That was it, she suddenly realized: he looked a little like Salma, or at least more than most young Dragonfly men did. Given where they all were, he must be some manner of relative.
Then, without ceremony, Lisan Dea was shepherding him out of the room. Che could not see his expression as he gazed back briefly at Tynisa, but his parting look at the Beetle herself was nothing short of contemptuous, making plain his surprise that this woman could claim a sisterhood with that one.
Maure had hung back – no, Maure had ducked out of sight entirely and was now gone from her side. Unexpectedly, after the varied escorts Che had enjoyed since leaving Khanaphes, she was left alone with Tynisa.
She approached, skirting the edge of the fighting mat as if it was the ground of the Prowess Forum in Collegium. From her elevated position, Tynisa watched her closely, and there was nothing in her face or stance that recognized Che at all. Her expression was bleak as winter, and her hand hovered near her sword. Che was no great warrior, scarcely a warrior at all, but as she drew near she became acutely aware of an invisible circle about Tynisa dictated by the broad reach of her blade, and that to cross into it uninvited would be fatal.
In that stance, in that arch expression, it was Tisamon who stood before her, or part of him at least. That segment of the Mantis-kinden which had been so devoted to Che’s uncle Stenwold was repressed or excised, along with those few times he had smiled or laughed, or shown himself something like human. Instead this was a sharp- edged and brittle creature of skill and bloodlust that was poised to strike at her, the same despairing figure of tragedy that had dashed itself to death against its love for the Dragonfly Felise Mienn, as Mantis heroes were traditionally wont to do.
Then something flickered in the girl’s eyes that owed nothing to that thousand years of dark and bloody heritage, and she said, ‘Che?’
‘No other,’ the Beetle replied, edging closer and feeling that circle around Tynisa flex as she touched it, like a tripwire, and then vanish, the danger gone as if it had never been. Feeling as though she had been given permission, Che stepped forward and embraced her near-sister.
‘What are you doing here?’ Tynisa asked of her, not annoyed as Che had anticipated, only wondering.
‘Looking for you,’ she explained. ‘You disappeared, remember?’
‘Yes, yes, I did,’ Tynisa agreed. ‘And if you’d found me just a few months ago, I’d not have been grateful for it, I think. Still, things have changed since then. Life’s better than it was.’
Che regarded her cautiously. ‘Is that so?’
The smile that met her gaze was unfamiliar. The Spider-kinden girl Che had grown up with had possessed a grand stock of smiles, knowing, subtle, gleeful, suggestive, a veritable arsenal that had brought about the ruin of many a young man. Tisamon, in contrast, had smiled rarely: his killing grin when shedding blood, and a more human expression reserved for his conversations with Stenwold. This smile belonged neither to the dead father nor to the daughter, as she had faced the world back then, but Che had a feeling that, had Tynisa ever let anyone into her heart, without masks and mirrors, this is what they might have seen.
‘You saw him, saw Alain?’ Tynisa asked her eagerly.
Che frowned for a second before connecting the name to the man. ‘I did,’ she conceded.
‘Well?’
There was obviously some immediate comment she should be ready to make, but Che could not find it.
Tynisa shook her head impatiently. ‘How like his brother he is. The very image, yes?’
Che looked her in the eyes, reading a lot there. Oh, Salme Dien had mocked Che, in his time, but fondly, always fondly. He would never have assumed that expression of condescension that Che had seen on the face of Salme Alain as he departed. But she said, ‘Yes, very,’ nevertheless, because this was not the time, nor the challenge she had come here to deliver. ‘Tynisa, you must know… You say things have changed for you?’
‘I have a purpose now,’ Tynisa agreed. ‘I have Alain.’
‘And was there a moment, when that change occurred?’ Che pressed.
Tynisa looked at her oddly. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Your father, Tynisa?’ Because to barrel on, at this point, seemed the only way – whilst keeping a weather eye open for some murderous reprisal from the man’s ghost. Yet Tynisa’s expression seemed honestly baffled. ‘Tynisa, I know. I saw him for myself. I know that the ghost of your father has sought you out, and I’m here to help you.’
