Hawk

8

I emptied the brazier and filled it again from the bucket of charcoal. I found the candles, and placed them, black and white, around the brazier. Then I took the amulet off. I mean, they knew where I was anyway, right?

“Loiosh, don’t monitor the spell. I need you checking for anyone about to show up and ruin my party or anything coming from outside that might, you know, hurt me.”

“I can do that, Boss. But…”

“Yeah?”

“Sure you’ll be all right, Boss? It’s been years since-”

“Yeah, I think so. It should be pretty straightforward.”

There wasn’t all that much in the way of supplies, but a spell like this didn’t call for much; I found what I needed and arranged it in front of the brazier.

Since I had my link to the Orb back, I used it to light the charcoal, and then the candles, moving wrongwise around the circle. I took the knife in my left hand, gripping it by the blade, the hilt held over the fire. Fennel and caraway went in, along with a little rosemary just because it smelled good. It’s a lot like cooking. Well, no, it isn’t at all like cooking, but you use some of the same things.

I sat cross-legged in front of the brazier, watching the coals glow and inhaling the smoke. The knife felt slightly heavy, but that’s because I’m a little guy, at least compared to Dragaerans. The blade in my hand no longer felt cold. I was touching Kragar’s blood, the smoke was curling around sweat and skin oil of whoever had used the weapon.

My breathing was even and deep: in through the nose, out through the mouth. My breath disturbed the dark gray smoke billowing up, wrapped up with traces of someone, someone who killed for money, just like I do, I mean did, but if you kill, I mean, if you actually go out and just put a knife into someone, does it make that much difference why? There were whys drifting in the smoke, in my eyes. I was no longer in the musty basement, I was gone, lost in my head among a corridor of whys. It doesn’t make any difference to the guy you’ve just shined why you did it. Money. Honor. Duty. Or maybe the pleasure of knowing that, just for a second, you’re the most important thing in someone’s life. I’ve known guys like that. Worked with them. Hired them. What did that make me? Bullshit question. I reached to secure the connection to my target, to give it tangibility. Some things you have to do-you either do them, or live with the Empire’s foot on your head. I didn’t choose to live that way, so I did what I had to. Maybe this guy was like that, too. Or maybe he killed for one of those other reasons. It didn’t matter, but then again it did-it mattered because I had to secure him, to bring him to me, to turn wisps of dark gray smoke harsh and burning in my nose, my eyes, in the air, in my mind, floating, drifting, letting it happen, no longer aware of my heartbeat, my breathing, my body, turn that into who and what he was. Nothing and nowhere, everything and everywhere, and I was studying the image that had formed in my head before I was consciously aware that it was there.

No, “image” isn’t exactly the right word. It was more like a feel, or a taste of his presence. Not much, but it was something. All I needed to do was-

Oops.

This was where I turn the sense of presence into a psychic impression embedded in a crystal. Only I’d forgotten the part about having a crystal ready. You get out of practice with this stuff.

I could say that I held the spell together while I tried to figure out what to do, but that wouldn’t give you any idea of how hard it is to maintain awareness of something as nebulous as another’s consciousness while, you know, thinking. I could have dropped the spell and just done it again, but I was too irritated. I fumbled with the drawstring of my pouch and managed to find a coin. I used that.

In the end it worked fine, and I let the spell drop, feeling exhausted and embarrassed. Loiosh snickered into my mind, but didn’t say anything. I think it was his sense of self-preservation.

“Anything, Loiosh?”

“You were spotted, Boss, but no attacks.”

“Good, then.”

“Uh, going to put that thing on again?”

“In a sec. Might as well save you a trip.”

“Make it fast, Boss. They’re bound to be setting something up.”

“Yeah,” I said. “They always are.”

I waited a few minutes until the hour. Daymar and I had left things undecided, but maybe he was opening up anyway. I reached out for him, and yeah, there he was. Without his shields, it’s like a fish that goes for your line if it’s anywhere in the lake. (Yes, I fished once. I didn’t care for it.)

“Hello, Vlad. You require something?”

“If you aren’t busy, I need someone located. I have-”

“A psychic impression embedded in a crystal?”

“Actually, in a one-orb coin.”

“Oh? Why a coin?”

“An experiment. I’ve always wanted to try that spell with objects other than crystals, and this seemed like a good opportunity.”

“All right. Where are you?”

“My old offices.”

“I’ll be there.”

I was going to thank him, but his presence was already gone from my mind. I put the amulet back on, feeling a certain amount of tension go out of my shoulders.

“Hey, Boss, what about the other spell?”

“The oth-crap. I forgot about it.”

“Are you going to have to do this all over again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask Morrolan for help. I don’t want to think about it right now.”

He let it drop. I went back upstairs to wait for Daymar.

I checked in on Kragar, who was asleep in his chair, but seemed to be doing all right. His people walked past, checking on him, milling about. I couldn’t quite read the looks they gave me, but they weren’t openly hostile. But if the only reason they hadn’t turned on me before was because Kragar had told them not to, and if he was no longer in shape to tell them not to, and if they realized that it was my fault that he was no longer there to tell them not to, things could get interesting.

That’s interesting as in, “Oh, I’m dead now and my soul has been destroyed. How interesting.”

The guy who appeared to be in charge was called Sellish. I told him a guy named Daymar might be appearing, that he was with me, and that we were going to find out who wanted Kragar shined.

