The Broken Eye
Page 72

“Let’s talk about that seclusion,” Kip said, suddenly ready to do combat. To hell with this old man and his tricks. “Grinwoody, get away.” He didn’t turn to look at the slave. “Grinwoody, we both know I could have had you put out with forty lashes or worse when I spoke to the Spectrum, if I’d wanted to. I spared you. Get the hell out of here. Your betters are speaking.”
A moment passed. Kip saw Andross nod his head.
Grinwoody left, and Kip felt a little stab of pleasure.
So it begins. The opiate of power. Command and obedience, in a dance until you climb the greased pole high enough that all must obey you, and you must obey none.
“Thinking deep thoughts?” Andross asked.
“Am I so easy to read?” Kip asked.
“In your unguarded moments. You are young yet, trapped in that twilight of having adult thoughts and insights quite beyond what others think you should have, and being utterly, wildly out of control of your self. At your age, the emotions have a power greater than the intellect can tame. Slowly, slowly, they will become yours. Yours to master or at least to hide. If you survive so long.”
Kip looked at the cards, but he didn’t see them. “At moments, you sound so like my father that I despair.”
“At moments, you sound so like him that I rejoice,” Andross said. “I have hope for you, Kip. But there are hard lessons between where you now sit and feel, and where you shall stand and act. You must become master to that within you, not its puppet. In the meantime, your mouth is a loose cannon, Kip the Lip.”
“I know. I’m trying to—”
“Shut up and listen. You react exactly the wrong way. You say startling things, often rude things, but sometimes with stunning insight. Someday, you will control that tongue. In the meantime, when you say something that shocks your interlocutor, instead of being embarrassed and turning your eyes inward, pay attention! When you drop an explosive truth, don’t look at yourself. Package away your feeble blushes and your horror for later; in the moment, watch what others do.”
Instantly, Kip was embarrassed of his own feebleness and foolishness. Exactly what Andross was speaking about. So he blurted, “Why are you acting like my friend?”
“Not your friend,” Andross answered instantly. “Your grandfather, for all it costs us both.”
“You fear me,” Kip said.
The astonishment on Andross’s face was priceless. Then he laughed. “I see. You were trying it. No Kip. And yes. Not fear of you. Fear that you may put this family in danger, though for the nonce, if you do something horrific, everyone knows that you don’t act for me. As you grow older and more refined, that perceived gap will close. So in order for you to be of use to me, you must grow faster than the conventional wisdom believes possible.”
Oh, no pressure then.
But Kip realized this was exactly what his father had been trying to protect him from when he’d suggested Kip enter the Chromeria under an assumed name. And Kip had blindly wanted to be thrust directly into the middle of all of it. Had demanded it, long before he was ready.
“What are your plans for me?” Kip asked.
“You asked that before.”
“You were a wight then.”
Andross Guile paused. Looked at the cards. “Do you think, grandson, that all my rage was born of red luxin?” He affixed Kip with his many-colored eyes: a background of shocking natural blue making a canvas for sub-red, red, orange, and yellow entwined like serpents.
“I won’t tell you anything for free,” Kip said. He swallowed. “We trade. Like adults.”
“Playing an adult while playing an adult while playing an adult, fair enough,” Andross said. He played a Flawless Mirror.
It didn’t make any sense. His deck had no Prisms, for one, and if he wanted to play a burning ray, it would take two turns. He’d be dead by then, killed by Kip’s heavy galleon.
Was he deliberately giving Kip a victory in the game so Kip would feel good about something after this talk?
Kip said, “I’ll tell you about your other grandson … if you give me written permission to all the libraries in the Chromeria. All of them.”
Andross raised his eyebrows. “There are things in some of those libraries that could put the whole Chromeria at risk.”
“All the more reason that those who defend her should know them.”
“A full accounting of your half brother,” Andross said. “All you know.”
“Done,” Kip said.
“Not done. That’s your opening bid. Here’s my counter. I told you how I like surprises. I want to buy one from you.”
“What’s that?” Kip asked. This didn’t sound good.
“Don’t tell Karris about Zymun.”
What, as if Kip wanted to tell Karris about Zymun? ‘Hi, stepmother, I met your real son. The one you’ve apparently been trying to hide? The bastard? Oh, and he’s the worst person I’ve ever met. He tried to kill me. Oh, he also tried to murder your husband, his father.’
“Done,” Kip said quickly. “If.”
Andross didn’t ask, ‘If what?’ Instead, he said, “Of course, if you tell someone else who may tell her, that’s an abrogation of our agreement.”
I’m a turtle-bear, not a weasel. “Of course,” Kip said irritably.
“And the if?” Andross asked.
“You’re going to send out Blackguard on skimmers, looking for my father.”
“Sea chariots,” Andross corrected. “Yes, of course.”
Something about his tone told Kip it was half a lie. Andross hadn’t been planning on sending the Blackguards out—or if he had, he’d been planning to send them to look for something else. But now, called on it, he would send them. So that was a victory, Kip guessed. “I get to go with them.”
“You’ve too much to learn here. It’s what your father would have demanded for you.”
“I won’t be moved on this. If I have to, I’ll make my own skimmer and search for him by myself.”
Andross pursed his lips. Kip was testing his patience. “You may go once. On the time of my choosing.”
“And you swear they’ll be looking for him?”
Pique flashed through Andross Guile’s eyes. Kip had caught him. He’d already said he would do it, so holding back would expose the lie.
“Done. I so swear,” Andross Guile said.
“And done,” Kip said.
“Now, tell me what you know, and let me see how good of a deal I’ve made blind.”
“Zymun was alive, last I saw him,” Kip said. “He captured me, after the Battle of Ru, after Gunner threw me back into the sea. Zymun found me on the beach and took me prisoner. He was fighting for the Color Prince, you know.”
“I do. I’ll claim I sent him to spy, if it suits me.”
Kip already felt like he’d got the worse end of things. What if he didn’t find anything in the libraries?
He told his grandfather the whole story of his capture and his time on the boat with Zymun. “And he’s a serpent. There is no human kindness in him. He mimics feelings as if he had them, but he is nothing inside. He is thinner than parchment, and more evil than—”