Phoenix

As I turned away, he said, "Baronet Taltos," and put such scorn into my title that I almost dropped him right then and there. I didn't, but I did stop and turn back to; face him. He said, "Consider how your wife will react if I you find some way to yendi her out of prison, while everyone else stays there. Think it over."

I felt a sneer growing on my face, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of letting him see it. I walked out the door and headed back toward my own side of town, where everyone hated me for reasons I was more comfortable with.

All right, so I couldn't count on them. I hadn't really thought I could, but they deserved to be asked. Where did

that leave me? Nowhere, probably. I stopped my walk long enough to make contact with Kragar. "Any news?"

"Those minstrels sure hear things, Vlad. They're better than the street tags. They play the court, and they listen, and they gossip. That was a great idea. "

"Save the praise, Kragar. Have we learned anything?" "We sure have. The big arrest of Easterners was—urn, I'm not certain you 're going to like this. " "Let's have it. "

"Okay. It was by request of and based on information supplied by the Imperial representative of House Jhereg. " I took a deep breath and, for no reason I'm aware of, my hands went through the automatic gestures that check to make sure my various concealed weapons are in their proper places.

"Okay, Kragar. Thanks. Anything else?" "Nothing out of the ordinary." "I'll be in touch."

I was wearing my usual cloak, but it was clean. The grey tunic I'd put on was in good shape, and my trousers, while not really suitable for court, weren't bad. My boots were a bit scuffed and dirty, so I stopped when I was back in Dragaeran country and had a Teckla clean and polish, them, for which I tipped him well. Then, to keep them clean, I carefully teleported to the vicinity of the Imperial Palace.

I leaned against the nearest wall and counted passersby until my stomach felt well again, then made my way around to the path which led to the Jhereg Wing. There were two old men standing outside it pretending to be guards (who in his right mind would break into the Jhereg Wing?), to whom I nodded as I went by. Inside, a cheerful young man in grey and black was sitting behind a short oak table. He asked my business.

"Count Soffta," I said.

"Have you an appointment, my lord?"

"Naturally."

"Very well. That door, up the stairs, all the way to the back."

"Quite."

"A pleasant afternoon, my lord."

"Yes."

Every inch the nobleman, that's what I am. Heh. The cheerful young man's identical twin was sitting behind the table's identical twin. He asked my business. The table remained mute.

"Count Soffta," I said.

"Have you an appointment, my lord?"

"No."

"What name shall I give?"

"Baronet Taltos."

There was a bit of a twinge to his eyebrows, as if maybe he'd heard the name, but that was all. "A moment, if you please" and he was silent for a few heartbeats. Then he said, "You may go in, my lord."

"Thank you."

There's a saying that goes, "Only Issola live in the Palace," and it may be true. That is, if it were possible for a Jhereg to look like an Issola, Soffta did. His build was a bit chest-heavy, his face was regular, with the narrow forehead and peaked crown, and his movements were smooth and slow, and seemed practiced. No, he didn't really look like an Issola, but about as close as a Jhereg can come. His office had four comfortable-looking chairs and a view of the courtyard. Each chair had its own round, three-legged table on which the guest could set his drink, made from the bar at the far end of the room. All very nice and non-threatening, it was.

He motioned me to a seat. "Baronet Taltos," he said. "A pleasure. Drink? I have some Fenarian wine."

Issola. "That would be nice," I said. I saw the bottle and realized he meant brandy. "Clear and clean," I said. The chair was as soft as it looked. Not very good for getting out of in a hurry. I wondered if that was deliberate, if I had designed the room, it would have been.

He poured me a drink, and the same thing for himself. I wondered if he really cared for it, at least served the right way, or if he was being polite. I'd probably never know. It was Tuzviz, probably the most commonly available Fenarian brandy; good if not remarkable. At least I could tell there were peaches in its ancestry.

When we were both sitting and enjoying the fire on our tongues he said, "How may I serve you, Baronet?"

"The Empire has mistakenly arrested my wife while clearing out some Eastern rabble from South Adrilankha. I'd like to see about obtaining her release."

He nodded sympathetically. "I see. Most unfortunate. Her name?"

"The Lady Cawti. Taltos of course. She's the Countess of, let me see ... Lostguard Cleft, I think."

"Yes. Bide a moment, enjoy the wine. I'll see what I can do."

"Very well."

He left the room. I got up and stared out the window. Off to the side I could just make out the vast hall of the lorich Wing, beneath which were the dungeons. It was completely walled in, dark and solemn, with their banner flying above it and Dragonlords in the gold cloaks of the Phoenix Guards walking along the walls. No, on reflection, it would have been damn hard to break her out.

Directly below me was a rock garden in blue and white, and strips of neatly manicured lawn dotted with stunted trees. Directly in front of me, on a tall, lone flagpole, flew the banner of the House, stylized Jhereg, sinister, wings spread, claws outstretched, black on a field of grey. It filled me with no emotion whatsoever.

Presently Soffta returned and sat down behind his desk again. He was looking very grave indeed. "It seems," he said, "that someone has already intervened on behalf of the Lady Cawti, and she refused release. Do you know anything about this?"

"Mmmm," I said. "What would it take to procure her release in spite of her refusal?"

"Why, I'm not sure, Lord Taltos. Such a refusal is almost unheard-of, and forcing a release, well, I imagine an order of the Empress would do it."

"No doubt, no doubt," I said. I stood up and strolled back over to the window, looked out of it. I paced a bit, and my pacing took me behind Soffta's chair. He let me get behind him, but I saw the tension in his neck muscles. Court representative or not, he was a Jhereg, not an Issola. "A difficult situation," I said. "Perhaps there is nothing to be done."

"Perhaps not," he said, still not looking at me. "Although I'm certainly willing to help as much as I can."

"Good, good," I said. "Perhaps, then, you could tell me something." As I spoke, I placed my hand casually on his shoulder. There was tension there now, but he kept his hands relaxed, in plain sight on his desk. We were ten feet from the door. "Just out of curiosity, how long has it been since blood has been spilled here, in the Jhereg Wing?"

"Not since the Interregnum, Lord Taltos."

"It would be bad for the Organization interests to have any sort of violence take place here, wouldn't it?"

"Very bad. I hope you aren't suggesting any."

I leaned on his shoulder, very slightly. "I? No, no, not at all. I wouldn't think of such a thing. I was just making conversation."

"I see. What was it you wanted to know?"

"Who arranged to have those Easterners arrested?"

There was the faintest hint of a tightening of muscles, but no more. "Why, the Empress, Baronet Taltos."

"At your request, Count Soffta. And I'm very anxious to learn which of my colleagues asked you to make the request."

"I believe you have been misinformed, Baronet Taltos."

"Have you heard of me, Count Soffta?"

My hand didn't leave his shoulder, but neither did it tighten, nor did I make any other movement. He said nothing for two or three heartbeats, then he said, "It may take me some time to find out, and I'm expecting a rather large number of visitors very soon."

"Yes, I imagine you are. But under the circumstances, I'm willing to let it take as much time as necessary. I'm sure your visitors will understand."

"It could be very expensive."

"I'm prepared to pay. It is my wife, you know"

"Yes. . . ."

"So the cost is irrelevant."

"I guess it is."

"Perhaps it would be best if you could gather the information?

I could almost feel him weighing the odds, attempting to select the best thing to say, the best thing to do. "There may be repercussions—"

"I have absolutely no doubt that there will be. I accept them."

"All of them?"

"Whatever may happen. But I hope your information is complete and accurate, or there could be consequences you don't foresee."

"Yes. Toronnan."

"I'm not surprised. Do you know why?"

"No."

"Very well. Will you do me the honor of accompanying me out to the street?"

"I should be glad to, Lord Taltos."

"Then let us walk together."

We did so, smiling, my hand resting gently on his back. When we reached the street, I made certain there was no one nearby and composed my mind for a teleport. I let Spellbreaker fall into my left hand, just in case. "Count Soffta, I wish to thank you for your help."

"The fruits of your inquiry will be my reward, Baronet Taltos."

"No doubt. One thing, though."

"Yes."

"The Tuzviz you served me. It was quite good, but it is brandy, not wine. You should remember that."

"Thank you, Lord Taltos. I shall."

I released him and let the teleport take effect.

An unusual sight, not explained by the celebrations prepared for the next couple of days, greeted me when I walked into my office: Sticks was there, holding his clubs lightly, as if tossing them around, and next to him, looking quite out of place in his bright island clothing and norska hat, was Aibynn. They were speaking quietly about something arcane, Aibynn pointing to the clubs, and Sticks gesturing with them. Perhaps they were comparing the arts of battery and drumming. On reflection, that isn't that strange an idea: Both require relaxation and tension in the right degree, speed and suppleness, and good understanding of timing, control of the body, and concentration of the mind. Interesting notion.

But at the time I wasn't thinking about that. I said, "Aibynn, what are you doing here?"

He spoke, as always, slowly, as if he were constantly being distracted by the ultimate rhythms of the universe. "To say thanks for lining up that job for me."

"Oh. Think nothing of it. It's going well, I take it."

"Well? We've played one night together and we've be summoned to play for the Empress tomorrow."

"For the Imperial New Year's celebration?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Odd time to call it New Year, though. On the island, the year begins in the winter."

"Spring makes more sense, doesn't it?"

He shrugged.

"In any case," I went on, "the New Year is a big deal at the Palace. I'm very impre—hmmm."

"What is it?"

"Eh? Nothing." It had suddenly occurred to me that I had slain his King, and here he was about to appear before my Empress. If he were, in fact, an assassin himself, I had just set her up as elegantly as if I'd planned it. I briefly considered whether to do anything about it, then decided that it was none of my business. It may be that if he was an assassin I'd have to clear out before they traced the connection between Aibynn and me, but other than that, so what?

I congratulated him again and went past into my office, asking Melestav to send Kragar in. I forced myself to concentrate on the door, and so I noticed him when he entered. He took one look at me and said, "Who's the target?"

"Toronnan."

"Himself, eh? Is he after us, or are we after him? Not that it really matters."

"Neither one, exactly. Kelly's bunch were arrested by his orders. I want to find out what he's after."

"Sounds good. How?"

"Buy someone in his organization, of course."

"Oh, sure. Just like that."

"If it was easy, Kragar, I'd do it myself."

He blinked. "It's nice to hear you say that out loud after all this time of—"

"Kill it."

"Speaking of."

"Hmmm?"

"We going to shine him?"

"I hope not. I've done too much of that. Any more, and people are going to start getting nervous—people I don't want to make nervous. Besides, I have my hands full with South Adrilankha right now; I don't need more territory."

He nodded. "That's what I've been thinking. Okay, I'll see if anyone is for sale in his organization." He got up, stopped, and said, "Do you think he might have bought someone in ours?"

"No way to know," I said. "It's a possibility. But I'm not going to start getting paranoid about it."

"I guess not."

"Oh, bring me a full set of weapons. It's about that time."

"Okay. Back soon." He left, looking unusually thoughtful.

A couple of hours later, as I was finishing up the process of changing weapons, Melestav walked into my office.

"Message by courier, boss."

"Oh, really? Someone's being formal. Did he let you chop for it?"

"Yeah. Here it is."

I inspected the single folded and sealed sheet and learned nothing interesting. I didn't recognize the seal, but I don't think there are more than three or four seals would recognize. I'm not certain I'd know my own. I opened it, read, and considered.

"What is it, boss?"

"What? Oh. The gentleman who invited me over a few days ago wants to see me again, but he's not in as much of a hurry."

"Toronnan?"

"That's the guy."

"Think it's a setup?"

"Hard to say. He wants me to name the time and place today or tomorrow. It would be hard to rig that."

"Okay, Vlad," said Kragar. "Do you want me to up protection?"

"Damn right."

"Good. I'll take care of it. Where?"

"I'm still thinking about it. I'll tell Melestav when I decide."

He left to make arrangements.

"What do you think it is, boss?"

"I don't know. I hope it's not the beginning of another war; I don't think I could handle it. "

"You and me both. "

"Maybe I should get out of this business, Loiosh."

"Maybe you should."

He fell silent and I considered. Maybe I should get cutout of the whole thing. Killing people for money, earning a living from Teckla and fools, maybe I'd had enough. Maybe I could—

Could what? What would I do? I tried to imagine myself living like Morrolan or Aliera, safe on a piece of land somewhere watching the Teckla work the fields—or not watching as the case may be. Sitting around, indulging whatever vague curiosities came my way. No, I couldn't see it. Perhaps my existence was pointless in any grand scheme of things, but it kept me entertained.

Yes, but was that sufficient justification for all the things I had to do, just to stay alive and in business? Well, why did I feel the need to justify myself in the first place? In part, I guessed, because of Cawti. She'd been just where I knew I didn't want to be, idle and frustrated, and she'd handled it by getting involved with a bunch of crazies with a noble cause. What else? Well, there was my grandfather, whom I respected more than I respected anyone else. He knew what I did and, when I asked him, had given me his opinion on it. More fool me for asking.

But this was silly. Perhaps, later, I could decide if I wanted to change the way I lived, but right now my wife was in prison and I had just stirred up a school of orca by oh-so-gently threatening the Organization representative in the Imperial Palace, someone who ought to be left alone if anyone should. No, the

Organization wasn't about to let one lone Easterner get away with anything like that. I was going to have either figure out a way to pacify them or figure out a way to escape. Maybe I'd relocate to Green-aere and learn to drum.

Or not.

"Melestav."

"Yeah, boss?"

"Find out where Aibynn is playing tonight and send a courier to Toronnan. Tell him we'll meet him there at the eighth hour. "

"Okay, boss."

"And put the word out that we might get hit soon."

"Again?"

"I guess it's just one of those years."

"I guess so, boss."

The Loquacious Madman is on Czigarel Street near Un-dauntra, in a district with very little Organization activity. I arrived two or three minutes early with Sticks and an enforcer we called Glowbug. Kragar had said he'd be there, too, but I didn't notice him. It is unlikely, however, that I would have noticed Sethra Lavode in that crowd. The festivities were already beginning. There were trails of cold fire traveling along all the walls; bouncing globes throughout the room, changing colors as they swirled; and ribbon trails hanging from the ceiling.

The crowd was mostly Teckla, all decked out like the bouncing globes in reds and yellows and blues, and merchants and artisans proudly wearing whatever they worked in, and brazenly flaunting their lovers, but here and there you could see the masked aristocracy of the House of the Tiassa or the Lyorn, adding a gentle touch of light blue or brown, and inserting whatever particular flavor of loud troublemaking or quiet drunkenness pleased them the most.

Which is not to say the place was crowded—yet. It's a big place, and things were just starting to get going. It was loud, but not deafening. Either a very good or a very strange time and place to have a business meeting.

Toronnan arrived less than two minutes after I did, preceded (as was I, by the way) by a couple of toughs who checked the place over for any sign of this being a setup. It isn't easy to tell that sort of thing, even when there isn't a celebration going on, but it can be done. You have to look at everyone in the place, especially the waiters, and note how each one carries himself, where he is placed, and if he seems to be carrying any concealed weapons, or looks familiar, or doesn't seem to fit in.

I had done that a few times, and the one time it really had been a setup, for a guy named Welok, I had almost missed it that one of the cooks wasn't using his knife the way a real cook would—instead of gripping it between thumb and forefinger on the blade with the pommel resting on the heel of his hand, he was gripping the pommel like a knife-fighter. I mentioned this to Kragar, with whom I was working, who looked closely and realized that he knew the guy. The meeting was called off, and three months later I was hired by Welok to kill an enforcer named Kynn who worked for Rolaan—the man who'd called the meeting.

But I digress. I hadn't set up anything and neither had Toronnan. Indeed—this was a very bad situation to kill someone in, because the large and unpredictable crowd is likely to surprise you, and assassins hate surprises. He sat facing me, his back to the door. I started to signal a waiter over, but he didn't let me. "This won't take that long," he said.

I kept my face expressionless. It is a major break in protocol to set up a business dinner and not eat. I wasn't certain what it indicated, but it wasn't good. I settled back in the chair and said, "Go ahead, then."

"This has gone up to the Council. You have powerful friends there, but I don't think they can help you this time."

"I'm still listening."

"We're sorry your wife got involved in this, but business is business."

"I'm still listening."

He nodded. "I was up before the Council today. They asked if you could be shined without a fight. I said not unless they could find Mario. That doesn't mean they aren't going to try, but you probably have a reprieve. Do you understand?"

"Not quite. Keep talking."

