Issola (12 page)

"What is that?" I managed to say.

"My wizard's staff," said Morrolan. "I am a wizard. We have staves, you know. They go with the office."

"And I've never seen you use it before because ... ?"

"In my own world, Blackwand has pretty much replaced it, but here, there are limits to what Blackwand can do, so I revert to my earlier skills and implements."

"I suppose it is immensely powerful and you can do all sorts of amazing things with it."

"Naturally."

"And you've had it with you all along?"

"I always have it with me."

"Then please explain to me why, by Verra's skinny ass couldn't you have—?"

"While I was fettered," he said, "its power was nullified. The Jenoine are rather skilled in counterspells. Now I am unfettered, and, if there are no objections, I propose to use it. You don't mind, do you, Vlad? Or have you other questions?"

"If that means you intend to get us out of here," I said, "then I’m all for it. If you have some other plan, we'll have to negotiate."

"That's my plan," said Morrolan.

"Not, however, theirs," said Aliera, sweetly. I followed the direction of her gaze, and saw that the two Jenoine were back.

"So," I said to no one in particular. "I guess it comes down to negotiation after all." I looked at the Jenoine, then glanced back, and saw, heard, felt Pathfinder and Blackwand being drawn from their sheaths, Morrolan first transferring the staff to his left hand. Then he set the staff spinning; it seemed very light in his hand. I hoped he was doing more than showing off how good he was at making a stick spin. The wizard's staff was spinning at his side, he held Blackwand in his other hand, and next to him stood Aliera, holding Pathfinder, with its point at the Jenoine's face. In the Jhereg, we call this "negotiating from a position of strength." I suspect the Dragons have a similar term.

I didn't have a position of strength. I didn't draw a weapon, because I wasn't sure what to draw, and because I was in no condition to wield a flyswatter.

Teldra barked, coughed, grumbled, and chattered at them; one of them replied similarly. I strained to guess the tone of the conversation, then gave it up as hopeless.

"Any
idea, Loiosh?"

"Sorry, Boss. Not
a clue."

"1 hate sitting around while other people decide what's going to
happen to
me."

"Well, you can always do something stupid."

"No, 1 think I'm over that, for the moment."

"Note down the date."

"Oh, shut up."

Morrolan and Aliera took a step toward the Jenoine; Teldra kept talking.

The big, ugly thing just stood there, not appearing to notice the Great Weapons, much less the wizard's staff, or the cold blooded, highly skilled Easterner assassin who was bravely cowering next to the Dragonlords.

"Do
that thing's eyes remind you of something, Boss?"

"Yes, Loiosh. Fish eyes. Is it important?"

"Probably not."

From my position, I couldn't see Morrolan's face, but 1 had a partial view of Aliera's: there was a gleam in her eye, and a sort of twisted grin on her lip. Morrolan, I was sure, was scowling. He scowled well. Aliera grinned, Morrolan scowled, and I sneered. There you have it.

They closed with the Jenoine, and I suddenly thought of the Morganti dagger in my belt. Well, I could join them. I mean, it wasn't a Great Weapon, but it was a Pretty Good Weapon. I might do some good. I might be able to help. I might prefer to cower as far back in a corner as I could.

"Good
plan, Boss. Let's go with it."

"Sold,"
I told him. I managed to stand up, then took a step backward, stopped, drew the Morganti dagger, and went up to stand next to Morrolan.

"Boss-"

This had happened to me before - going forward into danger that wasn't at all my type of danger, when I knew I ought to stay
back, and I hadn't then understood why I did it, and I didn't know this time. Bugger. The Morganti dagger seemed alive in my hand. Yes, it was a dull, grey color. Yes, it did have a blood-groove. It was a narrow blade, very light and useful-feeling in my hand, about eighteen inches long, and not nearly as blade-heavy as I'd suspected it would be. It was also hungry, and, as I'd suspected, it was very powerful; I felt it and hated it. And worried about it, as well. The Jenoine had given it to
me, and now I was going to use it against them. Wouldn't they have thought of that? Was that what they wanted me to do? Could it hurt them, in any case? According to Verra, no it couldn't. But if not, then I didn't have anything that could.

