"So if not the Maati Vaupathai ... ," she began, and her throat closed.
Cehmai, she thought. He means to kill Cehmai and free the andat. Her
hands balled into fists, her heart thudded as if she'd been sprinting.
Adrah turned to face her, his arms folded, his expression calm as a
butcher in the slaughterhouse.
"You said there were three breaths blocking us. There's a fourth. Your
father."
No one spoke. When Idaan laughed, it sounded shrill and panicked in her
own cars. She took a pose that rejected the suggestion.
"You've gone mad, Adrah-kya. You've lost all sense. My father is dying.
He's dying, there's no call to ..."
"What else would enrage Danat enough to let his caution slip? The
upstart escapes. Your father is murdered. In the confusion, we come to
him, a hunting party in hand, ready to ride with him. We can put it out
today that we're planning to ride out before the end of the week. Fresh
meat for the wedding feast, we'll say."
"It won't work," Idaan said, raising her chin.
"And why not?" Adrah replied.
"Because I won't let you!"
She spun and grabbed for the door. As she hauled it open, Adrah was
around her, his arms pressing it shut again. Daaya was there too, his
wide hands patting at her in placating gestures that filled her with
rage. Her mind left her, and she shrieked and howled and wept. She
clawed at them both and kicked and tried to bite her way free, but
Adrah's arms locked around her, lifted her, tightened until she lost her
breath and the room spun and grew darker.
She found herself sitting again without knowing when she'd been set
down. Adrah was raising a cup to her lips. Strong, unwatered wine. She
sipped it, then pushed it away.
"Have you calmed yourself yet?" Adrah asked. There was warmth in his
voice again, as if she'd been sick and was only just recovering.
"You can't do it, Adrah-kya. He's an old man, and ..."
Adrah let the silence stretch before he leaned toward her and wiped her
lips with a soft cloth. She was trembling, and it annoyed her. Her body
was supposed to be stronger than that.
"It will cost him a few days," Adrah said. "A few weeks at most.
Idaan-kya, his murder is the thing that will draw your brother out if
anything will. You said it to me, love. If we falter, we fail."
He smiled and caressed her cheek with back of his hand. Daaya was at the
table, drinking wine of his own. Idaan looked into Adrah's dark eyes,
and despite the smiles, despite the caresses, she saw the hardness
there. I should have said no, she thought. When he asked if I had taken
another lover, I shouldn't have danced around it. I should have said no.
She nodded.
"We can make it quick. Painless," Adrah said. "It will be a mercy,
really. His life as it is now can hardly be worth living. Sick, weak.
That's no way for a proud man to live."
She nodded again. Her father. The simple pleasure in his eyes.
"He wanted so much to see us wed," she murmured. "He wanted so much for