' 'We just had a big mess between you and this Herth character, and before that you had an altercation with some teckla that ended up with the Empire stepping in, and in between was a big, bloody mess in the Hills between Be'er and Fyrnaan."

"I heard about that. I wasn't involved."

"That's not the point. The Organization has been calling way too much attention to itself and the Council is tired of it. That's the only thing that's keeping you alive."

"I take it I've offended someone."

"You've offended everyone, idiot. You don't go around threatening the Organization representative in the Imperial Palace. Can you understand that?"

"Threaten? I?"

"Don't play stupid, Whiskers. I'm telling you to lay off. I'm telling you—"

"Why did you arrange to have those Easterners arrested?"

"You don't ask me questions, Whiskers. I ask you questions, you answer them, then I tell you things and you do them. That is the nature of our relationship. Can you grasp that, or do I need to illustrate it?"

"Why did you arrange to have those Easterners arrested?"

A sneer began to appear on his face but he put it away. "Is there some reason I should answer you?"

"I'll kill you if you don't."

"You'd never make it out of here alive."

"I know."

He stared at me. At last he said, "You're lying."

I shook my head. "No. I don't lie. I'm cultivating a reputation for honesty so I can blow it when something big comes along. This ain't it."

He snorted. "Just how much bigger a thing do you want?"

"Wait and see."

His teeth worked inside his mouth. Then he said, "Orders came from the Council. I don't know who it was."

"You could probably make a good guess if you put your mind to it."

We matched stares, then he said, "My boss. Boralinoi."

"Boralinoi," I repeated slowly. "That would make sense. My area is your area is his area, and I now own South Adrilankha, so he's responsible."

"That's right. And if you think you can mess with him—"

I shook my head. "I want my wife back, Lord Toronnan. That's what it all comes down to, okay? There's no way I'm going to let her rot in the Imperial Dungeons, so you'd better figure out a way to help me, or stay out of my way, or try your best to put me down, because I'm going to be moving."

He stood up. "I'll remember that, Lord Taltos. I will remember it."

After he was gone, I moved to the other side of the table, so I could watch the musicians, who were just setting up. It took me a while to find a waiter, but I finally succeeded and ordered pasta with peppers and sausage. He seemed surprised that I actually wanted to eat; I suppose most people were just drinking. And then when he started to leave, Kragar called him back and ordered one f the same, which puzzled him even more although he tried not to show it.

"What happened?" he said.

"I seem to have made another enemy."

"Oh? Toronnan?"

"No. The Jhereg."

Kragar cocked his head to the side. "Tell me something, Vlad: Why do I keep sticking with you?"

"I don't know. Maybe you aren't. Maybe you're setting up to knife me."

"Don't start getting paranoid now."

"Well, if you aren't setting up to knife me, maybe you should be. This would be the right time."

He stared at me very hard, no sign of banter on his face. "You'd better give me the details," he said.

I did so, starting with my interview with Soffta, up to the conversation with Toronnan. The food arrived in the middle of it and, as I was concluding, the musicians started up. I was surprised at how well the crowd quieted down, but I was pretty sure they'd make up for it later. I hoped to be gone by then.

The food was edible, the wine quite dry but good. The singer was good. Aibynn stayed pretty much in the background so I didn't notice him too much, though I might have if I'd known anything about music. I did note the dreamy smile on his face, which reminded me of how my grandfather looked when in the middle of a spell. For all I know I look the same way.

Eventually they stopped, and Aibynn came over and introduced his partner, a relatively short Tiassa named Thoddi. We discussed inanities for a while, then they played some more. Kragar said, "What's the plan?"

"I think I'm going to have to find this Boralinoi."

"That could be dangerous."

"Probably. Find out where he works."

"What? Now?"

"Now. I'll wait here."

"Look, Vlad, aside from the obvious stupidities of barging in to see this guy without setting things up, how do you know Toronnan hasn't just sent a team over here to shine you when you leave?"

"Let him try," I said. "Just let him try."

"Vlad-"

"Do it. Find out where he is. I'll wait here."

He sighed. "Okay. I'll see you soon."

My enjoyment of the music was dampened just a little by a need to keep an eye on the door, but not too much, because there were Loiosh, Sticks, and Glowbug. Presently Kragar got hold of me again and told me where to find Boralinoi when he was working.

"He isn't there now, Vlad. You'll have to wait until tomorrow. "

"I guess."

"Why don't you think the whole thing over, then ? Maybe you—"

"Thanks, Kragar. I'll see you tomorrow. "

The crowd was just making it impossible to listen to the music when they stopped, and announced that they were finished and someone else would be playing next, which surprised me. I threw an Imperial into the jar, paid for the food and drink, and walked back home with Aibynn. We didn't speak for a while, then I ventured, "You sounded pretty good."

"Yeah," he said. "That was a good one. Did you notice those fake seventy-twos I was throwing into the seventeens?"

"Uh, well, no, not really."

He nodded. "They weren't really seventy-twos, because you have to punch the one, the six-seven-eight, the ten, and the sixteen-seventeen of every measure, but it kind of works if you pretend every third measure is . . ." He went on, with me nodding and making interested sounds. Sticks, who was in front, fell back a bit to listen and the two of

them got into a discussion of arcane matters beyond the likes of me. I still wondered who Aibynn really was, and what he was doing here, and if he was going to assassinate the Empress.

Not that I cared.

"What do you care about, boss?" said Loiosh as we walked up the stairs to my flat.

"Getting Cawti out of prison."

"And then?"

"Don't ask difficult questions, Loiosh. "

I asked Sticks and Glowbug if they wanted some wine before they took off. Glowbug didn't, but Sticks knows the kind of wine I keep around the house, so he was right behind me when I went through the door.

What impressed me the most, I think, was how quickly Toronnan had moved. It was, what, half an hour, maybe, since I'd left him. The assassin was waiting just inside the door of the flat, and neither Loiosh nor I had any inkling. But Sticks, as I said, was right behind me, and when the dagger came slicing toward the back of my neck, he acted, pushing me sideways and forward into the room. I rolled and came up in time to see Sticks holding his clubs, connecting with the guy's head, very hard. The guy went down. I felt a burn along my neck, touched my hand, and found blood. I hoped his blade hadn't been poisoned. I discovered I was trembling.

"Good work," I told Sticks. His only answer was to slump to the floor. It was only then that I noticed the stiletto that had gone completely through his throat and out the back of his neck.

Aibynn came into the room then and knelt next to Sticks, whose eyes were open and glassy. Loiosh landed on my shoulder and nuzzled my ear. I inspected the corpse of my enforcer and saw that his backbone had been neatly severed. What you call in the business a lucky shot.

An hour or so later the bodies were gone, and Kragar was sitting in the living room with me while I gradually stopped trembling. "Right in my house, Kragar," I said for about the ninth time.

"I know, boss," he said.

"You don't do that."

Aibynn was in his room, drumming, he said, to pull himself back together. Kragar said, "I know why they did, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember a few weeks ago? Didn't you go busting into someone's house to get information from him?"

I took a very deep breath. "Yes," I said.

"There you have it. You broke the rules, they broke the rules. That's how it works, Vlad."

"I should have known."

"Yeah."

Not more than a month before, Sticks had refused an offer for my head. His refusal had made him a target, and I'd saved his life, just as he'd saved mine before. And for what?

"I don't think you should stay here, Vlad."

"I'm not going to, Kragar. Thanks. I'm all right now."

"I'll wait until you leave, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, okay."

I suggested to Aibynn that this might not be a safe place to stay tonight. He said, "No problem. I have a friend I can stay with."

"Good. I'll see you sometime."

Kragar escorted me down the stairs and left me when it looked safe.

"Where are we going, boss?"

"An inn I know, on the other side of town.

"Why there?"

"It's across the street from where Boralinoi works."

"Ah. What about Toronnan? He was the one who—"

"Fuck Toronnan. Fuck revenge. I'm getting Cawti back. "

It was a good three-hour walk, but I think it did me good.

I was up early the next morning, waiting just outside the inn where I'd spent the night. I stood in the shadow of the doorway, waiting. Rocza flew around looking harmless and terrorizing all the local, city-bred jhereg while Loiosh waited with me. I had six good hours of sleep inside of me, followed by three cups of klava and crumb-bread with goat cheese. A sharp, steady wind came up the hill from my left, smacking me in the face and giving rise to reflections on the passing away of the old and the unfathomable nature of the new.

Not a bad day to kill, not a bad day to die, if either came to pass.

While I didn't know what Boralinoi looked like, I had no trouble spotting him by the two enforcers who preceded him, the one on either side, and the two who followed him. They were good, too. I idly went through possibilities for nailing him as he walked down the street, and came to the conclusion that I'd have to bribe at least two, perhaps three of those enforcers to have a reasonable chance. They really were attending to business, and I had to do some fast shifting to avoid being spotted. Boralinoi was dressed expensive and walked like he knew it. I thought he'd look good in court, with his perfect black curly hair, rings on all his fingers, and delicate precise steps. He looked like he was probably perfumed, and doubtless had a scent-cloth next to his collar, lest he meet with someone whose breath he didn't like.

He went into the leather shop that housed his offices in back. I gathered Rocza to my other shoulder and followed him in. I've always loved the smell of fresh leather, though here it was a bit overpowering, I suppose due to the admixture of scents of various oils and unguents used by this mysterious trade. In the front part of the store hung vests and jerkins, and when I slipped past to the back, there was an old Vallista laboriously pushing a heavy needle thick thread into the seam of what looked like a leather flagon. Why anyone would wish to drink from a leather flagon, I don't know.

Before he noticed me, I got past him and was facing a stairway leading up. At its top were two Jhereg who didn't look friendly. They studied me and seemed to be wondering if they should challenge me or just drop me where I stood. I reached the top alive and said, "Vlad Taltos to see Lord Boralinoi."

The shorter of the two said, "Appointment?"

"No."

"Wait there, then."

"Yes."

He concentrated for a moment, nodded as if to himself, and said, "What do you want to see him about?" He had a voice like a metal file; it set my teeth on edge.

"It's a personal matter."

"So make a sacrifice."

"Whom do you suggest?"

He smiled a little. I wondered if he kept his teeth crooked on purpose, just for the effect. He concentrated again, then said once more, "Wait."

After a minute or two of standing there regarding the toughs who were regarding me, he said, "Go on in, the boss will give you five minutes."

"Oh, happy day," I said, and went past them.

There were five more in the next room, one at a desk and four lounging around. I knew them all for killers at once. The one at the desk nodded to me, the others looked me over much the way I look over a game hen before I loosen its skin to fill it with mushrooms, garlic, and tarragon.

There were three doors. I pointed to the middle one, asked a question with my eyebrows, received a nod, and went through. His desk was big, and he sat behind it like he belonged there. There were two Jhereg in the room with him, one quiet-looking wisp of a man with a pinched in face and a dimple who was either an accountant or a sorcerer, and another tough, this one with the cold look of someone who would kill anyone, anytime, for any reason at all. When I came in he shifted his shoulders and an a hand down his chin, in a gesture I recognized as checking to make sure the surprises under his cloak were all in place and ready. I automatically ran a hand through my hair and adjusted the clasp of my cloak. All of mine were set.

There were no windows in the room, and, so far as I could tell from a quick glance, no other exits. I'd give odds that there was a hidden door somewhere, because that's how these people work, but I couldn't find it. Loiosh shifted uncomfortably on my shoulder; he didn't like the lack of an escape route, either. Rocza, on my other shoulder, picked up some of his nervousness. Boralinoi's eyes rested on each of the jhereg in turn, then he looked at me.

"I've heard of you, Lord Taltos," he said.

"And I, you, Your Lordship."

"You wanted to speak to me. Go ahead."

"It's a private matter, Your Lordship."

Without taking his eyes from me, he said, "Cor, N'vaan, don't speak of this to anyone."

That was the best I was going to get, then. I said, "I'm coming to you for advice about my marriage, Your Lordship."

"Sorry. I'm not married."

"A shame, Your Lordship. Marriage is bliss, you know. But I believe Your Lordship might be able to help me, anyway."

He took a scent-cloth from his collar and waved it in front of his face, dabbed it against the corners of his mouth, crumpled it up in his hand, and leaned back in the chair. "You're talking about the woman who's been working with those troublemakers in South Adrilankha."

"She's the only wife I have, Your Lordship. I'd sure hate to lose her."

"Why do you come to me?"

"It was by your orders that those people were arrested. I would think you could have one released."

"What makes you think I arranged it?"

"A dream I had last night, Your Lordship. We Easterners always believe our dreams."

"I see." He leaned forward and stared at me. "Listen to me, Baronet Taltos, so I don't have to repeat myself. Those troublemakers are making trouble, and not just in South Adrilankha. The trouble they're making affects what happens in the rest of the city and beyond its borders. We've already had noticeable cuts in our profit in several areas, traced directly to Teckla getting too smart for themselves. If a thing like that happens on its own, so be it; I wouldn't interfere. But it isn't happening on its own, these people are making it happen. And who's right in front of making it happen? Your wife, Taltos. A Jhereg. The Empire has come to us, through our representative, and complained. They've denied petitions of ours because of the trouble stirred up by this Jhereg Easterner wife of yours. We can't have that.

"Yes, I got them arrested. I'll even tell you how, Taltos. I had a sorcerer of mine blow up a watchstation in South Adrilankha, and leave messages all over it that looked like they'd done it. Does that shock you? It shouldn't. They needed to be put away, and I've put them away. If I haven't done it thoroughly enough, then I'll go back and do it again.

"I'm sorry it's your wife who's involved, Lord Taltos, I really am. But that's just your hard luck. Let her out? She was the one I most needed to get. So live with it. Go out and find someone else. If I have my way, she'll rot in the Imperial Dungeons until the Great Sea of Chaos floods the Empire. That's all I have to say. Happy New Year."

"Easy, boss."

"I know, Loiosh. I'm trying. Keep Rocza under control, will you?" I didn't say anything for a moment, trying to check my temper, and to keep the effort off my face. Then I spoke slowly and carefully, to make sure there was no mistake.

"So you arranged for my wife to be arrested by the Empire?"

"Yes"

"That is, my wife in particular?"

"Yes."

I looked him up and down once, and said, "You know, I believe I'm going to mess you up."

"No, you're not," he said, and concentrated very briefly. 'The door behind me opened, and, as I turned my head, five of them came through. They were all of them holding daggers; no doubt they'd been waiting for this. I turned back and saw that Boralinoi had pushed his chair back and the two who'd been standing there stepped between him and me. The tough one drew a shortsword. There was an awful stillness, as if the time between heartbeats had stretched across an ocean of movement, holding the world exactly as it was for just one instant that took forever.

"You're right," I said at last. "I'm going to kill you." Interestingly enough, if there'd been fewer of them I might not have gotten out of there. But the room wasn't really big enough for all of them to work together, as long as I got the jump; and I did. Loiosh let me see what was behind me well enough for me to throw a pair of daggers into the stomachs of the two directly behind me, which slowed them down a great deal, and at the same time Rocza flew at the most dangerous of them, the sorcerer.

I spun away throwing a handful of darts randomly in the general direction of the three between me and the door, then pivoted away from whatever those behind me might be up to. I was through the door before they could recover. Loiosh went flying down the hall to find out what was up ahead while I turned back to the door. I had just time to draw my rapier, which is sometimes a handicap against the huge Dragaeran longswords, but worked very nicely indeed against the Jhereg with the dagger who charged out at me. I cut his knife hand and scored his neck in two quick movements of the wrist that would have made my grandfather proud, then backed up a few steps.

I took a throwing knife into my left hand as Rocza flew out the door and past me to help Loiosh in case he was in trouble. Verra, my goddess, what a team we were that day! The tough one with the shortsword appeared in the door and took my knife directly in his chest. He didn't go down, which was ideal, since he blocked the door quite effectively. Loiosh gave me the all-clear for the next room, and I was through it and down the stairs.

I'm not much of a sorcerer, but it doesn't take much of a sorcerer to fuse a door shut, and the few seconds that gained me made all the difference.

"Two toughs in here waiting for you, boss. We're distracting them, but—yikes!"

"You all right, Loiosh?"

"Near miss, boss."

"Tell me when."

"Wait ... wait ..." I took Spellbreaker into my left hand, wishing I'd had a third hand to hold some darts. "Now!" and I charged through the door, point-first.

