“So that’s where the ghost came from,” I said.

“Where else?” Vanth asked.

“Yeah, I should’ve known. But they only tell you crystallized murder is worth an instant death sentence, you know? They don’t tell you it’s a person in there.”

“This is why education is important. The official position is that the less citizens know, the easier it is for them to follow the law, but I’m not entirely sure this is supported by evidence.”

You could tell Vanth was a big deal: I would never have dared coming so close to criticizing the Megarchon on a Sabrewing’s hearing distance. Some people just don’t have to worry about being sacked, never mind something worse.

“As you can imagine,” Vanth went on, “it’s not easy to open the gates, but death will work every time.”

“Yeah, makes sense.” I thought of him pricking his finger to help the ghost cross. And of him just clapping his hands to send the needleteeth away. Your average necromancer couldn’t hope to pull off stunts like those. “An iron blade shall win them back.”

Vanth almost-smiled.

“I don’t follow,” Valentino said.

“Oh, it’s that ditty about Their Illustrious Highnesses. You’ve never heard it?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be old. Anyway, do necromancers murder someone every single time they want to open the gates? That sounds—unwieldy.”

“Certainly, keeping a live human around to sacrifice them at the right time is a huge hassle. If you destroy a crystallized murder with the right procedure, though, you can easily summon whatever you want from the other side.”

“That’s pretty clever,” I said tentatively, “if immoral.”

“Clever indeed.” He smiled sadly. “If only humans were clever and moral more often.”

I didn’t really want to make the next question, but I just had to know. “So the person inside the crystallized murder, are they—aware?”

“They’re frozen in time, so we can only hope they feel nothing. It’s an interesting question, though. I’ll ask one of them if I can, but it’s unkind to prod dead people with invasive questions. And that’s assuming they remember clearly to begin with. Violent death is of course unpleasant, and more often than not confusing as well.”

Not what I’d expect from one of the Megarchon’s minions. In my experience, the best you could hope from them before crossing the gates was simply being overlooked.

Our main course and salad arrived, so I hastened to change the subject to something that wouldn’t turn my stomach.

“This, my friends, is olluquito con carne.” I picked up a forkful of stir-fry. “A potato-like thing boiled and then fried with jerky.”

“Potato-like thing?” Vanth barely lifted his voice above a whisper, as if he couldn’t even stand to hear those words. “You mean a tuber.”

“That’s right.”

“Are they supposed to taste like beets?” Valentino asked. 

“Yeah, they do taste kinda like beets.”

“Oh, good. They’re actually quite tasty, don’t get me wrong. It’s just—unexpected.”

The stir-fry came with a side of rice. I dumped a huge spoonful of llajwa on top of it before passing the sauce on to Vanth. Spicy rice, comfort for a weary heart. The salad was k’allu, which Valentino had had at home but Vanth hadn’t.

“There’s spicy peppers in the salad,” I said. “If you don't want them, I'll have them.”

Vanth spooned sauce on a side of his plate with his pinky out, then passed it to Valentino. “Only a child would do that.”

“Aw, you shouldn't force yourself to eat things you don't like. Especially spicy things. Besides, I like those peppers. They’re slightly less spicy than the ones we grow at home, but juicy.”

“I do enjoy a fair level of spice, though. The beef, I must say, is rather excellent.”

“Oh, it's llama! Isn't it good, though? Tourists will either love it or want nothing to do with it. But of course you're not tourists.”

“What are we?” he asked.

“Guests.”

While I thoroughly stirred the sauce into the rice, Vanth delivered a heaped spoonful of k’allu on my plate. “You should have more salad.”

“Well, if you say so. Hope you don’t dislike sheep cheese.”

“What, no llama cheese?”

“I don’t think that’s a thing, sorry.”

“Likely for the best. Sheep cheese is indeed to my liking, especially if it’s sharp.”

To be perfectly honest, I didn't like the hotel’s cheese as much as ours. Slightly too acidic? But then, I wouldn’t even pretend to be unbiased. Homemade food is simply best.

I’d rather leave all necromancy behind for the remain of our meal, but I just happened to think of something else and had to bring it up before I forgot.

“Do you think we could use these fragments to find out the ghost’s identity?”

“For better or worse, what remains after the crystal's broken is simply an echo of the strongest emotions it contained. Certainly nothing about the personality of the human it trapped. The ghost’s name is Karolina Leni, if that means anything to you.”

“Oh. No it doesn’t. I suppose she didn’t happen to know who murdered her?”

“Is it ever that easy? I must thank you, though. I’ve been far too remiss on investigating her.”

“No need to thank me.” I basked on smugness for a moment. “It was the necromancer who did it, right? Please tell me there's no black market trade on crystallized murder.”

“There isn’t one. A crystalized murder can explode in your hands at the briefest distraction. Passing them from hand to hand would only cause many amateur necromancers to blow themselves up—no big loss, admittedly. On the other hand, a skilled necromancer can hold on to a crystalized murder or several for quite a long time. Years even.”

Well, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. Not that I really expected to find the necromancer that way, but still.

Did I really want to hold on to the fragments, then? I mean, I’d rather not. But Vanth didn’t seem to have any use for them, and they might just come in handy, and whatever he said, the miasma was practically gone. So in the end, I got them back.

“Maybe this’ll help me draw the necromancer out,” I said.

“What is Your Excellency talking about?” Valentino asked. He sounded curious rather than critical, so I explained our plan. “I see. Your Excellency is very brave.”

Well, I did like the sound of a handsome man calling me brave, even if he was one of the Megarchon’s lackeys. On the other hand, Vanth looked tense. Well, well. Not amused by someone else toying with his prey, was he? I stretched out a leg and touched his foot under the table.

He moved it away.

“If you say so,” I replied, looking at Valentino and knowing Vanth wouldn’t miss a word. “I might have second thoughts in the end, though.”

The way Vanth looked at me, I was surprised the table hadn’t frosted over. The waiter arrived with our soup, professionally ignoring anything that might be happening at our table.

Vanth tried a spoonful and his eyes lit up. “I don’t suppose you knew peanut soup is my favorite.”

“Of course not. I don’t suppose you’ve tried inchicapi de gallina before, though?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s my favorite soup too, though it’s not a common treat for me. By the way, Hotel Rekul doesn’t always live up to the standards it pretends, but the soup stock is properly made with hen, cooked real slow until it’s more tender than the tenderest chicken. It’s so good with peanut, too.”

“I did say you knew what was good,” Vanth said.

He really had to go and be smug about that too, didn’t he? Now he was asking for trouble.

“Does Your Illustrious Highness think we have good chances to find the necromancer?”

“Honestly, it’s too early to tell.”

“I see. His Illustrious Highness seems to doubt my ability to draw anybody’s attention.” I smiled innocently. “Your Illustrious Highness, would you consider me unmemorable?”

I refused to look away from Vanth's indifferent eyes, but I swear Valentino was beaming with amusement.

“Far be it from me to doubt Your Excellency’s word,” Vanth said.

I smiled pleasantly. “Well, Your Illustrious Highness will find out for sure before long.”