The Jenoine took a step forward, and extended its left hand; I felt the sick tumble in my stomach that accompanies the realization that action, and a sort of action I hate, is now inevitable: The
maybes
had dissolved into the dust, the
I
hopes
taken wing, the alternatives had narrowed to one, which was the same as vanishing to none at all - I've never understood the arithmetic of that.

All right, then. If Morrolan could fight with two weapons at once, so could I; I let Spellbreaker fall into my left hand.

"Tell it," said Morrolan, still spinning his staff, "that it will permit us to leave at once, or we shall destroy it." Teldra said, "Lord, that's what I've been telling her, though I have perhaps phrased it differently."

"And?"

"She is considering her options."

"How rational," said Aliera.

"Was Aliera being ironic, Boss? Or was that an insult?"

"We'll probably never know, Loiosh."

"Vlad," said Morrolan. "I can feel the gate. Are you ready to go through it?"

"Sure," I said. "But now, what's the plan. Are we trying to escape, or do we want to kill this thing?" The thing we were talking about kept looking at us; I had impression it was holding itself ready for action, and that it didn't seem terribly worried.

"Kill it," said Aliera, and, at the same time, Morrolan said, “If we can get out cleanly, we should."

"I'm with you, Morrolan."

Aliera sniffed disdainfully.

Then things happened too fast for me to follow - it was one of those. I can't tell you who attacked first, or what form the attack took. I can't tell if the Jenoine's response was physical, magical, or some combination. I only know that, suddenly, everyone was moving, and I was lost in the combinations of limb, steel, and spell. I know that I was looking for an opening to use the Morganti dagger I held, and I know that I was trying to keep Spellbreaker in between me and anything nasty that it might send at me, and I know that I failed miserably at both efforts. I can't tell you what Morrolan, Aliera, and Teldra were up to, but my part in the affair was mercifully brief - I lost consciousness within a matter of seconds. And, while I couldn't be sure what their situation was after it was over, at least mine was easily and readily understood when I awoke: I was manacled to the wall in almost exactly the same spot Aliera had occupied before. Teldra was next to me, unconscious, blood trailing down from the corner of her dainty mouth.

Well, Morrolan and Aliera were now free, in exchange for an Issola seneschal and an Easterner ex-assassin. A neat two-for-two swap. I wondered who had come out ahead on the trade I was pretty sure it wasn't me.

7

“Think
you can wake her up, Boss?"

"Don't
know, Loiosh. Any reason why I should?"

"Uh . . . I'll get back to you on that. Think you can break these manacles the way you broke the other ones?"
I hefted them ... they were lighter than they seemed.

"I hate repeating a trick,"
I told him.
"But I'm willing to make an exception this time."

"That's big of you, Boss."

"But I'm going to wait, if you don't mind; I don't think I could manage a sleep spell right now."
While I waited and recovered, I did a quick check, and found to my surprise that the Jenoine had left me all my weapons. Why would they do that? The Morganti weapon was lying on the floor, no doubt right where it had fallen; they hadn't even
taken it. Why would they capture me, but leave me all my weapons? They weren't supposed to do that. Maybe I should get them
a copy of the rules.

Teldra stirred next to me.

"Good morning," I told her.

She squeezed her eyes shut without ever opening them, then did
so again, and again. I waited.

"Any idea what that thing did to me, Loiosh? Why I lost consciou
s
ness?"

"No, Boss. It
happened too fast. I didn't notice it even looking at
you
-
you just went down."
I looked at Teldra again; she was working on becoming conscious, but it was taking a while.

"Okay, let's make a note not to underestimate the Jenoine."

"Right, Boss."

I leaned my head back, started to take a deep breath, and caught myself. I hate it when I need to take a deep breath but I can't - I'd have to find a different psychological crutch.

I caught an echo of my familiar's psychic snicker.

"You aren't helping any."

"What happened?" said Teldra.

