Hawk (Vlad) (20 page)

“Wait, with what Daymar told you? When?”

“Today. He was very excited about that bit of work you had him do. So I put that together with—”

I swore. “Any idea who else he’s told?”

“No one. I impressed upon him the need to not talk about it to anyone but me.”

“Oh. Well, good. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But even knowing that, you had to guess—”

“Why you wanted that location? Yes. As I say, I wasn’t sure until now.”

“You’re looking smug,” I said.

“And with reason, don’t you think?”

I shook my head. “You continue to astound me.”

“I’ll be sad when I no longer do,” she said.

“Yeah, because it’ll mean I’m dead. Well, thank you.”

“Which way are you going?”

“Stonecutter.”

She nodded, found paper and wrote, then handed me a small note with a name and an address on it. Then she said, “There’s something I need from you.”

I nodded and waited.

“Okay, not true. Something I want from you.”

“A subtle distinction, but important. All right, I’m listening.”

“I want to try something with Lady Teldra.”

I studied her pale, angular face, framed in dark hair. Sometimes, like now, her eyes appeared to absorb light, rather than reflecting it; it was sort of creepy.

“Try what?”

“Reaching her.”

“Um. May I ask why?”

“Because Iceflame is bound up with the fate of the Empire, and Lady Teldra is bound up with the fate of the gods, and it will be useful for me to have a hint about how those will interact.”

“Do I want to understand that, Sethra?”

“No. But you do want me to try reaching Lady Teldra.”

“Not without me there,” I said.

“Of course. You can continue holding her. In fact, it’d be much better if you did.”

“All right, then. Oh, and I delivered your message.”

“Good.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Now?”

“If you would.”

I stood up and drew her; she took her original form—a long knife with too small a crossguard, and a hilt that was too light to balance properly; a knife that felt absolutely right in my hand for no reason that I’d ever been able to figure out. I suppose Great Weapons are like that.

Sethra also stood, and drew Iceflame. Morrolan tensed a little, and I wondered how Blackwand was reacting to all of this.

I’d been in the room before when Iceflame was taken from its sheath. I remember the feeling—like standing unarmed in front of a dzur whose hot breath and huge, sharp teeth were right in your face, and who gave every sign of being extremely displeased with you. Okay, well, no, I’ve never been in exactly that situation with a dzur, but you get the idea.

The point is, this time was different—like being twenty feet from a dzur who was sleeping. You don’t want to move, you wish you didn’t have to breathe, but you feel like maybe, if you’re careful, you won’t die right now.

Lady Teldra, that was the difference.

Sethra approached and extended Iceflame. “Cross the blades,” she said.

“Look,” I said. “I mean, I know you’re you, and I’m only me. But—”

“Yes, Vlad, I know what I’m doing.”

“All right.”

I glanced at Morrolan, hoping to judge something by his expression. If he was looking terrified, I’d feel my own nervousness was more reasonable, I guess. In fact, his expression reminded me uncomfortably of Daymar when confronting something that promised an interesting result. The association didn’t help, so I turned my focus back to Sethra. She was waiting patiently, Iceflame held out in front of her, not quite in a guard position, but close.

I took in a breath, let it out, then touched Iceflame’s blade with Lady Teldra’s.

Sethra picked herself up from the far wall.

All around me, the mountain shook, and I was convinced that I’d have fallen over if I’d had legs
.

I felt awful. I mean, really really awful, in both senses of the term.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” I said.

She picked herself up, wide-eyed, and said, “Vlad?”

“Sethra,” I said. “What happened?”

“I was going to ask you that. Did you just go flying across the room, and did the whole mountain tremble?”

She seemed shaken; seeing her shaken shook me. We both looked at Morrolan, who said, “Yes.”

“That’s what happened, then,” I told Sethra. I could hear my own voice quivering, so I decided not to speak any more. I wondered if my legs would support me yet.

“Boss?”

“You can’t blame me for this one, Loiosh. It was Sethra’s idea.”

“Sethra,” I said, “what did you expect to happen?” So much for not speaking any more.

