The Enterprise of Death - Jesse Bullington [161]
“Yes,” said Carandini.
“And your associate, Breanne, dealt with him?”
“Yes.”
“I must speak with her!”
“No.” Carandini smiled, showing his fangs again. “You speak with me.”
“Oh. Well, you tell me, then—what was he doing here?”
“What?” Carandini blinked at her. “The same thing I presume you’ve come for.”
“And what’s that?” asked Awa.
“To find a way to break the curse your tutor has afflicted you with, to postpone or prevent the loss of your body and soul.” Carandini looked warily at her. “Isn’t that why you sought us out?”
“Oh! That would be wonderful!” Much as she wanted to indulge her curiosity, Awa had resolved to be as forthright with the dead as they were with her, and that meant honest answers given at the time of asking. “I just came here to ask for your help with my, my lover. She was the one in the sack, upstairs? She’s dying and so I killed her, but only a little, and I hoped you would turn her into one of you before she dies all the way. I don’t want her to start rotting, and the book said—”
Carandini shook his head. “You sought us out to help with your girlfriend?”
“Well, yes. But since I’m here and you know about everything having to do with my tutor, why don’t we talk about that instead and deal with Chloé later?”
“Chloé’s your lover?”
“Yes. In the sack.”
“Very well,” said Carandini, throwing his hands in the air. “Ask away.”
“Well, first of all, why are you so helpful?” Awa sat on one of the benches.
“Because I must,” said Carandini. “I am compelled. And besides that, your tutor is an old enemy. He is a cheat. He came here long, long ago, volunteering an alliance. We accepted, despite our caution in aligning ourselves with a breather, and soon enough he had taken what he could and snuck off instead of putting in the years of labor he had promised. Indicative of your type, was he, more concerned with personal advancement than the common good. The hunt for knowledge oughtn’t to be competitive.” Carandini glared at Awa. “ Ought not be competitive.”
“I agree! Really! And I’ll do what I can to help, and—what was that about being compelled to help? The ward you mentioned, the curse that keeps the dead from harming me?” Awa narrowed her eyes at Carandini. “How would you treat me if the ward did not compel you to this or that?”
“I would peel you like an onion,” said Carandini, clearly overjoyed she had asked. Those eyes, pink and shiny as salmon flesh, came alive in a way the rest of him never would, and his bright red tongue flicked over his ivory teeth. “I would commandeer an entire theatre to take you apart, to find out how his wards work. Of course, if you did not have the ward I wouldn’t have anything to study, which is a paradox. What was I saying? No, I would just kill you, I think, for your audacity, for one, in coming here to ask for assistance with your … relationship, but also because it’s the only way to thwart him, I think, but then he, then you … another paradox.” Carandini looked confused.
“Only way to thwart him?” The hope he had fostered in her quickly felt the pinch of frost. “Of course you don’t know another way, otherwise my predecessor, this Walther, would not have been possessed. But obviously he was.”
“Obvious now,” said Carandini. “The boy stood a decent chance, to hear Breanne tell it.”
“But you won’t let me hear Breanne tell it.”
“No.”
“What did she do for him? How did she deal with him, as you said?”
“The issue,” Carandini sniffed, “is that if you die it would probably thwart him, indeed, it is likely the only way to thwart him, but that pesky ward prevents us from counseling such a course, or allowing you to consider it. Breanne was forced to perform surgery on Walther when it became evident he intended to kill himself upon leaving our company.”
“Surgery?” Awa glanced nervously at the array of too-bright metal tools covering the tables. “What kind of surgery would prevent him from, ah, doing that?”
Carandini tapped his head again. “Cut him off from thinking about most things, other than eating and keeping