“Good,” he said and seated himself next to Kragar’s desk. I’d been impressed with how well Kragar had done taking over the area, but it wasn’t until now, when he was laid up, that it really hit me how much in control he was. I made a mental note not to tell him so. But it meant there was a good chance none of his people would betray me, kill me, or do other unpleasant things.

There were a few padded chairs in front of the desk in the other room-the desk that, in my mind, I still saw Melestav sitting at. I indulged in a moment’s annoyance about him. I hate it when someone I like … yeah, skip it. Moment over. Then Daymar came tromping up the stairs. I heard the footsteps before I knew who it was.

“Hello, Vlad.”

“Daymar. Here.” I tossed him the coin. He missed it, but levitated it back into his hand before it hit the floor. I suspect he missed it on purpose, just so he could do that. He studied it.

“Hm,” he said.

“Can you use it?”

“Oh, yes. It’s surprising how well it took the impression.”

“Good.”

“His name is Havric. Right now he’s at a place called the Front Gate in Little Deathgate, having drinks with two other Jhereg.”

He waited and looked at me.

“Daymar.”

“Vlad?”

“You’re very good at what you do.”

“I know.”

“Feel like a walk to Little Deathgate?”

“Can’t we teleport?”

“Not while I wear this thing.”

“Um, couldn’t you take it off?”

“We’ve had this conversation, Daymar.”

“Oh, right. Walk, then. But what if they see you?”

“Yeah. Mind putting a bit of cloud over me?”

“Sure.”

I took the amulet off so he could work. My vision blurred, then cleared. Daymar said, “That’s odd.”

Okay, sorry, I need to explain something.

The simplest way to not be seen is an invisibility spell, making light bend around you. The better you are, the tighter the bend you can get and so the less chance there is of someone noticing a distortion, but even sloppy it’s easy to do and effective. The only trouble is, if you happen to walk by someone with a reasonable amount of skill in sorcery, you’re going to stick out like a kethna at court. Even when I’m wearing the amulet, Lady Teldra can identify an invisibility spell in the area if she’s paying any attention at all. The best way to deal with that is to plant a field around you that absorbs the sorcerous energy. It isn’t easy, because it requires getting into your mind and folding-well, skip it. It’s hard. I can’t do it. Daymar can.

“What’s odd?”

“Your head-there was a wall in it.”

“A wall? How could there be-oh, right. Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“All right.”

I replaced the amulet. We stepped onto the street, and I found myself staring at my left palm.

“I’ve remembered and forgotten this once before.”

“Brought back memories, did he, Boss?”

“Yeah.”

“Now probably isn’t the time.”

“Right.”

Loiosh and Rocza were flying above us, keeping an eye out. I walked next to Daymar, making sure I didn’t bump into anyone and hoping I was as invisible as I should be but didn’t feel. We turned north onto Backin, which was narrow enough that it was tricky not running into people who didn’t know I was there, so I stepped behind Daymar.

It felt like a longer walk than it actually was, what with feeling like an idiot walking in Daymar’s footsteps. The invisibility was a blessing in more ways than one.

The Front Gate was on top of a butcher’s shop. You climb three steps from the street and enter a long, thin room, with a bar running half the length. Rocza flew off to wait, Loiosh hid in my cloak. As we entered, Daymar looked around before my eyes had a chance to adjust and said, “There, in the back.”

“All right. Make me visible again.”

“Might be more fun the other way, you know.”

Daymar was surprising me in all sorts of ways.

“More fun,” I agreed, “but less efficient.”

“All right,” he said, and the air in front of my eyes swirled for a moment. We approached the table.

The three of them were looking at us as we walked up, but no one reached for a weapon. We stopped about six feet away. They remained seated. “Havric,” I said.

The one with short, red hair cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Something I can do for you, Taltos?”

“A pleasure to be recognized,” I said. “Yeah. Who paid you to put a shine on Kragar?”

Nothing. No reaction at all. “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” he said.

I gave Daymar an inquiring look.

“Got it,” said Daymar.

They all looked at him. Loiosh climbed out of my cloak and positioned himself on my shoulder.

“Sorry for the mix-up,” I said. I smiled, bowed, and turned around, listening hard for any scary sounds. There were none; we made it out onto the street, Daymar made me vanish again.

“I hope this’ll be enough,” I said. “We aren’t going to be able to pull that off again.”

“Enough?”

“I hope the name you got will be enough to get me there.”

“Get you there? I have the person who hired him.”

“I know. I hope that’s enough.”

“I don’t understand. Isn’t the person who hired him what you want?”

“No, I want to know who hired the guy to hire the guy to hire him.”

“Seems awfully complicated.”

“That’s how Jhereg do things.”

“Why?”

“Did you know that assassination is against the law?”

He hesitated, considered, nodded.

“The Empire becomes very sad when you kill someone for money. They do all sorts of things to discourage that kind of behavior. This leads to those who want it done taking some pains to be sure that the Empire doesn’t know they did it. Am I going too fast for you?”

“No, no. I’ve got it so far.”

“That’s why it’s so complicated. So the guy who orders it doesn’t want it known that he ordered it, so he has someone else get someone else to get someone else to do it.”

“Oh.” He considered. “Makes sense.”

“That’s a relief. What name did you get?”

“Yestac. Know him?”

“Yeah.”

“Know who he works for?”

“Yeah.”

