'I can't believe that a pure Aphalis has ended up in the hands of the gate keepers.' The priest's voice was muffled by his mask, so it was hard to read anything from it. His demeanour, however, gave more away. Right from the start, he seemed somewhat aloof, distant from the ordinary inhabitants or even the soldiers. He did not look down on them, but one could get the impression that the investigator was observing everything from the sidelines, from the outside, as if he were looking at a painted panorama and trying to understand the artist's vision. He did not wield the authority of a high-ranking figure or the power of his position to brush aside anything that might be an obstacle or a hindrance. Darius could not fathom his intentions.
He also learnt little about the priest himself, though it seemed the man had no qualms about talking about himself. The investigator paid little heed to the rather undiplomatic question of why he, of all people, had been asked to investigate the drug case. It turned out that Aphalis's appearance in Bushtabhar had been linked to other similar incidents increasingly coming to light in the region. Interestingly, this had caused concern not only among the Atlantean generals responsible for North and West Africa, but also among the Shehed warlords and local potentates in the border regions and those situated in the Chad Basin. The problem seemed to be escalating, and neither side had any intention of allowing foreign military forces onto their territory, so they turned to the only institution, apart from the Hunters, that could operate freely within the territories of Atlantis and the Sheheds: the Temple of Arnas. The investigator, Tahir Keita, as he introduced himself, revealed that he had been sent by the Grand Hierarch Imduin himself, the leader of the followers of Arnas, the god of the deserts and, at the same time, the guardian deity of the Sheheds. This also meant that the temple took its role very seriously.
'Three vials are worth several thousand Crystal Crowns each.' The priest leaned over the table and peered once more into the box lying on it. 'If they're as pure as I think, there could be as much as forty thousand Crowns in here.' He looked up, and Darius gazed once more into the black eye sockets of the mask. 'Am I to believe that someone paid such a fortune for the chance to enter the enclave at night and be shown how to bypass the watch waiting inside?'
'I just repeated the version shared with us by the only sentry left in his right mind,' Bleist said conciliatorily. He had no intention of rubbing the follower of Arnas up the wrong way, as there was already enough tension between them and the Atlanteans. Given that the god of the deserts was the most important deity for the Sheheds, it was no surprise that his followers harboured no love for the inhabitants of Atlantis, the Black Citadel and Dagos, which, following the fall of the Shehed kingdom, had occupied part of the territories that once belonged to Arayse.
'What did the others stationed at the outpost say?' the investigator asked.
'They haven't been questioned yet. If that is your wish, you may go and see them straight away.' The colonel settled back further in his chair, showing that he paid little heed to Keit's somewhat condescending manner. 'I believe I have already told you everything we've managed to ascertain about this matter. I must admit it wasn't our priority, so the findings themselves aren't the most thorough either.'
'Aphalis is one of the greatest threats, so how...'
'Fortunately, being a member of the Guard means my duties always take precedence over all other regulations.' Darius interrupted the priest. He didn't like the fact that it was starting to look as though the investigator wanted to interrogate him. Perhaps he'd chosen a rather harsh tone, but he was pleased that he'd made it abundantly clear what their standing was here.
The knock on the door made Lieutenant Al-Satar jump as if someone had fired a rifle right next to his ear. Apart from the colonel and the priest, the local commander was the only other person present, and from the very start of the meeting he had seemed to be sitting on pins and needles. It was hardly surprising, given that Captain Cornwall had arrived with reinforcements and Al-Satar must have been worried that he might be stripped of his command in Bushtabhar. To make matters worse, he was sitting in the citadel tower listening to a heated exchange, the result of which could cost him not just his position, but his head.
Without waiting for a reaction from inside, Rex entered the room with a grim expression. It was clear that something had happened and the news was not good. He quickly crossed the room and leaned in to whisper something in Darius's ear.
'We found one of our field agents,' he began, taking care that no one but his superior heard the message. 'Unfortunately, he's dead.'
Darius bit his lip, restraining himself from letting out a few uncensored remarks. I should have expected that nothing would be this simple. He thought bitterly.
'I'm afraid I must take my leave, gentlemen.' He rose from his seat. 'You know where to find me if you need me. I'd be more than happy to help when I have a spare moment.' He emphasised the last sentence more strongly.
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The slum, or at least that's how Bleist saw it, looked dreadful. Darius had seen all sorts of slums in his time, but he had never come across one so run-down, so devoid of life and so steeped in despair. The main street, or rather the passageway, must have been deserted long ago due to the Guards patrolling it, but from the side alleys, someone was peering out every now and then. Grey or sunburnt faces with sunken cheeks, cracked lips and empty eyes. Emaciated figures shuffling sluggishly in the meagre shade of the few tattered scraps of fabric offering protection from the merciless heat. Even now, with the sun almost set, the place still seemed weighed down by the harsh conditions of the local climate.
Walking between crumbling buildings, followed by the stares of many eyes stripped of life and feeling the heat of the setting sun on the back of his neck, Bleist had the impression that he was inside a nightmare. A nightmare that had taken on an all too real form. Every few steps, he felt the urge to stop and look around, to make sure that a dark spectre, which human words could not describe, was not lurking right behind him. He shuddered at the very thought and instinctively glanced over his shoulder. In the middle of the deserted road, literally a few metres behind the armed men heading into the slums, stood a barefoot child with glassy, sightless eyes, flaxen hair and an unpleasantly grey complexion, dressed in a simple, torn tunic covering a gaunt body.