For a long moment Tynisa just stared at her, and Che tensed, waiting for that glint of steel in her eyes that would herald Tisamon clawing to the forefront of her mind. Then she laughed: a snort of amusement that emerged despite all of Tynisa’s attempts to control it. ‘Ghosts, Che? There’s no such thing as ghosts. Don’t tell me fifteen years of College education didn’t teach you that.’
Che stared back at her, caught utterly off guard. ‘But… you can’t tell me you haven’t felt him, seen him even…?’
Tynisa’s expression sobered. ‘Oh, I won’t deny I’ve enjoyed some strange company when I’ve been on my own – on my way here and during the winter. I won’t say I didn’t see him.’ She held a hand up to forestall Che. ‘Achaeos, too, and Salma. You can’t imagine the fright it gave me to see Alain for the first time. I thought that I really was going out of my mind. But that was just me, Che, because I was all alone and I’d lost… everything, or so it seemed. I don’t think anyone could blame me for indulging in a few fantasies. But that’s done now, since I found Alain. I’m a new woman now.’
Gazing at her, Che could all but see the malignant form of Tisamon lurking at her shoulder. She could feel the dead Weaponsmaster’s presence like a chill in the air, but Tynisa kept smiling slightly condescendingly.
‘Ghosts, Che? Seriously? You’ll find plenty of people here who believe in them. But we know better, surely?’ Her smile was so brittle that Che could almost detect the cracks, but in Tynisa’s eyes there was absolutely no recognition of that looming presence which Che felt like a physical pressure.
‘We have to talk, Tynisa,’ Che said at last, recognizing defeat in the first skirmish, and retreating to a prepared position. ‘But I’ve come a long way, and I need to catch my breath. Tomorrow perhaps?’
‘And where were you?’ Che asked Maure, when she had tracked her down, after considerable searching.
‘Looking after your best interests by absenting myself,’ the mystic told her. ‘The ghost knows me – and knows me for its enemy. It wouldn’t have helped, me being there. When I meet it again, I want it to be somewhere that I’ve warded. Besides, I’ve been asking questions on your behalf.’
‘Oh?’
‘That steward wanted my services, so I said I’d help her. We talked. She was close-mouthed, but I worked out what put the sour look on her face.’
‘Tynisa?’ Che suggested glumly. ‘They don’t think she should be associating with their prince, I suppose.’
Maure gave her a curious look. ‘Well, you’ve got it completely backwards but, other than that, you’re right. Prince Alain has a reputation with women, and I get the impression that Lisan Dea was doing her best, as warden of the castle’s hospitality, to keep the two of them apart. But that’s all gone to the pits now, as you saw.’
Che closed her eyes briefly. ‘That’s a complication I don’t think I can deal with just at the moment. Let me stay with my brief and free her from the ghost, if I can. She’s never had any difficulties with relationships before.’ Even as Che said that, she saw Tynisa’s face again in her mind, all those layers of social accomplishment stripped away, leaving something as raw and vulnerable as her father ever was. Had not Tisamon himself made such unhappy personal relationships the very meat and drink of his downfall? ‘If that’s how this Lisan Dea feels, why hasn’t she warned Tynisa?’
‘And betray her mistress and the family? Unthinkable.’
‘And yet she told you.’
Maure shrugged. ‘There’s a saying: no secrets from the dead. It generalizes to those of my profession. We do more than clutch at the memory of the departed. Sometimes those grieving simply need a sympathetic ear amongst the living rather than an audience with the dead. Our seneschal didn’t want any spectres raised. She wanted… confession. Your sister is in danger from Alain, and she’s being used as a weapon by the Salmae princess, as well. Only, the way I hear it, that weapon turned out to be sharper than anyone guessed. I think we both know why that is.’
‘We need to act on the ghost fast, then. Advise me, Maure.’
‘Bring your sister to a place of my choosing – one that I have properly prepared. I will then throw open the doors, and see if he will emerge. If he does, I will fight him for her.’