Loiosh and Rocza had, indeed, distracted them, and the point of my rapier through a throat distracted one of them more. The other, slashing desperately at Rocza, concentrated on me and gestured, but Spellbreaker, spinning wildly, handily stopped whatever it was. I slashed in his general direction just to give him something to think about, then I was through the door. Loiosh and Rocza beat him out of it, I shut it, did my little fusing thing again, and ran like hell down the stairs.

The leatherworker seemed to be just a leatherworker, because his only reaction to seeing me appear with a blooded sword was to squawk and cower, and then I was in the street, across the street, behind a building.

"We're teleporting, folks."

"What if they trace it?"

"Watch me." And I put forth my power and appeared in the courtyard of Castle Black, where a guest is always safe, as I've good reason to know. I didn't throw up, but the aftereffect of the teleport had me on my knees and the world spinning. Seeing the ground a mile below didn't help, either, but knowing I was safe, if only for a moment, more than made up for the discomfort.

After a time, I got to my feet and headed for the great double doors, my knees vibrating like Aibynn's drum.

Lady Telda directed me to the third-floor study in the South Wing, where I found Morrolan closeted with Daymar, whom I mentioned earlier. Daymar was thin and angular, with the sharp nose, chin, and jawline of the House of the Hawk, softened by a broad forehead and wide-set eyes. Loiosh flew over to greet Morrolan. Rocza, oddly enough, flew over to Daymar, whom she had never met, and stayed on his shoulder for the entire conversation.

Morrolan and Daymar were hunched over a table. Between them was something that looked to be a large black jewel. They were poking at it and staring at it as if it were a small animal and they wanted to see if it was alive. I went over to the table myself, and it took them a few moments to notice me. Then Daymar looked up and said, "Oh, hello, Vlad."

"Good morning. What is that?"

"That," said Morrolan, "is black Phoenix stone."

"Never heard of it," I said.

"It is similar to gold Phoenix stone," said Daymar helpfully.

"Yes," I said- "Only black instead of gold."

"Right," said Daymar, not noticing my sarcasm.

"What is gold Phoenix stone?"

"Well," said Daymar, "once we discovered the black, we started digging around in Morrolan's library and found a few references to it."

"Morrolan," I said, "would you care to enlighten me?"

"Do you recall," said Morrolan, "the difficulty we had with psionic contact on the island?"

"Yes. Daymar was cut off, as I recall."

He looked up from scratching Rocza's chin. "Not cut off " he said. "I collapsed from the effort of maintaining contact.

I stared at him. "You?"

"I."

"My goodness."

"Yes."

Morrolan said, "The only place Phoenix stone occurs is on the eastern and southern coast of Greenaere. Essentially, no psychic activity can pass through the effect of the stone, and the concentration around the island is sufficient to make it unreachable."

"Then why could Loiosh and I communicate?"

"Exactly," said Morrolan. "That is, indeed, the question. The only idea I've been able to come up with is that the connection between witch and familiar is fundamentally different from psionic communication. But how it is different, I don't know. I'd been planning to reach you, but since you are here, perhaps you'd be willing to assist us in a few experiments to determine exactly that."

"I'm not sure I like this, boss."

"You and me both, Loiosh." To Morrolan I said, "This may not be the best time."

His eyebrows focused on me. "Why? Has something happened?"

'Oh, nothing. Another close brush with death, but what's one more of those?"

For a moment he looked puzzled, trying to work out where the irony was, then he said, "Would you like some wine?"

"Love some. I'll help myself." I did so.

Morrolan said, "Tell me about it, Vlad."

"Jhereg troubles."

"Again?"

"Still."

"I see."

Day mar said, "Can I help?"

"No. Thanks."

"Say, boss, doesn't Aibynn have one of those things hanging around his neck?"

"Come to think of it, yes."

"So that's why I could never spot him."

"Or anyone else on Greenaere, probably. Yeah. "

I turned back to Morrolan. "Where did you find this?"

A little Morrolan smile flitted across one side of his face. "Exploring," he said.

"Where?"

"In the Imperial Dungeons."

My heart started hammering. I said, "Cawti—"

"She's fine. We didn't actually speak much, but I saw her—"

"How did you—?"

"I was visiting the Palace, and I got lost, and about thirty Imperials got lost as well, and there I was."

My hands were getting tired where I was gripping the chair. I relaxed them. "Did you speak at all?"

"I said hello, she looked surprised and nodded to me, by which time my guide was too nervous about the whole thing to keep me there. But I kept noticing these crystals about the place, so I acquired one on my way out."

"But she seems well?"

"Yes. She seemed quite, um, spirited."

"Did—damn. Wait a moment." I grumbled, debated ignoring whoever it was, decided there was too much hap-

nins right now and let my mental barriers down. "Who is it?"

"Me, boss. Where are you? I can hardly maintain contact"

"Just a moment, Melestav." I moved to the far side of the room, well away from the crystal. "Is that better?"

"Some."

"Okay. What is it? Can it wait?"

"Another messenger, boss." There was something odd in his tone. I said, "Not from Toronnan this time?"

"No, boss. From the Empress. She wants to see you. Tomorrow. "

"The Empress?"

"Yeah."

"Tomorrow?"

"That's what I said."

"Tomorrow is New Year's day."

"I know.

"All right. I'll talk to you later. "I turned to Morrolan."Can you think of any reason why the Empress would want to see me on New Year's Day?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Do you sing?"

"No."

"In that case, it must be something important."

"Oh, grand," I said. "I can hardly wait."

"In the meantime," said Morrolan, "I just want to try a couple of things. I assure you there is no risk."

"What the hell, boss? The worst that can happen is that it'll kill us, and then we don't have to worry about what

the Empress is going to do. "

'A point, " I said, and told Morrolan to go ahead.

The next day was the first day of the Month of the Phoenix, in the Year of the Dzur, during the Phase of the Yendi in the Reign of the Phoenix, Cycle of the Phoenix, Cycle of the Dragon, which is why most of us say the year 244 after the Interregnum.

I was off to the Imperial Palace. Happy New Year.

If you're sitting on the edge of your chair waiting to hear what the Imperial Palace was like, you're in for a disappointment; I don't remember. It was big and impressive and was built by people who know how to do things big and impressive, and that's all I remember. I was there just past noon, all dressed up in my Jhereg colors, with my boots brightly polished, my cloak freshly cleaned, and a jerkin that fairly glittered. I had found my pendant of office and put it around my neck; just about the first time I'd worn it since I'd inherited it. I had thought for a long time about leaving Loiosh behind, and he'd politely refrained from the conversation, but in the end I couldn't bring myself to do it, so he sat proudly on my right shoulder. Rocza, who had been left behind, wasn't very happy about it, but there are limits to how much of an outrage I wanted to be the first time I officially appeared before the Empress.

Appear before the Empress.

I was a Jhereg, the scum of society, and an Easterner, the scum of the world. She sat with the Orb revolving about her head, in the center of the Empire, and at her command was all the power of the Great Sea of Chaos, as well as all the military might of the Seventeen Houses. She had survived Adron's Disaster, and braved the Paths of the Dead, rebuilding, almost overnight, an Empire that had fallen to ruin. Now she wanted to see me, and you think I was in shape to take notes on architecture?

I'd seen her once before, but that was in the lorich Wing, when I'd been questioned concerning the death of a high noble of the House of the Jhereg. It seems that a minor boss in the Organization, a certain Taishatinin or something, had bought himself a Dukedom in the House and then proceeded to get himself killed. I can't imagine why he wanted it except perhaps to feed his self-esteem, but there it was; he was a Duke, and when a Duke is murdered, the Empire investigates.

And somehow my name came up, and, after spending a couple of weeks in the Imperial Dungeons, I was ordered to testify "Under the Orb," with the Empress there to observe, and all these peers of House Jhereg who had no power at all in the running of the Organization. I was asked things like, "When did you last see him alive?" and I'd say, "Oh, I don't know; he was always pretty dead," and they'd rebuke me sternly. They asked my opinion as to who killed him and I said that I believed he had killed himself. The Orb showed that I was telling the truth, and I was; messing with me the way he'd been doing was like asking to die. The only time the Orb caught me lying was when I made some remark about how overwhelmed I was to be speaking before such an august assembly.

I remember catching a glimpse or two of the Empress, seated behind me to my left, and wondering what she thought of the whole thing. I thought she was pretty for a Dragaeran, but I don't remember any of the details, except for her eyes, which were gold.

This time I noticed a little more. After a vague period of feeling as if I were being handed from one polite functionary to another, and in which I gave my name and titles more times than I had in the last year put together, I was allowed into the Imperial throne room, and then I heard my name, stepped forward, and became aware of myself and my surroundings for the first time that day. Globes and candles were lit, and the place was full of aristocrats, all in a festive mood, or pretending to be in a festive mood. I was aware of her, too. She wore a gown that was the color of her eyes and hair, and her face was heart-shaped, her brows high and fine. I stood before her in the Hall of the Phoenix. Her throne was carved of onyx and traced with gold in the representations of all Seventeen Houses. I instinctively looked for the Jhereg, and saw part of a wing near her right hand. I also discerned unobtrusive black cushions on the throne and didn't know whether to be amused or not.

The seneschal announced me and I stepped forward, giving her the best courtesy I knew how to give. Loiosh had to adjust himself to keep from falling off, but did so, I think, fairly gracefully.

"We give you welcome, Baronet Taltos," she said. Her voice was just a voice; I mean, I don't know what I expected, but I was surprised when she sounded like someone you'd meet at the market pricing coriander.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I ask only to serve you."

"Indeed, Baronet?" She seemed amused. "I suspect the Orb would detect a falsehood there. You are usually more careful in your evasions."

She remembered.

"It is a pleasure not to have to dissemble before Your Majesty," I said. "I prefer to lie directly."

She chuckled, which didn't surprise me. What did surprise me was the lack of scandalized murmuring from the faceless courtiers behind me. Perhaps they knew their Empress. She said, "We must speak together. Please wait."

"I am at your service, Majesty."

As I'd been coached, I stepped backward seventeen steps, and then to the side. I wondered if watching an hour or so of Imperial business would be boring or if it would be interesting. In fact, it was startling, because I had momentarily forgotten the festivities, and the first thing I noticed was Aibynn holding his drum to the side and speaking with the singer I recognized, and someone I didn't know who was holding an instrument similar to the Eastern Hej'du.

I went over and said hello. Aibynn seemed faintly surprised to see me, but also distracted. Thoddi was more gregarious, and introduced me to the other musician, an Athyra whose name was Dav-Hoel.

"So, there are three of you now," I remarked to Thoddi.

"Actually there should be four of us, but Andler refused to play before the Empress."

"Refused?"

"He's an Iorich, and he's upset about, you know, the conscription in South Adrilankha, and the Phoenix Guards, and that kind of thing."

"I don't want to hear about it," I said. Thoddi nodded as if he understood, which I doubted. "Anyway," I said, "good luck."

Shortly after that, they were called on. Thoddi began to sing some old tavern song about making candles, full of innuendo and bad rhymes, but I watched Aibynn. He had the same dreamy smile as always, as if he were hearing something you couldn't hear, or seeing something through his half-shut eyes that you couldn't see. Or knew something you didn't know. Such as, for instance, that he was about to assassinate the Empress.

"He's going to do it, Loiosh." "I think you're right, boss." "I don't want to be here." "Can you think of any way to leave?" "Well, no." "What do we do?"

"You come up with a plan. I'm fresh out. " I watched with a horrified fascination as Aibynn began to move, the drum cradled against his left side. He spun in place for a while, then began to dance out and back as the singing died and they just played. Was he moving closer to the Empress? I tore my eyes away from him and saw her having a low-voiced discussion with a lady of the House of the Tiassa. The Empress smiled, and though she spoke with the Tiassa, her eyes were on the musicians. She had a good smile. I wondered if it was true, the tavern gossip about a lover who was an Easterner. Aibynn was, yes, closer now. If he had concealed a or a dart, or a blowgun, he could hardly miss, and no one was near him. I began to move forward. I glanced back at the Empress, and she was looking at me now. I stopped where I was, unable to move, my heart thundering. She smiled at me, just a little, and almost imperceptibly shook her head. What was she thinking? Did she think that . . . ?

The song ended on a roll of the drum and a clatter of the lant-like instrument Thoddi played, and the musicians bowed. Aibynn returned to the side, and they started another song, an instrumental piece I didn't know. I stepped backward, shaking and confused. What had just happened? What had almost happened? How much had I imagined?

Dav-Hoel's instrument teased the melody the same way Aibynn's drum was teasing the rhythm. On the other hand, I wished they'd just play the song, but everyone else seemed very impressed, and the Empress looked positively excited. I've never been very knowledgeable about music.

After that they did a silly song about snuff, then an instrumental they introduced as the Madman's Dance, and then Loiosh said, "Boss, wake up! The Empress!"

' 'Huh ? Oh." She was gesturing to me, still looking amused.

I came forward, bowed once more, and she said, "Come with me."

" Yes, Your Majesty."

She stood, stretched quite unselfconsciously, threw a purse to the musicians, and went behind the throne through a curtained doorway. I followed, feeling self-conscious enough to make up for both of us. She turned back to me and nodded that I was to catch up to her. I did, and the four of us, the Empress Zerika, the Orb, Loiosh, and I, walked together in silence. Was it stranger for her to be walking with a Jhereg, a jhereg, or an Easterner? On the other hand, if it was true that she had a human lover—

She caught me staring at her and I turned away, feeling myself blushing

"You were thinking improper thoughts about your Empress" she said in a voice that sounded more amused than offended.

"Just speculating on rumors, Your Majesty."

"Ah. About an Eastern lover?"

"Urn, yeah."

"It's true," she said. "His name is Laszlo. He isn't my lover because he is an Easterner, nor despite it. He is my lover because I love him, and he is an Easterner because that is the house in which his soul resides."

I licked my lips. "How can you read my thoughts without my familiar catching you at it?"

She laughed, just a little. "By watching your face, and by guessing. I've gotten pretty good at it."

"That's all?"

"It is often enough. For example, I saw you try to foil an attempt on my life that was not going to take place. Had you forgotten the Orb, which protects the life of the Emperor?"

I blushed once more. I had forgotten. To cover, I said, "It hasn't always worked."

"You," she said, "are not Mario. And neither is your friend from Greenaere."

"Then I imagined the whole thing?"

"Yes."

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

"You were not troubling to keep your worries from your countenance, and you are an assassin."

"Who, me?"

"Yes," she said, "you."

There was nothing to say to that, so I said nothing. We went around a corner and through more plain white halls. She said,"For some reason, I do my best thinking when walking right here."

"Like a Tiassa", I said without thinking.

"What?"

"Excuse me, Your Majesty. Something I heard somewhere: Tiassa think walking, Dragons think standing, Lyorn think sitting, and Dzur think afterward."

She chuckled. "And when do you think, good Jhereg?"

"All the time, Your Majesty. I can't seem to help it."

"Ah. I know the feeling." We walked some more. She seemed very casual with me, but there was the Orb, circling her head slowly as we walked, and changing color occasionally; from the murky brown a few moments ago to a calm blue. I wondered if she was deliberately trying to confuse me.

"You are a very unusual man, Baronet Vladimir Taltos," she said suddenly. "You bring someone you think might be an assassin into the Empire and allow him to appear before me, and yet you were ready to act to protect me when you thought he might really do something."

"How did you know he is from Greenaere?"

"I suspected it when I found him psychically blank. I checked with the Orb, and there are memories recorded of the sort of clothes he wears and the type; of drum he plays."

"I see. Your Majesty, why did you summon me?"

"To see what you looked like. Oh, I remembered you faintly, from your skillful dancing around the truth during a certain murder inquiry. But I wanted to know a little better the man who threatened his own House representative right on the Palace grounds, and whose wife is best friends with my Heir."

I chuckled at that, remembering the nature of that friendship.

"Yes," she said, smiling. "I know all about it."

"How?"

She shook her head. "Norathar has told me nothing. But I am, after all, the Empress. I suspect I have a better spy network even than you do, Lord Taltos."

Ouch. "I wouldn't doubt it, Your Majesty." What didn't she know? Did she know, for example, that I was the one who had started the war with Greenaere? Probably not, or I'd be in the cell next to Cawti. "Is this how you usually spend the New Year's festivities, Your Majesty?"

"It is when we are threatened with war, and simultaneously with rebellion. I worry about these things, Baronet and decisions must be made—such as if I am to step down and let the House of the Dragon take the Orb. I will spend today seeing everyone who I think may have a role to play in all of this."

"What makes you think I will have a role to play in war and rebellion, Your Majesty?"

