to meet him at Lalyara, then his suspicions would not have been aroused; but circumstances had forced her into a position in which any play she made would seem like bargaining for her life.
‘You are correct,’ she said. ‘I was brought here against my will, but they did not keep me as a prisoner. I am something of a heroine to their cause because I helped to save your daughter. It does not mean I endorse it.’
‘Stop these lies!’ Zahn cried suddenly, grabbing the pattern-board and tipping the cradle. It hit the floor and smashed into coloured shards. ‘Lucia tu Erinima died five years ago and more. Her father was Durun tu Batik. I do not know what leverage you think you have over me, Mistress Mishani, but you are sorely misguided if you believe you will win your freedom by trying to resurrect a ghost.’
Mishani’s triumph did not show on her face, but she knew she had the advantage now. A man such as Zahn did not abandon his dignity easily; his skills at negotiation had kept Blood Ikati a major player in the courts, and his display of rage showed how sensitive the subject of Lucia was to him.
‘You could have me executed,’ Mishani said, her voice cold. ‘But then you will only learn that I was telling the truth when the Weavers kill your daughter. Could you live with that, Zahn? You have not been living with it well these past years.’
‘Heart’s blood, you do not know when to stop!’ Zahn cried. ‘I will not hear any more of this!’
He was heading for the curtained doorway when Mishani spoke again.
‘Zaelis tu Unterlyn was there on the day you met your daughter,’ she snapped, her voice rising. ‘It was he who organised the kidnapping of Lucia. On the very day that Blood Batik overthrew Blood Erinima, we stole the child and hid her. No corpse was ever found because there was no corpse, Zahn! Lucia is alive!’
Zahn’s shoulders were hunched, his hand on the curtain. She had not wanted to bring the leader of the Libera Dramach’s name into this, but matters were too critical. She could not let him leave.
He turned back to her, and his face was suddenly haggard again.
‘You know you believe me,’ she said. A sudden rush of lightheadedness took her, but she fought against it. It was stiflingly hot; she did not know how much longer she could go without sitting down.
‘I cannot believe you,’ Zahn croaked. ‘Do you understand?’ He knew how clever Mishani could be, he knew the ways of the court, and though he wanted more than anything to think that Lucia could be alive, he would not be manipulated. He was no friend to Blood Koli, and he had no reason to trust one of them. He would not lose his daughter again, by allowing himself to think he might regain her and then to discover it was a bluff. He could not go through that. He had been numb so long that it had become a shield against the world, and when it came to the moment, he found that he was afraid to discard it.
He turned to go again. This kind of torment could not be borne.
‘Wait,’ Mishani said. ‘I can prove it.’
Zahn had almost dreaded to hear those words.
‘How?’ he said, his head bowed.
‘Xejen will be interrogated,’ she said. ‘You must attend.’
‘What good will that do?’
‘He knows where she is, as I do. Sooner or later, we will talk. The Weaver will try to keep it secret; he will try to obtain the information for his kind alone. He will scour Xejen’s mind and then decide what to tell you. You must not let him. Make him share what he learns as he learns it. Have him make Xejen speak only the truth, and ask Xejen yourself. The Weaver cannot refuse you if you order him.’
Zahn was silent, his back to her. Mishani knew that this was a desperate play, but it was all she had. The lives of thousands depended on her. If she was unable to prevent the Weavers finding the Fold, then at least with Zahn on her side she might be able to get them a warning in time to do something about it. It was a slim chance, but better than none at all.
‘You will learn the truth at the same time as you condemn her to death,’ Mishani said. ‘But if I cannot persuade you to stop this, then that