“I was hoping to get a feel for Godslayer.”

“Her name,” I said, “is—”

“Lady Teldra,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded.

Sethra said, “When you said you didn’t mean to do that—”

“I didn’t.”

“I believe you. But—”

“No, I mean, I didn’t say that.” I got to my feet and made it to a chair.

“Oh,” she said. She sat down next to me. “Interesting,” she added, which has to go down as one of the great understatements of all time.

Yeah. Interesting.

I put Lady Teldra into her sheath.

I didn’t want to think too much about what had just happened, or about how I hadn’t died earlier, or, well, I didn’t want to think about much of anything except the task I’d set myself. It seemed like the universe wanted me to be thinking about other stuff.

“The universe,” I told Sethra, “is welcome to commit various improbable sexual acts on itself.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Morrolan coughed, and we both looked at him. “Yes?” I said.

“I wish to suggest,” he said, speaking slowly, “that whatever you did that flung you both against opposite walls and made the mountain shake, you not do again.”

“Good thinking,” I muttered.

11

M
AKING
P
ROGRESS
OR
M
AKING
T
HREATS

“I don’t have to,” said Sethra. “I got what I wanted.”

“Thrown against a wall?” I said. “I could have done that.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“What did you get?” said Morrolan.

Sethra looked at him, and her eyes were glistening. My heart suddenly started hammering as if I were in danger. I had never seen Sethra Lavode with tears in her eyes, nor had I ever thought to see such a thing, and it shook me like the mountain just had.

Morrolan met her eyes.

If at that moment someone had asked me what I wanted most in the world, getting out of trouble with the Jhereg would have been my second answer; my first would have been to not be in the room. But standing up and walking out felt a little too awkward.

“Teldra is really in there,” said Morrolan.

Sethra nodded.

“We knew that already,” he said.

“I know, but…”

“All right,” said Morrolan, and looked away. It seemed like he was working very hard not to look at me, and I was fine with that. There was a silence that I have to record as among the most uncomfortable ten seconds of my life—and remember that I’ve died a couple of times.

“Okay,” said Morrolan at last. “I’m sorry. It just hit me.”

“I know,” said Sethra. “Me, too.”

I thought the wall at the far end of the room was distressingly bare. It needed some art. What sort of art would go there? Maybe a ship at sea. Storm-tossed. Yeah, that would be good.

“All right,” said Morrolan, and I could see him put the whole matter on a shelf in his mind for later consideration. I wish I could do that. I guess I can do that. He said, “Let’s talk about Vlad’s problem.”

“Are you planning to help me too?”

“Of course not,” he said. “Now, what do you need?” There was a smirk hanging around the edge of his lips, but he kept it under wraps.

“As I said, I need rest. I have everything else pretty well covered. Especially now that Sethra’s pointed me to an artificer.”

“You have everything else you need for whatever it is you’re going to do?”

“No, not quite. I’ve been working with Daymar to collect things.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“What else do you need?”

“Something to make a thick cloud of smoke that doesn’t get blown away by the first gust of wind someone conjures up.”

“How big an area?”

“Not big. Diameter of forty feet should do it.”

“What form?”

“Something Loiosh can drop from a claw.”

“How long do you need it to last?”

“As long as possible.”

“Anything more than a couple of minutes would be difficult.”

“That’ll have to do, then.”

“Mind telling me why you need it?”

I shrugged. “Doing the spell is hard, but I should be able to manage it with the hawk’s egg and the sorcerous euphonium. But—”

“The which?” said Morrolan

“Never mind. Another thing. But there are ways things could go wrong, and I’m trying to come up with a means of staying alive if they do. Having a big cloud of smoke at hand might be useful.”

“All right. I can get that.”

“Thanks.”

“What else?”

“A cloak.”

“But you have—oh. What’s special about this one?”

“It needs to have a stiffened frame.”