"I could give several answers to that, but the short one is when I searched the Orb for names, yours was one that emerged. I don't know why. Can you tell me?"

"No," I said, keeping careful control of my features.

"Cannot, or will not?"

"Will not, Your Majesty."

"Very well," she said, and I breathed again. I said, "Will there be war, Your Majesty?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry to hear it."

"As am I. The alliance of Greenaere and Elde will be a difficult one to defeat. It is all but impossible to effect a landing in either place, whereas we have too many miles of coastline to protect. In the end, we may have to crush them with numbers, and that will be costly, in lives and everything else."

"What do they want, Your Majesty?" "I don't know. They don't seem to want anything. Perhaps there is a madman behind it. Or a god."

We went around another turn, again to the left, and there was a slight rise to the floor. "Where are we now, Your Majesty?"

'Do you know, I'm not exactly certain. This is a route I walk often, but I've never known exactly where it goes. There are no doors or other paths that I've found or heard of. I sometimes wonder if it was put here just for this purpose."

"Then I suppose it would be pretty useless during the reign of a Dragon, Lyorn, or Dzur."

She chuckled. "I suppose it would."

The walk straightened out. "Your Majesty, why is my wife in your dungeons?"

She sighed. "First, let us be accurate. They are not dungeons. Dungeons are dank cells where Duke Curse-Me-Not keeps merchants he can't justify executing but whose goods he likes more than the prices. The Lady Cawti of Taltos, Countess of Lostguard Cleft and Environs, resides in the Imperial prison on suspicion of conspiring against the Orb."

I bit my lip. "Noted, Your Majesty."

"Good. Now, as to why she is there: because she wants to be. There was a petition to release her, it was granted, she refused."

"I know about that, Your Majesty. The Lady Norathar made this petition. What did she say upon refusing?"

"She didn't specifically say she wanted to stay, but she wouldn't sign the document we required for her release."

"Document? What sort of document, Your Majesty?"

"One that said she would not engage in any activities; contrary to the interests of the Empire."

"Ah. That would account for it." The Empress didn't say anything. I said, "But, Your Majesty, why was she arrested in the first place?"

"I'm wondering," she said slowly, "how much you know, and how much I should tell you."

"I know that it was my own House that made the petition. But why was it granted?" In other words, since when did a Phoenix Empress care a teckla's squeal about the business workings of House Jhereg?

She said, "You seem to think I am at liberty to ignore whatever requests I wish to."

"In a word, Your Majesty, yes. You are Empress."

"That is true, Baronet Taltos, I am Empress." She, frowned, and seemed to be thinking. The floor began to I

slope up and I began to feel fatigued. She said, "Being Empress has meant many things throughout our long, long history Its meaning changes with each Cycle, with each House whose turn it is to rule, with each Emperor or Empress who sets the Orb spinning about his or her head. Now at the dawn of the second Great Cycle, all of those with a bent toward history are looking back, studying how it is we have arrived at this pass, and this gives us the chance to see where we are.

"The Emperor, Baronet Taltos, has never, in all our long history, ruled the Empire, save now and again, for a few moments only, such as Korotta the Sixth between the destruction of the Barons of the North and the arrival of the Embassy of Duke Tinaan."

"I know only a little of these things, Your Majesty."

"Never mind. I'm getting at something. The peasants grow the food, the nobility distribute it, the craftsmen make the goods, the merchants distribute them. The Emperor sits apart and watches all that goes on to see that nothing disrupts this flow, and to fend off the disasters that our world tries to throw at us from time to time—disasters you can hardly conceive of. I assure you, for example, that stories of the ground shaking and fire spitting forth from it and winds that carried people off during the Interregnum are not myths, but things that would happen were it not for the Orb.

"But the Emperor sits and waits and studies and watches the Empire for those occasions when something, if not checked, might bring disaster. When such a thing does occur, he has three tools at his disposal. Do you know what they are?"

"I can guess at two of them," I said. "The Orb and the Warlord."

"You are correct, Baronet. The third is subtler. I refer to the mechanism of Imperium, through the Imperial Guards, the Justicers, the scryers, sorcerers, messengers, and spies.

"Those," she continued, "are the weapons I have at hand with which to make certain that wheat from the north gets south as needed, and iron from the west turns into swords needed in the east. I do not rule, I regulate and if I give an order, it will be obeyed. But no Emperor, with the Orb or without, can tell if every Vallista mine operator is making honest reports and sending every ton of ore where he says he is."

"Then who does rule, Your Majesty?"

"When there is famine in the north, the fishermen in the south rule. When the mines and forges in the west are producing, the transport barons rule. When the Easterners are threatening our borders, the armies in the east rule Do you mean politically? Even that isn't as simple as you think. At the beginning of our history, no one ruled. Later it was each House, through its Heir, which ruled each House. Then it became the nobles of all the Houses. For a brief time, at the end of the last Cycle, the Emperor did, indeed, rule, but that was short-lived, and he was brought down by assassination, conspiracy, and his own foolishness. Now, I think, more and more it is the merchants, especially the caravaneers who control the flow of food and supplies from one side of the Empire to the other. In the future, I suspect it will be the wizards, who are every day able to do things they could not do before."

"And you? What do you do?"

"I watch the markets, I watch the mines, I watch the fields, I watch the Dukes and the Counts, I guard against disasters, I cajole each House toward the direction I need, I—what is that look on your face for, Baronet?"

"Each House?" I repeated. "Each House?"

"Yes, Baronet, each House. You didn't know the Jhereg fits into this scheme? But it must; otherwise why would it be tolerated? The Jhereg feed off the Teckla. By doing so, they keep the Teckla happy by supplying them with those things that brighten their existence. I don't mean the peasants, I mean the Teckla who live in the cities and do the menial work none of the rest of us are willing to do. That is the prey of your House, Baronet, for if they become unhappy, the city loses efficiency, and the nobility begins to complain, and the delicate balance of our society is threatened."

The slant of the floor was back down now; I decided my legs would probably survive. "And these people," I said, "are threatening the Jhereg, and so they must be removed. Is that it?"

"Your House thinks so, Lord Taltos."

"Then you don't really believe they are a threat to the Empire?"

She smiled. "No, not directly. But if the Teckla become unhappy, well, so will others. If there were no war looming over us, perhaps it wouldn't matter. But we may require more efficiency than ever, and to have our largest city disrupted, just at this moment, could have terrible consequences for the Empire."

I thought about a story I'd once been told by a Teckla, and almost said that if the Teckla were so damn happy, why didn't she just go become one, but I was afraid she might take it the way I meant it. So I said, "Is one Jhereg Easterner likely to make that much of a difference?"

"Will it matter to your House, Baronet?"

"I don't know, Your Majesty. But it won't matter to them as much as it will matter to me."

We passed through a curtain and were once more in the throne room. I heard the strings of Thoddi's instrument, the wail of Dav-Hoel's, and the clacking drone of Aibynn's drum. The courtiers bowed, and it was as if they were bowing to me, which was pretty funny. The Empress pointed to a woman in the colors of the House of the Iorich. The woman approached as Zerika sat herself in the throne. I backed away.

"I hereby order and require the release of and full freedom for the Countess of Lostguard Cleft and Environs," she said, and I damn near cried.

Two stony-faced dragons, each wearing the gold cloak of the Phoenix and a headband bearing an lorich, delivered Cawti to the steps of the lorich Wing of the Imperial Palace, a half hour's walk from where I had left the Empress. When they first appeared, each holding one of her arms, I almost put them down right there, but Loiosh spoke to me sharply. They released her on the bottom step, backed up, bowed to her once, turned together, and walked up again without a backward glance.

I stood three feet from her, looking in vain for signs of what she'd been through. Her eyes were clear and sharp, her expression grim, but she appeared unharmed. She stood for a moment, then her eyes focused on me. "Vlad," she said. "Are you responsible for this?" She held up her right hand, which contained a rolled-up parchment.

"I guess so," I said. "What's that? A pardon?"

"A release. It says we concede your innocence and don't do it again."

"At least you're out."

"I could have been out before, if I'd wanted to be."

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not." She smiled and nodded, being more understanding than I'd expected. "Perhaps it's for the best." I shrugged. "I thought so, when you broke me out." "Hardly the same thing," she said. "Maybe not. How was it?" "Tedious."

"I'm glad it wasn't worse than that. Would you like to come home?"

"Yes. Very much. I'd like to bathe, and eat something hot, and then—"

I waited. "And then what?" I asked after a moment.

"And then back to work."

"Ah. Of course. Shall we walk, or be sick?"

She considered. "Do you know, before the Interregnum, when teleportation was more difficult, there were Teckla who earned their livelihood driving people around the city behind horses and donkeys. Or sometimes they used only their feet, pulling small coaches. They wore harnesses like they were horses or donkeys themselves "

"I don't like horses. What are donkeys?"

"I'm not certain. A variety of horse, I think."

"Then I don't like them, either. You've been reading history, I see."

"Yes. Sorcery has changed our whole world and is still changing it."

"It has indeed."

"Let us walk."

"Very well."

And we did.

I found some dried black mushrooms, poured boiling water over them, and let them soak. After about twenty minutes I cut them up with scallions, leeks, a little dill, various sorts of peppers, and thin strips of kethna. I quick-fried the whole thing with garlic and ginger while Cawti sat on the kitchen chair, watching me cook. Neither of us spoke until the food was done. We had it over some pasta my grandfather had made. I had a few strawberries that were still good, so I put them in apalaczinta with a paste made from finely ground rednuts, cinnamon, sugar, and a bit of lime juice. We had that with a rare strawberry liqueur Kiera had given me, having found it in a liquor store she was visiting after hours.

"How," I said, "can you stay away from a man who can cook like this?"

"Rigid self-control," she said. "Ah."

I poured us each some more liqueur and set the plates on the floor for the jhereg. I leaned the chair back, sipped, and studied Cawti. Despite her bantering tone, there was no light of humor in her eyes. There hadn't been for some time. I said, "What would I have to do to keep you?"

She looked at the table. "I don't know, Vladimir. I'm not sure there's anything, anymore. I've changed." "I know. Do you like what you've become?" "I'm not certain. Whatever it is, it hasn't finished happening yet. I don't know if we can change together." "You know I'm willing to try almost anything." "Almost?" "Almost."

"What won't you do?" "Ask me and we'll see."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I just don't know." This was another conversation we'd had before, with variations and embellishments. I went into the other room, next to the window so I could hear the street musicians outside. I had thrown them a bag of coins now and again, so they often played right below the window; it was one of the things I liked about the place. I threw them a bag of coins and listened for a while. I remembered how it felt to walk down the streets with her, feeling her shoulder touch mine. It had made me feel taller, somehow. I remembered meals at Valabar's, and klava in a little place where made sculpture from empty cups and the sugar bowl. I made myself stop remembering, and just listened to the music.

A little later Aibynn returned, his drum carefully wrapped in thick, soft cloth. He set it against the wall and sat down.

"How did it go in court today?"

"Great " he said. "The Empress wants us back."

"Congratulations."

"What were you doing there"

"Recovering my wife."

"Oh " He looked over at her, sitting on the longchair and reading her paper. "Good thing you got her."

She smiled at him, stood up, and said, "I believe I will bathe now."

"Mind if I watch?" I said.

She turned the smile toward me. "Yes," she said, and walked into the bathroom. I heard the sound of wood being put into the stove and of water being put on to boil. Aibynn began playing his drum, so I couldn't hear the rustle of fabric and the splashing, which was just as well, I suppose. His fingers were a blur, the beater was another. The drum hummed, then moaned, then sang, with pops and clicks emerging as if they were part of the room. I fell into it and managed not to think for a while. Maybe I should learn to drum.

An hour later she came out in her red robe, Fenarian embroidery around the bottom, tied with a white cloth. The combination enhanced her dark eyes. She sat down again in the longchair. I spoke over the low moan of Ai-bynn's drum. "Are you going back to South Adrilankha tomorrow? ' '

"Yes as long as I'm out, I'm going to work to force the Empire to release Kelly and the rest of our people."

Do you think you can?" "I don't see any other option." I thought about the Empress, about being bound in cords of necessity, and said, "Do you know what they say about cornering a dzur?"

"Yes, I do. What do they say about killing thousands of people in a war that isn't any of our business? What do they say about incarcerating us in their dungeons? What do they say about starving us into submission? What do they say about their Phoenix Guards beating and killing us?"

"A point," I said.

"I'll be gone all day tomorrow."

"Yes, I suppose you will."

"Good night, Vlad."

"Good night, Cawti."

She went into the bedroom. I moved over to the long-chair and sat down on the soft darrskin, stretched over a hardwood frame. It was still warm where she'd sat in it. Aibynn stopped playing, looked at me, expressed a wish that I'd sleep without dreaming, then put his drum down and went into the blue room. I stared out at the night through the window and felt the warm breeze that smelled just a little of the sea. Loiosh and Rocza flew over and sat on my lap. I scratched their respective chins, and presently I fell asleep.

I had a dream I don't really remember, which is almost the same as not dreaming. I think the growing light in the room and the voice in my head were both worked into it. The ugly taste in my mouth was not. I hate talking to people, even psionically, before I've had a chance to rinse my mouth out. "Who is it?"

"It's your trusty and true assistant. "

"Joy. What is it, Kragar?"

"Glowbug just got offered six thousand for looking the other way while some nice fellow sends you on to your next life. "

"Six thousand? Just for looking the other way? Verra. I've come up in the world."

I get the impression that he was tempted. "

"He 'd be stupid if he wasn 't. Why didn't he take it?"

"He thinks you're lucky. On the other hand, he's worried"

"Sensible guy. Let me wake up and and I'll get back to you."

"Okay."

I rinsed out my mouth and gave myself a quick wash.

"I think we're in trouble this time, Loiosh."

"It's a lot of money, boss. Someone's bound to go for it."

"Yep."

I started water for my morning klava and checked on the other occupants of the house. Cawti was gone, Aibynn was still sleeping. I put a log into the stove and used sorcery to light it, then set a couple of my rolls in it, got out butter and some ginger preserves. I poured the water over the ground klava, took the rolls out, prepared them, dumped heavy cream and honey in the klava, sat down, ate, drank, and thought.

Someone with the resources Boralinoi had could get me, eventually. Sooner or later, someone on my staff would give. Hell, with the kind of money he was throwing around, I might have sold out one of my own bosses at one time. Personal loyalty only gets you so far in this business; cash gets you further. There were three ways I could think of to prevent him from buying someone off and setting me up. The first, to kill Boralinoi before he could get to me, was a fine idea but impractical; it would take two or three days, at least, to even get all the information on him that I would need. For the second, outbidding him I just didn't have the resources. That left the third, which would have several potential repercussions that needed serious consideration. I had another roll.

I took my time eating and thinking. When I was done, I put the plate into the bucket drew some more water and got sticky stuff off my face and hands.

"Kragar. Kragar. Kragar. " "Who is it?"

"Master Mustache himself. When can you have everyone in the office?"

"What does 'everyone' mean this time, Vlad?" "All my enforcers, Melestav, you." Is it urgent enough that they should break off whatever they're doing?"

"Might as well. There isn't any time of day or night when some of them won't be busy doing something."

"I guess. How 'bout an hour?"

"I'll see you then."

"Want an escort?"

"No. Just make sure there's no one around the office who might want to do me injury."

"Okay, boss. We'll be there in an hour." I finished dressing, made certain of all of my concealed weaponry, and collected both Loiosh and Rocza. Aibynn was up by then, but I was pretty distracted so we didn't converse much. I send Loiosh outside first to make sure the street was clear, then carefully teleported to a spot within a quick dash of my office, but that held possibilities for other escapes if that route was blocked. It turned out to be unnecessary; except for the usual wave of nausea, the teleport was uneventful. I ducked inside the psychedelics shop that was a front for the gambling room that was a front for my office, and there I waited until I felt a little better. I went back and into my office.

They were there, twelve enforcers, Kragar, and Melestav. We were crammed into the area outside of my office and Kragar's, in front of Melestav's desk. I sat on the edge of his desk and considered the fourteen killers here assembled. Glowbug squatted against the wall, looking intense. Melestav, whose desk I'd usurped, stood near me protectively, looking at the others as if he wasn't quite sure I was safe, which was possible. There was Chimov, in the middle, waiting patiently. And the others. Stick would have grabbed a chair in front, and his long legs would have stretched out to the side, his arms folded and he would have been looking curious and ironic.

