Hawk

14

After trudging along Lower Kieron for longer than I want to remember, I was in an area where it was both safe and possible to leave the wheelbarrow, so I did and continued on to Kieron.

It was much easier after that, which is just as well because I had to go a long way, which would have been impossibly long if I’d had to push that thing up and down hills. The area went from poor, to affluent, to peasant (which is like poor but with less trash and more space), and then there were a couple of castles off in the distance and one very large single-story building directly in front of us.

I should explain about that building.

I’d found it a short while back, led there by someone I trusted. The details aren’t important. But I’d been inside of it, and had the chance to get to know it pretty well. It was first built by a Vallista named Tethia as, so she told me, “an experiment,” which is what people say when they do something that makes everyone laugh at them. There’s a story there, too.

It was big, it was empty, and there was a room in it that held a long table and a lot of comfortable chairs. The building was rented out every now and then by groups of merchants or nobles who wanted to solve matters in a less violent way than is usual for the people I know. If you ignore the rest of the structure (and you should if you don’t want your head exploding), that room is pretty comfortable. On the south wall are several large windows of glass that were treated to prevent breakage. The glass looks out over the ocean-sea, just where Kieron’s Watch used to be. It is, in fact, a spectacular view.

It was night when I arrived, and there were no lights to be seen anywhere; the place was empty. It was usually empty. If it hadn’t been deserted this time around, I’m not sure what I’d have done-left town? killed everyone in it? sat down and cried? That had been one of the few things I had to trust to luck on; and so far, luck was with me.

Time to get to work.

There were enough wards and spells and devices on the doors and windows of the place that breaking in would have been a major enterprise. I could have done it, especially with Kiera’s help, but there was no need.

“Anything, Loiosh?”

“No one anywhere near, Boss. You’re good.”

“All right.”

“What if your memory is off? I mean, what if you don’t recall the inside as well as you think you do?”

“I’m going to look first, Loiosh. As in, look inside. Through the windows. Glass windows. They work both ways, you know. Glass. It’s this thing invented by people with oppos-”

“Shut up, Boss.”

We went around to the side of the building, my back to the ocean-sea far below me; I could smell it, and hear the waves crashing on Kieron’s Rocks. I looked through the window, did a quick calculation, then did it again to be sure, and made a note of the spot.

“You know this is crazy, right, Boss?”

“Not if it works.”

Glass windows are a sign of wealth. Not so much because they’re expensive-a good sorcerer with access to sand can, I’m told, create any size and shape window with a bit of time and effort-but because they break. That’s what glass does. And then you have to replace them. And after a few times, the cost starts building up, so you have to not care.

Or you spend even more on enchanting the windows so they don’t break.

I gave the window an experimental smack with my fist. It hardly even vibrated.

“All right, so-”

“Watch and learn,” I said.

I ran my fingers over the place where the window was joined to the wall-a wood frame had been set into the stone, and ingenious slots cut into it to hold the window in place.

Those of us in the business call that a “weak spot.”

The process was a lot longer and slower than I had expected. For one thing, there was this strange glue-like substance between glass and wood that I had to scrape away. Every time my knife tapped the window it made a ringing sound that was not unpleasant but made me worry about breaking it until I remembered that it was unbreakable. Which was the reason for doing this, after all.

But in the end, it was done-the window would come out with a good push, and from there I’d be just a few feet from the cliff, and there were stairs cut into the cliff.

“Sleep now,” I said.

“Yeah, after a long walk back into the City.”

“Who’s whining now?”

It was, indeed, a long and wearying walk, but we made it back, using the tunnel again. I said not a word to anyone; I just trudged into the storage room I was using, threw myself onto my pile of blankets, and went to sleep.

I had an intense dream that night-or rather, morning-but I don’t remember much about it except that there were wheelbarrows, and I don’t see how it relates to anything, so skip it.

I woke up with one of those surges of adrenaline you get on the day something big is going to happen-you know, you gradually wake up to a certain point, and then, This is the day. Here we go. I heaved myself up to a sitting position without even a grunt, and found Loiosh looking at me. He said nothing into my mind. I felt his fear and anticipation-a reflection of mine, and yet still his own-echoing back and forth.

