Honor to the Good Boy (Part 3 of 4)
Inquisitor Aysa Kowsari stared down into the old ice chest. Slowly, she turned to the olive-skinned youth who’d summoned her. “Private, your letter said you’d stolen a corpse.”
“I never said he was human.” Emre Uzun scratched his beard. Aysa suspected the seventeen-year-old had grown it out to look like an adult, but nervous tics like this undermined the image. “You wouldn’t have come if I’d said he was a hyena.”
“Of course I'd have come. I’m a hyena person. I just would have taken time to fix my makeup first.” Aysa tucked her auburn hair back behind her ears. Bracing her good arm against the wall behind the ice chest, she bent low to inspect the poor creature.
The cellar’s lone lightbulb threw shadows over the interior of the ice chest. Still, Aysa could tell that the hyena was in remarkably good shape. The bullet that killed him had entered through his left eye, but there was no messy exit wound. His only other injury was the chunk missing from his left ear. Aysa’s gaze drifted from the hyena’s ear to his body armor. The bright orange, carmot-lined vest clearly identified him as property of the Imperial Security Corps. A patch designated him as a contraband sniffer.
You’re out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you?
Ead enclaves were semi-autonomous from the rest of the Kimian Empire. The enclave here in the city of Yanülevi was no exception. Only the Inquisition could come and go as they pleased. The most Security could do was operate checkpoints outside of an enclave’s gates to ensure that people left the enclave’s vices in the enclave. To make matters worse for this poor creature, Ead tribesmen had a near-universal distaste for hyenas. He was lucky the first tribesmen to find him had been Inquisition personnel. At least they’d only shot him, rather than beating him to death and dumping his body into the harbor.
“All right. Let’s leave him in peace for a bit.” Aysa moved back so Emre could close the ice chest. “Walk me through what happened.”
“Did you hear about the incident yesterday?”
Aysa arched a brow. “Do you think a broken arm makes me deaf? It was on the evening news.”
And what a strange news cycle it had been. Bardasht Arvah, the Harvest of Souls, had always been a day for ghost stories. People claimed loved ones appeared to them for final farewells, and they blamed accidents on damned souls fleeing final judgment. So when the whole Ead enclave and half the port felt an earthquake and heard a hellish hissing, people stopped what they were doing and listened. When Ead tribesmen reported an alleyway suddenly looked like it had been shelled with artillery, the rumors got out of hand. By the time Aysa had gotten Emre’s letter, every radio show in the city insisted a legion of the damned had made their last stand inside the enclave.
Ghosts didn’t do that kind of damage, of course. Gods did. Not that the Inquisition would go public with that information, especially not on a holy day.
“Well,” Emre began, “Captain Ekmekçi had brought me on a ride-along. We were on the other side of the enclave when we heard the commotion. By the time we got across the Şans Yolu, the noise had died down. All we found were a flattened truck, the hyena, and four cambions who’d been given enough opium to drop a hippo. Well, them, plus some smugglers who fled past us on our way in. There are still inquisitors trying to round them up.”
Aysa quietly assembled the pieces. People born with Cambionic Disorder drained magic from their surroundings. If enough of them were gathered around a magical object or entity, the insulating effect rivaled that of meters of gold plating. Those smugglers must have been moving something dangerous enough to warrant a god’s direct intervention.
“And this Ekmekçi took one look at all the ruined buildings, thought, ‘Ah, yes, the hyena is responsible,’ and shot him?” Aysa asked.
Emre averted his gaze. “Not exactly.”
“It's a yes or no question, Private.”
“He was dragging the cambions out of harm’s way. Initially, though …” Emre shuffled his feet. “It looked like we’d caught him trying to rip off a boy’s arm. Captain Ekmekçi was just trying to protect the kid.”
Aysa let out a long breath and admitted, “I might have done the same. What happened next?”
“We brought the body back to the local chapterhouse as evidence. I went looking for his handler.” Emre pulled a notebook from the pocket of his black kurta. “That would be Sergeant Qulu Budaqov. He says Mehdi - the hyena – started acting strangely after inspecting a cargo truck. Mehdi wriggled away from him when he guard was down and ran off into the enclave.”
“I assume Budaqov wants Mehdi back?”
Emre nodded. “But the tribe chieftains are demanding the Inquisition hand the corpse over to them instead. A lot of people saw Mehdi running across town. The chieftains want to send a message so Security won’t let it happen again.”
As political power plays went, it wasn’t the pettiest Aysa had ever seen, but it was close. She also knew the Inquisition would play along. Their ability to preserve the moral and social fabric of the Empire depended on cooperation from local leaders. A dead hyena wasn't worth stirring up bad blood.
“So you broke into the evidence lockup and stole a corpse,” Aysa concluded.
“I asked myself what you would do,” Emre muttered sheepishly.
Aysa patted his arm. “And I couldn't be more proud, Private. It’s just I would also have planned farther ahead than, ‘Hide the body in my uncle’s old ice chest.’ I know your family’s rich enough for a freezer.”
“Can you help me, Major?” Emre asked.
“You’re on your own with the freezer. As for getting Mehdi home …”
This needed to be handled delicately. If the Ead chieftains hadn't made a fuss already, it would have been a simple matter of throwing Mehdi in a trunk, driving out of the enclave, and then leaving him for Security to find. Maybe that could still work, except the Security Corps was very committed to their working animals. They’d hold a memorial service. It would only be a matter of time before the enclave chieftains caught wind of it and assumed the Inquisition had deliberately scorned the wishes of the Ead.
What we need is counterpressure.
“Has Ekmekçi filed her incident report already?” Aysa asked.