An anger began to build up inside me but I had no time for it now; I concentrated on those who were there. These were the men who kept my business going, who, just by existing, prevented Jhereg with hungry eyes from creeping into my area or trying to push me around. These were the men who took turns guarding my back when I'd walk around my area, and inspecting meeting places to make certain everything was safe. If I couldn't count on them, I might as well kill myself.

For the first time, as I studied them studying me, it seemed odd that there were no women among them. It has been Jhereg custom, as long as the Organization has existed that most of the women were sorcerers, and worked in what was referred to as the Left Hand of the Jhereg, or, informally, the Bitch Patrol. When they didn't refer to us as the Right Hand of the Jhereg, they had many colorful names for us that I see no need to go into. The two organizations cooperate, but there is no love lost between them. Once, many years before, I'd been told by an Oracle that my own left hand would bring me to the brink of ruin, and I'd wondered if the Oracle referred to the Left Hand of the Jhereg.

But I digress.

"First of all," I said, "let me tell you what's going on, as far as I can tell. The gentleman who's after my head this time is much bigger than anyone who's been after it before. He has the resources to offer six thousand to anyone who will just move aside and let me get it, not to mention what he's willing to pay to the man with the knife. On the other hand, the last thing he wants is a war, so I don't think he's going to be going after any of you directly.

This," I went on, "leaves each of you with several voices. You can, of course, sell me out. Pretty tempting

this time. I hope to make it less so in a moment. Two, you can continue business as usual and hope I can come out on top yet again, unlikely as that seems. Or, third, you can get out while you're still alive. That is what I wish to discourage."

I paused and looked about the room once more. No change in any expression, and—where was Kragar? Oh, there. Good. "This entire affair will run its course, I think, in a very few days. At the end of that time, if I win, you will all be doing at least as well as you do now, maybe better. If I lose, of course, things won't look so good.

"None of you will be protecting me, because I will not be going around with any protection." That caused a few eyes to widen. "In fact, I will not be going around at all. I will be hiding, and Kragar will run things, though I'll be in touch with him. This will remove the temptation to sell me out, because you won't be able to do so. It will remove the danger that you'll be taken down in an attempt on me, because, if there is such an attempt, you won't be there. This will begin at once, at the end of this meeting.

"So all I'm asking, gentlemen, is that you keep working for a few days and see how it all shakes out. I think the potential gains are worth the risks. Any questions?"

There were none. "Fair enough. Let Kragar know if you want out. That's all." I stood and walked into my office, moving abruptly just in case someone had been bought off and thought he could get out alive in the confusion. I sat behind my desk, feeling as if all my senses were sharpened, so I noticed Kragar as he came in. I said, "Well?"

"They're all sticking."

"Good. What do you think of the whole thing?"

"Nice of you to warn me in advance about my new responsibilities, Vlad."

"What new responsibilities? It's nothing more than you've been doing for most of the last year, anyway."

"I guess. Do you know where you're going?"

"I'm not certain. Probably Castle Black. We both know how hard it is to dig someone out of there."

"And we both know it can be done."

"True, true. I'm still thinking about it."

He nodded and looked thoughtful. "As far as I can tell, they're all taking it pretty well."

"That's good. Guess what your next set of orders is?" He sighed. "Find out everything there is to know about dear Lord Boralinoi. And you want it yesterday."

"Good guess."

"It's lucky I started work on it yesterday, or it might have taken longer."

"You mean you've got it?"

"No, but I've started. Another day or two and I should have it."

"Good. Hurry."

"I know."

"Any news of the war?"

"You have better sources than I do. Last I heard they were getting the fleet together in Northport. There's lots of activity at the harbor, in any case." "But no new disasters?"

"A couple more freighters sunk, and there's a rumor of a convoy being attacked by some ships from Elde, but I don't know if it's true." I nodded. "How about South Adrilankha?" He looked uncomfortable. "Not good, Vlad. While you were off having tea with the Empress, there were some nasty skirmishes between press gangs and Easterners. Word is two Phoenix Guards were killed and another eleven or so injured." "And Easterners?"

"No idea. Thing is, it's spreading. Nothing around here, yet, but there have been signs of trouble on the docks and in Little Deathgate." "What sort of trouble?" 'Placards going up, Teckla banding together and throwing things at Phoenix Guards. One or two barricades went up in Little Deathgate, but they didn't last long."

"Anyone hurt?"

"Not yet."

"That's something. What's the issue? Conscription?"

"No. Kelly's arrest."

"By the Phoenix!"

"That's what the word is."

I shook my head, wondering if I really knew half as much about this city as I thought I did. It was like there were invisible forces running through the streets, forces that controlled our lives and directed our actions, leaving us as helpless as a slave or an Empress. Things were happening that I couldn't understand, couldn't control, and might not survive. And whatever those things were, Cawti was right in the middle of them.

"I think I'd better be going, Kragar. I've just thought of an errand that won't wait."

"All right. Give the old man my regards."

"I will."

"And be careful, Vlad. Just because I can guess where you're going doesn't mean Boralinoi's people can, but it doesn't mean they can't, either."

"I'll be careful, Kragar. And good luck with your new job."

He snorted. "I'll need it," he said.

I followed him out, still thinking about Sticks. Something occurred to me, and I stopped and asked Melestav to find the names of the freighters that had gone down. It was unlikely Chorba's Pride was one, and I couldn't do anything about it, anyway, but I wanted to know. And I guess, somehow, I'd have felt better knowing that Trice and Yinta were still alive. He agreed to do so, and I sent Loiosh and Rocza out ahead of me, to make sure it was safe to go outside.

There was a thump behind me, and at first it didn't register that anything was wrong. Then I saw Melestav facedown on the floor and I moved away, drew a dagger, and looked around. I didn't see anything. Loiosh came back and landed on my shoulder, also looking anxiously around. I was not attacked.

Then I noticed that Melestav had a dagger in his hand and realized from his position what he'd been up to. It was only after that that I noticed Kragar, standing above my secretary's body.

"Shit," I said.

Kragar nodded. "You were set up perfectly, Vlad."

"But he didn't notice you."

I started shaking and cursing at the same time. That had been as close as I'd ever come. I looked down at his body. He had not only saved my life more than once, he had died doing it, and now this. Now he'd tried to shine me, and for what? Money? Power?

If you want to push it back, he'd tried to shine me because I'd had to go and threaten the Imperial representative, and then threaten someone on the Jhereg Council. I couldn't blame anyone but myself for this. I kept staring at the body until Kragar said, "No point in standing around here, Vlad. I'll take care of things. Get somewhere safe."

I did so without another word.

The bells in my grandfather's shop went tinga-ling as I pushed aside the rug that he used as a door. "Come in, Vladimir. Tea?"

"Thank you, Noish-pa." I kissed his cheek and said hello to his familiar, a short-haired white cat named Ambrus. The tea had a distinct lemon tang and was very good. My grandfather's hands shook, just a little, as he poured. I sat in a canvas chair in his front room while Loiosh and ocza, after greeting Noish-pa, settled down next to Ambrus for conversation on subjects I could only guess at. Where are your thoughts, Vladimir?"

"Noish-pa, what are they doing around here? I mean, the Empire, and these rebels."

"What are they doing? You come to an old man like me for this?" But he smiled with his few remaining yellowed teeth and settled back a little. "All right. The elfs want to go to war, for what reason they do not tell me. They want sailors for their ships, so they pull in young men and women for it. They send in gangs who grab people and take them, without even saying farewell to the family, and bring them to the ships, which sail away. Everyone is upset, some throw things at the elfs who want to take them. Now, these forradalomartok, they say that the war is a, what is the word? Urugy."

"Pretext?"

"Yes, a pretext, to bring in soldiers. The forradalomartok organize against this, and everyone says, 'Yes, yes, we fight,' and then they arrest this Kelly and now everyone says, 'Let him go or we will wreck your city.' "

"But it all happened so fast."

"That is how these things happen, Vladimir. You see all your peasants smile and look sleepy and they say, 'Oh, this is our lot in life,' and then something happens and they all say, 'We will die to keep them from doing this to our chijdren.' All in a night it can happen, Vladimir."

"I guess so. But I'm frightened, Noish-pa. For them, and for Cawti."

"Yes, she still walks with these people. You are right to fear."

"Can they win?"

"Vladimir, why do you ask me? If soldiers come into my shop, I will show them how old I am. But I will not go looking for them, and so I know nothing of such things. Perhaps, yes, they can win. Perhaps the soldiers will crush them. Perhaps both at once. I don't know." "I have to decide what to do, Noish-pa." "Yes, Vladimir. But there is little help I can give you." We sipped tea for a while. I said, "I don't know, maybe it's good to have this problem. It means I don't have to worry about what's going to happen afterward." He didn't smile. "It is right not to worry now. But is it possible for you?"

"No " I said. I stared at my hands. "I know you don't approve of what I do. The trouble is, I'm not sure I approve of it anymore."

"As I told you once before, Vladimir, killing people for money is no way for a man to earn a living."

"But Noish-pa, I hate them so much. I learned that I used to be one, and I thought that had changed things, but it hasn't. I still hate them. Every time I come to see you, and smell the garbage in the streets, and see people who have lost their sight, or who have diseases that could be cured by the simplest sorcery, or don't know how to write their own names, I just hate them. It doesn't make me want to fix everything, like Cawti; it just makes me want to kill them."

"Have you no friends, Vladimir?"

"Hmm? Well, yes, certainly. What has that to do with it?"

"Who are your friends?"

"Well, there's—oh. I see. Yes, they're all Dragaerans. But they're different."

"Are they?"

"I don't know, Noish-pa. I really don't. I know what you're saying, but why do I still feel this hate?"

"Hate is part of life, Vladimir. If you cannot hate, you cannot love. And if you hate these elfs, then that is what you feel and you cannot deny it. But more foolish than this hate of elfs you have never met is to let it rule you. That is no way to live."

"I know that, but I—" I broke off as Amrus jumped into Noish-pa's lap, mewing furiously. Noish-pa frowned and listened.

^What's wrong?" I said.

'Be still, Vladimir. I don't know."

Loiosh returned to my shoulder. Noish-pa got up ano walked into the front of the shop. I was about to follow him when he returned, holding a sheet of white parchment. He took a quill pen from an inkwell, and with a few quick slashes drew a sideways rectangle. He dipped the pen again, not blotting it at all, and made sloppy signs in the corners. I didn't recognize the symbols.

"What is this?"

"Not now, Vladimir. Take this." He handed me a small silver dagger. "Cut your left palm." I did so, making a cut right next to the tiny white scar I'd made only two days before. It bled nicely. "Collect some blood in your right hand." I did that, too. "Scatter it onto the paper." He held the paper about three feet in front of me. I tossed the blood onto it, making an interesting pattern of red dots. Then he threw me a clean cloth to bind my hand up. I did, concentrating a little to stop the blood and begin the healing. I wished, not for the first time, that I'd troubled to learn basic sorcerous healing.

Noish-pa studied the red dots on the parchment and said, "There is a man outside, near the door. He is waiting for you to come out so he can kill you."

"Oh. Is that all? All right."

"You know how to find the back door."

"Yes, but Loiosh will be taking it. We'll handle this our way."

He looked at me through filmy eyes. "All right, Vladimir. But don't be distracted by shadows. Concentrate always on the target."

"I will," I said. I stood and drew my rapier. "I know how to make the shadows vanish."

"Okay, Loiosh. You know what to do."

"What about Rocza?"

"She can wait with me, just in case."

We went into the back room, past the kitchen, and I let Loiosh out, then returned and stood waiting near the doorway, blade in hand. Rocza landed on my shoulder. She was heavier than Loiosh, but I was getting used to her.

"I don't see him yet, boss."

"No hurry, chum. Lots of places to hide out there the way things are packed togeth—"

"Got him!"

"Let me see. Hmmm. Don't recognize him."

"How should we play it?"

"Has he seen you?"

"No."

"Okay. Out the door, three steps, I'll take a left so we can get him away from the shop. I'll let him catch up a bit, you hit him when he starts to move, and I'll join you"

"Got it."

I put my sword away since I wouldn't be using it at once and kissed my grandfather good-bye. He suggested once more that I be careful, and I allowed as to how I would. I walked through the doorway, made a show of looking around, then headed to my left. "He's following." "Okay."

I scouted the area, looking for a place with enough people, but not too many. After about two hundred yards I found it. I slowed down, checked for an escape route or two, and finally stopped in front of a fruit stand and picked up an orange. I dug around in my purse for a coin. "Here he comes, boss."

I paid for the orange, took my dagger from my belt, cut the orange in half, and palmed the blade while looking like I'd put it away. I started sucking on a half.

"He's behind you, walking between a pair of humans. They aren't with him, so don't worry. He's getting close. He's got a weapon out ... now!"

I turned and threw the orange at him. At the same time, Loiosh struck at his knife hand and Rocza left my shoulder to attack his face with her talons. His knife hit the dirt of the street as he backed away. Loiosh got him turned around and I put my dagger in the middle of his back all the way to the hilt. He screamed and fell to his knees. I took another dagger out, grabbed his chin, slit his throat, and dropped the knife. Since he was now unable to scream, some local did it for him, and quite well, too.

I walked around the side of the fruit stall, careful not to make eye contact with anyone, and slipped between two buildings, where Loiosh and Rocza joined me. We zigzagged our way past a couple more streets, then went into a tavern, where I found water to clean orange and blood from my hands. I hate it when my hands are sticky.

We emerged into South Adrilankha midday, with gaggles of young men leaning against buildings surveying passersby, and tradesmen out in front of their shops eating. The standard meal seemed to be long loaves of bread which they dipped into something in a wooden bowl, while holding a bottle between their knees. As I relaxed a bit, since there seemed no sign of pursuit, I began to get the feeling that all was not normal here, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how.

"Can you figure out what it is, Loiosh?" "I'm not sure, boss. It's subtle." I continued walking, heading generally toward the area where Kelly's people had their headquarters. I noticed a group of a dozen or so Easterners, men and women, trotting past me. On their faces was a strange mixture of determination, confidence, and fear. No, not fear, maybe nervousness. Two of them had homemade pikes, one had a large kitchen knife, the others were unarmed. I wondered where they were going. For some reason, my heart beat faster. It seemed to fit in with whatever else I was unconsciously noticing.

"They're waiting for something, boss. It's like everyone smells that something is going to happen." "I think you're right, Loiosh. I wonder." Not far from the new headquarters was a small park, shaped like a diamond with an arc cut out of one side. It was called the Exodus, which had something to do with the arrival of masses of Easterners to Adrilankha during the Interregnum. There were a few clumps of half-starved trees, a pond full of water and algae, and unkept grass and weeds with several paths cutting across them. I crossed the Exodus on a path that took me near the small rise by the arc. I stopped there for a while and watched.

There was a pack of about two dozen boys and girls, most of them nine to eleven years old, who were industriously turning trees into spears. They had a pile of perhaps fifty already, and the work was neatly divided up: Some cut down the saplings, others trimmed and shortened them, another group removed the bark, while others smoothed and polished them, and yet another group put points on them. They were all filthy, but most of them seemed to be enjoying themselves.

There were a few who seemed grimly intent on their jobs, as if they considered themselves to be involved in matters of high importance, and some, especially the ones cutting up the logs, just seemed tired.

I watched them for a while as the significance washed over me. It wasn't so much that they were making weapons, it was the systematic way in which they were going about it. Someone had put them up to this and explained exactly what to do. Yes. Someone.

I started walking again, faster now, but I didn't make it to the headquarters. I was still half a mile away when I came upon a guard station. There was no one there wearing the gold cloak, however; instead there were a score of men and women, mostly Easterners, but I picked out a few Teckla as well, all armed, and all wearing yellow headbands. They stood outside the guardhouse, smiling and saluting everyone who came by.

They scowled at my Jhereg colors, but were willing to talk to me. I said, "What does the headband mean?"

"It means," said a willowy human woman of middle years, "that we are protectors. We have taken control."

"Of what?" I said.

"Of this part of the city."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"Press gangs," she said, as if that explained everything.

"I don't understand."

"You will, Jhereg. You'd best move along now."

It was either that or start killing Easterners. I moved along.

"I don't like this, boss. We should get out of here."

"Not yet, Loiosh."

A breeze came up, and brought with it a smell that I couldn't place. I'd smelled it before; the associations were not pleasant. But what was it?

"Horses, boss." "That's it. Where?" "Left here. Not far."

