The Tainted Cup

“As always, the letters shook and danced before my eyes, making it hard for me to put them together.”

Din’s description of his lack of reading proficiency is analogous to real-world dyslexia, which causes disconnection between written words, language sounds, and meaning. Din feels shame about his condition, but ultimately learns to embrace the idea that his cleverness in working around his reading differences is one of his primary assets. The novel thus challenges stigmas around learning disabilities in the real world, even though it takes place in a fantasy setting.

“[G]entryfolk […] own the most valuable thing in all the Empire […] Land. Takes a lot of dirt to grow all the plans and animals and reagents to make the Empire’s many alterations.”

Ana’s comment foreshadows the reveal that the Hazas allowed the Oypat crisis to go unchecked to improve the value of their own land. Moreover, it orients the fantastical elements of the novel (alterations and reagents) in real-world economics, which makes worldbuilding feel realistic and immersive.

“In fact, Din, I’d say you have the exact right appetite for bland, bloody-minded drudgery that makes an assistant investigator excel.”

Though Din takes Ana’s comment here as a barely disguised insult that makes him feel “far less pleased” (67) than her earlier praise of his good work, the overall arc of the novel suggests that Ana’s praise is genuine. The novel contends that the people willing to do inglorious work are the ones truly responsible for the Empire’s success.

“What about the next season? What about then?

That was what it was like to be a citizen of the Empire of Khanum, especially in the Outer Rim. You lived in endless anxiety, a constant state of crisis.

It often made it a little hard to go about your everyday tasks, frankly. What was the point of fetching food [when] a titan could break through the walls and kill you and a thousand others like you in a matter of hours?”

Din’s comment about the anxiety about living under the threat of the titans indicates these creatures’ role as an atmospheric influence in the novel, rather than a plot-based one (see Symbols & Motifs). Though the threat of the titans is omnipresent, particularly in Talagray, their capacity to breach the walls never actually majorly influences the mystery plot. The novel argues that there is abundant “point” in continuing to live despite this threat, as it may never manifest.

“Sen sez imperiya […] We all knew what it said: You are the Empire.

And, more important, we understood what that meant: We are all here because of what all of us do.”

The Empire’s motto is repeated many times within the world of the novel, where authority figures attempt to connect Empire-Building and the Everyman in an ineluctable way that prevents internecine conflict. Though the novel regularly reconsiders what is the true nature of the Empire, the characters framed in the text as moral authorities never waver on this point that communal work (rather than the influence of the privileged few) is the most important element of imperial aims.

“That’s the problem with the damned Empire these days […] all these complacent bastards think the only thing that matters is which tiny beast is dancing in your blood, altering your brain, making you see and feel and think differently. The person an enhancement is paired with is just as important as what enhancement they get. And we get some say in what kind of person we are, Din. We do not pop out of a mold. We change. We self-assemble.”

Ana’s assertion that a person is more than their magical alterations upholds Robert Jackson Bennett’s framing of his fantasy world as the background to a mystery novel, rather than presenting it as a fantasy novel with a mystery plot. The traits most important to each character’s role in the mystery—whether as investigator or villain—arise from their personality, history, desires, and expectations about the future, rather than their supernatural abilities or augmentations.

“Like so much of what the Empire does, [the bombards] are achievements of complexity—imagine the systems, the management, the coordination it takes.”

Ana’s comment here reifies the Empire’s emphasis on collaboration among its “everymen” for its greatness. Moreover, her admiration of the “systems” indicates that she has faith in the overall workings of the Empire, even if some of its elements are corrupt or inefficient. This makes the novel somewhat utopic rather than dystopic—evil, in Bennett’s text, comes from the failure of people subverting systems, not from the existence of systems and institutions themselves.

“[Uhad’s] eyes danced again as he summoned up his memories. An ugly sight. I couldn’t help but wonder—did it look so unsettling when I did it?”