“Yes, Major.”
“Did she make note of Mehdi pulling the cambions away from the destruction? And about the men at the scene being smugglers?”
Emre frowned. “I’m not sure, but I overheard her discussing it with some other inquisitors.”
That would be good enough for getting started. Aysa could get her hands on the report and confirm its wording later. Offering Emre a reassuring smile, Aysa instructed, “Keep Mehdi cold, Private. We’ve got a rough road ahead, but within ten days, I guarantee he’ll be home.”
* * * * *
Ten days would be fast work, even for Aysa, but she knew it could be done. Anxiety over yesterday’s mysterious incident gave her a place to start. The question was which switches she could flip to convert anxiety into anger and action.
Thankfully, the Yanülevi Chapter of the Imperial Inquisition kept a theologian in the basement.
“Salam, Yavari,” Aysa greeted him, flouncing into the oversized closet that served as his office.
A grim-faced, clean-shaven man sat at an aluminum desk. Like her, he was jasper-skinned and in his early thirties, though his dour demeanor made him seem twenty years older. His black khalat and turban were perfectly within uniform regulations. The bundle of dried lavender hanging in the ceiling and the small bookshelf of religious literature squeezed against the left wall were the only signs of character he’d imposed upon the space.
Without looking up from the report in his hands, Yavari groused, “You could at least knock before entering.”
“Yes, well, my good hand is full.” Aysa placed a glass jar filled with artisanal gaz on his desk. “Nooshe jân.”
Jade eyes flickered from the report to the jar. “Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, Kowsari, but I’m not a nougat person.”
“Oh, I know. This is for me. I noticed the disturbing lack of edibles during my previous visits.”
“Are you planning on cracking my safe again?”
“Not if you’re here when I need something.” Aysa sat on the desk, next to the gaz jar. She fished out a piece and worked off the wrapper with her teeth before continuing. “But I’m not here to borrow relics today. I have a theological question.”
There was something oddly endearing about the play of emotions across Yavari’s face. He was smart enough to know it wouldn’t just be a question, and he knew Aysa well enough to expect trouble. At the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. He was, after all, the keeper of the Manifestation Register. Monitoring and explaining the activities of the gods was the only reason the Inquisition kept him around.
“Go on,” he relented.
“Could a god use an animal to physically manifest? Yazata or daeva, doesn’t matter whi-”
“No.”
Aysa pressed, “Not even an animal associated with them? Or on a holy day? Say, the Shepherd of Dust using a hyena on Bardasht Arvah?”
Yavari’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know something I don’t about the incident in the Ead enclave?”
“Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.” Aysa popped the gaz into her mouth.
He sighed, shook his head, and launched into a sermon. “Animals don’t have free will. They can think and make decisions, of course, but they can’t sin. Without that, nothing they do can will let in a daevas, and a virtuous act isn’t consequential enough to let in a yazata.”
Aysa swallowed her mouthful of rose-flavored nougat. “Does the association or the holy day matter at all?”
“I believe it’s your turn.” Yavari folded his arms.
That was Yavari’s other endearing quality: his bullheadedness. It made things more fun. Aysa summarized the situation with Emre.
Yavari leaned back in his chair, eyes staring blankly at the dried lavender. “Do you know why Shepherd clerics bless hyenas on Bardasht Arvah?”
“Something to do with the Nishesaye Ghazavat?” she suggested, referring to the spectral hyenas who hunted lost souls on the Shepherd’s behalf.
“Canonically? No. Bardasht Arvah is a day of transition. Summer transmutes into autumn, and the lingering dead make the crossing to the Shepherd’s domain. The blessing acknowledges that hyenas, as carrion eaters, play a role in transitioning the dregs of death into the material for new life.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but.’”
“Apocrypha says you’re right on the money. Some even believe that the Nishesaye Ghazavat are all hyenas who died on Bardasht Arvah.” Yavari straightened in his chair. “If you’re really trying to ask me if this hyena was chasing a daeva, then I’d say, ‘Yes.’ That’s quite possible.”
Aysa slid off his desk. “Sounds like I just need to find a cleric who will testify to blessing Mehdi.”
Yavari frowned. “I already hate where this is going.”
“Oh, relax. I’m not asking you to get involved.” Aysa took a step towards the door.
He sprang up and thrust an arm in front of her. “What’s your plan? Convince people to venerate an animal as a martyr, then send a mob to twist our superiors’ arms?”
“They’re not going to twist anyone’s arm. They’ll just be the catalyst.” Aysa sized Yavari up. He wasn’t much bigger than her, but he was also trained in the martial art of Black Hand. If he decided to twist her arm and drag her upstairs to expose her plan, she couldn’t stop him. “Will you allow that?”
“That depends on what you’re really up to,” he said quietly.
“For once, nothing.”
Yavari’s brow furrowed.
Aysa sighed. “Is it enough that I’m a hyena person and don’t want the Ead chieftains to desecrate its corpse?”
“I’m sure you are, and I’m sure you don’t. I’m also sure you’re not telling me the full story. You do have a precedent for that.”
“How about this, then: it’s for Emre. He knows that what his people will do to Mehdi isn’t right, and now he’s gotten in over his head trying to stop it. The best way to get him back out is to help him get Mehdi home.” She narrowed her eyes. “Bending the rules to get a kid out of trouble is something we both have a precedent for.”
Yavari held her gaze. Ever so slowly, he lowered his arm. “Show me the hyena. I’ll decide what I’m going to do once I’ve seen him for myself.”
Thank you all for joining for Part 3! The story concludes on October 14th with Part 4. I hope you’ll join me for the end of Mehdi’s journey!