It wasn't far. Just around a curve in the street, and there ere more of the brutes than I'd ever seen at one place since the Eastern horse-army at the Wall of Baritt's Tomb. But this tjme, instead of being ridden, they were attached to large carts—six or seven carts, I think—and the carts were being loaded with boxes. I recognized them as the sort of farmers transports that regularly came into South Adrilankha with deliveries, and left while it was still morning. What was most unusual was how many of them there were.

I approached, and asked one of the workmen what was going on. He, too, sneered at my colors, but said, "We have control of South Adrilankha; now we are issuing proclamations for the rest of the city." "Proclamations? Let me see one." He shrugged and pulled a piece of paper out of the box. It was neatly set in printer's type, and said, in distinctly unimaginative language, that the Easterners and Teckla of South Adrilankha were refusing to admit press gangs into the city, and were demanding the release of their imprisoned leaders, and were rising as one to take the government from the hands of tyrants, and so on and so on.

It was there, as these wagons began to drive off, that I began to get a sense of unreality—a sense that became stronger as I wandered off and saw, lying unattended and ignored in the street, the body of a Dragaeran, dead from many wounds, wearing the gold cloak of the Phoenix Guards.

A long time later, in the cottage of an Eastern family where I spent a night, I found Maria Parachezk's little pamphlet "Grey Hole in the City," a description of those few days in Adrilankha. As I read it, I lived it again; but more than that, I found myself nodding and saying, "Yes, that's true," and, "I remember that," as she described the pikemen's stand at Smallmarket, the Guardsmen walking twenty abreast down the Avenue of the Moneylenders, the burning of the grain exchange, and other events that I actually witnessed. If you find the pamphlet, read it, and, if you like, insert here descriptions of any event that catches your imagination. Because until I read it, I didn't really remember any of those things.

I remember laughs and screams, fading into each other as if they were part of a single musical composition, although they were long hours apart. I remember the smell of the burning grain, and looking down at my hands to see the ashes there. I remember standing in an alley, out of the way of a marching battalion of Phoenix Guards, tapping a broken axe handle against the wall of a boardinghouse. There was blood on the axe handle, but I don't know how I acquired the thing, much less if I was the one to blood it.

Maria Parachezk, whoever she is, was able to make sense out of the whole thing, put events in order and connect them logically. I wasn't then, so I'm not going to pretend to now. Apparently the insurgents, Easterners and Teckla, were actually winning until late in the second day of the rebellion, the third of the new year, when the sailors on the Whitecrest withdrew their support of the rebels and allowed the landing of the Fourth Seaguard, who broke the siege at the Imperial Palace. But, from where I was, I never saw any difference between winning and losing, right up until the end, when the Orca came through the streets, mowing down everyone they saw. I didn't even find out until afterward that the Imperial Palace had been attacked twice and was under siege for nine hours.

I remember that, at one point, I became aware that I'd been in South Adrilankha for an entire day, and I remember the early evening of that day, when it seemed that the whole city was screaming, but, as I go through my memories like a cedar chest I've lost something in, I don't think that I saw anything more than sporadic fighting even at the worst. There'd be silence, a few people running, then the sound of metal on metal or metal on wood, screams,the horrible smell of burnt human flesh, so like and so unlike the smell of cooking meat. Did I actually strike a blow for "my people"? I don't remember. I've asked Loiosh, but he remembers even less; only that he kept asking me to go home and I kept saying not yet. I know that I tried to make contact with Cawti several times, but she wasn't receiving. For some reason, it was only when the massacre started—and even then I wasn't conscious of it as a massacre—that I remembered my grandfather. I walked quickly through the streets, only dimly aware that I was hurrying past the bodies of Easterners, men, women, and children. I am grateful that I can bring to mind so little of what I must have seen. I know that I skidded on something and almost fell, and only later did I realize that it was blood, flowing from the lacerated body of an old woman who was still moving.

I came across some fighting, but mostly I skirted it. At one point I ran into a patrol of four Dragaerans wearing the gold cloaks. I stopped, they stopped. They saw I was an Easterner, and they saw I was a Jhereg, and I guess that puzzled them. They didn't know what to do with me. I was not then holding a weapon, but they looked at the two jhereg on my shoulders and the rapier at my side. I said, "Well?" and they shrugged and moved on.

I saw the fires while I was still a mile or more from my grandfather's shop. I began to run. The first thing I noticed when I got there was that the house across the street from his shop was burning, as was the little grocer's next to it. As I got close enough to smell burning vegetables, I saw that Noish-pa's shop was still standing, and I began to feel relief. Then I saw that the entire front was missing, and my heart sank.

I came up to it, and the first thing I saw was the bodies of three Phoenix Guards. There was no doubt who had killed them eacn bore a single small wound right over the place where a Dragaeran or a human keeps his heart. I dashed into the shop, and when I saw him, calmly cleaning his blade, I almost cried with relief.

He looked up and said, "You should leave, Vladimir"

"Eh?"

"You should leave here. At once."

"Why?"

"Quickly, Vladimir. Please."

I looked back at the bodies, looked at my grandfather, and said, "One got away, huh?"

He shrugged. "I've never been able to kill women. This is a weakness we have from being human."

"You're lucky she wasn't a sorcerer," I said.

"Perhaps. But there is little time. You must leave at once."

"If you'll come with me."

He shook his head. "I have nowhere to go. They will find you."

I chewed my lip. "There may be a place," I said. "Bide." "Morrolan. Funny-talking Dragonlord. Dragaeran witch. Wielder of Blackwand. Morrolan. Morrolan. ..."

"Who is— Vlad?"

"Himself."

"Where are you? Are you all right? The whole city—"

"I know. I'm in the thick of it, but I'm all right. I request sanctuary, Lord Morrolan. For myself and for my grandfather."

"Your grandfather? What happened?"

"Phoenix Guards tried to burn his shop down. He prevented them from doing so."

"I see."

"Where are you now?"

"The Imperial Palace, but I'll be leaving soon."

"What are you doing there?"

"I was preparing to defend the Empress, if necessary. But the siege was broken."

"Siege?"

"Your Easterners, Vlad"

"Oh. Who's with you?"

"Aliera, Sethra."

"Sethra? That must have made quite a stir."

He chuckled. "I wish you could have seen it. What about you? Is everything all right?"

"Yes, as far as the rebellion goes, but I've got Jhereg troubles. That's why I need sanctuary."

"I seem to recall another Jhereg—"

"Yeah, me, too. But we're in a hurry, Morrolan. There may be some goldcloaks coming back, and—"

"Very well, Vlad. You revive sanctuary for at least seventeen days. Probably forever. And your grandfather as well, of course. I'll inform Teldra."

"Thanks. See you soon."

I turned to Noish-pa and said, "It's settled. We can stay at Castle Black." He frowned. "What is that?"

"A floating castle, Noish-pa. It's really quite comfortable. You'll like Morrolan, He—"

"He is an elf?"

"Yes, but—"

"No. I will remain here"

I smiled. "Very well. I know I can't make you leave "

"Good."

I went over and sat down in one of his chairs. He frowned and said, "Vladimir, you should go now."

"No."

"What?"

"If you stay, so do I. You can't make me leave, either."

"They will return in force."

"Indeed. And with sorcerers. But I know some tricks."

"Vladimir—"

"Both of us or neither, Noish-pa."

He looked me in the eye, then a bit of a smile came to his face. "Very well Vladimir. Bring me to the elf castle."

"Be prepared to be sick, Noish-pa."

"Why?"

"Teleport spells do that to humans. I don't know why."

"All right, then." He picked up Ambrus, his familiar, and took one last glance around the shop. "Let us leave at once, then."

I put one arm around my grandfather's shoulders and concentrated on the courtyard of Castle Black. When the image was clear, I drew on the power, shaped it, and felt the familiar twist in my bowels. South Adrilankha vanished, and the walls of the courtyard appeared in reality to match the picture in my mind.

Noish-pa looked queasy, but otherwise all right. I watched his face as he slowly recovered, even more slowly than I did, and became aware of the size of the courtyard, of the ground below us, and then of the symbols on the walls and the huge double doors some forty paces in front of us.

"How can this elf know the Art?" he asked.

"He's very unusual for a Dragaeran," I said.

When he was able to, we walked together up to the doors, which opened before us. Noish-pa looked at me but didn't comment. Lady Teldra gave us a courtesy and said, "Lord Vladimir, we are so relieved that you are safe, and delighted that you will be staying with us. And you, sir, your grandson has spoken so much and so highly of you that we were nearly afraid to hope for the honor of your presence here someday. We are delighted that you have come, though sorry for the hardship that forced the journey on you. Please be welcome. I am Teldra."

She is, after all, of the House of the Issola.

He stared at her, his mouth opening and closing, and then his face lit up in a big grin and he said, "I like you," and, for the first time, I think I saw Lady Teldra actually touched.

She showed us in. "The Lord Morrolan requested that you await him in the library," she said. "If you would follow me?"

Noish-pa seemed awed by the display of Castle Black as we made our way down the marble halls and up the wide stairways. Ambrus looked around as well, as if he were memorizing an escape route. I could almost see Noish-pa making notes to himself to study various of the sculpture paintings, and psiprints we passed. Lady Teldra would have been willing to stop and let him examine them then, and would gladly have told all their histories and given brief biographies of the artists, but I badly wanted to sit down.

Morrolan's library is actually quite a complex of rooms so it was helpful to have her show us which one. It says something either about him or about Dragaerans in general that his books were arranged neither by subject nor title, but, primarily, by the House of the author. We awaited him in the largest room, which was, quite naturally, filled with books written by Dragonlords.

We had hardly gotten seated, and Lady Teldra was just pouring the wine, when he entered. We both stood and bowed, but he motioned us to sit. He bowed deeply to my grandfather, rising in time for Loiosh to land on his shoulder. Rocza flew over to Ambrus, who hissed at her and then allowed herself to be licked, which startled me'

We all sat down again, and Lady Teldra poured us all wine, giving the first glass to my grandfather. I said "On behalf of my grandfather, Morrolan, thank you. We—"

"Never mind that," he said. "Of course you're welcome here as long as you want to stay but do you know about Cawti." I stopped with the glass halfway to my lips carefully set it down, and said, "Tell me." "She's been arrested again. This time under direct orders from the Empress. The charge is treason against the empire. Vlad she's facing execution."

I felt my grandfather's eyes on me, but I didn't look at him. I said, "Has a trial been set?"

"No. Zerika says she's going to wait until the troubles are over."

"Troubles? Was that her word for it?"

"Yes."

"I see. Has Norathar done anything?"

"Not yet. She's been directing troops. She says—"

"Directing troops? In the city?"

"No, she's putting together an invasion force for Greenaere."

"Oh. That's a relief, anyway."

"Why?"

I shook my head. It would be too hard to explain. "How much have you heard about what's going on?"

He shrugged. "Disorders. I was at the Imperial Palace during the second attack, and throughout the siege, so I mostly know about activities there, but I heard at least some of the rest. Zerika says things should be under control by tomorrow morning."

"Under control," I repeated. I looked at Noish-pa, but this time he was looking away." "Yes" continued Morrolan. "Sethra has established order in—"

"Sethra! Lavode?"

"Sethra the Younger."

"How did she end up in command?"

"The brigadier of the Phoenix Guards resigned yesterday over some dispute with the Empress. I don't know the details."

"Maybe he didn't like the idea of slaughtering thousands of helpless Easterners."

"Helpless? Vlad, weren't you listening? There were attacks on the Imperial Palace. They laid siege to it. They actually threatened the Empress—"

"Oh, come now. She could have teleported out anytime she wanted to."

"That isn't the point, Vlad. Threatening the sanctity of-"

"Can we change the subject?"

"You asked," he said stiffly.

"Yeah. Sorry." Loiosh flew back to my shoulder and nuzzled my ear. I said, "What about the war?"

"Are you sure you want to hear about it?"

"I'm trying to figure out how to get Cawti out of there. The first thing I need to know is what's going on with the Empress, so I can decide how to try to influence her. Does that make sense?"

He seemed startled; I guess that sort of thinking wasn't what he expected of me. Then he said, "Very well. The Empire is still trying to put together an invasion fleet to attack the Greenaere and Elde alliance"

"Trying?"

He looked grim. "A task force sailing from Adrilankha Northport in preparation for an attack on Greenaere was itself attacked by several alliance warships, and three of them were sunk. I don't know how big they were, or how many were lost, or—why are you smiling?"

Why was I smiling?

I took a sip of wine without tasting it. I had never particularly cared about the Empire one way or the other; that is, it was there, I lived in it and ignored it. Even the onset of war hadn't inspired any particular feelings in the sense of who I hoped would win the conflict. But now, I realized, I wanted the Empire to be hurt. Very much I wanted them to be hurt. I would love it if the Empire was tumbled, inconceivable as that was. I wanted to see the Ob rolling, broken, on the ground. I wanted to see the mighty Palace, with all its pillars of silver, and its walls cut of black marble, rooms in which ten Eastern families could live, burned to the ground.

I remembered only flashes of the last two days in South Adrilankha, but there were looks on faces that I knew I'd remember as long as I lived, and if the only way to ease the pain was the destruction of the Empire, then that's what I wanted. In a life governed by hatreds, this hatred was a new one. Maybe it was what Cawti had felt all along. Maybe now I could understand her.

I tossed aside dreams of the Empire fallen; such dreams would not win my wife's release. In fact, the best would be if I could find a way to...

If I could ...

"Nothing," I said. "I think I know how to save Cawti, though."

My grandfather looked at me sharply. Morrolan said, "Oh?"

"Do you think you'd be willing to help? I will also need Aliera's help, and, I think, Sethra's. And possibly Daymar's."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I'll explain when we're all together. Say, this evening-I should warn you, it will be dangerous."

He me a look of contempt. I'd only said it to annoy him anywav. "I will help you," said Morrolan.

"Thank you" I said.

My grandfather spoke for the first time. He said, "Vladimir, will you travel again through the fairy-land?" "Excuse me?"

"Travel through the fairy-land, the way we did to come here."

"Oh Yes, I expect so."

He nodded thoughtfully and spoke to Morrolan. "I see that you practice the Art."

"Yes," said Morrolan. "I am a witch."

"Have you devices I might use? All of mine are lost."

"Certainly," said Morrolan. "I'll have Teldra bring you to my workshop."

"Thank you," said my grandfather.

Morrolan nodded and said, "Aliera is here. Shall I make contact with Sethra and Daymar?"

"Yes," I said. "Let's get started."

A few minutes later he reported that everyone would be assembled for dinner that evening, which gave me several hours to kill. I realized that I was desperately tired and asked Lady Teldra to show me to a room. I gave my grandfather a kiss, bowed to Morrolan, and stumbled to the chambers I'd been assigned.

Before I fell asleep, I got hold of Kragar and said, "What's the news from Jhereg center?"

"You are, Vlad."

"Do tell."

"Three more offers, all refused. Whether they'd have been refused if anyone knew where you were, I don't know."

"Okay. Do you have the information I wanted?"

"Yes, indeed. And someone knows I'm collecting it. "

"Oh"

"I was offered twenty thousand to convince you to collect it in person."

"Twenty thousand? Why didn't you take it?"

"I didn't think I could talk you into coming for it without getting you suspicious."

"Hmmm. You're probably right. Can you send it by messenger to Castle Black?"

"Easy."

"Good. Any, um, disturbances in the area?"

"Not to speak of. Everything pretty much passed us by. We were lucky. "

"Yes," I said. Lucky. Images came bubbling up like Teckla to a feast, but I shoved them back down. No, now was not the time for thinking about that. Maybe there'd never be a time for thinking about that, but now I was tired.

"How are things on your end?" said Kragar.

"Working their way toward resolution."

"Good. Keep me informed."

"I will. Have the messenger ask them to wake me when he gets here."

"Okay. See you later, Vlad."

"Don't count on it, Kragar." Before he could ask what I meant by that, I was asleep.

Kragar's messenger was too quick for me to get enough sleep, but the two or so hours I got, along with the klava supplied by Lady Teldra when she woke me, put me in good enough shape for the moment. I sat up in bed, sipped klava, and studied the sheaf of documents giving all the significant details of Boralinoi's life and personal habits. He was another of the Council members who got there by being in the right place when Zerika returned with the Orb ending the Interregnum. He was considered good at arranging compromises between rivals, but he was not, himself, a compromiser. He'd done a few very nasty things to secure his position, and since then his reputation ha protected him. There had been no known attempts on his life, and his habits didn't indicate that he was terribly worrjed about such things. On the other hand, he knew I was after him, so it could be tough.