Din’s discomfort at seeing Uhad work as an engraver introduces a level of body horror into the text. Though Din feels his own engraving as something naturally connected to his brain’s workings, seeing it from the outside reminds of him that his alteration is not natural, but rather uncanny.

“It’s like a horse race, boy. They’re all here to make their bets. And if they bet right, they can win a lifetime of fortune. Sounds unfair, maybe, but I’m not so sure.’ He snorted and spat. ‘Might be the only way the gentry learns what fear is, to live in the shadow of the sea walls.”

Miljin’s comments about the presence of the gentry in Talagray highlights the corruption of the patronage system. He suggests, by comparing this system to a “horse race,” that the gentry dehumanize Iyalet officers. However, the fact that this may also provide some fairness by luring the gentry to the dangerous sea walls offers a counterpoint to the end of the novel, which frames getting rid of patronage as a unilateral victory. The gentry will actually suffer less from such a change, as they will remain far away from danger.

“How odd it was to meet your maker in this fashion; for all the wonders of the Empire—from Sublimes like myself, to cracklers and fretvines and Miljin’s muscles—came from the blood of such beings.”

Din points out the symbiotic nature between the Empire and the titans. For all that the titans pose an enormous threat to humans, they also provide (unwillingly, via their blood) the magic that humans use to alter themselves. The titans, therefore, though rarely physically present in the novel, are omnipresent in its magical construction.

“‘Oh,’ I said sheepishly. ‘Well. I don’t really know how [to pick locks], ma’am. I just memorize the movements […].’

She stared at me, outraged. ‘That […] that is basically the goddamn definition of “knows how to pick locks,” boy!’”

Ana rejects Din’s distinction between memorizing how to do a thing and “knowing” how to do that thing from experience and training. Though the novel does not wholly support either her or Din’s stance—Miljin, for example, points out that knowing how to fight with swords is not the same as memorizing movements because it is about making strategic and tactical decisions while in combat—her insistence helps Din learn to take more ownership of his skills, even those he has gained via his engraver augmentation.

“We’re the fucking Iudex, Din! We’re the ones who watch the Empire on behalf of the Empire!”

Ana’s description of the role of the Iudex illustrates the tension in the novel’s faith in systems. Though the text overall posits that Khanum’s systems are ethical when they work properly, the existence of the Iudex shows the propensity of individual humans to disrupt these systems—whether by incompetence or by design. Uhad’s villainy shows that this kind of subversion can happen within the Iudex, too; only individual human effort (here, by Ana and Din) can repair unethical individual meddling in institutions.

“How queer it suddenly felt: I’d been a model officer for almost all my career, but I had to join the Iudex to become a true criminal.”

This anxiety about becoming a “criminal” indicates Din’s shifting perspective on honesty, legality, and morality in the novel—he goes from someone rigidly adhering to rules to someone who understands when it is morally correct to break rules to achieve a just end. The passage also offers a bit of ironic foreshadowing, as Din later reveals that he committed a crime (breaking into test offices and stealing exam copies) to join the Iudex in the first place.

“‘You must, and I mean must, step carefully […] Particularly if you happen to find yourself in the presence of a member of the family! I think it quite unlikely—the Hazas remain very cloistered […].’

‘It is Fayazi Haza [to see you], ma’am.’”

Vashta’s insistence that Ana will not encounter a member of the Haza family moments before Fayazi Haza arrives offers an ironic, comedic juxtaposition. This illustrates the text’s sense of wry humor despite its serious subject matter, which lightens the tone of the novel.

“[Fayazi’s] six bodyguards clanked along behind her […] bound up in complex plate armor that was nothing like what they used in the Legion—custom stuff, then, not refurbished or reused. Everything about them seemed expensive.”

Din’s description of Fayazi’s bodyguards as better equipped than Legionnaires who fight titans highlights the extremity of the Hazas’ wealth. His note that the guards themselves seem “expensive” alludes to the fact that although the Hazas care about their employees’ appearances, they perceive their underlings as objects rather than valuing them as people.

