A Treason of Truths by Ada Harper

Author:Ada Harper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-29T13:28:48+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“How delightfully ambitious our royal majesty is!” Alais’s purr was only somewhat distorted by the sound of screeching metal. “Kitra, do be a dear and separate that claw from its owner. It’s getting cheeky.”

“Did I call at a bad time?” Lyre asked drolly, matching Alais tone for tone. She understood the virtue of whistling past graveyards, and Alais whistled past most of her life.

“Just a spot of mortal peril is all,” Alais said. There was a bang, then what sounded like an improvised incendiary. Impressive. “We were making lovely progress until we ran into these dainty little moths—”

“Yeah, shoulda warned you about that.”

“—and met their delightful kin when they called them. Did you know a squid could mate with a thornberry bush? The theoretical offspring are just adorable. I should like to take them to mother’s next senate dinner.”

A staccato punctuated her last words. Lyre thought she heard Kitra grunt. Fabric rustled, the sound of bodies clambering and grappling more than the mic could filter out. When Alais returned to the conversation, things were significantly quieter.

“In any case, we managed to lead them on a merry chase and incinerate the lead ones with a clever toy Cian whipped up. Now,” Alais said, humor dropping suddenly from her voice, “what bloody fool delusion of grandeur does our fair ruler require of us now?”

“She is listening,” Lyre pointed out.

“We’re taking the flotilla. Or taking it down,” Sabine said. “I thought you’d be eager to endorse this plan, Lady Alais. To gain vengeance against those who murdered your dear cousin.”

“Unlike the royal family, I can’t afford to indulge myself with the idea that my suffering will somehow justify that of others. Revenge is too rich for my tastes,” Alais said. “But, for queen and country, et cetera, et cetera. I suppose The Liar has a plan on how four barefoot Imperials and a Syn bureaucrat are going to bring down a technocracy.”

“Yep,” Lyre said. And despite herself, despite the stew of acid and dread in her stomach whenever Sabine looked at her that way, despite her betrayal being out and revealed at the worst time possible. Despite all of it, her lips curled with a smile. Nothing was right but this—this was what Lyre lived for. “We’re going to let them do it to themselves.”

“How?” Alais didn’t even have the patience to sound surprised.

Well. She was no fun lately. Lyre sniffed. “The whole flotilla is a series of interconnected engine cores, yeah? Salvaged from old ships. You got that from the tour. What you didn’t get is how those engines don’t burn out from the strain and bring the whole thing down.”

Lyre began to pace, then stopped herself. She prided herself on holding still. Nerves would get you killed. The argument with Sabine had thrown her off her game. She felt exposed, rubbed raw. She folded her arms and rapped her points on her elbows instead. “It’s bioengineered, like everything else on the Vault. Heat-eating moss. Attracted to heat sources like engines. Attaches to the vents and converts the excess heat to energy.

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