I pulled myself up. I cleaned up in Kragar’s private washroom (that used to be mine) and got dressed. No, my hands weren’t shaking, and yes, my palms were dry. I went through every weapon I had, carefully, checking the edge, and that it was just where it should be, and that I could pull it cleanly. From time to time, I tapped Lady Teldra’s hilt, which was going to become an annoying habit if I let it; but it was very reassuring.

“Food, Boss?”

“Oh, yes. And klava. I’m going to have a full stomach and be wide awake when, you know.”

“Good plan.”

I went out into the office, hoping Deragar was there so I could get him to bring food and klava. He was there, and so was Sellish, but they weren’t alone.

“Kragar!”

“You see, you noticed me right away.”

He looked pale and fragile, but he was sitting upright in Melestav’s old chair.

“How are you?”

“Not ready to fall over dead quite yet. How about you?”

“Probably closer than you are.”

“Probably.”

“You didn’t have to agree so fast.”

“How’s your problem?”

“Nearing a solution.”

“I heard that Terion had an accident.”

“Yeah, I heard the same thing.”

He nodded.

“Deragar’s been great,” I added.

“Aw, shucks,” said Deragar.

“Yeah, I raised him right,” said Kragar.

“You-”

I looked back and forth between them.

“Oh,” I said.

Kragar smirked.

“How about you get him to bring us breakfast and klava while I recover and try to adopt this into my view of the universe.”

Kragar and Sellish nodded solemnly. “We were just waiting for you. Though it’ll be lunch for us.”

Deragar rolled his eyes, reminding me more than ever of Kragar. “What, then?”

“Just some rolls, and a lot of klava, for Vlad. For me, you know what I like. Get something good,” said Kragar.

“Hot sweet rolls?” he asked me.

I nodded.

“All right. I’m including myself in the list, though, and you’re buying.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” said Kragar.

Some coins changed hands, and Deragar left. Kragar started to stand up, failed, looked disgusted and gave me a glance. I helped him up. He hissed with pain, and I guided him to his own office. As he sat down, I said, “You sure you’re out of danger?”

“How do you mean that?”

“I mean, are you about to fall over dead from the wound? I didn’t intend to ask if the world was a safe place for Jhereg bosses, so don’t even start.”

He chuckled and said, “I saw the physicker this morning, and he says I’m doing all right. And he seems to think Aliera is some sort of god.”

“So does Aliera.”

“Yeah. But she does good work. Don’t tell her I said so.”

“Of course not; she’d pound me into dust.”

“She would at that. I wish I’d been able to hear the conversation when you convinced her to save me.”

That was a good time not to say anything, so I gave him my best inscrutable smile and let it drop. Instead, I asked him a few more times about how he was feeling until he started to get annoyed, then I let that drop, too. He wanted to talk about my plans, and if he could help, and I didn’t want to and he couldn’t-at least, any more than he had by loaning me Deragar. He looked like he wanted to argue about it, and I understood how he was feeling, but he just shut his mouth and nodded.

Deragar came back, with klava that made life possible, and some sweet buns that made it worth living. No, sarcasm aside, life is always worth living. Even when sometimes it seems like more trouble than it’s worth.

Oh, who am I kidding? It’s when it seems like more trouble than it’s worth that I want it the most. I mean, isn’t everyone like that? No, I suppose not. Some people just seem miserable all the time, even when they have no reason to be, and my attitude is to just let them stew in it, as long they stay clear of me. That is, unless it’s someone I know, then it’s different.

When have you ever heard me claim to be consistent? Or, for that matter, claim there was any virtue in consistency? I’m just telling you what happened, and what I was thinking, because that’s what I’m being paid for. Don’t read too much into it, all right? There’s one good thing about needing to devote all of your energy to staying alive: It doesn’t give you a lot of time to waste on crap that isn’t worth thinking about.

Fresh rolls and klava, now-there was something worth thinking about. Sellish took his away because he had stuff to do. The three of us enjoyed the rolls and klava in silence.

When we’d finished, I asked one question: “What is the time?”

“It’s an hour before noon,” said Kragar, giving me a significant look. “What time do things get started?”

“I should find out within the next two hours.”

“You didn’t make firm arrangements?”

“I left the exact time and place open, so the client would feel more at ease.”

He rubbed chin with the side of his fist. “So you can’t make any real preparations.”

