A Trade of Blood

Brilliant detective Ana Dolabra must prove a man''s innocence to stop a civil war in the third book of the series that began with “Great fantasy detective stories are too rare, but Bennett--[a] rising star of fantasy--more than delivers.” In the canton of Sapirdad, two of the Empire’s most powerful families are moments away from going to war with each other, their hundreds of retainers gathered with swords drawn. If blood is spilled, the whole of the empire may be plunged into starvation and chaos. To deescalate matters, someone must do the impossible: prove that one family’s eldest son is innocent of a gruesome and unforgivable murder, despite the incontrovertible evidence against him. It is with this undertaking that the great detective Ana Dolabra is tasked, her assistant Din at her side--and the two find themselves racing with great speed and little dignity to the scene. As ever, the impossible proves little obstacle for the deadly combination of Ana’s intellect and Din’s keen eye, and mere hours after riding into the dusty town, Ana glimpses the greater pattern behind the crime. A deeper, subtler web of death is being woven in plain sight, by a mastermind with an ancient magical technology at his disposal. But even Ana''s uncanny insight is of little use when each new suspect she uncovers ends up dead--with each new killing calculated to bring tensions between the two rival clans past the boiling point. And as Din;pursues their adversary through the canton''s wild ranges, sprawling ranches, and reeking slaughterhouses, he;finds his loyalties divided in unexpected ways.

Autorentext
Robert Jackson Bennett is the author of the bestselling Ana and Din series, the first book of which, The Tainted Cup, won the Hugo Award for Best Novel and the World Fantasy Award for Best Novel and was an Edgar Award finalist. Previously, his Founders Trilogy and his Divine Cities trilogy were both Hugo Award finalists in the Best Series category. His work has received the Edgar Award, the Shirley Jackson Award, and the Philip K. Dick Citation for Excellence, and has been shortlisted numerous times for the World Fantasy and Locus awards. He lives in Austin, Texas, with his family.

Klappentext

INSTANT NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Detective Ana Dolabra must prove a condemned man’s innocence and confront a terrifying magical technology in this fantasy-mystery from the author of The Tainted Cup, winner of the Hugo and World Fantasy awards.

“Wildly imaginative, sometimes pointed, often hair-raising, and very entertaining, a series that has been a hit with everyone I’ve recommended it to.”—Laura Miller, Slate

The heir to one of the Empire’s most powerful families sits in jail, accused of murder. His hands are covered in the victim’s blood, and he can neither deny his guilt nor explain his actions.

But if the great detective Ana Dolabra cannot save him from the noose, the farming canton of Sapirdad will explode into war, threatening to plunge the whole Empire into starvation and chaos.

As Ana investigates—her assistant Dinios Kol, as ever, acting as her eyes and ears—she fears her task is even more daunting than it seemed. For this murder is just the latest in a deeper, subtler web of death, woven by a mastermind with an ancient weapon at his disposal.

With their customary skill, Ana and Din pursue their adversary through the canton’s wild ranges, sprawling ranches, and reeking slaughterhouses. Yet even they are not prepared to learn the horrifying secret behind their opponent’s powers.

Leseprobe
Chapter 1

“It is an inarguable truth, you know,” said Ana, “that most people are absolutely enthralled by dead girls.”

I cracked my eyes and gazed at the carriage ceiling, certain I’d misheard this comment. I waited, listening to the rumble of the wheels and the crackling of the horses’ hooves on the gravel road.

Perhaps she would stop now, I thought. Perhaps there would be no more of it.

I shut my eyes and sought my way back to sleep.

“In fact, did you know, Din . . .” said Ana.

I opened them again.

“Did you know, for example, that out of all the recipients of the Order of Kibiri—the highest possible honor given to law-keeping imperial officers—that nearly eleven percent of the recipients earned this honor for resolving the murder of a young girl?”

“Is that so, ma’am?” I said, hoping to satisfy her into silence.

Yet she continued: “Oh, yes! That death, that very specific death, which is a mere fraction of all unlawful activity across all the Empire—that is given astonishingly disproportionate commendation! If you pursue, oh, corruption, or malfeasance, or lethal negligence—any one of which could cause harms far beyond the untimely expiration of one single goddamn comely nubile—then all are apparently indifferent to you! Instead, countless justiciars jump at the mention of a dead young girl, much as a hunter might leap to his feet at the glimpse of a stag—for that way lies speedy elevation!”

I readjusted the pillow I’d made of my Iudex coat. “How upsetting, ma’am.”

“Yes. Very morbid. Very ghastly, Din. Honestly, the more I think on it, the more disturbed I grow.”

She crossed her arms, turned her blindfolded head to the corner of the carriage, and let out a great huff.

We rumbled on. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. That had to be the end of it, surely.

I shut my eyes.

“But the other kind of death . . .” she snarled.

“Ohh,” I murmured.

“. . . that gets the most amount of ridiculous treatment, is most assuredly a death among the gentry!”

I decided to surrender entirely and sat forward, yawning. I should have known better than to hope: Ana nearly always talked throughout every minute of a carriage ride, no matter how long.

“You could be a goddamn onion farmer,” continued Ana, “covered in shit from collar to crotch, and yet if word were to strike your ear about the murder of some flouncing little princeling, a debauched dandy who’d never deign to step foot in the same f***ing room as you, you’d sweep your hat from your head, press it to your breast, and soulfully murmur—Oh, oh! What evil has befallen our realm this day? ” She scoffed. “And yet—and yet!—somehow, here we are, Din!” She pounded the wall of the carriage with a fist. “Trundling through bean field after bean field, dashing off to look at a corpse that is not only the body of a dead girl, but a dead gentry girl! I wonder what awful crime I have committed to earn the ire of the fates in this fashion!”

A call from our carriage’s pilot: “Need anything, sir?”

I cracked the window and called out, “No, all is well.”

“It’s just I thought I heard pounding, sir.”

“All is well!” I said and shut the window with a snap.

“Is it?” demanded Ana. “Is it well? I find I disagree! For do you know what truly galls me about this particular task that has been heaped upon us?”

I watched her finger tremble with rage in the dim light of our carriage. I did some dour calculations in my mind.

We still had quite a ways to go. The more time she had to build up her fury, the worse her behavior would be when we arrived.

“I assume, ma’am,” I said, sighing, “it is that you do not find this murder we’ve been assigned to be interesting?”

“Correct!” she cried. “Not interesting, not at all! If you have a dead girl…