Issola (13 page)

I nodded. I knew this circle existed - they occupied the East Tower,
but I had never had occasion to go there, and still didn't know exactly what he used them for. But, no doubt, I would never know all there was to know about Morrolan.

I shook my head, trying to get used to the idea of Morrolan being raised as an Easterner.

"Where in the East was he?"

"There are - or, rather, were - a series of small kingdoms near
Lake Nivaper, just south of the Hookjaw Mountains."

"Yes, I know them. They speak Fenarian in some of them."

She nodded. "His name at the time was Fenarian: Sötétcsilleg. 'Morrolan' is just the same thing, rendered into the ancient tongue of the Dragon."

"Amazing," I said. "All right, so you helped him sacrifice villages of Easterners to the Demon Goddess. Then what?"

She smiled. "That was later, and they were Dragaeran villages. Eventually, he returned to reclaim his ancestral homeland, and he was gracious enough to give me residence. I was poor, of course, and had nowhere else to go. I remain very grateful to him."

I nodded, wondering what she was leaving out. Most likely, anything that was to her credit or Morrolan's discredit. She was like that. It sometimes made me a little uncomfortable to never know exactly what she was thinking, but, on the other hand, it was nice to know that there was at least one being in the world who wouldn't say anything nasty about me.

"You're awful sensitive for an assassin, Boss."

"You've said that before, Loiosh."

We returned to silence; I waited to recover and hoped I'd have time to do so; in the meantime my mind wandered, starting with the rather remarkable revelations about Morrolan and proceeding from there. I don't remember most of what I thought about - the sort of flitting, random thoughts that can only just barely be called thinking. But then I did eventually have a real, true thought, and it brought me up so sharply that it burst out of my mouth before my brain had entirely finished processing it: "Aw nuts. If Morrolan and Aliera did escape, I'll bet they're going to want to rescue us."

"Of
course," said Teldra.

"Ready to start, Loiosh?"

"Boss — "

“I’ll be fine."

"Boss-"

"If I'm still chained to this wall when Morrolan and Aliera show up, I'll almost certainly die of shame. The chances of messing up
the spell are much less."

I got the impression Loiosh wasn't convinced. I wasn't either.

"Teldra," I said. "I've changed my mind. You can help."

"Yes?"

"You saw what I did with the knives?"

"Yes."

"Good," I said, and reached to hand her some - and only then realized that the Spellbreaker was back around my wrist I stopped, hand in midair, and looked at Teldra.

"What is it, Vlad?"

"Loiosh,"
I said,
"how;
did it get back there? Last I remember it was in my hand, and I was waving it around like an idiot. I can’t
believe the Jenoine not only let me keep it, but were kind enough to put it back around my wrist for me."

"They didn't, Boss."

"Talk."

"It sort
of slithered over to you, and, uh, it kind of crawled up your arm."

"On its own?"

"
'Fraid so, Boss."

Well. Wasn't
that
interesting?

I handed Teldra my last three daggers, pulling them out of various places. I hoped they would be enough - I used to carry lot more.

"You know what to do?"

"I know what to do, but not when to do it."

"I'll try to say something. If I seem to lose consciousness, that would be a good time. Oh, give me one back for a second, need to expose some more skin first."

She didn't ask, and I didn't explain; I just cut away four more strips from my jerkin. The air was even colder with still more of my belly exposed. I handed two of the strips to Teldra, asking her if she knew what to do with them. She nodded. She didn't appear at all nervous, which I attribute to acting ability, probably inherited; stupidity would be the only other possible explanation, and I didn't think she was stupid.

When we had managed to get the leather between the manacles and our wrists, she nodded at me, as if signaling that she was ready. I gave her back the last knife. I was now as close to unarmed as I'd been in some time. My rapier—

"Where is my rapier?" I said.

"Across the room, I think."

"How did that happen?"

"I don't know."

I considered the matter further, saying aloud, "If they know how we got out the last time, they might have done something to prevent this from working."

"I know," said Teldra.

"But they keep not behaving the way captors are supposed to.”

