Conservation of Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    “Visual contact,” the kite said crisply.
    The stranger-kite was the color of a tarnished star. It had tucked all its projections away to present a minimal surface for targeting, but Lisse had no doubt that it could unfold itself faster than she could draw breath. The kite flew a widening helix, beautifully precise.
    “A mercenary salute, equal to equal,” the ghost said.
    “Are we expected to return it?”
    “Are you a mercenary?” the ghost countered.
    “Communications incoming,” the kite said before Lisse could make a retort.
    “I’ll hear it,” Lisse said over the ghost’s objection. It was the least courtesy she could offer, even to a mercenary.
    To Lisse’s surprise, the tapestry’s raven vanished to reveal a woman’s visage, not an emblem. The woman had brown skin, a scar trailing from one temple down to her cheekbone, and dark hair cropped short. She wore gray on gray, in no uniform that Lisse recognized, sharply tailored. Lisse had expected a killer’s eyes, a hunter’s eyes. Instead, the woman merely looked tired.
    “Commander Kiriet Dzan of—” She had been speaking in administrative, but the last word was unfamiliar. “You would say Candle. ”
    “Lisse of Rhaion,” she said. There was no sense in hiding her name.
    But the woman wasn’t looking at her. She was looking at the ghost. She said something sharply in that unfamiliar language.
    The ghost pressed its hand against Lisse’s. She shuddered, not understanding. “Be strong,” it murmured.
    “I see,” Kiriet said, once more speaking in administrative. Her mouth was unsmiling. “Lisse, do you know who you’re traveling with?”
    “I don’t believe we’re acquainted,” the ghost said, coldly formal.
    “Of course not,” Kiriet said. “But I was the logistical coordinator for the scouring of Rhaion.” She did not say consolidation. “I knew why we were there. Lisse, your ghost’s name is Vron Arien.”
    Lisse said, after several seconds, “That’s a mercenary name.”
    The ghost said, “So it is. Lisse—” Its hand fell away.
    “Tell me what’s going on.”
    Its mouth was taut. Then: “Lisse, I—”
    “Tell me.”
    “He was a deserter, Lisse,” the woman said, carefully, as if she thought the information might fracture her. “For years he eluded Wolf Command. Then we discovered he had gone to ground on Rhaion. Wolf Command determined that, for sheltering him, Rhaion must be brought to heel. The Imperium assented.”
    Throughout this Lisse looked at the ghost, silently begging it to deny any of it, all of it. But the ghost said nothing.
    Lisse thought of long nights with the ghost leaning by her bedside, reminding her of the dancers, the tame birds, the tangle of frostfruit trees in the city square; things she did not remember herself because she had been too young when the jerengjen came. Even her parents only came to her in snatches: curling up in a mother’s lap, helping a father peel plantains. Had any of the ghost’s stories been real?
    She thought, too, of the way the ghost had helped her plan her escape from Base 87, how it had led her cunningly through the maze and to the kite. At the time, it had not occurred to her to wonder at its confidence.
    Lisse said, “Then the kite is yours.”
    “After a fashion, yes.” The ghost’s eyes were precisely the color of ash after the last ember’s death.
    “But my parents—”
    Enunciating the words as if they cut it, the ghost said, “We made a bargain, your parents and I.”
    She could not help it; she made a stricken sound.
    “I offered you my protection,” the ghost said. “After years serving the Imperium, I knew its workings. And I offered your parents vengeance. Don’t think that Rhaion wasn’t my home, too.”
    Lisse was wrackingly aware of Kiriet’s regard. “Did my parents truly die in the consolidation?” The euphemism was easier to use.
    She could have asked whether Lisse was her real name. She had to assume that it