Yestac worked for Taavith, also called “Flatstones.” Flatstones had a big section of Adrilankha running from the South Hills all the way to Overlook, and as far inland as the Terrace. He gave a percentage to a guy named Krasno, who was on the Council. I didn’t know a lot about Krasno, and I didn’t have Kragar to collect information. Bugger. I thought about it as we walked, and for a wonder, Daymar was quiet and let me think.

We made it back to Kragar’s place without any trouble. Daymar asked if he could do anything else for me, and I bit my tongue and just said no. Then I thanked him, politely, because that’s the kind of guy I am.

I went up to see Kragar. He wasn’t there. I was just settling in for a good panic attack when one of Kragar’s people stuck his head around the corner and said, “Sellish said to tell you we’ve taken the boss home.”

“His home?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I-”

“The boss said you were welcome there, if you want.”

My heart returned to its normal speed.

“We could take you there,” he said, and I had an image of myself walking down the street to an unknown destination surrounded by guys who could make enough to live in luxury for the rest of their lives just by putting a shine on me, or even stepping aside while someone else did.

“Sure,” I said.

He nodded and gathered up three others, and they escorted me down the stairs and out onto the street.

“For someone worried about the Jhereg, you sure are spending a lot of time parading in front of them.”

“I have absolutely no fear. Oh, come on, Loiosh, it wasn’t that funny. Last time I was invisible. This time I have protection.”

“If you have protection.”

I had no answer for that.

We didn’t have far to walk; in ten minutes we were at a tidy little rooming house on Garshos. We entered the front door, and Sellish went up to the first door on the right. He clapped, then opened the door.

My first thought was, I wonder what he does with all of his money? He certainly didn’t have any of it invested in his home. He was lying on the bed-one of three pieces of furniture in the place. The others were a single chair, and a table; neither of them looking like they cost more than six coppers.

“I see why you spend so much time at the office,” I told him.

“This isn’t where I live, Vlad. It’s just where I sleep.”

I nodded. “Right. The other place is where you stash your various mistresses and the Kathana paintings and the big wine cellar.”

He looked over at me, then turned his head back to stare at the ceiling. He was flat on his back, but his eyes were clear. He gave me an appropriate answer.

“I don’t bend that way,” I said. I grabbed the chair, pulled it up next to his bed, sat down, and crossed my legs. “So, how are you feeling?”

He used a bad word.

“Good to hear,” I said.

“You aren’t here to check on my health. What is it?”

“I’m here to check on your health.”

“Right.”

I shrugged. “I can make something else up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d like that. It would help my recovery.”

“Okay. Can I borrow six tablespoons of Eastern red pepper?”

“No.”

“All right.”

“Vlad, do you remember when it meant something to be a Jhereg? When there was honor, and-”

“Kragar?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Seeing if I could convince you I was dying.”

“You had me half convinced you were off your head; does that count?”

“Better than nothing. What have you learned?”

“About what?”

He turned his head to look at me.

“The shiner was a guy named Havric.”

“Hired by?”

“How would I know that?”

“Vlad-”

“Yestac.”

“Don’t know him,” said Kragar. “Can’t think of anything I ever said about his mother.”

“Flatstones,” I said.

“Ah,” said Kragar.

“Yeah,” I said. “That means Krasno.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Kragar. “It means Terion.”

“Huh?”

“Flatstones used to work for Terion, and they’re still close.”

I opened my mouth to ask Kragar how he knew that, then shut it again. Finding out things like that is what Kragar did before I sort of donated the area to him; what possible reason could he have for stopping?

But. Terion.

Not long ago, during a conflict over South Adrilankha, I’d come close to putting a shine on him. I’d started in to do it, too, only, in the end, events had dictated otherwise. Matters had gotten complex. I’d had to-no, never mind. That really is a long story.

The point is, I’d been running into him for years. We didn’t like each other, and we kept getting in each other’s way. Now he’d taken a shot at Kragar, and it would have worked if I hadn’t known one of the Empire’s leading experts in healing magic.

I was suddenly convinced that he was the one who was spending so much money to get me. Because he could. I had no evidence, but I knew I was right.

I was getting tired of the guy.

“Terion,” I said aloud. “He really does seem to keep popping up in my life. Is it personal, do you think?”

“Does it matter?”

“It might. Tactically.”

He shrugged, then winced; I could see him deciding not to do that anymore.

Terion. The guy kept showing up and getting in my way. He didn’t like me. And he could seriously mess up this thing I was working on.

Loiosh spoke into my mind. “We could, I don’t know, kill him.”

… You could always kill someone high up in the Organization.

Yeah, and then what? Would I have to kill Krasno too, if they were friends? Could I, in fact, kill either of them? And what would happen afterward? Occasionally, killing someone is the natural culmination of a complex series of events; more often it’s the midpoint-it has repercussions. Consequences flow out from it. When I was just taking someone’s money to do a job, they weren’t my consequences, so I didn’t have to worry. I was just a tool.

But still, this was different. It was all about me, and anything that happened would be my problem. Killing Terion could, for all I knew, set off a chain of events that would be as bad as …

As not killing him.

But I’d already said I needed something to stir up the Jhereg, to distract them.

Well, okay; two reasons to kill him, about ninety against.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s kill him.”

Nothing. Then, “Boss, you mean it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been waiting for this day. I’m so proud of you. I knew that eventually-”

“Shut up, Loiosh.”

“Shutting up, Boss.”

I looked over at Kragar. “Can I get you anything?” I said.

Sellish cleared his throat.

