Jian Peak Abbey capped a spire of volcanic rock several hundred feet tall. Taller cliffs surrounded it on three sides. Steaming waterfalls fell over the cliffs. The River Aleph swirled around the spire's base and rushed south through a chasm. Primeval, twisting trees clung to every surface. It was a beautiful location – and well protected.
Stone steps had been cut into the valley's eastern walls. They wound through passageways carved into the rock. In many cases, those passageways intersected natural caverns. At the bottom of the steps, a narrow bridge crossed the Aleph. Even Baltukhasar preferred not to look down while crossing the bridge.
Once across, he faced more steps – this time going up.
Baltukhasar began to climb. The ascent was rich in spiritual theater. Stone gods appeared frequently enough to ensure their wrathful eyes covered every step. Enigmatic stupas decorated each point where the stairs switched back. Tablets beneath each stupa recorded the mantra pilgrims were meant to speak while they ascended to the next inscription. Here and there, alcoves in the volcanic rock housed hermit dens. Baltukhasar saw no hermits. He found it difficult to picture Jian Peak Abbey full of yesterday's disheveled ascetics instead of today's preening gigolos.
He turned a stone prayer wheel.
Baltukhasar had never outwardly been a spiritual person. Most everyone familiar with him would say he was not spiritual at all. The Circuit Chief could read old texts, however, and started to recite the mantras. The higher he climbed, the more layered and ornate everything became. Increasingly intricate mandalas appeared inscribed into the spire's rock. Near the top, platforms extended from the spire to offer a foundation for extreme contemplation.
The most pretentious of Sacred Mountain Conclave's abbeys was also its most inaccessible. At least to ordinary people and werewolves. The abbey's present disciples might have been dissipated hedonists – but they were also mhoddim prodigies. Stepping off a platform meant for meditation, a prodigy could flutter across the chasm to an opening in the eastern cliff's staircase.
Returning was even easier.
A dissipated hedonist could jump off a cliff and float down to the abbey directly.
Although Baltukhasar enjoyed smirking at Jian Peak's reputation, the abbot's death was troubling. That dirty old man had no morality and an abundance of lust, but he was a powerful ally when it came to protecting the Northwest Territory. The abbey's monks may not have climbed the stairs as often as they should, but they had done nothing to disturb the setting, either.
A suitably handsome gentleman in fine robes met Baltukhasar at the top of the stairs. He saluted respectfully, then identified himself as the Incense Master. He had been the one who discovered the abbot's body. In addition to himself, seven more monks lived in the abbey. A contingent of ordinary people with fantastic legs supported them. Jian Peak was the most pretentious, most inaccessible, and least populous of Sacred Mountain Conclave's sects.
The Incense Master gave Baltukhasar a tour. The gigolo monks hid nothing. The abbey's buildings were old and beautiful. The furnishings were contemporary and beautiful. The monks wore revealing clothing and plenty of bling. Most of them had exotic piercings in sensitive places.
Finally, Baltukhasar was shown through a hidden door, led down more steps, and ushered into a subterranean labyrinth. It was cold. The Incense Master explained that the unusual chill related to how air and mist moved around the valley. The Jormu Mountains north of the abbey created currents of extremely cold air. They were easy to miss during the day, particularly in summer, but were always present. Openings in the spire's northern flank captured some currents and swirled them through interior chambers – further cooling the rock.
"I see where this is headed," said Baltukhasar. "You've frozen the body."
"Frozen is an exaggeration," said the Incense Master. "But yes."
Upon reaching the body, Baltukhasar noted silently that the deceased was male, six feet tall, and in possession of spectacular musculature. His build was closer to that of the Circuit Chief than to the narrow male escorts who defined Jian Peak Abbey's brand.
"I've never seen him with his clothes off before," said Baltukhasar. "Which is ironic."
"The Abbot's build is not typical for our sect," agreed the Incense Master. "He became so focused on touching the sky that he overdid his physical conditioning. Perhaps that caused his demise, but it's hard to believe."
"I agree," said Baltukhasar. "But I'm not getting any whiff of unexplainable blood. There are no minute wounds, such as from needles. There's no poison. I can only barely tell he's dead at all."
