A separate elver death report? That the Commander was requesting such information on a regular basis suggested that the number of deaths from elveweed was exceptionally high throughout all of L’Excelsis. Such a tally would be lower than actual elveweed deaths, even if all such deaths in Third District that came to the attention of the Civic Patrol were listed diligently, because some deaths in the taudis would go unreported, with bodies being sneaked into waste wagons and otherwise being disposed of without Patrol notice. And some elver deaths, particularly among the well-off families in L’Excelsis, would doubtless be listed as deaths from illness. In a way, they doubtless were.
Still…we needed to do our best to comply, and I walked into the small study next to mine. Alsoran bolted to his feet. I’d tried to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but old reactions still overcame my words.
“Sir?”
I handed him the dispatch and waited for him to read it.
He looked up. “I wouldn’t want to be in Captain Kharles’s boots.”
“I’m more worried about our boots. The subcommander is going to notice that not nearly as many of our elvers are dying as there are in the taudis in either District Six or Four. He’ll take that as proof that I’ve got ties to the taudischefs and dealers.”
“You talk to the taudischefs. You always have. He knows that. It only makes sense,” Alsoran pointed out.
Subcommander Cydarth might well try to use that against me, but I only said, “We’re just beginning to get deaths outside the taudis in Third District, and with the taudischefs trying to pressure the runners, we might see a spike in outside deaths. We really have no way of controlling access to elveweed once it gets outside the taudis.” Not that we had that much control inside, but we did have a little influence with those who had some influence with the dealers and the runners.
“You think the number of outside deaths will increase that much?”
“Don’t you?”
“I’m afraid so, sir.”
We didn’t have to wait long. After their second round, Zerbyn and Farran reported two more elver deaths, both on the non-taudis side of Quierca. While there weren’t any other elveweed deaths discovered for the rest of the day shift, I had no doubts that there would be more that night and over the weekend. The only question was how many.
It was fifth glass when I hailed a hack outside Third District station and took it to NordEste Design, where I got off. There wasn’t much point in our returning to Imagisle and then immediately leaving for my parents’ house for dinner.
Betara and Seliora met me at the top of the steps, while Hestya played with Diestrya on a settee near the door to the plaques room off to my right.
“We’ve gotten some word about the elveweed,” said Betara. “It sounds like the only places besides L’Excelsis where the fresher and stronger weed is being sold are Estisle, Westisle, Solis, and Kherseilles.”
“The capital and the major ports.” I paused. “Also, the same cities, except for L’Excelsis, where Pharsi men have been killed. It could be a coincidence…but…”
“You don’t think so,” replied Betara.
“I don’t, but I don’t have the faintest idea why the two would be connected, because, so far as I know, the Pharsi families don’t deal in elveweed.” Even as I spoke, another thought struck me. “Elveweed’s been around for a long time. From what I know, even when Mama Diestra was closer to the taudis, she didn’t deal with it. What’s the Pharsi attitude toward it? Is there one?”
“No true Pharsi likes it. It slows thought and takes away intelligence.”
“Did Mama Diestra lean on the dealers to keep it out or away from children or something like that?”
“She might have. That was when I was very young.” Betara’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think…?”
“I just wonder if the men who were killed were the types who dealt with the taudis…who had those kinds of connections and who felt the same way.”
Seliora looked to me. “Those are the most prosperous cities, aren’t they?”
“L’Excelsis is. The others are among the more prosperous, but places like Cloisonyt, Mantes, and Khelgror are just as well-off. Extela might be also.”
“The four others where the strong elveweed has appeared are ports, you said,” added Betara.
Why ports, I wondered, if the fresher weed was being grown in Solidar? It couldn’t be because it was coming off ships. “They are, but it doesn’t make much sense to me. If someone wanted to cause trouble in the port cities, giving stronger elveweed to taudis-dwellers and the comparative handfuls of others who smoke it certainly wouldn’t disrupt much.”
Betara and Seliora exchanged glances that suggested they didn’t know either.
I glanced around. “Odelia?”
“She’s gone,” Seliora said. “She’s not talking to me any more than she has to.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Everyone has to make their own decisions. Haerasyn isn’t a child.” Betara paused. “I did overhear her telling Hanahra that Haerasyn thought that smoking elveweed would make him an imager, or something even better, and that was why the imagers wanted to stamp out elveweed.”
“That’s idiotic,” snapped Seliora. “Odelia knows better.”
“She does. So does Aegina. They both think he’s deluded, but…” She shrugged.
“That kind of rumor will tempt more young people to try it,” I said, “and that’s not good. More of them will die.”
We began to collect Diestrya and her things.
At half past five, Seliora, Diestrya, and I walked down to the hack Bhenyt had hailed for us and began the ride in along Nordroad to the Guild Square and then out the Midroad. We arrived just before sixth glass. After the hack pulled up and we stepped out and I paid the hacker, I couldn’t help comparing my parents’ house to that of Factor Roulet’s. The two looked similar in style, but the Roulet’s dwelling was perhaps a fifth smaller, with far narrower windows.
Even before we reached the front porch, Mother had opened the door. “Diestrya!”
Our daughter was bright enough to discern that grandmothers who received attention were far more likely to reward them with affection, and even more to the point, with treats. Diestrya hurried up the steps and threw both arms around Mother’s right leg. “Nana!”
We followed more sedately, allowing my mother her moment of full attention as she picked up Diestrya.
“Every time I see you,” Mother said to her granddaughter, “you’ve grown. You’re getting to be such a big girl. Now…Rheityr is waiting for you in the nursery, and there are treats for both of you.”
At the word “treats,” Diestrya smiled and hugged Mother again before Mother set her down and led her into the house.
Seliora and I exchanged a knowing glance. In that respect, it was a very good thing we didn’t see my parents too often.
Culthyn, Remaya, and Father were waiting in the family parlor, Father in his usual chair directly facing the stove, which emitted just enough heat for a chill autumn evening. Remaya turned from what ever she’d been discussing with Culthyn.
“What’s new with the Patrol business?” Father always referred to whatever I was doing as “business,” even when I’d been a journeyman artist.
“More of the usual,” I replied as Mother came back down the steps from the nursery.
“One moment, Chenkyr,” she interjected. “What would everyone like to drink before dinner? Seliora?”
“The Dhuensa, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“That’s what I’ll have,” replied Father, “as if you didn’t know already.”
“Red Cambrisio,” added Remaya.
“The same,” I said.
Mother slipped out to the kitchen, where I could hear Kiesela doing something with pots, but returned immediately.
“I ran across a Madame D’Roulet on Meredi,” I said. “She knew who I was. At least, she knew I was your son.”
Mother laughed, and Father looked puzzled.