I looked at him. “Sorry,” I said.

He nodded.

Kragar said, “It’s all right, Vlad. Just don’t make any more trouble for me, all right?” He frowned. “No, forget I said that. I changed my mind. Make more trouble. I’m in a mood.”

“I can do that,” I said.

“Let me know how it comes out.”

“Oh, you’ll hear,” I said, and headed out. The toughs who had escorted me over escorted me back. There was no trouble, but I could see the tension in their shoulders. It was good to get back to Kragar’s office, where I felt safe. Safer. A little safer.

“I think I liked Dzur Mountain better, Boss.”

“Who didn’t? But it’s a bit too far from the action.”

“What action?”

“Killing Terion.”

“Oh, right.”

I was sitting there, trying to work out exactly how I was going to do that, when one of Kragar’s people came up to me. “Sellish says I’m supposed to ask if you need anything,” he said.

A few sarcastic comments came to mind, but he was big and his shoulders were very wide and he was dressed to conceal and I saw no signs that he had a sense of humor.

“What’s your name?”

“Deragar.”

I nodded. “Ever heard of a guy named Terion?”

He nodded. “I know who he is.”

“Can you find out where he lives? Where he goes, and when he goes there? What kind of-”

He was holding out some paper. I took it. Three leaves, closely written, with perfect penmanship. I looked them over. Favorite place to drink and what he liked to drink there. Friends and lovers, where they lived, where he liked to meet them. Who cut his hair, who made his clothes. His bodyguards, and where they lived, and more. Substantially more.

“Yeah,” I said. “Like this.”

“Anything else, m’lord?”

“How did you know-Kragar?”

“Got the message before you showed up, m’lord.”

“Fast work,” I said.

“A good number of us on it, in pieces.”

“He’s gotten good at this,” I remarked. Deragar nodded. I didn’t say so, but I was also thinking that it was a bit scary, how well Kragar knew me.

“All right,” I said. “Let me look this stuff over and get back to you. It was Deragar, right?”

He nodded.

I went into Kragar’s office, started to sit behind his desk, then changed my mind and took the chair on the other side. I studied the information Deragar had gotten.

“What do you think, Boss?”

“I wish Kragar were feeling better. Then I’d ask him to talk to Mario.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah. Bodyguards I can’t buy, sorcery protection, he avoids regular patterns. May be open to witchcraft attacks, but it wouldn’t be easy because he has psychic protections. Very tough.”

“You’ve handled tough before, Boss.”

“I’m out of practice.”

“Yeah, you are.”

I went over the intelligence again.

“Do you think if I asked Aliera very nicely, she’d put me in touch with Mario?”

“Knowing you’d want him to assassinate someone? Not a chance, Boss.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Okay, next idea: Maybe I can pull the deal with the Jhereg without handling Terion.”

“Maybe,” said Loiosh, sounding deeply and passionately convinced.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Okay, I guess not. But my focus still has to be on pulling off this move.”

“Be harder if you’re dead.”

“Yeah, it-wait. Maybe not.”

“Seriously, Boss? The whole faking-your-own-death thing? Do you really think that will work with these people?”

“What if it isn’t faked?”

“Boss, what are you-you mean like Mellar?”

“Yeah.”

“That seems like a really, really bad idea.”

“Yeah.”

Many years ago-seems like lifetimes ago-when everything was simpler, I had dealt with a complicated problem by arranging for Aliera to be killed by a Morganti blade, gambling that Aliera’s Great Weapon, Pathfinder, would protect her soul. It had worked. Now I had a Great Weapon, Lady Teldra, and I was thinking that I could do the same thing. Faking my death would buy me time to put my plan into action without worrying about the Jhereg trying to kill me.

I tried not to think about the fact that I would have to kind of let myself get stabbed with a Morganti blade to pull it off. I mean, Aliera had done that without blinking; was she any braver than me?

Yes, in fact. A lot braver. But maybe I could do it. Maybe.

“You know, Boss. If that will work, then it will work any time. You don’t have to go out of your way-”

“Aliera said she had to communicate with Pathfinder, to prepare her.”

“Boss, can you communicate with Lady Teldra?”

“Well, no, not exactly. I mean, sometimes it seems like-”

“Boss.”

“You’re saying it’s a bad risk.”

“Boss, even by your usual standards of bad risks, this one is just stupid.”

Okay, well, the fact is I was kind of happy to be talked out of it. “Loiosh, I have to do something. This sitting around waiting to be shined, right here in the middle of Adrilankha, is-”

“Not much different than it’s been for the last several months?”

I exhaled slowly. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just now there’s a chance to end it, to get out of this mess.”

“I know.”

I sighed. “It’s the hard way, isn’t it?”

“Always is, Boss.”

The hard way. Yeah.

The put-it-together-a-piece-at-a-time, taking-my-chances-of-being-shined, and just-fight-it-through way.

All right, then.

“Let me guess, Boss: You need to talk to Daymar again.”

“Soon. I want to make sure I’m clear on what to do next. And I need that hawk’s egg. And the wand.”

“For what?”

“The egg? I don’t have enough power for the spell-the eavesdropping spell. I need a burst of psychic power.”

“And the wand?”

“One way things might go down involves a sleep spell. The wand will prevent several of those from working.”

“‘Several of those,’” he repeated. “And the others?”

“Koelsch leaves.”

“Oh.”

“Also, when we take the next step, things are liable to start popping. We won’t be able to control the pace.”