Bleist stopped and turned, but the figure was already gone. He had no idea whether he had imagined it or had actually seen a neglected child. The Guards accompanying him also halted. None of them asked any questions; it seemed that the colonel was not the only one feeling out of place here.
Trying to maintain at least a semblance of composure, Darius clenched his teeth and set off in the direction he had been heading. In an attempt to distract his thoughts from his surroundings, he once again recalled what Rex had managed to tell him. The Guard's body had been discovered in one of the last hideouts they had left to check, as it was situated in the south-western part of the city and was the outpost furthest from the centre. It had been placed in one of the few decent buildings in that part of town: a courier office. It was a sound idea, given that activity in such a place rarely attracts prying eyes. The deceased was found in a hidden part of the building, though no one had moved the body before the colonel's arrival. Not wanting to overlook anything, Bleist sent for a surgeon, as he had no other medic at hand.
When they arrived, the earl felt a sense of dissonance looking at the barely standing ruins and the two-storey stone building with thick bars on the windows and reinforced doors. The whitewashed walls of the courier office had long since turned grey, but their original colour could still be glimpsed at the top. The upper floor had likely served as staff accommodation for the courier in charge of the facility, whilst the actual office operated on the ground floor. One of the Azure Guards stood in the entrance, and inside, several others could be seen bustling about the room.
Darius quickly made his way towards this undoubted haven of normality amidst a depressing sea of misery. As he crossed the doorstep, he sensed something he had half expected. An unpleasant stench of decay mingled with the musty smell of iron hung in the air. What troubled him more, however, was how much it resembled the stench of the slums.
The main room on the ground floor was a standard office, with a reception area, a desk and several shelving units with numbered compartments. Opposite the entrance was a door leading further into the building. Guided partly by reason and partly by the scent, Darius headed straight for it.
The next room was smaller, windowless and divided into several sections. Against the wall on the left were stairs leading to the first floor, and half of the rest of the room was partitioned off by sturdy bars. There were empty shelves, a few small boxes and a couple of pouches. The rest of the room was cluttered with sacks. One of the Guards stood at the back of the room, trying to block the open section of the false wall. Bleist walked over to him and examined the entrance. He had to admit that someone had gone to great lengths to ensure the secret passage to the cellar wasn't conspicuous. Even when opened, the small gap could easily be overlooked.
'Careful, Colonel, the ceiling's quite low.' The Guard stepped aside to make more room for them.
The heavily armoured ones didn't even approach the passage, merely hinting that they would secure the area, so Bleist had to descend into the darkness accompanied only by Rex. He quickly lit a magic light and peered into the opening. He had to admit, rather reluctantly, that he barely fit through the passage. He was very close to having to order the wall broken down to get down there.
After squeezing inside, he found himself on a narrow staircase taking up roughly half the width of the entrance to the upper level. The very start was indeed low, but after descending a few high steps, one could stand upright. The passage stretched downwards and appeared to descend well below ground level, and thus much deeper than a normal cellar. It was rather crudely constructed, clearly using magic, as if one of the agents had prepared the descent themselves.
When Darius finally reached the very bottom, he instinctively held his breath, trying to suppress the nausea. The source of the sweetish, musty stench of decay was a body leaning with its back against the wall opposite the entrance to the underground passage. The corpse, clad only in dark trousers and high boots, was battered, though it was clear that someone had tried to dress the wounds on the torso and arms. Unfortunately, the alchemical potions and bandages had been of no use, and around the body lay a pool of dried blood with empty vials sunk into it. The dead man's head had fallen limply onto his chest, so his face was not visible, but his hand still gripped the hilt of his broadsword tightly. His other hand was stretched out to the side, as if at the last moment the man had tried to push something away.
Bleist clumsily pulled a scarf from under his armour and covered his face with it. The two Guards searching the rest of the room had similar scarves tied over their faces. The underground room was roughly the size of a courier office building. Like the descent below, this place too had been built in a crude style. The rectangular room contained two beds, a dozen or so shelves with scraps of documents, a large table and several cupboards. At the far end of the room, to the right of the stairs, one of the bookcases had been moved aside, revealing the mouth of a dark tunnel behind it.
'Where does that passage lead?' Darius pointed to the underground tunnel.
'Two of our men went to check it out, Colonel,' replied one of the Guardsmen searching the place.
'Did you find anything of note?' Earl had no intention of staying there a second longer than necessary.
'Just one thing.' The soldier picked up a book from one of the shelves and handed it to Bleist. 'It was lying on the floor next to the body. Please check the last entry.'
Without a word, Darius opened the manuscript, written on very thin, delicate paper. Bleist recognised it, perhaps all too well. It was a type of writing material frequently used by agents to record important information because of how easily it could be destroyed: throwing a stack of such pages into water caused them to dissolve completely. The colonel merely glanced at the pages written in code and opened it at the last entry. Unlike the other pages, this one was filled with brown-red ink. Darius shuddered and looked at the patch of dried blood on the floor. He returned to reading. He did not recognise the cipher, but this did not surprise him, as depending on the territorial unit to which they belonged, the Azure Guard used separate systems for securing messages.
The last sentence written down was interesting. It was not encrypted and contained a single, simple instruction:
If you are reading this, deliver the logbook to the Azure Guard headquarters immediately.