On yet a third hand, he had a mistress, so it could be pretty easy. Given a couple of weeks to set it up, it should be no problem. But, of course, I didn't have a couple of weeks to set it up. I wouldn't have an Organization in a couple of weeks. Still, it might be possible to do it more quickly. I could do what they'd done to me, set up outside his mistress's flat and wait for him to emerge. Not very professional, not the kind of sure thing I liked, but it might work.

I shook my head. The business with Cawti was more urgent, but I had a handle on that. It bothered me that it might not get Cawti released even if it worked, and it bothered me that if things went bad, the business with Boralinoi would remain unfinished. And I owed that son of a bitch one. I considered the matter and kept considering it as I dressed, then put it out of my mind. One thing at a time.

The front dining room, with its huge glass windows overlooking the courtyard, blackwood chairs and table, and hanging brass lamps, was just big enough for Morrolan, Aliera, Sethra, Daymar, Noish-pa, and me. Daymar was on his best behavior; that is, he sat in his chair, between Morrolan and Sethra, instead of floating cross-legged as was his wont. My grandfather was clearly uncomfortable; I doubt he had been so close to so many Dragaerans ever in his life, but he did his best to pretend he was at ease. When he tasted the Bazian pepper stew, he smiled m amazement and no longer had to pretend. Morrolan smiled at him. "Your grandson gave my cook the recipe," he said.

"I hope he left nothing out," said Noish-pa.

Aliera nibbled daintily and said, "What's the plan, then? My cousin"-she indicated Morrolan, perhaps for Noish-pas benefit-"said it would be exciting."

"Yes," I said. "We're going to end the war."

"That will be pleasant," said Daymar "You aren't in it, I'm afraid." "Oh?"

"Except, of course, for getting us there."

"Where?"

"Greenaere."

"You wish to journey to Greenaere?" said Morrolan "Explain."

"The Phoenix Stones prevent psionic communication and they prevent sorcery. Daymar was able to temporarily punch through the one, and I suspect that with Sethra's help he could punch through the other long enough to get us in. Perhaps even to get us out again after."

"After what?"

"After we have forced a truce on them."

"How?"

"Leave that to me. Your job is to keep me alive long enough to get the truce into our hands."

There was considerable silence at this point, then Morrolan said, "Several things need to be discussed, I think "

"Goon."

"In the first place, I do not perform assassinations."

"No problem, I do. If you want to kill someone, you are welcome to challenge him to single combat, if that somehow pleases you more."

"Then you admit you are going to assassinate this King?"

"No. But neither do I deny it."

"Hmmm. In the second place, we cannot be sure Day-mar and Sethra can succeed. The Empire has tried several times to break through and failed. What makes you think this time we can succeed?"

"Several things," I said. "First, we now know about the Phoenix Stones. Second, we know that Daymar has succeeded once already, in a limited way. Third, we have Sethra Lavode." She smiled and dipped her head by way of acknowledgment.

"It sounds chancy," said Morrolan.

I said, "Sethra?"

"It's worth a try," she said. "Just how well do you know Greenaere?"

"I have a spot marked well enough to teleport to, if that's what you mean."

"I don't know if that will be good enough. We're going to need a solid, detailed image of the place, memories of all five senses."

"Hmmm. I've got an idea for that. Let me think about it."

"Very well," said Sethra.

I said, "What next?"

Morrolan spoke up again. "How do you know that, if we succeed, the Empire will, in fact, release Cawti?"

I shrugged. "I don't. I'm working on that. I have some ideas. If they don't pan out, perhaps we'll scrap the whole plan. I'll know by noon tomorrow."

"It seems to me," said Morrolan, "that you are doing a great deal of hoping here. You hope we will be able to break through the Phoenix Stones. You hope you can force a treaty out of Greenaere. You hope we will be able to escape again. You hope the Empress will be sufficiently grateful to you to free Cawti."

"You've expressed it quite well."

I waited for about two breaths, then: "Count me in," said Morrolan.

"Sounds like fun," said Aliera.

Sethra nodded and Daymar shrugged. Noish-pa looked at me steadily for a moment, then resumed eating. I wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps he was remembering how I'd said I hated Dragaerans, and now, when I was in trouble, whom did I go running to for help? A good point, that. I'd known them a long time, and we'd been through so much together. I just never thought of them as Dragaerans; they were friends. How could I—

"When are we going to do it?" said Morrolan.

I asked Sethra, "How much time will you and Daymar need to prepare?"

"At least until tomorrow. We won't know until we start looking at the problem."

"All right. Tentatively, tomorrow afternoon. If you aren't ready by then, we'll see. In the meantime, I to run home and get somebody."

"Who?"

"You'll meet him. He's a drummer."

"From Greenaere?" said Sethra.

"Yep."

"Think he'll help?"

"If he's a spy, which I think is possible, he'll be glad to. If he isn't, he might not."

"If he's a spy—"

"It won't matter for what I'm trying to do."

"Very well, then," said Morrolan, and called for dessert, which involved fresh berries of some kind and a sweet cream sauce. It arrived, and I ate it, but I don't remember how it tasted. After dinner I made sure my grandfather was settled in as well as possible, studied Kragar's notes a bit more, then walked out to the courtyard of Castle Black.

"Loiosh, you and Rocza stay real alert.",

"I know, boss. I'm not happy about this at all. They were waiting for you once— "

"1 know. How's your lady doing?"

Rocza shifted on my right shoulder and nuzzled me a little. I got my mind fixed on a place across the street from my flat and teleported there. Loiosh and Rocza left my shoulder as we arrived and buzzed about.

"No one here, boss."

"My compliments to Rocza. She's learning the business, I think."

"She's got a good teacher. You okay?"

"I didn't lose my dinner, anyway. Give me a minute and stay alert."

"Check. "

When I felt better I walked up to the flat. I was in luck: Aibynn was there, and there were no assassins.

"Hey, how you doing?"

"Not bad. How'd you like to help me out?"

"Doing what?"

"Ending the war."

"That sounds fine. What do I have to do?"

"Come with me, and let someone read your mind while you remember everything you can about that spot on Greenaere where we met."

"I could do that."

"You'll have to take your pendant off" while you do it."

"What? Oh, this?" He fingered the Phoenix Stone around his neck, then shrugged. "That's fine."

"Good. Come with me."

"Just a minute."

He collected his drum and stood next to me. I took a look around the flat, wondering if I'd ever see it again, then we teleported right from there, because I still didn't feel very safe.

Aibynn stared around Castle Black in amazement. "Where are we?"

"The home of Morrolan e'Drien, House of the Dragon."

"Nice place."

"Yeah."

Lady Teldra greeted him like an old friend; he grinned from ear to ear. I went back up to the library and performed introductions. He was pleasant, and either didn't know or didn't care who Sethra Lavode was, not to mention Aliera and Morrolan. They were polite to him, and then Lady Teldra showed him to a room. I found my own room and slept for about fourteen hours.

Late the next morning I saw Morrolan in his workshop, where he was showing Noish-pa around. I found myself fascinated by the door that led to the tower that held the windows. Morrolan caught me staring at it, but asked no questions. Instead he mentioned something else: "I've had an official emissary from House Jhereg."

"Oh?"

"I've been asked to surrender you."

"Ah. Are you going to?"

He snorted. "What did you do to them, Vlad?"

"Actually, nothing. It's what they think I'm going to do."

"What is that?"

"Kill someone important."

"Are you?"

"Only if we escape Greenaere successfully. First things first, you know."

"Of course. What about the Empire?"

"I'm going to see to that in a few moments."

"Can I help?"

"Perhaps. Can you arrange for the Empress to see me?"

"Certainly. When?"

"Now."

He stared at me and his mouth worked for a moment. Then he concentrated, and was silent for about two minutes. It was interesting trying to piece together the conversation from the expressions that crossed Morrolan's face. He shook his head twice, shrugged once, and once his face twisted up into an expression I couldn't fathom. At last he opened his eyes and said, "She is expecting you."

"Excellent. Can you arrange a teleport?"

"In the courtyard."

"Thank you."

I took a last look at the door to the tower, smiled at Noish-pa, who was already absorbed in work of some sort, and made the long hike, down and around and up an through to the library. I gave Lady Teldra a big smile which left her a bit puzzled, I think, then I went out into the courtyard where one of Morrolan's sorcerers greeted me respectfully and sent me to the square outside the Imperial Palace that is reserved for those arriving via teleportation.

My stomach had settled down by the time I entered the Palace proper, but I hardly noticed it in any case, my mind was racing so. I was led through hallways and past terraces and inconspicuous guard locations, and at last out into the throne room, with its massive seventeen-sided dome and windows of colored glass. As I approached, I noticed Count Soffta among the courtiers, and I gave him a big smile. His brows came together, but other than that he betrayed no expression.

I bowed to Her Majesty, my heart thumping with excitement, my brain pounding with ideas. "I greet you, Baronet Taltos." "And I, you, Your Majesty. Care to take a walk?" Her eyes widened, and that time I heard the courtiers gasp But she said "Very well. Come with me." And she led the way behind her throne.

The walls were still white and featureless, but this time in my excitement, I nearly outpaced her. For some reason, I no longer had such awe of her as I'd had before; whether it was the state of my mind, or the events of the past few days, or a combination, I don't know.

She said." Are you here to plead for your wife, or to reprimand your Empress for her actions among the Easterners?"

"Both, Your Majesty."

"Neither will move me, Baronet. I'm sorry, because in all honesty I like you. But to threaten the Empire is unforgivable, which is my only answer to both entreaties."

"Your Majesty, I have, on the one hand, a proposal, and, on the other, information."

She glanced sideways at me, appearing both amused and curious. "Proceed," she said.

"Allow me, Your Majesty, to begin with some questions. May I?"

"You may."

"Do you know why the citizens rebelled?"

"There were many reasons, Baronet. The press gangs a necessary evil in time of war. The measures, the justified measures, taken against the irresponsible violence in which they engaged. Certain regrettable conditions under which they live."

"Yes," I said. "Let us consider the irresponsible violence. Would the massacres—and I use the word advisedly, Your Majesty, for that's what they were—would the massacres have been necessary had the citizens not engaged in what you called the 'irresponsible violence'?"

She considered. "Probably not," she said.

"Well, then, suppose it was not the citizens who destroyed the watchstation in South Adrilankha, and I suspect committed several similar acts, but was instead a certain Jhereg, who wanted these Easterners suppressed."

She stopped in her tracks and stared at me. "You have evidence of this?"

"His own words that he'd done it."

"Will you swear to this?"

"Under the Orb."

She resumed walking. "I see." I gave her time to consider things further. After a bit she said, "Are you aware that, if you do so swear, by the law, you must do so publicly?"

"Yes."

"So the Organiza—excuse me—your friends and your House will know that you have betrayed this person?"

"Yes."

"And you are prepared to do so?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"When we return to the throne room, Your Majesty.

"Very well. I must say that, moving as this is, and as angry it makes me, it does not free your wife from the responsibility for leading rebellion." "That, Your Majesty, is where my proposal fits in." "Let's' hear it, then." "Your Majesty, I will, personally, bring about a peace with Elde and Greenaere, at no cost to the Empire and at no risk to you, if you will release my wife."

Once more, she stopped and stared at me. She resumed walking. "What makes you think you can do this?"

"I have an idea of what they want, and why they began the war, and I think I can fix it."

"Tell me."

"No, Your Majesty."

And again the sidelong look, followed by a low laugh. "Can you convince her to stop stirring up trouble in South Adrilankha, not to mention the rest of the city, or the rest of country?"

"Probably not," I said.

She nodded and chewed on her lower lip—a most non-Imperial gesture. Then she said, "Very well, my lord Jhereg. Yes, if you can do what you say, I will release your wife."

"And her friends?"

She shrugged. "I can hardly release one without releasing them all. Yes, if you can publicly swear, under the Orb, that the violence was deliberately caused by a Jhereg, and if you personally conclude a peace with Greenaere and Elde Island that costs us nothing, I will release your wife and her associates." "Good. Thank you, Your Majesty."

She stopped yet a third time and touched my shoulder. Above her, the Orb went white. She saw me looking at it and said, "What I am saying now is not being remembered"

"Oh."

Lord Taltos, do you know the Organization will kill you if you betray them?"

"Perhaps," I said. "They will certainly try."

She shook her head. The Orb resumed its pinkish hue and the Empress led the way back to the throne room where she announced a declaration under the Orb.

The court watched. The Orb floated over my head, and prepared, however it did so, to determine truth or false hood. I phrased my accusation very carefully, so there could be no question of the truth, or of the guilt. All the time I spoke, my eyes were on Count Soffta, who was trying very hard to keep any expression from his face.

And I was smiling.

I returned to Castle Black and considered consequences.

My life was worth rather less than the small change in my purse, and if things went as I more than half expected them to, I would only have the satisfaction of cheating the Organization of the pleasure of killing me themselves. I indulged myself in a few minutes of soul-searching as I returned to my chambers to rest for a while.

This was nothing like the fatalism that comes upon certain Lyorn who take too long a view of life, and it wasn't really the suicidal madness that had taken me for a short time after I'd been broken under torture. It was more that things had lined themselves up so that I had fewer and fewer options, so the one remaining had to be the right thing to do.

Which brought up the next question: When had I suddenly become enamored of doing the right thing, rather than the practical thing? Was it on the streets of South Adrilankha? Was it in my grandfather's shop, when he said, so simply and quietly, that what I did was wrong?

Was it when I finally realized, once and for all, that the woman I'd married was gone forever, and that, whoever she had become, she had no use for me as I was? Or was it that I was finally faced with a problem that couldn't be solved by killing the right person; could only be solved, in fact, by performing a service to the Empire that I hated? That, I suddenly realized, was what had happened to Cawti: She had transferred her hate from Dragaerans to the Empire. There are fools who pretend that one can get through life without hating, or that the emotion itself js somehow wrong, but I've never had that problem. But sometimes your own hate can fool you as much as your own love, with results that are just as disastrous. It had been silly, at best, to think that I hated Dragaerans when all of my close friends were of the race. Cawti's hatred of the Empire, which I now shared in my own way, was perhaps more reasonable, but ultimately frustrating. Noish-pa was right: Hatred is inevitable; allowing it to control your actions is foolish.

I didn't know where that left me now, and I admitted, as I stared at the ceiling and hid my thoughts from Loiosh, that none of it mattered, anyway. By surrendering to "right" as opposed to "practical," I had changed irrevocably. But once you allow yourself to recognize necessity, you find two things: One, you find your options so restricted that the only course of action is obvious, and, two, that a great sense of freedom comes with the decision.

By this time tomorrow, Vlad Taltos, Jhereg and assassin, would be dead, one way or the other. I made certain all of my documents were correct and decided that the time allotted for self-indulgent soul-searching had expired.

But I fervently hoped that I would have a chance to give my Demon Goddess a piece of my mind before all was said and done.

It was early afternoon when I was summoned to Morrolan's lower workshop, the place set aside for his exponents with sorcery. I was much calmer, and beginning to be nervous. Make that frightened.

I picked up Aibynn on the way. Sethra, Daymar, and Morrolan were there, staring at the black stone and speaking together. They looked up when I came in and Sethra said, "Here, Vlad, catch," and tossed me the stone. "Now, speak to me psionically." I attempted to do so, and it was like it was back on the island; no one was home. I shrugged. "Now," she said, "watch." She gestured with one hand, and my rapier began rising out of its sheath. She stopped, it slid back in. "Well?" I said.

"The stone has no effect on sorcery whatsoever." "All right. But then—"

She held up a hand. "Now, if you please, set Spell-breaker spinning."

"Eh? All right." I let the chain fall into my left hand, wondering what she was after. It was very cool in my hand, and alive like a Morganti weapon was alive, yet different. I did as she'd said. When it was going good, spinning between Sethra and me, she gestured again. This time, nothing happened, except perhaps the faintest tingling running up my arm.

"Well?" I said. "We knew Spellbreaker interfered with sorcery. That's why I gave it the name."

"Yes. And so does whatever else is on the island. Does the similarity strike you?"

"Yes. What's your point?"

"There is more to that chain than I know," she said. "But I think we are able to determine one thing now. It is not, in fact, made of gold. It is made of gold Phoenix stone."

"Is that what you call it?" put in Aibynn, who'd been so quiet I'd forgotten he was there.

"What do you call it?" asked Morrolan, in all innocence.

"In my land," said Aibynn, "we call it a rock."

I said hastily, "I'm not really surprised that breaker isn't just gold; I've never seen gold as hard as the links of this chain."

"Yes. Black disables psionic activity, gold prevents the working of sorcery."