“Yeah, I’ve already prepped the place.”

His eyebrows asked me a question.

I said, “I just sort of somehow know where he’s going to pick.”

“You’re sure?”

I shrugged. “Nothing is sure in this, but that isn’t one of the parts I’m most worried about.”

“I’d ask,” he said, “but you wouldn’t tell me.”

“Correct.”

“And I loathe giving you another chance to display your wit.”

“Have you been reading books?”

“What?”

I shook my head and wiped my fingers on my shirt. We had more klava, and I don’t remember what we talked about, but I’m sure it was terribly important. Just about exactly noon, a messenger arrived with a note for me from the Demon.

I read it, nodded, folded it up, and tapped it against my hand.

“Well?” said Kragar. “Is that it?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“Good and bad.”

“Hmmm?”

“It’s where I wanted, but not for another six hours. What am I supposed to do for the next six hours?”

“Yeah,” he said smirking. “You’ve already eaten.”

I suggested he perform a rather disgusting quasi-sexual act; he allowed as to how that would pass the time, at least. Deragar tried not to laugh.

Loiosh sat on my shoulder, shifting from foot to foot; he was nervous too. Kragar pulled out a set of s’yang stones. I shook my head; he shrugged and put it back.

“Well,” he said, “any pieces of it you want to talk about? Holes you want to fill in? Really stupid parts I can laugh at?”

“Loiosh is handling that,” I told him. “The laughing at me, I mean.”

“So, business as usual.”

“Pretty much.”

“What are you going to do if it doesn’t work? I mean, are you going to just die? Do you have a backup plan?”

Once more, I thought about just taking Lady Teldra and killing as many of them as I could before they got me. But … “No,” I said.

He waited.

“Kragar, what are you really asking?”

“If there’s some reason to believe I didn’t go through all this for nothing.”

He looked unusually serious.

“I can’t promise that. But you’ll know within a few hours, one way or the other.”

“Yeah, but Vlad, has it occurred to you that, if they kill you, I’m probably next?”

“Uh, no. Why do you think that? If they’ve left you alive all this time-I mean, I know Terion tried not to, but-”

“It’s not Terion, Vlad. Think about it. I was your number two. I’ve been helping you. Why am I still alive?”

“Because you’re very hard to kill.”

“They could manage.”

I bit my thumb and thought about it. “You think they’re deliberately keeping you alive because they think you’ll lead them to me?”

“That’s my guess.”

“Why are you only telling me now?”

“I hadn’t thought about it until I was lying on my back unable to move. Amazing what it does for the brain.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”

His eyebrows looked a question, but I didn’t answer.

“The Demon,” I said, “agreed that it would be over if this all works out.”

“Yeah,” said Kragar. “So you said. For you. Not for me.”

I made a theologically improbable suggestion. Then I said, “I never thought about that.”

“Me neither,” he said. “Until today.”

I noticed I was biting my lower lip and stopped.

“Don’t get me wrong, Vlad. I don’t mind risking my ass for you. I’ve been doing it for almost fifteen years now. But I like to have some idea of what it’s about.”

I looked for something to say, came up empty. “Okay,” I said. “I’ve been collecting-”

“Wait a minute, Vlad.”

“What?”

“I didn’t mean you actually had to unreel the whole thing for me.”

“Oh. Well, you made a pretty good argument for it.”

“I just want to know how you’re so sure the Demon isn’t going to sell you out.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that. I mean, that’s sort of the key to the whole thing, isn’t it?”

“What I know about the Demon is that he’s going to want the process, because there’s just an absurd amount of money in it. I don’t believe he’s capable of passing that up.”

He shook his head. “I just worry that you’re too trusting.”

“That I’m-what?”

“Too trusting.”

“Kragar, who have I shown misplaced trust in as long as you’ve known me?”

“Melestav,” he said.

I winced. That one still hurt. “You know, Kragar, of all the things I’ve been accused of over the years, I never expected to hear that I was too trusting.”

“Don’t see why not,” he said. “You are. And everyone in the world can see it except you.” Deragar watched us go back and forth like someone watching kittens play-with a sort of tolerant amusement that I’d have done something about if I hadn’t been busy.

