Baru tugged her toward the gangway by the chain at her throat. “Then I’ll raise you both a toast before I die.”

25. The Embassy

25

THE EMBASSY

“SHE took Iraji!”

Apparitor burst into my cabin with his hair in wet ringlets. He caught me halfway into my quarantine gown, still doing up the horrid mantis-skeleton: this made me cross enough to stay silent about the tripwire on my door. He tangled himself up very thoroughly, and after a few hops and an exclamation about my virginity, he fell on his ass.

I looked down at him where he sprawled and selected the drawl of an aristocrat. “I shouldn’t worry about Iraji. Baru is always fixing on this man or that as her disposable companion.”

“Iraji is not disposable!” Apparitor kicked at the wire, and then, with a sudden blank-faced calm, drew his dive knife to slash himself free. “I want him safe. I want him back, Yawa, and if I lose him I’ll—”

I sighed heavily. I was in truth already nervous. Himu’s fingers worked in my gut: Execarne had arranged his operation for tonight, and if I were not back on Helbride by dawn, Baru safely packed away, there was every chance Ormsment and Tain Shir would find me. “What will you do to me, Svir?”

“I don’t know.” Apparitor groaned. “I think he went with her voluntarily.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“Then whatever can I do to help you?”

Apparitor hopped to his feet. He smelled so strong of whiskey I thought for an instant I’d stumbled into an operating theater. Ghastly pink round his eyes, the waxing crescent of a grief moon, and he’d chewed his nails past the pale tips of their beds.

“You’ve got to call it off,” he said. “What you’re about to do. You can’t go ahead with it.”

He knew. His crew had probably seen Faham flashing messages ashore in the night.

“I won’t call it off.”

“You have to. Iraji could be hurt.”

“You’ve lost worse than one dear boy to this mission.”

“Not him. I won’t lose him. Not in this place.”

“You’ve been perfectly willing to risk him before—”

Apparitor’s throat had a tantrum. His tendons stood out in such defined rage I thought they would peel his jaw wide open till his cheeks ripped. But above his chin he was blank, blank, calm and green-eyed composure: his teeth did not even click. I swear to Wydd that for one moment all my old street instincts told me he would kill me.

And so I knew I’d found something important.

“Perhaps,” I purred, “if you explained why he mattered so much to you…?”