The Book of Taltos (14 page)

“It’s complicated. Loraan put it there, though. He found it right after the Interregnum, in a peasant’s field somewhere. Now—”

“How did you know what the staff looks like?”

She gave me a scornful glance. “I can manage elementary divination, thank you.”

“Oh. Well, excuse me for living, all right?”

“I might.”

“So what is the state of her soul at the moment?”

She was silent for a few moments. Then she said, “Have you ever had cause to use a Morganti weapon?”

I held my face expressionless. “Maybe.”

“In any case, you are familiar with them?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you aware that Morganti weapons cannot destroy the soul of someone who is already dead?”

“Hmmm. I guess I’ve never thought about it. I’ve never had cause to go sticking Morganti weapons into corpses. It makes sense, though, I suppose.”

“It’s true. And yet the soul is still there, or else revivification would not be possible.”

“Okay. I’ll buy that.”

“And are you aware that sometimes the bodies of those highly respected by their House are sent over Deathgate Falls, there to walk the Paths of the Dead?”

“I’ve heard that, too.”

“So you can understand—”

“I understand that Easterners aren’t allowed to enter the Paths of the Dead, and that, in any case, no one except the Empress Zerika has emerged alive.”

“Both true,” said Sethra. “But those two facts, taken together, may indicate that an
Easterner
would be allowed to—”

“May?”

She hesitated. “I think it likely.”

“Great. And, for doing this, I get exactly what?”

“We can pay—”

“I don’t want to hear. Certain amounts of money are so high they become meaningless. Any less than that and I won’t do it.”

The two of them exchanged looks.

Morrolan said, “We’d very much like to convince you. It means a great deal to us, and there is no one else who can do it.”

“This conversation sounds really familiar.” I said. “You two had this in mind from the beginning, didn’t you?”

“We considered it a possibility,” said the Dark Lady of Dzur Mountain.

“And now you’re saying that you’ll kill me if I don’t do it.”

“No,” said Morrolan. “Only that we’ll be very grateful if you do.”

They were learning how to deal with me. This could be good or bad, I suppose. I said, “Your gratitude would be nice, but if I’m already dead—”

“I think you can survive,” said Sethra.

“How?”

“I’ve been there. I can tell you which paths to take and which to avoid, and warn you of dangers you are likely to encounter and how to protect yourself. That will leave you with only one danger, and I think the fact that you are an Easterner, who doesn’t belong there, will be enough to—”

“What danger is that?”

“From those who run the place. The Lords of Judgment.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. There was a sharp intake of breath from Chaz, who’d been standing in his usual position during the whole interchange. I said, “The Lords of Judgment?”

“You know,” said Sethra. “The gods.”

I noticed that the stiletto I’d stuck in the ground was vibrating, and I wondered what that meant. After a moment, I detected a low-pitched hum. I concentrated on it until I could pick out the beats.

Beats
 . . .

Now, there was an idea.

I concentrated on the rhythm and held out my left hand, palm up. I concentrated on the humming and held out my right hand, palm up. I brought my hands together, turning them over so the palms met. Behind me, I felt Loiosh spreading his wings and collapsing them. My eyes closed as if of their own accord. I realized I was starting to feel fatigued, which frightened me, and I still had a great deal to do.

I don’t know which changed, but now the humming worked with the rhythm I’d established.

I wondered how I’d write this up in a spell book, if I ever chose to do so.

“
F
INE
,” I
SAID
. “No problem. You mean I have nothing at all to worry about except a few gods? Well, in that case I don’t see how it could go wrong. Sure, sign me up.”

I was being sarcastic, in case it escaped you. I found myself glancing over at Chaz to see if he appreciated it, but I couldn’t tell.

Sethra said, “I don’t think it’s quite as gruesome as that.”

“Oh.”

Morrolan said, “Show him the staff.”

“I can see it from here,” I said, looking at it next to Sethra’s hand. Sethra ignored my comment and picked it up, held it out to me.

I said, “This person’s soul is in there?”

“Yes,” said Sethra. “Take it.”

“Why?”

“To see if you feel anything.”

“What am I supposed to feel?”

“Perhaps nothing. You won’t know unless you hold it.”

I sighed and took the thing. Since she’d spoken about feeling something, I was very much aware of the smooth finish, and that the thing was slightly cold. I’d held it before, but I’d been rather busy at the time. It was a light-colored wood, probably diamond willow.

“Feel anything, Loiosh?”

“I’m not sure, boss. Maybe. I think so.”

Then I became aware of it, too. Yes, there was some sort of presence, seemingly dwelling at my fingertips. Strange. I was even getting a vague sense of personality; fiery, quick-tempered. A Dragon, certainly.

Also, to my surprise, I felt an instant sympathy; I’m still not sure why. I handed the staff back to Sethra and said, “Yeah, I felt something.”

She said, “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Will you do it?”

“Are you crazy? You’ve said no one except Zerika has—”

“I’ve also explained why I think you’ll live through it.”

I snorted. “Sure. All right, I’ll do it—if you’ll go along to protect me.”