Baltukhasar touched the body.
"No sign of disease," he said.
He tapped the body in several places and listened carefully.
"Is an autopsy necessary?" asked the Incense Master.
"No," said Baltukhasar. "If there was internal damage, I could smell it. I could also hear it."
"You don't believe he 'just died' either?" asked the Incense Master.
"I don't," said Baltukhasar. "It's good you kept the body in this condition. Go ahead with your rituals. Let's see the Abbot's chambers."
"Of course."
The Incense Master led to a walled enclosure connected to the main abbey by a covered walkway, but otherwise separate from the rest of the buildings. Only the Incense Master and Baltukhasar entered. The enclosure featured a sophisticated pond and garden. The abbot spent most of his time in a large rectangular building with a view of the garden. The embellishments were tasteful. The furniture was flashy but functional. There was a large bed, an antique wooden desk, and a pair of heavy wooden wardrobes set against one wall. Sliding panels provided access to the garden by way of a veranda. An ancient wisteria had taken over most of the veranda.
In contrast to their experience with the abbot's body, Baltukhasar's supernatural senses identified many things which were not right in the abbot's chambers. His eyes spotted scratches in wooden surfaces. They also spotted the remains of stains which had been wiped away in a rush. His nose caught the remnants of wild lust.
These things were not unexpected given Jian Peak Abbot's reputation.
But were they unexpected enough?
"Prior to the Abbot's death," asked Baltukhasar, "how many people regularly visited this room?"
"The Abbot met outside visitors in the main buildings," replied the Incense Master. "He preferred to sit on his throne and look imperial. As for this room, the Prior and I were the only ones with regular access. Pin Fun is the only disciple to ever be called back here."
"Pin Fun must be very pretty," said Baltukhasar.
"Breathtaking," agreed the Incense Master. "But he's not currently in the Abbey."
"Where is he?" asked Baltukhasar.
"The Abbot sent him and three others to Tianming Town."
"Why?"
"To recover a weapon of tremendous power," said the Incense Master.
"Which one?" asked Baltukhasar.
"Whichever weapon of tremendous power they found first."
"Could they succeed?" asked Baltukhasar.
"Certainly," said the Incense Master. "Mu Lang is our Golden Child and likely successor. His forms are stronger than his fighting instincts, but the potential is high. Pin Fun has poor fighting skills, but his shadow techniques are top tier. The other two are less glamorous, but fight hard."
"Did anyone on the approved list visit the night of the Abbot's death?"
"Not the night he died," said the Incense Master.
"Have you cleaned this room?" asked Baltukhasar.
"We kept it unchanged," said the Incense Master, "with the exception of removing the body."
"All you did to the bed was remove the body?"
"Yes," said the Incense Master.
"Is anything about the room different from the last time you remember it?"
The Incense Master thought about that for a long time. He moved around the room. He opened the wardrobes. Baltukhasar's nose caught a flood of suspicious stenches, but he said nothing. The Incense Master went out onto the veranda, came back into the room, and examined the desk.
"May I open the drawers?" he asked.
Baltukhasar gestured for him to proceed as he wished. The Incense Master executed a quick sequence of gestures on the wooden surfaces, then opened the drawers and examined their contents.
"Something is off," he agreed.
"You hadn't investigated the desk previously?" asked Baltukhasar.
"This room's only real security was its terrifying occupant," said the Incense Master. "But the Abbey's treasures are kept in the Reliquary Vault, not here, so I wasn't concerned."
"The Abbot's notes aren't valuable?" asked Baltukhasar.
"Priceless," said the Incense Master. "But only the Abbot understands them."
"So what's wrong?" asked Baltukhasar.
"Apart from these baubles," said the Incense Master, "there are only a few papers on the desk."
"You remember more?"
"Yes. Neatly stacked. The Abbot was precise about everything."
"He put them away?" asked Baltukhasar.
"Someone who was not precise put them away," said the Incense Master.
Baltukhasar inspected the drawers. He took out documents and sniffed. Yes. There were more suspicious aromas. He fanned the documents out on the desk.
