The Book of Taltos (31 page)

By the time his body was found, I’d already moved into his office. Why? I don’t know. I guess I just decided I’d rather work for me than for anyone else I could think of.

I
CAN’T RECALL WHEN
we left the woods, but I do remember being carried through a cave. Morrolan tells me I pointed the way to it, so I don’t know. The next clear memory I have is lying on my back staring up at the orange-red Dragaeran sky and hearing Morrolan say, “Okay, I know where we are.”

A teleport must have followed that, but I have no memory of it, which is just as well.

K
RAGAR JOINED ME RIGHT
away when I took over from Tagichatin and, to my surprise and pleasure, Nielar showed more loyalty to me than I would have expected from a former boss. Of course, I had some problems getting started, as there were several people in my organization who had trouble taking an Easterner seriously as a boss.

I changed their minds without killing any of them, which I think was quite an accomplishment. In fact, I didn’t have any major problems running my area—until a certain buttonman named Quion had to ruin it all.

S
ETHRA
L
AVODE
,
THE
E
NCHANTRESS
, the Dark Lady of Dzur Mountain, studied me from beneath her lashes. I wondered why she hadn’t asked what I’d given Morrolan, and decided that she either guessed what it was or knew I wouldn’t answer. I was feeling belligerent, though I’m not sure why. Maybe it had something to do with having been assisted out of the Paths of the Dead by Morrolan and Aliera, I don’t know.

These two worthies were watching Sethra’s face as they concluded the tale. We were sitting, quite comfortably, in the library at Dzur Mountain. Chaz served wine and blinked a lot and loudly sucked his lips.

“I am pleased,” said Sethra at last. “Aliera, your presence is required by the Empire.”

“So I’m given to understand,” said Aliera.

“What are the rest of us, roast kethna?”

“Shut up, Loiosh,”
I said, though I tended to share his sentiments.

“And, Vlad,” continued Sethra, “I am in your debt. And I don’t say that lightly. If you think this can’t help you, you are a fool.”

Morrolan said, “She speaks for me, also.”

I said, “That I’m a fool?”

He didn’t answer. Aliera said, “I owe you something, too. Perhaps someday I’ll pay you.”

I licked my lips. Was there a threat in there? If so, why? They were all looking at me, except for Chaz, who seemed to be looking for insects in a corner. I didn’t know what to say, so I said, “Fine. Can I go home now?”

I
RECOVERED MOST OF
the money Quion had taken, so I guess that worked out all right. I don’t think it’s hurt my reputation any. I’ve seen Morrolan a couple of times since then, and he’s okay for a Dragaeran. He suggested getting together with Sethra and Aliera a few times, but I think I’ll pass for the moment.

I told Kiera I’d lost the bottle, but, oddly enough, she didn’t seem disturbed. I never
have
told Morrolan what was in it. Whenever he asks, I just smile and look smug. I don’t know, maybe I’ll tell him one of these days. Then again, maybe not.

Contract Negotiations

M
AYBE IT’S JUST ME
, but it seems like when things are going wrong—your wife is ready to leave you, all of your notions about yourself and the world are getting turned around, everything you trusted is becoming questionable—there’s nothing like having someone try to kill you to take your mind off your problems.

I was in an ugly, one-story wood-frame building in South Adrilankha. Whoever was trying to kill me was a better sorcerer than me. I was in the cellar, squatting behind the remains of a brick wall, just fifteen feet from the foot of the stairs. If I stuck my head out the door again, it might well get blasted off. I intended to call for reinforcements just as soon as I could. I also intended to teleport out of there just as soon as I could. It didn’t look like I’d be able to do either one any time soon.

But I was not helpless. At just such times as these, a witch may always take comfort in his familiar. Mine is a jhereg—a small, poisonous flying reptile whose mind is psychically linked to my own, and who is, moreover, brave, loyal, trustworthy—

“If you think I’m going out there, boss, you’re crazy.”

Okay, next idea.

I raised as good a protection spell as I could (not very), then took a brace
of throwing knives from inside my cloak, my rapier from its scabbard, and a deep breath from the clammy basement air. I leapt out to my left, rolling, coming to my knee, throwing all three knives at the same time (hitting nothing, of course; that wasn’t the point), and rolling again. I was now well out of the line of sight of the stairway—both the source of the attack and the one path to freedom. Life, I’ve found, is often like that. Loiosh flapped over and joined me.

Things sizzled in the air. Destructive things, but I think meant only to let me know the sorcerer was still there. It wasn’t like I’d forgotten. I cleared my throat. “Can we negotiate?”

The masonry of the wall before me began to crumble away. I did a quick counterspell and held myself answered.

“All right, Loiosh, any bright ideas?”

“Ask them to surrender, boss.”

“Them?”

“I saw three.”

“Ah. Well, any other ideas?”

“You’ve tried asking your secretary to send help?”

“I can’t reach him.”

“How about Morrolan?”

“I tried already.”

“Aliera? Sethra?”

“The same.”

“I don’t like that, boss. It’s one thing for Kragar and Melestav to be tied up, but—”

“I know.”

“Could they be blocking psionics, as well as teleportation?”

“Hmmm. I hadn’t thought of that. I wonder if it’s possib—”
Our chat was interrupted by a rain of sharp objects, sorcerously sent around the corner behind which I hid. I wished fervently that I were a better sorcerer, but I managed a block, while letting Spellbreaker, eighteen inches of golden chain, slip down into my left hand. I felt myself becoming angry.

“Careful, boss. Don’t—”

“I know. Tell me something, Loiosh: Who are they? It can’t be Easterners, because they’re using sorcery. It can’t be the Empire, because the Empire
doesn’t ambush people. It can’t be the Organization, because they don’t do this clumsy, complicated nonsense, they just kill you. So who is it?”

“Don’t know, boss.”

“Maybe I’ll take a longer look.”

“Don’t do anything foolish.”

I made a rude comment to that. I was seriously upset by this time, and I was bloody well going to do
something,
stupid or not. I set Spellbreaker spinning and hefted my blade. I felt my teeth grinding. I sent up a prayer to Verra, the Demon-Goddess, and prepared to meet my attackers.

Then something unusual happened.

My prayer was answered.

I
T WASN’T LIKE
I’
D
never seen her before. I had once traveled several thousand miles through supernatural horrors and the realm of dead men just to bid her good-day. And, while my grandfather spoke of her with reverence and awe, Dragaerans spoke of her and her ilk like I spoke about my laundry. What I’m getting at is that there was never any doubt about her real, corporeal existence; it’s just that although it was my habit to utter a short prayer to her before doing anything especially dangerous or foolhardy, nothing like this had ever happened before.

Well, I take that back. There might have been once when—no, it couldn’t have been. Never mind. Different story.

In any case, I found myself abruptly elsewhere, with no feeling of having moved and none of the discomfort that we Easterners, that is, humans, feel when teleporting. I was in a corridor of roughly the dimensions of the dining hall of Castle Black. All of it white. Spotless. The ceiling must have been a hundred feet above me, and the walls were at least forty feet apart, with white pillars in front of them, perhaps twenty feet between each. Perhaps. It may be that my senses were confused by the pure whiteness of everything. Or it may be that everything reported by my senses was meaningless in that place. There was no end to the hallway in either direction. The air was slightly cool, but not uncomfortable. There was no sound except my own breathing, and that peculiar sensation you have when you don’t know whether you’re hearing your heart beat or feeling it.