“Don’t be absurd,” snapped Sethra. “If I could go, there would be no need for you in the first place.”

“Fine,” I said. “Then I’ll take Morrolan.” I smirked, which I’m beginning to think is always an error when dealing with Dragonlords. I think I caught Chaz smirking, but I can’t be sure.

Sethra and Morrolan exchanged glances. Then, “Very well,” said Morrolan. “I agree.”

I said, “Wait a minute—”

Sethra said, “Morrolan, the Lords of Judgment won’t let you leave.”

“Then so be it.”

Sethra said, “But—”

I said, “But—”

“We’ll leave tomorrow,” Morrolan told me. “We’d best get you back at once to prepare for the journey.”

K
IERA THE
T
HIEF’S LONGISH
face was mostly concealed by a cowl as she towered over me, and her voice was low, not quite a whisper. “Hello, Vlad.”

“Thank you.”

She said, “So you know.”

“I know it must have been you who spoke to Nielar about me. Thanks.”

“I hope I’m doing you a favor,” she said.

“Me, too. Why do you think you might not be?”

“Working for the Jhereg can be dangerous.”

“I beat up Dragaerans anyway, every chance I get. Why not get paid for it?”

She studied my face. “Do you hate us so much?”

“Them, not you.”

“I am Dragaeran.”

“You still aren’t one of them.”

“Perhaps not.”

“In any case, I need to make money if I’m going to stay out of the Easterners’ ghetto.”

“I know.” I saw the flash of her teeth. “It wouldn’t be proper for you to live there. You are a nobleman, after all.”

I smiled back.

She said, “There are things I can teach you that will help.”

“I’d like that,” I said. “You’re very kind.”

“I like you.”

She’d said that before. I often wondered why. I wondered how old she was, too. But these were questions I didn’t ask.

I said, “Well, wish me luck.”

“Yes. There are a few things I should tell you now, though.”

I was anxious to get going, but I’m not stupid. Kiera the Thief doesn’t waste words. I said, “All right.”

“The important thing is this, Vlad: Don’t let your anger get the best of you. Dead men can’t pay, and you won’t earn if you don’t deliver. And if you can get what you want without hurting someone, your employer will appreciate it. You may not realize it, but every time a Jhereg has to use violence, he’s taking chances. They don’t like that. Okay?”

“Okay.” As she spoke, it struck me that in less than an hour, probably, I was going to be facing down and perhaps attacking someone I’d never met before. It seemed awfully cold-blooded. But, well, tough. I said, “What else?”

“Do you know anything about the Left Hand of the Jhereg?”

“Ummm . . . the what?”

“You don’t, then. Okay. The Organization as you know it makes its money by providing goods and services that are either illegal or highly taxed, right?”

“I guess so. I’d never thought of it that way, but sure.”

“Think of it that way. Now, the one exception is sorcery. There are sorcerous activities that are, as you know, illegal. Sorcerously aiding another illegal act, bending someone’s will, and so forth.” She spread her palms. “As the Demon says, ‘Whenever they make a new law, they create a new business.’”

“Who said that?”

“The Demon.”

“Who’s he?”

“Never mind. In any case, the Left Hand of the Jhereg is mostly made up of women—I’m not sure why. They deal in illegal magic.”

“I see.”

“Stay away from them. You aren’t up to fighting them, and you don’t know enough to protect yourself from their machinations.”

I said, “Yeah. I’ll remember. Thanks, Kiera.”

Her cowl nodded. She peered at me from within, then said, “Good luck, Vlad.” She merged with the shadow of the building and was gone.

H
OW OUGHT ONE TO
prepare for a journey to the land of the dead?

I mean, I know how to get ready to go out on the town, and I know how to get ready to kill someone, and I even have some idea of how to prepare for a night spent in the jungle. But if you’re going to visit the shades of the once living, the servitors of the dead, and the gods, what do you want to bring with you? How ought you to dress?

I wore my Jhereg colors, with a stylized jhereg on the back of the grey cloak I wear when I want to carry concealed this and that with me, and black Eastern riding boots that are comfortable, even if I wasn’t going to be doing any riding—which was just as well. I’ve been on horseback before and if I never am again, that’ll be fine. Just don’t tell my grandfather I said that. He thinks Fenarians are supposed to be naturally great horsemen.

I wondered at Morrolan’s agreement to accompany me. From everything I understood, his chances of emerging alive were worse than mine, and mine didn’t seem to be all that good. I mean, Sethra had never actually
said
I’d be safe from the gods.

The gods. This was silly. I had occasionally joined my grandfather in our private family rituals, asking for the protection of Verra, the Demon Goddess, but I’d never been more than half convinced of her existence. Many Easterners I knew believed in one or more of the gods, and even those who didn’t dropped their voices when naming them. But
all
Dragaerans seemed to believe in them, and spoke about them in such matter-of-fact tones that I wondered if, to a Dragaeran, the term “god” was all but meaningless. Someday, I decided, I’d have to investigate this.