"They probably weren't raised on the right sorts of bedtime stories and songs."

"And bad theater," I agreed. "But I'm starting to think they have a whole other plan in mind."

"What sort of plan?"

"I'm not sure," I said, which was not an outright lie, at any rate. "All right, then. Let's try it." She said, "Vlad, do you think we're doing what they want us to?"

I paused, then sighed. "I wish I knew. Are you willing to go through with it anyway?" She smiled. "Of course. It would be rude not to," proving that even Issolas are capable of self-directed irony. This, while maybe not an important discovery, was, somehow, a pleasing one.

"Let's do it, then."

She nodded. I held out my hand, and she took it; her hand was dry and cool.

I began.

You don't need to hear about it again, do you? I knew better than to let my fear interfere with what I had to do. Loiosh was his usual steady self, and, to make a long story short, I turned out to be sufficiently rested not to destroy myself.

The big difference between doing it on someone else and doing it on myself was that the coldness from my wrists became more and more insistent, and there was an awareness somewhere deep inside me that I could be seriously hurting myself. I had to trust Loiosh.

I was used to trusting Loiosh; over the years, I've gotten pretty good at it.

I concentrated, and pulled at imaginary skeins of fabric until it rolled over me, covered me, and I felt like I was going to drown in it; the chill on my wrists beginning to feel like heat, and insisting more and more on my attention; but I still had a bit left in me when the whole thing was shattered - quite literally - and I was pulled back to a hazy sort of half consciousness, vaguely pleased that my wrists were now free, noting that Teldra's were as well, and hoping that I wouldn't have to do anything strenuous like moving for at least a year or so. She said something, but I didn't quite catch it. I tried to ask her to repeat it, but that, too, was beyond me. In case you've missed it, I was more than a little exhausted. I closed my eyes, leaned against the wall, and concentrated on keeping my breathing even and shallow.

"I imagine," I said after a while, "they ought to be showing any second."

"The Jenoine?" asked Teldra. "Or our friends?"

"Both, I should imagine. At the same time, presumably, it's how it ought to work out."

"You're just saying that, Boss, because you know if you say it it won't happen that way."

"I'm an Easterner, chum. 1 can be superstitious if 1 want to."

I rested, and recovered, and felt hungry. I found some more dried gammon in my pouch and offered some to Teldra, who gratefully accepted; then I watched her attempt to eat it daintily. She succeeded. I'd have been more astonished if I could have spared the energy for astonishment.

"Well," I said, "the longer it takes them - any of them – to show up, the better for us." She nodded, and continued being dainty with dried gammon.

I wondered why she didn't make me feel rude and uncouth, but I suppose that was part of her talent. Or magic. You can always say it's magic if you don't understand it; and, who knows, you might be right. While we stayed there - free of the chains but unable to move (in my case, unable to move for a number of reasons) - my imagination took flight. I wondered what Morrolan and Aliera were doing. They must be with Sethra, talking things over, making plans. Had they made contact with Verra? Was she going to take an active role in this? How about the Necromancer?

I pictured the lot of them, sitting in the library at Castle Black, or in one of the sitting rooms at Dzur Mountain, or in Verra's Hall; planning, scheming, debating.

Or maybe they'd all just gone and decided to take a nap, figuring, hey, what's one Issola and one Easterner? Maybe they'll just leave us here.

Or maybe they were eating, the bastards.

Meanwhile, in this structure, or near it, perhaps the Jenoine were coming up with their own schemes, or chuckling about how well this one had worked (did Jenoine chuckle? I couldn't imagine it). Perhaps they, too, had forgotten us. Perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, we didn't matter. Verra had as much as told me that I mattered because she was going to make me matter. I had mixed feelings about this.

Eventually, various needs brought me to my feet; I carried one of the chamber pots into a corner of the place and relieved I myself, feeling like a drunk who's just staggered out of Coriaton’s Public House. Then I made it back, drank some water, and waited.