“Vlad, if you’re trying to fly without sorcery, I can tell you—”

“Not fly; just not land so hard if I jump off a cliff. I probably won’t need it. I have an enchanted lockpick, and I can’t think of any way this will play out that I’ll need both of them; but I’m trying not to take chances. I’d rather not say more because if I tell you, you’ll laugh at me, call me an idiot, and refuse to have anything more to do with it.”

“All right,” he said. “A cloak that will slow a fall. All you need is a cloak with reinforced hems and throat closure, and a little padding or stiffening around the neck.”

“All right.”

“Does it need any other special features?”

He was asking about places to conceal weapons, and as he didn’t approve of concealing weapons, I allowed as to how that wasn’t important in this.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “I know someone.”

“Thank you.”

“When do you need it?”

“Soon. Tomorrow or early—what day is it?”

“Farmday.”

“Or early Endweek.”

He nodded. “That won’t be a problem,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Anything else?”

I shook my head.

“Boss?”

“There’s nothing else I’m willing to ask Morrolan for.”

“If you say so.”

“Vlad,” said Sethra.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to survive this?”

I hesitated, and decided she deserved an honest answer. “I need to be out and about to set this thing up, and there are a lot of Jhereg after me. For the most part, the ones who know enough about me to be a threat aren’t the ones who are willing to take any shot that presents itself; and the ones who are willing to take a shot, I can catch by surprise. But I don’t know how long this state of affairs will hold. I need a day or two. I think I have a pretty good chance.”

“You know, Vlad,” said Sethra, “one of us could hang around with you. Sort of help keep you alive.”

“There are things I’m doing that I couldn’t do if you or Morrolan were there.”

“All right. Is it really better than running, Vlad?”

“Obviously, I think it is, Sethra.”

“All right.”

Morrolan shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t speak.

I told him, “Yeah, I know. I’m being stubborn, and I’m being stupid.”

“You’re being an Easterner,” said Sethra.

“A Dragaeran wouldn’t do that?”

“A Dzurlord would,” said Morrolan. “Or a Dragonlord.”

I said, “If you’re saying I’m failing to behave like a Teckla, that isn’t a good way to change my actions.”

“I’m not sure I want to change your actions,” said Sethra.

“So, you like the idea of trying to end this?”

“If there’s a reasonable chance of it working.”

I didn’t ask her to define “reasonable.”

She chewed her lip. After a moment I said, “Well? What is it?”

“I wish I could help more,” she said.

I stood up and walked to the far end of the room, then came back. On a shelf to my right was a display of ceramic goblets of many colors, from many cultures, all of them imprinted with a symbol I’d never seen before. No doubt it was important and significant for something. I studied them for a little while. I noticed that I was drinking out of one of them now—a sort of deep purple mug, slightly tall and thin, with an elaborate handle.

I drank some more wine and turned around. Sethra and Morrolan were having some quiet conversation that didn’t concern me. I yawned. It hit me around then how very, very long it had been since I’d slept in a place where I was both comfortable and safe at the same time. It had been a long while. And I was more tired than I had any business being.

Aloud I said, “About that room—”

“Of course,” she said. Then, “Tukko, show Lord Taltos to a room, please.”

He didn’t look at me; just turned and led the way. He shuffled rather than walked, and didn’t appear to be hurrying; but I never had to wait for him. We walked down several short hallways, and eventually came to a door. He opened it and grunted at me.

I said, “I’ve never quite figured it out. Do you prefer to be called Chaz, or Tukko?”

In a voice like gravel, he said, “Depends who you’re talking to.”

“I mean, you.”

“They’re both me.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“I know,” he said, and turned back the way he came. I stepped out of his way, but a little too slowly, and his shoulder brushed mine. Lady Teldra twitched in her sheath—I mean, really twitched; it wasn’t like she was trying to leap free, it was more like the whole sheath jumped and twisted against my leg. At the same time, Rocza leapt from my shoulder, flew a few feet behind me, then came back. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that her head was moving and swaying furiously.

Tukko took a step back, his beady eyes wider than I’d ever seen them before. Rocza settled down on my shoulder with a halfhearted hiss.