“Right, Boss. Because, up until now, we’ve had perfect control of everything.”

“Shut up.”

So, okay: I had enough clinking stuff, and the lockpick, and the hawk’s egg and the wand should arrive soon. I opened up the book of Imperial trade laws (volume nine, it said) I’d gotten from Perisil, and went over the significant passage again. It was not exciting.

I was still doing that when I received word that Daymar had arrived in the office, and would like to see me. I offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Verra and told them to send him in.

Daymar entered, ignoring the various tough guys standing around, and walked up to me. He declined refreshment, and placed a brown egg, mostly round, and about a quarter of the diameter of my palm, on the table in front of me.

“That’s it?” I said.

“No,” said Daymar. “That’s a wood carving of a dragon, actual size.”

“Wow, Boss. Sarcasm from Daymar.”

“I know. My whole view of the world is turned on its head.”

I picked up the egg and studied it. It was warm, reminding me of Loiosh’s egg, so very long ago. It was almost weightless in my hand, and felt fragile; like I might break it if my finger twitched. I set it down again.

“Loiosh, can you feel anything from it?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You can feel a lot of-of whatever it is? Energy? Latent psychic power?”

“Yeah, Boss. A lot.”

“It won’t retain its potency more than a few days,” said Daymar.

“That’ll be enough,” I said. “Um. Any chance you got two? I’d like to practice this spell.”

“How soon?”

“A day?”

He shook his head.

“Okay. It should work. Thanks.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“The wand?”

“I ought to be able to get, uh, to get it by tomorrow. I didn’t forget about it. Is that all?”

I hesitated, wishing I’d remembered to do the spell when I had the amulet off. I could remove the amulet yet again, or I could ask Morrolan to do it.

But Daymar was here, and-

“I’m not sure if this is something you can do,” I said.

He an arched an eyebrow at me.

“I mean,” I said, “that it’s a witch thing. It’s the sort of thing witchcraft is really good at. But I can’t do any because of this amulet.”

“You took it off a few hours ago,” observed Daymar.

“Yeah, I was mad.”

“Oh. Couldn’t you have done this other thing then, since you had it off anyway?”

“No, it would have been an inauspicious time, because of the mystical fields of, well, it’s an Eastern religious thing.”

“I see. Well, what would you like me to do?”

“Exert a subtle influence on someone, without his being aware of it.”

“Ah,” said Daymar. He considered for a moment. “Just invade his mind enough to help him make a decision the way you want?”

“Sort of. To come up with an idea and make him think he thought of it.”

Daymar looked intrigued. “I think I can do that. Who is it you want it done to?”

I reached in my pocket and handed him the handkerchief I’d stolen from the Demon’s desk. He studied it. “What idea do you want him to have?”

“There’s a building right at the point where Kieron’s Watch used to be. It would be the perfect place for him to meet me. Think you can suggest that without alerting him?”

Daymar looked directly at me. “Vlad, I think I can do it, but I’m not sure. I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me try. This is, well, this is exciting.”

I did kind of owe him.

“Of course,” I said.

About two minutes later, Daymar went out the way he’d come in: walking, just like a normal person. I wondered if that annoyed him. I hoped it did, at least a little. Yeah, I’m a bad man.

“All right,” I told Loiosh. “Let’s assume it worked. Time to visit the jeweler.”

I declined the offer of an escort, and took the tunnel. I made sure my rapier was loose, and checked a couple of the unsurprising surprises I keep around me, then waited just a bit longer to let my eyes adjust. Loiosh and Rocza flew out, reported that everything looked all right, and I stepped out once more onto the busy, dirty, terrifying streets of Adrilankha. I cut across a street, down an alley, then left, then right a good distance, and stepped into a storefront shop in the middle of a row of cheap yellow brick rooming houses.

Athek is and always has been a dealer in high-end stolen merchandise, especially jewelry. I know it, the Empire knows it, and I’m sure the dirty kids playing bones-and-muffins on the street outside know it. And he knows me; Kiera introduced us years ago. He wasn’t her favorite fence, but he was close to my office. Which was not, in fact, why I was there today.

“Lord Taltos,” he said, looking nervous enough to confirm that he knew I was marked for a shine. He was a Jhegaala, with a full head of white hair and a permanent squint.

“Close up,” I told him.

He nodded nervously, and walked around the counter to the door, locked it, and went back to the counter, sort of edging past me as if I were a poisonous reptile. Of course, I did have a couple of poisonous reptiles on my shoulders, which might have had something to do with it.

“My lord?” he said.

“I need a plain unadorned, platinum ring.”

“Yes, my lord. I have-”

“No, I need a particular one,” I told him, and watched his expression carefully.

* * *

On the third floor of the Imperial Wing of the Palace is a dusty room in which, by tradition, ancient Imperial relics are stored. Three doors lead out of it. One is the hall; one is a closet where janitor’s tools are stored; the other is to the tiny room where, once a year, the Master of Upper Repositories spreads out the paperwork that corresponds to the relics, and makes sure that it does, in fact, correspond to the relics on hand.

The rest of the time, that room is used by a small group of Imperial operatives. The leader-whose identity is kept strictly secret-reports directly to Her Majesty. The group carries no identification, except that each wears a simple, unadorned platinum ring on the middle finger of his left hand.

