The Burning White (Lightbringer #5) - Brent Weeks Page 0,263

stationed everywhere. Cruxer was also insisting they take different routes every time they traversed the Jaspers, and a dozen other precautions. Kip played along, though he thought if anyone wanted him dead badly enough, they could probably accomplish the deed.

“What’s that?” he asked, bare-chested, arms in a fresh tunic he was donning for the evening. He thought he’d done pretty well speaking with two of the most powerful people in the world, but when Tisis presented him with freshly pressed clothes, the morning’s nervous sweat had made her argument for her. These were for a different kind of battle, and if he had to go fight them somewhat alone, he was glad that Tisis was his shield bearer.

“A note from your grandfather.”

“Did you check it for poison?” Kip asked.

“Kip.”

“You’re right; he’d rather deliver that in person.”

“It’s an invitation,” Tisis said.

“For me to commit suicide?” Kip asked.

She read aloud, “ ‘High Lord Andross Guile, by the Light of Orholam Exalted Promachos of the United Seven Satrapies, High Lord Cardinal, Ascendant of Ruthgar, et cetera . . .’ It actually says ‘et cetera’ like he’s being brief. And the rest appears to be, um, in his own hand, I think?” She extended it to Kip, who quickly wrestled the tunic over his head.

Tisis set to the various laces while he read. Not that they didn’t have servants for this sort of thing, but she liked taking care of him. He liked it, too. These small moments of closeness, of feeling normal, were treasures, he thought.

Something hit him as he saw that scrawl on the pages. “Whoa,” Kip said.

“Right?” Tisis said.

“No, no, I haven’t even read it yet. I just . . . I just felt like I had a flashback, but I have no idea to what. Like someone dropped a seed in my brain, but tamped hard the earth so it can’t break the surface. Like I’ve seen that handwriting . . .” In a card. He shook his head as if to clear cobwebs. “They examined this for magic, right?”

“More than once. In every spectrum. Even chi.”

That made Kip touch the pendant at his neck. He double-checked that there weren’t any holes in the gallium. There weren’t.

All right. No need for his chest to feel so tight. It was just a letter.

From the most controlling and malevolent man I personally know.

He read it: “ ‘Kip, would you please give me the honor and the great pleasure of joining me for a few games of Nine Kings?’ ”

Kip couldn’t help but grin. What the hell?

“ ‘I fear this may be our last chance to play, and to speak frankly with each other. I have missed your company, though I understand if the feeling isn’t mutual. I should be most gratified if you would join me immediately after dinner. Naturally, you may bring whatever protection you require, though we will play alone. I would love also to meet your bride anew. Perhaps tomorrow at breakfast?’ ”

“A bit to digest there, huh?” Tisis said. “I particularly like the bit about meeting me ‘anew.’ ”

The last time Andross and Tisis had been in the same room together, Andross had arranged for Kip to walk in on her stroking the old man under the covers. “I actually kind of do like that part,” Kip said. “Wouldn’t mind forgetting about . . . that.”

She twisted her face. “I’m halfway between mortified, still, and wanting to slap his evil face.”

“I should like to see that very much,” Kip said.

“But it would invite questions that I don’t really want people asking,” Tisis said. “You need to go, don’t you?”

“It’s too weird,” Kip said. “Like, I’d say it’s a forgery, because it’s such a strange tone from him . . . but no forgery would opt for such a strange tone, would it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“With anyone else, I’d say it’s an old man trying to mend fences before he dies or something. But . . .”

“But not Andross.”

“No, not from the master himself.” And there it was again: something thrumming in Kip’s memory that he couldn’t quite grab. The Master.

“The messenger apologized, said he came as soon as he could. But if you’re supposed to meet after dinner, you need to go as soon as we can get you dressed. Do you think it’s a trap?” she asked.

“They don’t need a trap. We’re in the web already,” Kip said.

“I can’t go with you, can I?” she said.

“If I get killed, you have to get our people off the