, its compartments lined with linen and holding two dozen tiny glass vials.
Aiden lifted out the tray to reveal another layer of linen and vials.
Each of the vials—made from clear Kwanam glass—held a strange gray powder that clung to the glass with an unnatural viscosity.
And each of the vials was sealed with a wax-dipped stopper, pressed with a clear image of a flame.
“Firebreather,” Melo whispered in a horrified voice.
“No! No! I don’t…. I wouldn’t!” Sarwin shook his head desperately.
“Benja died from taking Firebreather. He crashed so low. One minute he was vomiting and ranting about being watched, the next he was staring at a wall, lying in his own filth. I cleaned him. I held his hand as he faded into nothing. I would never.” He turned to Melo, grasped her hand, and beseeched. “You believe me. Don’t you?”
I believe him.
“What?” Luka was surprised enough that he spoke the word aloud.
“I believe you,” Melo covered his hand with hers. “I do. But, baby—” Her eyes fell to the box of Firebreather. “—this is very bad.”
“I know. I can explain!” Sarwin used his shackled hand to wipe away the sweat from his face. “I thought it held dried buchu leaf. I… the first two boxes definitely held buchu. I checked them myself.”
“Buchu leaf?” Luka prompted. He vaguely recalled it being some kind of medication, but he didn’t know it well.
“It has so many uses.” Sarwin swallowed roughly. “Joint pain, stomach problems, and especially for infections of the waters and… ah… loin fever. But it’s dangerous for pregnant women, it could cause them to lose the baby, so I keep it locked away.”
“But we don’t take buchu to the front,” Melo said slowly. “It’s too rare. There’s only one place in the berg that it grows.”
Sarwin leaned forward, his scales receding slightly. “Exactly. King Soshan banned it for common use. He only wanted it for the nobles, and after he died, the ban was never lifted. There are people who need it, and I could get it to them.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?” Melo asked, eyebrows drawn together. “We could have taken your suggestion to the queen.”
“At first, I assumed she’d be just like the king.
Then I lost Benja and the shop, and then Rayan’s death put everyone on edge.
After that… it was working well. I carried one box to the front a couple of times a year.
It wasn’t hurting anyone—it was helping them—and I didn’t want to bring attention to it and risk losing it. ”
It made sense. If it were true, Luka even had some sympathy for it. But there was still something that wasn’t clear. “Why didn’t you open the boxes?”
“I opened the first couple, but after that, I didn’t want to risk moisture getting in and making the leaf moldy.”
“Sure,” Aiden drawled coldly. “It was the mold you were worried about, not the money you were making.”
“I wouldn’t…. I don’t….” Sarwin turned to Melo, tears on his cheeks. “If I had any money, I would have bought my uncle’s shop!”
Luka fought to contain his beast’s rising grumble. “What happens to the box when you get to the front?”
“I have a contact. A corporal takes it to distribute.”
“And he pays you?”
“No! No one pays me. I just wanted to help.” He hiccoughed and then whispered, “But they send notes sometimes….”
“Notes?”
“Sealed letters. I assumed they held thank-you notes for the midwife.”
Luka paused as his beast rose inside him. “What midwife?”
Sarwin’s shoulders slumped as he wiped his face. “I know this old midwife. She can’t practice anymore because her joints trouble her. Her son harvests the buchu and boxes it up for me to collect when I check in on her.”
A wave of icy premonition slithered through Luka’s veins as his beast lurched to full attention. “What’s wrong with her joints?”
“She had red-scale sickness years ago. Very nearly lost everything. Luckily, her son was prepared to go into the mountains to harvest the buchu so they could finally have some income. I used to have to take food with me, but now they’re far more comfortable.
They have extra blankets, new clothes….” His eyes widened.
His beast growled steadily as Luka asked, “And where, exactly, does this midwife live?”
“In Naos, not far from the Nabaspath.”
My mother lives in Naos, near the path. The voice played in his memory. She had to leave her job as a midwife. Now she’s alone.
Luka held himself still while his beast thrashed and howled inside him. “And who is her son?”
Sarwin stared at him, looking confused. “I never met him, but his mother speaks of him often. His name is Dashiell.”
Gods of fire.
Where was Dashiell now? He’d inserted himself into their investigation and into the castle guard. He’d manipulated them all—especially Luka—from the beginning. How the fuck had he missed this?
Cori didn’t see it either, and she spent the day with him.
Luka’s gut churned. He’d forgotten to ask Cori what she thought of Dashiell. Izzy’s offer to sacrifice herself had driven it straight from his mind, and Cori had left directly from that meeting to start recalling her troops.
Cori would have said something before she left if she thought he was dangerous. Dashiell is clearly an exceptional liar.
He was also highly intelligent and utterly ruthless. Gods, he’d been running Firebreather from within the city guard.
And all the way to the border.
Of course, and with the soldiers withdrawn, his scheme was about to fall apart.
That’s why he killed Narya, Luka’s beast whispered roughly.
The truth of it burned through Luka; Dashiell was the assassin. And now… did he know how close he was to being discovered? What might he do if he thought his plans were about to be uncovered? Luka launched himself up, ignoring his chair as it fell with a clatter behind him.
We have to get to Izabel. Right. Now.
Luka clenched his fists, letting his claws score his skin. His beast was right. Nothing else mattered.