The rings have no special magic on them except for a unique, imprinted identification mark. The spell was designed and each ring treated personally by Kosadr. According to the best arcane knowledge, there is no way to duplicate this spell. When I first learned about them-that’s its own story-I asked Sethra, and even she agreed. I don’t know about you, but I find that convincing.

On the first Homeday of the month of the Vallista in the two hundred and fifty-first year of the reign of Zerika the Fourth, Lord Bristoe-Camfor, House of the Dzur, of the Third Floor Relic group, was found dead behind a pawnshop a mile and a half from the Imperial Palace. A dagger had been driven up under his chin into his brain. Other than the wound, he had not been disturbed, except that his ring was missing.

Third Floor Relic carried on its own investigation, as did the Special Tasks group (commanded by a guy nicknamed “Papa Cat,” an old acquaintance who didn’t like me much). As usual with such matters, each group was more worried about the other group finding it than they were about not finding it themselves. It took several weeks, but the trail being followed by Third Floor Relic eventually led to the Jhereg owner of the pawnshop. Fittra of Third Floor Relic knew that it was unheard-of for a Jhereg to knowingly kill an Imperial operative. Furthermore, no Jhereg would ever let a body be found near his own place of business if he had anything to do with it. All of which, taken together, meant that something else was going on. Meanwhile, at this same time, Special Tasks bowed out of the investigation.

Maybe the Jhereg hadn’t known he was an Imperial operative. Maybe someone else had arranged the whole thing, using the Jhereg as a tool. Maybe.

But when one of their own is killed, the Empire is not fussy about who gets hurt during the investigation. In this case, a lot of people were hurt, starting with the owner of the pawnshop.

Eventually Third Floor Relic got its answer: Bristoe-Camfor’s future brother-in-law killed him in a dispute over table settings for his sister’s upcoming wedding. The ring, they assumed, had been taken from the body by a passing stranger, and there was nothing to be done except wait and hope that it would turn up somewhere.

Now, here’s what really happened: The business with the Dzurlord’s future brother-in-law was nonsense. The murder and robbery had, in fact, been planned and executed by a Jhereg-one of the very rare instances of the Organization killing any Imperial representative of any kind. There were personal motives involved, and special circumstances that I won’t go into, and, though some years ago I did learn of the whole thing, there were a lot of details I never discovered, such as exactly how they managed to conceal it from the Empire.

I learned about it at all because I know Kiera, and Kiera knows everything. The point is, the ring had vanished, and, while the Jhereg were happy to have it remain missing, it didn’t matter, because no one knew where it was.

Well, not no one.

* * *

He turned a little pale. “I-”

“Careful, Athek. If you lie, I’ll be unhappy.”

He swallowed, and shut up. He looked like he had no intention of speaking. Ever again.

“Obviously,” I said, “you know which ring I’m talking about.”

He nodded.

“And obviously,” I went on, “since everyone knows it’s on the waves, you have some idea which wave it’s on.”

He hesitated, then nodded again.

“And for one last obvious statement, you have a reason for not wanting me to have it. Perhaps, if you tell me what that reason is, we can work something out.”

I gave him my warmest, friendliest smile.

“My lord,” he said, which was respectful but not responsive.

“Go on,” I suggested.

He seemed incapable.

I said, “Did someone tell you not to give it to me?”

He shook his head.

“Did someone tell you to keep it hidden?”

He shook his head again.

“Go ahead, Boss. Ask him if it’s physical, magical, or spiritual.”

“Shut up, Loiosh.”

“Is it being held by someone you’re afraid of?”

He nodded.

“Yes for a copper.”

“Shut up, Loiosh.”

“Is it a Jhereg?”

He nodded again.

“Yes for two-”

“Loiosh!”

My next question was, “Does this Jhereg scare you more than I do?”

He had to consider that. It took him some time. I started to feel a bit jealous.

“No,” he said at last.

“So, who has it?”

He clamped his mouth shut, as if daring me to pry it open. I considered doing just that.

I had to decide carefully what to do next. Putting too much pressure on Athek would piss people off; but, to the left, how much more could they do to me than they wanted to already? I thought it over, while he stood there, waiting to see what I’d do.

I knew very well that mere possession of the thing was a capital crime. So did he, and, maybe, so did the person who had it. I know you’re asking yourself why, if the thing was so dangerous, and if Athek knew who had it, did whoever it was let Athek live? I asked myself the same question. I mean, it’s true: You don’t go around casually shining people like him-they always have protection or they wouldn’t be in business. But still, this was a dangerous secret.

Unless the guy who had it didn’t know Athek knew he had it.

Yeah, that would account for everything. Well, for him not wanting to tell me and him still being above the Falls, at least. So, someone who might have it, someone scary, someone Athek would know had it, someone who didn’t know Athek knew he had it.…

“So,” I said. “The Left Hand of the Jhereg puts in an appearance, does it?”

He didn’t answer; but the look on his face was answer enough.

Yeah, had to be the Left Hand: the sorceresses. They wouldn’t know how Athek operated, about his contacts among all things jewelry-related. They’d see him as merely a corrupt merchant. And he, of course, would be terrified of his own knowledge-afraid someone would let it be known that he had information that could get him killed.

And here I was, right on schedule.

“Who in the Left Hand?” I said. “Now that I know, you might as well-”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“How did you find it?”

“The Imperials questioned me, made me look for it.”

“Sorcery?”

He nodded. “I have a thing for jewelry. I can find it when no one else in town can. I could find a-”

“Yeah, I know. So you found it?”