"To begin with," I said, "the world was created from the seeds of amorphia spread from the droppings of a giant. . . no, I guess you aren't awake enough to appreciate my wit. I don't know what happened, Teldra. We're right where Morrolan and Aliera were, but I'm assuming our friends got away. Well, I don't know; maybe I shouldn't assume that. I hope they got away. I don't know. Tough bastards, those guys."

She chuckled. "Morrolan and Aliera, or the Jenoine?"

"Well, yeah."

Teldra nodded.

"How do you feel?" I asked her.

She stared at me. 1 recognized the look; I'd been on the other side of it often enough.

"Sorry," I said. "Stupid question."

She flashed me a Lady Teldra smile.

"It
seems she's all right, Boss."

"Guess so."

Teldra seemed about to speak, but I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall behind me, and she held her peace. The wall was smoother than it looked. I relaxed, prepared myself, and considered what I was about to do. After several minutes, Teldra said, "You're going to do something, aren't you?”

"Eventually."

"Can I help?"

I stirred, opened my eyes, looked at her. "Any training in witchcraft?" She shook her head.

"Then I'm afraid not," I said.

I closed my eyes again and muttered, "Trágya."

"Legalább," she agreed.

My head snapped around. "You speak Fenarian?"

"Why yes," she said.

I grunted, wondering why I was surprised. "How many languages do you speak, Teldra?"

"Several," she said. "And you, Vlad?"

I shook my head. "None well. A bit of Fenarian. A smattering of a few other Eastern languages. But not enough to actually think in any of them - I always have to translate in my head."

"I see."

"How do you do that? How do you learn to think in another language?"

"Hmmm. It isn't an all or nothing thing, Vlad. You say you don't think in Fenarian, but what would you say if I said, Köszönöm?"

"Szivesen."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Why did you say that?"

"You said, 'Thank you'; I said, 'You're welcome.' "

"But did you make that translation in your head, or was it automatic?"

"Ah. I see." I thought about that. "Okay, you're right. It was automatic."

"That's the beginning of thinking in the language."

"Like whenever 1 make a comment, Boss, and you say — "

"Shut up, Loiosh."

"Okay," I said. "You make a good point. But if I've got the basics, the rest is awful slow to follow."

"But it will get there if you keep speaking it. It starts with rote responses, such as thank you and you're welcome."

"Basic courtesy," I said. "Maybe all languages have rote responses for those: hello, how are you, that sort of thing. I wonder."

"They do," said Teldra.

"Are you sure?"

"The languages without courtesy built into them didn't survive long enough for us to remember them. Because, of course—"

"Yes," I said. "I see."

I pondered this linguistic profundity for a moment.

I considered what I had just done, and was soon going to do again. "Is witchcraft a language?"

"Hmmm. I don't know. I should imagine it is. I know that sorcery is."

"Witchcraft," I said, "does not have courtesy built into it." She laughed. "All right. If we're counting, you've scored a point. If we are going to call those languages, and we might as well, they don't have built-in courtesy." She frowned suddenly "Unless we consider... no, that's too farfetched." I didn't want to encourage her to go wherever she had been about to go, so I said, "How did you and Morrolan meet, anyway? If you don't mind my asking."

"It was out East," said Teldra. "During the Interregnum, in a village whose name translated to 'Blackchapel.' This was before he knew who he was, and—"

"Before he knew who he was?"

"Before he knew he was human."

I blinked. "I think you're going to have to explain that."

"I didn't realize you didn't know," said Teldra. "Certainly, it is no secret."

"All right."

"The Lord Morrolan was brought to the East, beyond his ancestral homelands, as an infant, just around the time of Adron's Disaster. His parents didn't survive, and so he was raised by Easterners. He grew up thinking he was simply an extraordinarily tall Easterner."

"You're kidding!"

"No, my lord."

"Well I'll be - really? He thought he was human? I mean, Easterner?"

She nodded.

I shook my head. "Amazing."

"Yes."

"Most extraordinarily tall," I reflected. "How did he find out?”

"It couldn't be concealed forever," she said. "In any case, I was also in the East, and of much the same age. We met at about the time he was completing his pact with Verra, in which I was able to be of some service to him, and I was also of some help
when he was gathering his Circle of Witches."