“What a tool cynicism is to the corrupt, claiming the whole of the creation is broken and fraudulent, and thus we are all excused to indulge in whatever sins we wish—for what’s a little more unfairness, in this unfair world? Wise you were, Din, to shut your ears to it.”

Ana here breaks down the implied logic in Fayazi’s bid for Din’s sympathy, pointing out that it is not moral to commit injustice even to countermand greater injustice. Ana’s argument foreshadows the novel’s rejection of Uhad’s claim that his desire to kill Blas and Kaygi was righteous vengeance rather than system-circumventing vigilantism.

“The first rule of the Engineers and the Apoths—outside of Talagray, of course—is to do no harm.”

Nusis’s explanation why the Oypat cure could not proceed without testing echoes the real-world Hippocratic Oath taken by doctors. Nusis thus helps readers more fully understand the role of Engineers and Apoths in Khanum society. Her aside that “of course” Talagray is exempt from this vow highlights the casual, widespread acceptance of the city’s corruption.

“And that was that. The Empire was saved. And the fertile fields and little towns of Oypat are no more.”

Nusis’s grim summary indicates her—and the novel’s—discomfort with the notion of sacrificing the few for the many. While abandoning Oypat is framed as an unquestioned evil in the novel, once the true story is revealed, the novel overall struggles with the tension between raising up those who risk their lives for the Empire, pointing out the injustice that risk is not equally shared among all social classes, and obscuring any potential alternative in Khanum’s fight against the titans. The last of these options aligns with imperial aims by being a shortcut to hold together disparate ethnic groups under the same banner.

“‘Are we allowed to be here?’ I wondered aloud.

‘Allowed?’ Kitlan snorted contemptuously. ‘No one bothers to fence off these lands, Signum. You’d have to be a fool to traipse in thoughtlessly.’”

Kitlan’s scoffing dismissal of Din’s concern suggests that it is absurd to worry about human laws when uncontrollable natural phenomena are in play. The danger of the land close to the sea walls is thus presented as so extreme and evident that creating manmade rules would be superfluous.

“I stared down at my new boots, which were no longer identifiably new, being so caked with mud and stained from the Plains.”

Din’s boots are a metaphor for his adventure in the novel. Din, too, is no longer “new” to his work—and ends his apprenticeship at the end of the novel—but though he is “stained” with experience and newfound understanding of the “mud” that corruption can carry, the novel does not imply that this is negative. Instead, it is posited as giving him increased perspective and insight.

“‘I am here to protect the Empire, Immunis,’ said Vashta quietly. ‘Not deliver justice. That is not the purview of my Iyalet, and justice is not always easy to come by in such times.’”

Vashta’s comments reveal the tension between the roles of the different Iyalets. As a Legionnaire, Vashta is tasked with protecting Talagray against titans. As an Iudex, Ana seeks justice in intra-human conflicts. The novel ultimately gives both women their desires and does not suggest that one is more important than the other. Instead, it is a matter of timing: Safety from the titans is more urgent, so justice must wait until the bigger threat is handled.

“Civilization is often a task that is only barely managed. But harden your heart and slow your blood. The towers of justice are built one brick at a time. We have more to build yet.”

Ana here equates civilization with projects of justice. Though such justice is hard-won, she implies, there is value in doing the work, however slow. This reinforces the novel’s framing of inglorious work as the most important labor to build a civilization.

“We do these ugly, dull things for a reason—to make a space where folk can live, celebrate, and know joy and love.”

Ana here offers an answer to Din’s internal question in Chapter 4 about the “point” of going through daily motions despite the constant threat of death. That this answer comes at the novel’s conclusion, when the question comes at its start, contributes to the sense that solving the crime is materially important, and that true change will come from the investigators’ accomplishments—thus offering an optimistic ending to the text.