“I found it. Got a face and a location. I didn’t get a name, but I recognized her as Left Hand.”

“Then why didn’t you tell the Imperials?”

“It didn’t seem safe.” He sniffed. “And besides, I didn’t like how they asked me.”

I nodded. You don’t survive as a cleaner for the Jhereg if you’re weak.

“I can’t protect you from the Left Hand,” I said.

“I know.”

“But they can’t protect you from me, either.”

He considered that for what seemed a very long time. I let him think. At last he said, “All right. Make me an offer.”

“Twenty.”

“Thirty.”

“Done.”

I passed him over enough money to keep a family eating well for several months, and he said, “Unless they’ve moved it, it’s in the back room of an inn at the very end of Western, in the false back of a three-shelf bookcase.”

Well, that ought to be precise enough. “Any traps or wardings on the false back?”

“None that I saw, but I wouldn’t recognize any.”

“Yeah, all right.”

Loiosh and Rocza checked the street, and I went back out there and down the street to the tunnel into Kragar’s office, where I found Deragar hanging around.

“Need something?” he said.

“There’s an inn at the tail end of Western.”

He nodded. “Black Rose,” he said. “It’s a Left Hand place.”

“Yes,” I said. “Can you check it out for me?”

“What do you want checked?”

“How hard would it be to get me a minute alone in the back office?”

He nodded. “There’s going to be sorcery.”

I fished out my purse and handed him fifteen gold imperials. “That’ll do it,” he said. “Should I have some food sent in before I go?”

“That’d be great.”

“See you soon, then.”

Half an hour later there was ginger-roasted kethna, wine, and Forbidden Forest soup, and I was feeling fairly good about life.

“So, you trust this guy, Boss?”

“You think I’ve been poisoned? I feel fine.”

“Oh, now is a good time to ask.”

“Kragar trusts him.”

A couple of hours later Deragar was back. “You get it?” I asked him.

“When it’s open or closed?” were the first words out of his mouth.

“Whichever is easier.”

“Open, then. That gets rid of everything at the entrances and windows, and eliminates the passive sorcery detection.”

I nodded. “I’m listening.”

He unrolled a piece of paper, and held it spread open on the table in front of me. It had a detailed drawing of what I assumed was the inside of the Black Rose. “The two Xs are sorceresses, keeping a watch on the office door at all times. There’s no window into the office, so the front and back doors are your only way in. The back door is locked and sealed-sorcerous seal and alarms-except for deliveries and special requests.”

“Two sorceresses,” I said. “Are you sure you didn’t miss one?”

He looked at me.

“Good answer,” I said. “All right, go on.”

“The door into the office has what’s called a Ferni Seal. A Ferni Seal-”

“I’m familiar with it,” I said. It was serious security.

He nodded. “Also, the knob on the door has a ten-candle alarm tied to a bell in the bar, and something inside the office; obviously, my sorcerer couldn’t tell what.”

“Right. Understood.”

“That’s it,” he said.

“That’s plenty,” I said. “Good work.”

He nodded. “Any kethna left?”

“Help yourself.”

He did, while I tried to figure out a way in. The sorcery was no problem-I had a Great Weapon called Lady Teldra, which meant I still had, albeit in a different form, what had once been a gold chain I’d called Spellbreaker. The trouble was the sorceresses. They weren’t going to just stand there while I walked into the office to look around; not to mention whoever worked in that office.

“You’re sure open is easier?” I said after a while.

He swallowed a mouthful of kethna and wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “Two more in the office, one more in the bar, plus more sorcery.”

Plus the fact that even walking in would be a signal to start the mayhem. I could maybe take them all out, but right now was not when I wanted the Left Hand after me as well as the Right. “Yeah, okay,” I said.

He went back to eating.

“I can’t wait to hear your plan for this one, Boss.”

“Shut up.”

I considered. “Okay, we walk in and ask to see the lady in charge. They-”

“Identify you and kill you for the reward. With you so far, Boss. Then what?”

“I was more thinking they let me in to see her.”

“I wouldn’t have thought of that, Boss. Bet they won’t think of it either.”

“I could use a disguise.”

“First thing they’ll do when you ask is check you for sorcery and find your Phoenix Stone.”

“I could take it off.”

“Oh, then the Jhereg would kill you instead. Good plan.”

“All right, smart guy. What’s your idea?”

“Mock you mercilessly until you think of something better.”

“Does that usually work?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

What I wanted to do was charge in, kill everyone in sight, then search the place. Even without the benefit of Loiosh’s penetrating insight, I understood that wasn’t practical.

Of course, there was the fallback position: ask Kiera for help. Again. I hated the idea of running to her every time I needed to steal something, but I was willing to do it if there was no other way.

“Yeah, Boss. Now is exactly the time to be too proud to-”

“Shut up.”

Maybe some capers are out of the reach of a lone Easterner. Maybe. Can’t say as I liked the idea much.

“You don’t have to like it, Boss. It’s the only thing that makes any sort of-”

“Loiosh, if you can’t be useful-”

I broke off and started chuckling.

“Boss? Boss, what’s funny? I don’t like the sound of that.”

Three hours later, he was telling me it wasn’t funny.

I said, “Go,” and opened the door. He and Rocza flew into the Black Rose. I counted to ten, then followed them in, hugging the wall. There was the sizzling and popping of spells, and people moving everywhere. Lots of people; twenty at least. The sorceresses were having trouble hitting the jhereg without hitting the customers. The door to the office opened as I was approaching it. I pressed myself against the wall. A woman came out; when she was past I slipped in behind her, and there I was.