“Too trusting,” I said. “Yeah, that’s my problem.” I rolled my eyes. “I admit, I trust people to be true to their nature. So far, that’s worked out pretty well for me.”

“Okay, Vlad. Let’s look at the facts.”

“Facts? You must be really desperate if you’re resorting to facts. All right, I’m listening.”

“First of all, you trusted me.”

“It seems like-”

“You trusted me a long time before you knew me enough to.”

“What did I trust you with? I mean, early on?”

“Almost everything you were doing.”

“Such as?”

“The name of your contact with Morrolan’s security forces. That you’d killed Loraan. That you’d personally killed Laris-the Empire would have loved to hear about that. That-”

“Did you really consider telling them?”

“Of course not, Vlad. That isn’t the point. The point is, you’re too trusting.”

“I was young, then.”

“And now you’re not? You’re still under five hundred. If you weren’t human that would mean you’re young.”

“Heh,” I explained. “What else you got?”

He continued giving examples of my supposed over-trusting nature, some of which may have been valid, and I continued arguing until I finally got tired of it and said, “So, Kragar, because of this, you’re convinced the Demon-or someone else in the Organization-is going to put a shine on you as soon as this is over?”

“I didn’t say I was convinced, Vlad.”

“But you think so?”

“Most likely not.”

“Wait. You don’t think so?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been too good an earner. If I go down, everyone up the ladder from me loses.”

“Well then, why have you been-wait. You’ve just been doing all of this to take my mind off the six-hour wait, haven’t you, you asshole?”

“It’s not six hours anymore.” He smirked.

“C’mon, Boss. It was well played. Admit it.”

“You knew what he was doing the whole time, didn’t you?”

“Nothing good can come out of me answering that question, Boss.”

“Suddenly,” I said, “I feel like killing someone.”

“You’ll probably have the chance,” said Kragar.

“Probably.”

“Hungry again?”

“No. How much time did you manage to kill?”

“A couple of hours.”

“It’ll take me an hour to get there.”

“Going to arrive early?”

I shook my head. “Just exactly when I’m expected.”

“How trusting of you.”

“Kragar, you weren’t serious, were you? I mean about-quit laughing. Jerk.”

Still smirking, he made a gesture to Deragar with his eyebrows, and the latter went out, then returned with a bottle of Piarran Mist.

“What?” I said. “Some sort of last-drink ritual, so if I die, I’ll have had the good stuff? Seriously, Kragar?”

“Shut up and drink it, Vlad.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” I told him.

We drank, and didn’t talk about old times, or new times, or anything at all. However much I may laugh at stupid rituals like that, it was very, very good; it went over my tongue like clear water, but left a whole symphony of flavors and hints of aroma that gave me something to think about instead of whether I was about to die, and, more important, how much I hated waiting.

Kragar seemed to appreciate it as much as I did; Deragar might have, too, but if so he hid it well.

I stopped after two cups, because having my mind foggy wouldn’t be a good idea. Then I stood up. “Okay,” I said. “I’m heading out.”

“It’s still pretty early,” he said. “I mean, if you really are planning to get there exactly on time.”

“I have a stop to make on the way.”

“All right,” said Kragar. “Good luck.”

I took most of the coin I had left and set it aside with a note telling Deragar it was his. It was a lot, but he’d earned it. And soon, I’d be able to get at my own bank account. Or not.

I slung the euphonium case over my shoulder.

I made sure the lockpick was where it should be, and that I had the flask, the orange, the ring, the hollow knife, the glass ball, the wand, and the egg. I was wearing the cloak. I went through every weapon I was carrying, again, one at a time, to see they were accessible and that I remembered where they were.

I took the secret passage for what would almost certainly be the last time, and I didn’t let myself think a good-bye to my old lab as I passed it by.

If I lived through this, I decided, first order of business was going to be some new clothes-something that fit better, and looked better. Yeah, that’s what I’d do.

No, a good meal first. Maybe Valabar’s. Certainly Valabar’s.

Focus, Vlad. Task at hand and all that. Worry about later, later.

