Heirs of the Blade_ Shadows of the Apt_ Book Seven - Adiran Tchaikovsky [205]
‘A ceremony?’ Tynisa blinked at that, wondering if Che intended to stage a one-woman re-enactment of the opening of the Amphiophos or something. The sheer banality of this, and the thought of foolish, amiable Che, brought her out of her reverie, pushing away those thoughts of blood and honour that seemed to cling to her ever closer these days.
‘Perhaps I did not understand her.’ Lisan Dea shrugged bony shoulders. ‘Still, she was very insistent about wishing to speak with you there.’
And leave Alain? was the first thought that came to her, but some rebellious part of her wanted to seize this opportunity to absent herself, even for a brief while, because otherwise she would have to take action here, and she could feel the repercussions of that looming in her near future like a thunderhead. Today’s Tynisa, steeled with newfound purpose, did not shy from that necessity, but some part of the woman she had been until recently was trying to pull away.
But, no, Alain always came first.
A moment later came a recollection of who ‘the Turncoat’ was, and her stomach lurched. Che is with Gaved? Che was with the Wasp who had witnessed Achaeos’s deadly wounding at her hands. He would surely poison her against Tynisa, tell the impressionable Beetle . . . tell her . . .
Tell her the truth.
It was surprising just how great was the feeling of horror that now gripped her, welling up from a time past when she had still felt guilt and grief. Che, poor Che, her sister . . . her awkward, endearingly clumsy playmate. It took her wholly by surprise that having Che finally turned against her, that last door into her old life closed . . . it suddenly mattered more than Alain. She could not bear Che to think badly of her.
The spined, rigid part of her twisted in her grip for a moment and then settled into a new groove. There was an easy way out of this. Kill Gaved. Kill Gaved and Sef, and the problem would die with them.
Thirty-Six
Gaved had not been happy with the news.
‘You’ve called her here – to my house?’ he demanded. Che and Maure had come upon the three Wasp-kinden expatriates sharing a jar of wine and reminiscing about who could say what. From the voices heard as she approached, Varmen had been doing most of the talking.
‘I needed to get her away from the castle. There was not a chance that we could accomplish anything with the Salmae and their people listening at every door,’ Che protested.
‘What do you possibly expect to accomplish? That woman’s mad, dangerous and mad,’ Gaved said flatly. ‘She was shaky enough when I ran into her at Siriell’s Town but, believe me, something changed her over winter. You’ve no idea how difficult it was watching out for her during that last scrap with the bandits, because I had to make cursed sure I was well out of her reach at every moment. I know I’m on her list, Beetle. I could see that clear enough.’
‘Yes, something did happen over winter,’ Che confirmed, solemnly enough to quieten him. ‘I won’t try and explain what, because you’ll neither believe nor understand it . . .’ She broke off as someone entered the house, sliding aside the door panel. It was just Sef, and the Spider-kinden woman gazed at them curiously.
‘They’re bringing that killer here,’ Gaved informed her darkly.
Sef cocked her head at Che. They had never met before, but the Beetle girl had heard the stories of her remarkable origins. Out here in the Commonweal, she seemed no more than just a young Spider-kinden with unusually pale skin.
‘Ask her why,’ Gaved prompted. ‘She won’t tell me. Apparently I won’t understand.’ The burn scar on his chin had flushed dark.
‘She is possessed. A ghost is