There was a three-shelf bookcase, just as promised. There were, supposedly, sorcerous alarms on it. There was an easy way to disable them: draw Lady Teldra, strike at it, and let her handle the rest (handle, you see, is kind of a joke, because Lady’s Teldra’s hilt, you know, handle, was really Spellbreaker, which-this is dumb, right?). The trouble was, once I drew that blade everyone in the other room would know instantly, and they’d lose interest in chasing jhereg.

So instead I leaned in and gave that bookcase a big hug. In case you’ve forgotten, I was wearing a Phoenix Stone amulet.

Then I pulled books off the bottom shelf, carefully, keeping them in neat stacks. I spotted the compartment built into the back of the shelf, studied it, flipped the catch, and looked inside. Hoping I’d disabled everything nasty, I reached in and took the ring. My hand came out with as many fingers as it had gone in with, and I had the ring. I closed the compartment and replaced the books.

Then I slipped out of the room, hugging the wall again.

“Okay, Loiosh. Out.”

“We’re no longer speaking, Boss.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You know you enjoyed it.”

I made it out onto the street. I walked for a quarter of a mile or so, then Loiosh and Rocza landed on my shoulders. Loiosh bit my ear, but not very hard. I patted my pouch.

“Well, you got it,” said Loiosh.

“Yeah.”

“Is that about everything?”

“No,” I said.

He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to.

He and Rocza left my shoulders and started circling above me. I made it back to Kragar’s office, inspected the ring, and wondered if I’d been played. It really did look like a plain, unadorned platinum ring. No marks, nothing.

I shrugged. I’d find out eventually.

I put the ring back in my pouch; with any luck, the same amulet that kept anyone from finding me would keep anyone from finding it. With no luck, I was dead anyway.

I found a chair, sat down, and stretched out.

“You see, Loiosh, here’s the thing you don’t get. All-”

“This is going to be good.”

“Shut up. All of those Jhereg bosses-all of them, every one as long as the Jhereg has existed-what they loved was building their organization. Becoming more powerful. Becoming more secure. Becoming more wealthy.”

“I’m missing something, Boss.”

“Becoming, not being.”

“Oh.”

“The trick is, I’m not sure if the Demon sees that; it might matter a lot.”

“Is that what you meant about making the Jhereg see things like a Hawk?”

“I keep forgetting you pay attention,” I said. “Yeah, I need the Demon to focus on the details, and miss the big picture.”

I picked up volume nine of the Imperial trade laws and tried to read them, but I couldn’t concentrate.

“What is it, Boss?”

“Kragar.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It was a close thing. I could see from Aliera’s face how close it was.”

“You should eat something, Boss.”

“Just did.”

“That was hours ago, before the excitement.”

“Not hungry, Loiosh.”

“All right.”

I hadn’t admitted to myself how scared I was when I saw Kragar lying in a pool of blood; or when I saw the way Aliera looked at him. There’s no point in dwelling on that stuff. I picked up the heavy legal book, again tried to concentrate, again put it down.

Too much on my mind, I decided. Too much at once. It wasn’t just how seeing Kragar like that had affected me; it was also the fact that I was involved in two major projects at once: killing Terion, and getting the Jhereg off my back. When I’d taken on projects in the past, I mean big projects, like an assassination, I’d only done one at a time. Now I was finding out why.

“We should get something to eat, Loiosh.”

“Good idea, Boss.”

An hour later, Deragar was back with bread, cheese, wine, and river-fried herring, which I gobbled down furiously. He joined us, and looked pleased when I complimented him on the cheese selection. He talked about it for a while, but I don’t remember what he said.

As I ate, I studied him. He had broad shoulders, a square head with barely a noble’s point, and astonishingly thick wrists. He looked like someone who could break any bone you cared to name with his bare hands. In a strange way, he reminded me of a guy named Sticks I used to know. Not physically, but in the sense of always having a sort of half-asleep look that I knew was deceptive. He also reminded me of someone else, but I couldn’t quite figure out who.

“Deragar,” I said. “Did you ever work for me, a few years ago? I don’t remember you.”

“Not directly,” he said. “I was collecting for Gasto until, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. So, how did you end up with this job? I mean, helping me.”

He looked at me.

“Oh,” I said. “Right.”

“The job is keeping an eye on you.”

“Of course.”

“For your protection, I mean.”

“Yeah. What happened to Gasto?”

“Throat cut first, then-”

“No, I don’t mean that. I mean, why? Who’d he piss off?”

“I don’t know. Maybe just a power struggle. Might’ve been personal. Never heard.”

“All right.”

Around then one of Kragar’s people came in and handed me a sealed piece of paper. I looked at him and waited. “Just delivered,” he said.

“From?”

“A messenger.”

“Uh. All right.”

On the outside was written “V. Taltos” in expensive blue ink. I broke the seal, unfolded it, and read: “Come. I can help.” The signature was a stylized dzur. I’d seen it before.

“Trap, Boss?”

“Nope.”

“How can you be-”

“Loiosh. No one, I mean, no one is going to be so stupid as to fake this.”

“Uh. Yeah.”

If I knew anything, I knew the note was real.

Leaving me only the problem of figuring out how I was going to make my way to Dzur Mountain, the home of Sethra Lavode.