It was afternoon, just making its way toward evening, but the light was still good. There were lots of Teckla in the market, wearing bright blue, and yellow, and red, and sometimes disregarding their House colors entirely. I wondered why it was only the Teckla who felt so free to ignore their House colors, and why I’d never noticed before. Do most Dragaerans wear their House colors because of tradition? A social obligation? Just feels right? I don’t know; I always wore the gray and black because everyone else in the Organization did; I’d never questioned it. If I’d thought of it, I’d have asked Kragar-it was just the sort of thing he and I could talk about for hours over wine and biscuits. Well, too late now.

Stop it, Vlad.

Vlad. I was Fenarian, but had been given a name-Vladimir-imported from a neighboring kingdom. Cawti had always called me Vladimir. There was something caressing about the way she’d said it.

Cawti.

Sara.

I let out a breath between clenched teeth and continued. As I passed a market, I thought I saw Devera, Aliera’s daughter, looking at me. I almost stopped, but when I looked again she was gone, so I decided I was either imagining it, or she didn’t want to talk to me. She is a very unusual child, but I guess now isn’t the best time for that conversation. I put it out of my head and kept walking until I reached the Imperial Palace.

I’d allowed a lot of slack time in my schedule, but if no one on the list of people I could call on was here, I might be in trouble. It would not do to be late to my own meeting.

There were a pair of guards blocking my way into the Dragon Wing. The expressions on their faces were not encouraging.

I showed them my signet ring, and they weren’t entirely sure how to handle it. While they were deciding, I said, “Count Szurke requesting an audience of Lord Khaavren. If he isn’t available,” I added, “any of his subordinates will do.”

They let me pass.

The Dragon Wing of the Imperial Palace is nearly as confusing as Dzur Mountain, but there are more people to ask questions of, and some of them are willing to answer. I made it to the captain’s office, and was informed that Khaavren would be willing to see me at once, no doubt on account of me holding an Imperial title and all. It was good for that. Also good for having the Empress send someone looking for me when I was almost dead, and saving Orca kids from arrest. I wondered how far I could stretch it.

There’s a lot I could tell you about Lord Khaavren, called Papa Cat behind his back, as I happened to know. But most of it is beside the point. What matters for now is that he wears at least two different cloaks within the Imperial Hierarchy, and both of them involve giving orders to people who have the right to perform violence with Imperial sanction. The office I found him in had to do with his role as Captain of the Imperial Guard, as opposed to the much more interesting one.

He was seated behind a desk, just like I used to be. He stood up and gave me an exactly correct bow. “Count Szurke,” he said.

“My lord Captain,” I said.

“May I offer you something?”

“Please. Hot water, a fine-mesh strainer if you have one, and two glasses.”

An eyebrow went up. “Will I enjoy whatever it is you’re about to share?”

“Sorry. No. It tastes like-it doesn’t taste good at all, but I wasn’t offering to share it.”

“All right,” he said, obviously intrigued.

He gave the orders, and the two glasses appeared. I dumped the ground koelsch leaves into one, poured hot water over it, then strained it into the other and drank it. I guess it didn’t taste all that bad; it was a bit like if it stopped trying so hard to be a bitter tea, it’d be a fairly effective bitter tea, if that makes sense.

“I assume,” he said, “that the beverage isn’t why you’re here.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “Sorry.” This may be the first time in my life I’ve apologized to a Dragaeran twice in a single conversation.

“So, how may I be of service?” he asked.

“That must have been painful to say.”

“I’ve survived worse.”

“I’d like something from you.”

He shifted in his chair and studied me through narrowed eyes. “It seems to me, Lord Tal-that is, Count Szurke-that I have paid that debt.”

“No argument.”

“Then give me another reason to help you.”

“Political infighting.”

“Go on.”

I hesitated. I hadn’t figured out how to put this so I could get what I wanted without pissing him off; and I should have. I spoke carefully. “If there were some department, say a law enforcement unit within the Empire, that wanted to get an edge over a rival department within the Empire, it would seem worth a little effort on the part of the captain, wouldn’t it?”

He didn’t speak, or even move, for what seemed like a long time. Then he said, “What sort of edge, what sort of effort?”

I stood up, took the platinum ring out of my pouch, and set it on his desk. He picked it up and looked at it, then at me. “How did you get this?”

“I didn’t kill anyone for it,” I said, answering the question he hadn’t asked.

“But you know who did?”

“No, just where it ended up. I got it back.”

“All right,” he said. “You have my attention.”

“I want to report a crime,” I told him.