"Even if it only had value to the Abbot," said Baltukhasar, "is anything missing?"
The Incense Master went through the documents carefully.
"Yes," he said. "I can't read them. But I can piece together what should be in sequence. There are several pages missing. I'm guessing, however, that you already knew something was amiss?"
Baltukhasar leaned down and gathered material from around the desk's legs. Standing up, he held out his palm. In it rested several puffs of conspicuously curly short hair.
"What was the Abbot's opinion of body hair?" he asked.
"He considered it a sign of bestial character," said the Incense Master. "Apologies."
"Does Pin Fun have any?"
"Of course not," said the Incense Master.
"Did the Abbot's dining habits change before his death?" asked Baltukhasar.
The Incense Master considered.
"Yes," he said. "Three or four days before his death, he started taking some food with him from the dining hall. It wasn't a remarkable amount. It was also not unprecedented, however, particularly when he exerted himself in his quest for the sky."
"He certainly exerted himself," said Baltukhasar. "The sky may not have been involved. There was a young man here, about my height. He had strong teeth and fingernails."
Baltukhasar indicated places where the edge of the desk had been bitten, and pointed out scratches on not only the desk and chair, but also the paneling behind the bed.
"He played fast and loose with personal hygiene," said Baltukhasar, "and received the benefit of a close shave. When not required for other purposes, he was stored in that wardrobe."
Baltukhasar walked to the wardrobe, pulled out several stacks of folded sheets and clothes, and then produced a wad of sheets in need of washing.
"His experiences were uncomfortable," said Baltukhasar, "but did not produce any serious injury. Almost no blood, but a fertile surplus of other substances as you might imagine."
"I might," agreed the Incense Master.
"As for the identity of this young man…."
Baltukhasar went onto the veranda, descended to the garden, and rummaged around in shrubbery around the veranda's edge.
He produced a few scraps of ratty fabric.
"I can't explain the 'why' of it," said Baltukhasar, "but I believe a member of Raggedy Star Alliance managed to cohabitate with your Abbot. He survived the experience, cleaned up the room, and fled."
The Incense Master took the revelations in stride.
"The Abbot had exotic tastes," he said. "Even if we assume he invited this young man in – he didn't tell me about it. But anyone who could get into and then out of the Abbey without me noticing is skilled."
"Raggedy Star Alliance fields the majority of thieves in the Floating World." said Baltukhasar.
"Pin Fun can't sneak by me," said the Incense Master. "Raggedy Star Alliance might have a couple members who are that talented. As for anyone more talented, all I can say is that the Poorest Beggar ain't a cute young thing."
"I agree the scenario is perplexing," said Baltukhasar. "However…."
He returned to the sheets in need of washing.
"Who else visited the abbey around the time of this guest's arrival?" he asked. "A few days before the Abbot's death?"
"There are often visitors," said the Incense Master. "I would have to check the record. Except one. The Count of Arlu visited two days before the Abbot's death."
Baltukhasar whistled.
"There's a name that's troubled me before," he said. "What did the Count want?"
"Unusually," said the Incense Master, "he wasn't here for the flower knights."
"He wanted something from the Abbot?" asked Baltukhasar.
"He wanted permission for an 'archaeological survey' of the Abbey," said the Incense Master. "An extraordinary sum was offered as incentive."
"The Abbot said no," said Baltukhasar. "How did the Count react?"
"He took the rejection in stride," said the Incense Master. "He's made this request several times. The Abbot refuses to contemplate any action which might disrupt the Abbey's energy flows while he is trying to touch the sky."
"Has the Count approached you again now that the Abbot is dead?" asked Baltukhasar.
"Not yet," said the Incense Master. "The Count is ahead of himself, anyway. This is Jian Peak Abbey! Our financial resources are at least as great as his."
"If poison had been involved," said Baltukhasar, "everything would make sense."
"Poison would be the best way to kill our Abbot," agreed the Incense Master. "But it would still require an extremely potent mixture. It would also require getting close. But then, the Count did get close."
"I'd like to survey the site," said Baltukhasar. "I'm not an archaeologist, and won't pay you."
"We might as well find whatever is here first," said the Incense Master.