A House Divided

Chapter10

Morning wasn't far off by the time Kila returned to his lodgings, but he was too keyed up to sleep. Changing back into his looser garb, he stepped out to his garden to finish what he had started before Burl had knocked on his door.

He had accompanied the chief and Burl back to the station, where they left Toran Stowley's body in the care of the Healers. Incongruous as the name sounded when it came to those Healers who worked with Enforcement, their unsurpassed knowledge of human anatomy was an indispensable tool in the Enforcers' mandate to fight crime. If anyone could pinpoint the exact cause of death, it would be them, though their preliminary examination didn't turn up any evidence contradictory to the established narrative. Krozemund, the Chief Anatomical Examiner, assured Chief Flim that he would consult with an Apothecist as necessary to confirm the nature of the substance in the vial, but he said he could typically discern what someone had ingested by the effects it had on the body.

Krozemund had headed the team of Healers since before Kila's first tenure in Cearova, and Kila had never heard anything untoward about the man. All signs pointed to his feeling no particular loyalty to anyone. Healers weren't incorruptible, but their accepted collective ethos demanded that they treat all victims of ill health or injury, regardless of the person's social status or economic means. Most of the Healers Kila had known took this vow very seriously, considering themselves duty-bound to serve Aima, Lady of Life, and their sense of mission meant that they were renowned for their resistance to corruption. He was confident they could trust Krozemund's judgment.

Burl had left shortly after the Examiner shared his initial impressions, ordering Kila to report for duty bright and early the next morning. She was obviously anxious to close the case, and Kila couldn't entirely blame her. He hadn't the slightest idea of her agenda, but no matter what it was she hoped to achieve, the undeniable truth was that she would be under immense pressure from the House Elders to wrap this up and quickly. Kila imagined they would hunker down in their Council Hall all night in order to strategize as to how they intended to handle the news of Toran Stowley's death and its disbursal through the city.

Kila had lingered at the station, wondering if the chief might approach him, but she had done nothing more than nod in his direction when she also left.

Transitioning from position three to position four, he considered everything that had happened that night. Was he seeing sinister intent everywhere he looked? Nothing about this case seemed immediately out of the ordinary, as sad as that fact might be, but something about it bothered him. The necessary parts were all there, neatly laid out in the proper order, and he wasn't certain whether he ought to read into that.

"The position of your left hand is a bit off," a soft voice floated down to him from his garden wall.

Startled, he dropped form, snapping into a defensive stance. It had been a long while since he had felt he ought to be on his guard at all times, and he found the reminder unpleasant. Why had he wished to be back in this wolves' den?

"Might you extend the courtesy of making yourself known?" he asked, fixing his eyes on the small, dark shadow at the top of his wall.

"Best if we don't do this here," the voice responded. "I mean you no harm, but I don't expect you to trust my word."

He said nothing in response to this, waiting for her—he had discerned that the voice was female, if nothing else—to show herself.

She landed on his lawn without making a sound. Rising from a crouch, she slowly started toward him, hands held parallel to her shoulders, palms facing him so that he could see she was unarmed. However, he wasn't willing to trust that she didn't have a weapon hidden about her person, and he maintained his position.