Time dragged, and my imagination soared, and I considered my Fate. Teldra remained silent, perhaps aware of my thoughts and not wishing to disturb them, or perhaps she was busy with her own thoughts. Even Loiosh remained still.

But considered who I was, and whether, when all was said
and done, I would make a difference in the world. I had rarely had such thoughts - lately I hadn't had time for them, and before that they had never occurred to me. But had Fate included me in its plans?

Did I even believe in Fate?

"Teldra, do you believe in Fate?"

My words shattered the stillness, like a sorcerous explosion, but she hardly blinked. She said, "In a sense."

"Yes?"

"I believe in paths and choices. I don't believe in an inescapable fate, but I believe we are each given several possible directions, and sometimes we choose one without being aware of having made the choice." I nodded. "I think I understand."

"But at other times, we know. Sometimes you realize you cannot stand still, and to move forward, or move back, or move to
the side will set you on a new path."

"Does it matter to you if you make a difference in the world?"

"I do make a difference, Lord Taltos."

"Vlad."

"Very well. Vlad. I make a difference whether I wish to or not. I hope to make a good difference, if only in a small way."

"I wonder," I said. "I wonder whether a small way is enough for
me. And I wonder if a big way is too much."

"Hmmm. What brought this up, if I may ask, Vlad?"

"I don't know. Too much time on my hands, boredom, and remembering my conversation with Verra."

"What about your conversation with Verra?"

"What she said about me being a tool."

"Oh," said Lady Teldra. "There is another thing about the Goddess."

"Yes?"

"Sometimes, when she speaks to us, we do not hear the same thing."

"I don't understand."

"It has been said that she speaks in words we can each understand, and that we will each understand her in our own way."

"Isn't that true of everyone?"

"Perhaps. But I didn't hear anything about you being a tool; I heard ... well, it doesn't matter what I heard."

"Hmmmm," I said wisely, and didn't press the matter, though I wanted to badly. "I think," I said, "that I may be approaching one of those decision points you were talking about."

"Maybe," she said. "But I suspect, my lord, that you made your decision some time ago, and are just now beginning to understand its significance."

I let that one float around for a bit, then felt myself snarling "All right, there's only so much of this I can take. I need to be doing something."

"You're feeling better, then?"

I considered, then said, "Yes, in fact, I am."

"Well then," said Teldra, "I am ready. But I don't know what we ought to be doing."

"It's not like I have a plan or anything," I said. "But it seems to me that, if we aren't going to just wait for our friends or our enemies, we should see if we can get out of this room."

"But then, will they be able to find us? Our friends, I mean."

"I hope so." I shrugged. "One would think that they could reach us psychically, if they were close enough." I stood up, moving slowly and carefully, and walked across the room to where my rapier lay, all unnoticed and neglected. I checked it - it was fine. I returned it to my sheath. Then I walked over to the Morganti dagger. I thought for a while, made a decision, then hesitated because I didn't want to, then made myself pick it up and put it into its sheath.

"I don't see any doors," said Teldra.

"Of course not," I told her. "That would make everything too easy." I stretched a bit - pleased to be up and around and walking. Teldra walked next to me, Loiosh on my shoulder, a rapier at my hip, a very strong Morganti dagger in a sheath next to it, Spellbreaker around my wrist, and my remaining couple of daggers concealed about my person. I felt ready for anything, as long as it wasn't too threatening.

We walked around the big, almost empty room, looking at walls, floor, and ceiling. It took a fair bit of time, but I didn't mind; I was pretty much recovered - though I felt generally sore and rather tired, and Loiosh had to keep reminding me to take shallow breaths. Except for the empty shelves placed here and there, seemingly at random, there wasn't much to see. Everything
was very plain, flat, featureless - depressing. Eventually we made it back to the place where we had been shackled. I said, "There's no way out." Teldra nodded.

"Which answers the question about whether the Jenoine have sorcery, I imagine."

"Sorcery," agreed Teldra, "or, at any rate, something very much like it. But I thought that had been answered when they first
appeared."

"Yeah. Or when they knocked me out. Okay. So, now what?"