I studied Spellbreaker. "It certainly looks like metal," I said. "And feels like it."

"As I said, there's more to that chain than I understand."

"Well, all right. Now, do you know how to use this information to get past it to the island?"

"Possibly. Set Spellbreaker spinning again." I did so. She looked at Daymar, nodded, and gestured. Once again, the sword began to rise from its sheath, only very slowly. She stopped, it returned.

"Looks good," I said. "How?"

"How did Aliera break through the wall the last time you were on the island?"

"Pre-Empire sorcery," I said.

"Yes."

"Can you control it well enough to teleport with it? I'd understood such fine control was impossible, which is why the Orb was invented in the first place."

"Yes and no," said Sethra. "I can create a disturbance in the field set up by the Phoenix Stone, which allows Daymar to direct his energy through the gold stone, ignoring the black, which allows me to channel mine through the black, ignoring the gold. It isn't easy," she added.

"It is similar," added Morrolan, "to the way you and Loiosh communicate. It isn't exactly psionically, it's more—"

"Never mind the details," I said, "as long as it works."

"It should," said Sethra. "As long as we can get a good enough image of the place."

She looked at Aibynn. He stared back, looking innocent.

"All right," I said. "Sethra, what about getting us

"Daymar will have to try to break through to you."

"All right, when?"

"Let's talk about it.

We decided that they would give us a couple of hours, and after that, Daymar would attempt to reach me psionically every half hour until we said we were ready to return.

Sethra said, "You know, don't you, that it is much more difficult to teleport something to you than from you?"

"Yeah," I said. "But I trust you."

"As you say."

"Then we can proceed."

"Yes," she said. "Are you ready?"

"I was bora ready."

"Then let us call Aliera and be about it."

Aliera arrived almost at once. She was wearing the black and silver battle garb of a Dragonlord. She was barely taller than I, which was quite short for a Dragaeran. It used to bother her, I guess, since she was in the habit of wearing long gowns and levitating rather than walking, but she had recently stopped doing this. I thought that I'd ask her why at some future date, then realized there probably wouldn't be some future date for me. I shivered. At her side was a shortsword called Pathfinder, which was one of the Seventeen Great Weapons, though I knew little about it beyond that. That it was Morganti was sufficient information for most people, myself included.

Morrolan, as always, wore black. At his side was Black-wand, about which the less said the better. Sethra had us stand in a triangle, with me at the V, Morrolan in front of me to the right, Aliera in front to my left. Loiosh was on my right shoulder, Rocza on my left. Rocza seemed a bit jumpy; Loiosh as cool as steel. Sethra said, "Put an arm on Morrolan's shoulder, and one on—hello, Master Taltos."

I looked up and saw my grandfather ambling his way toward me. For a moment I was afraid he was going to insist on coming along, but he only wanted to slip an amulet over my head and kiss my cheek.

"What is it?"

"It should prevent you from feeling discomfort while you journey in the elflands."

It took me a moment to translate that, then I said, "You mean I won't get sick anymore when I teleport? Noish-pa, my life is complete."

"No," he said. "It is not complete until you have given me a great-grandchild. Don't forget that."

I looked into his eyes for just a moment, then kissed his cheek. "I won't." He stepped back until he was next to Aibynn, who was next to Daymar and Sethra. I put my hands on Aliera's and Morrolan's shoulders and said, "All right, Sethra and Daymar. Cast off."

"Concentrate on the location, Aibynn. Do you have one in mind?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Concentrate on it, and open your mind to me—oh, take that thing off."

"Oh, yeah. Okay."

"Now, think about it. Remember every detail you can, what it feels like—excellent. You're good at this. I think we're ready, Vlad."

"Do it, then," I said, hoping Aibynn wasn't sending us back into a cell, or into the sea or something. I wished I could trust him a little more. I felt Daymar's powerful psychic presence, as if he were tiptoeing around in my forebrain. Then there was what I can only describe as a psychic twist. Imagine, if you will, that your thoughts are neatly rolling waves in a pond, and someone comes along and throws a boulder into the middle of it. I could no longer form coherent thoughts, and my perceptions became hopelessly muddled. I remember feeling as if Castle were loose inside my head, and I was desperately trying to tie it down against a storm, while simultaneously realizing how absurd that was.

More went on then, a great deal more, but there is no way I can reconstruct it, or even remember most of the images the spell created. The next thing I can recall clearly, and I have no idea how long we stood there before it happened, was being covered in a bright blue light that took us all in and then resolved itself to a spear of light that went off in some impossible direction, taking us with it.

There was no nausea. There wasn't even any sensation of movement. We stood in a grove below a tree from which I'd fallen not many days before. I wanted to open a bottle of wine, more for Noish-pa's amulet having worked than the success of the teleport spell, but I had none handy in any case.

Morrolan said, "What's the plan, Vlad?"

Plan? I was supposed to have a plan? "Follow me," I said, and, "Loiosh, do you remember the way?"

"I think so, boss. Bear a little to the left."

We set off. It was oddly peaceful walking through the woods, I guess because of the lack of background psychic activity, the kind that's always there but you never notice. Soon I forgot that anyone was with me except Loiosh, whom I could feel as a cool hand on the brow of my thoughts, and way in the background, faint echoes of Rocza, who was just recovering from panic induced by the teleport. I realized for the first time how strange this must be for her, and how hard it was for her to appear calm in the face of these strange sorceries, for which none of her life had prepared her. Loiosh had chosen well. "Thanks, boss. "

"Think nothing of it, Loiosh. "

"Now, what is it you've been hiding from me all day?"

"wait and see."

We came to the place where I'd fought my first four pursuers, and I didn't take the time to see if there any signs of the struggle. Loiosh led me; I led Morrolan and Aliera, and in about an hour and a half we were beside the village. It was early evening. There was no in sight.

"Where is everybody, boss?"

"Probably on ships preparing to attack the Dragaeran navy."

"Oh."

"Let's eat," I said aloud, and we took out the food that had been packed for us by Morrolan's cook. I had dried winneasaurous and some good bread. I took my time eating, so it was nearly full dark by the time we were done.

"Now what?" said Morrolan.

I looked at their dim faces, Morrolan e'Drien and Aliera e'Kieron, watching me patiently and expectantly. I said, "Now I lead us to the place that passes for a palace and negotiate as appropriate, and get out."

"In other words," said Aliera, "we're just going to improvise."

"You got it."

"Good plan," said Morrolan dryly.

"Thanks. It's one of my best."

I led the way, with Morrolan and Aliera behind me. Quite a sight we must have looked as we walked up the wide shallow steps to the small, pillared building that housed the government of Greenaere.

We flung the door open in front of two sleepy-looking guards, neither of them in uniform, both holding the short, feathered spears I remembered too well. They stopped looking sleepy almost at once. The three of us could have put the two of them down without working up a sweat, but I held my arm up for them to wait.

The guards stared at us. We stared back. I said, "Take me to your—"

"Who are you?" croaked one of them at last.

"Unofficial envoys from the Dragaeran Empire We wish to open negotiations with—" "I know you," said the other. "You're the one who—" "Now, now," I said. "The past is past," and I smiled into his face. Behind me, I felt the troops prepare for battle. There is something reassuring about having Morrolan with Blackwand and Aliera with Pathfinder ready to jump to your defense. The guards looked very nervous-not without reason. "We would like to see the King," I said. There was no one else in sight down the narrow corridor; they really hadn't considered the possibility of an attack.

"I— I'll see if he, that is, I'll find out—" "Excellent. Do that."

He swallowed and backed up a couple of steps. I followed, Morrolan and Aliera behind me, forcing the other guard backward, too. "No, you wait here." "Not a chance," I said cheerfully. He stopped. "I can't let you past." "You can't stop us," I said reasonably. "I'll raise the alarm."

"Do so."

He turned and yelled, "Help! Invaders!" at the top of his lungs. For some reason, I still didn't want to cut them down, so I just led us past them. As we went by I patted the one who'd recognized me on the shoulder. They both looked rather pitiful, and the other one actually drew steel as we went by. Morrolan and Aliera drew as well then, and I heard the fellow make sounds of awe under his breath. Yes it still possible to feel a Morganti weapon here on the island, Phoenix Stone notwithstanding. I expected Morrolan was noting that to study when he got back.

"This way" I said and directed us into the throne room.

There were two more guards, a pale man with an odd white streak in his dark hair and a hook-nosed woman. They had apparently heard the warnings, because they stood with their spears out and pointed at us. To the right of the throne was an old woman with grey hair and deep eyes, and on the left were two men. One seemed quite old and rather unkempt. The other was the bushy-browed interrogator I knew so well. He was armed only with a knife at his belt, the old man was unarmed. The King, who looked like he couldn't be more than two or three hundred (in a human that would be eighteen or nineteen, I suppose), stared at us in a mixture of fear and amazement. I recognized him, too; he'd been walking next to the King I'd assassinated, just as I'd suspected then. How long ago was that? It felt like years.

I led us up to the throne, stopping just out of range of those spears, and said, "Your Majesty King Corcor'n, we wish you a pleasant evening. Um, excuse me, is 'Your Majesty' the proper form of address?"

He swallowed twice and said, "It will do."

I said, "My name is Vladimir Taltos. My friends are called Morrolan e'Drien and Aliera e'Kieron. We've come to discuss peace."

The two guards with the spears looked very unhappy and kept glancing at the two Great Weapons. Well, hardly surprising. I said, "Perhaps, my friends, we should sheathe our weapons." They did so.

The King said, in a raspy whisper, "How did you get here?"

"Sorcery, Your Majesty."

"But-"

"Oh, yes, I know. We've solved that problem."

"Impossible."

I shrugged. "In that case, we're not here, and you can safely ignore us. I should tell you, Your Majesty, that I came here in order to kill you and as many important advisors and chiefs as we could find. We changed our minds when we saw how poorly protected you were."

"Messengers have gone out," he said. "Troops will be arriving in moments."

"In that case," I said, "it would be well if we had our business concluded before they arrive. Otherwise, well, things could get ugly."

His mouth worked in anger and fear. The grey-haired woman leaned over to him and started to say something. I gave silent orders to Loiosh and Rocza. They left my shoulders and flew to the two guards. As puppets controlled by a single string, the guards winced, began to panic, caught themselves, and held still as the jhereg landed on their shoulders. I was very impressed with the guards; they trembled, but didn't move. I smiled.

The King said, "You assassinated—"

"Yes," I said. "I did. And you will never know the reason. But you have sunk several of our ships, killing hundreds of our citizens. How many lives is a King worth, Your Majesty? We are willing to call the score even if you are."

"He was my father."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry," he said scornfully.

"Yes. I am. For reasons I can no more explain than I can explain why I did it. But what's done is done. Your father was given a good blood price, Your Majesty; the crews of—how many ships? Your Majesty, we want to end it. Can you—?"

At that moment there was the sound of tramping feet. I broke off my speech, but didn't turn around.

"How many, Loiosh?"

"About twenty, boss."

"Aliera, Morrolan, watch them."

"We're already doing it, Vlad," said Morrolan. I think it bothered him to appear to be taking orders from me. Tough. At that moment I heard Daymar's voice in the back of my mind. I let the contact occur and said, "All is well. Check back later." The contact faded.

There were, indeed, a good number of them, but we were between them and the King. Moreover, each of the two guards who stood between us had a poisonous jhereg on his shoulder. I said, "You must decide, Your Majesty. Unless, that is, you would like us to slaughter your troops for you first, and then continue the negotiations?"

"How do you know," he said at last, "that I will hold to an agreement made under these circumstances?"

"I don't," I said. "Furthermore, you are most welcome to break it. If you do, of course, we will be back. Perhaps with a few thousand troops."

He turned to the old woman at his side and they spoke together quietly.

"Loiosh, what are they saying?" "She says Elde has no objection to peace if he can get a guarantee that—"

"Very well," said the King. "I agree. The ships we've sunk will be the indemnity for the damage done to us. We—bide a moment."

He spoke quietly to the two men on the other side of the throne. "Loiosh?"

"I can't hear them, boss."

"All right. The old woman must be the ambassador or something from Elde Island. Perhaps the others are advisors of some sort. "

We waited while they spoke together, then the King nodded and said, "But we require two things. First, assurances that no reprisals will be taken either against us or against our ally. Second, we want the assassin and his accomplice returned to us for punishment."

I turned to glance at Morrolan and Aliera. Aliera was still watching the armed men at the back of the room; Morrolan turned his head toward me and silently mouthed the word "assassin," with a lift to his eyebrows. I smile and turned back to the King.

"As to your first condition," I said, "I give you my word. Isn't that sufficient?"

"No," said the King.'

"You aren't really in much of a position to bargain." "Maybe," he said, apparently beginning to recover now that he had troops handy. "But maybe it isn't all that easy for you to break through here. Maybe you cannot send troops to invade us. Maybe it was only a fluke that allowed the three of you to arrive here this way. Maybe you didn't break through the way you claim you did, but sneaked past our ships in a vessel of your own."

"Maybe," I agreed.

"But do you think we could slip past you in your own waters? And do you want to chance it?"

"If you do not meet the conditions, yes."

"What sort of guarantees do you want?"

"The word of your Empress."

I said, "We are unofficial envoys. I cannot speak for her."

"We will write out a treaty that specifies the conditions. The Empress may sign it and return it to me, or not. We will allow a single small ship, bearing your Empire's standard, to land to return the document. We will cease our attacks for three days, which will give time to sign and return it. I warn you that, during those three days, our preparations for war, and the preparations of our ally, will continue."

"Fair enough," I said. "As to the second condition, it is impossible."

He looked at me, then spoke quietly to his advisors. The one I recognized kept glancing at me. The King

looked up and said, "In that case, you may signal the slaughter to begin, for we will not allow you and your

accomplice to go unpunished."

"Your Majesty, have your scribe prepare the document while I consider this matter. We may be able to work something out."

"Very well." The old man at his left hand, it seemed was the scribe. He left for a moment, and returned with pen, blotter, ink, and parchment, and began writing.

I said, "May I approach you, Your Majesty?"

The two guards in front of him tensed, but he said "Very well."

"Vlad, what are you doing?" asked Morrolan.

"Bide a moment," I said.

I spoke to the King quietly for a few minutes, with the advisor, the emissary, and bushy-brows listening in.

Loiosh said, "Boss, you—"

"Shut up."

"But-"

"Shut up."

The King looked at me closely, then at the advisor, who nodded. Bushy-brows also nodded. The emissary said, "It is no concern of ours, Your Majesty."

The King said, "Very well. So be it," and the scribe continued writing. I backed up. Loiosh and Rocza returned to my shoulders, and the two guards relaxed.

Aliera said, "Vlad, what did you just do?"

"Worked a compromise," I said. "I'll explain when we're back home."

While the scribe was working, I felt Daymar's contact once more. "Five minutes," I told him. "We're almost done."

----- "I'll have Seth—" His pseudo-voice faded away in mid-sentence. The scribe finished, the King signed it. I took it, read it, nodded, rolled it up, and handed it to Morrolan, who at once started unrolling it.

"No," I said. "Read it at home."

"Why?"

"We have to leave now."

And, indeed, at that moment I felt Day mar's presence again. "Okay," I told him. "Take us home."

The spell came on very slowly; so slowly I was afraid for a moment it wasn't going to work. But a reddish glow

began to surround us. It became stronger, and I felt jt begin to grab and take hold, and I felt the beginnings of the disorientation I'd felt before.

It was no difficulty at all to take a step to my left so I was out of range of its effects. I saw Morrolan and Aliera slowly fade, not realizing, yet, that I had been left behind The King was staring in amazement at the evidence that sorcery had invaded his realm. I brought his attention back to me by saying, "So, Your Majesty, just out of curiosity what are the island customs as regards execution of regicides?

They came and took hold of my arms, others took my rapier, my belt dagger, and my cloak, leaving me with only about nine weapons, and those they'd no doubt get to later. The King said, "It has never happened before, so we have no custom. We shall not be cruel."

"Thanks," I said. "I appreciate that."

"I will stand by my agreement, but tell me now: Is it true that Aibynn of Lowporch was not your accomplice?"

"It's true. Until you demanded he be turned over to you, I suspected he was a spy of yours. He helped me, however, so I feel a certain loyalty to him."

"Why did you conceal our agreement from your friends?"

"They wouldn't have allowed it."

"Then perhaps they will try to rescue you."

"I'm sure they will. I think you should get it done quickly, before they have time."

He whispered to the advisor, who nodded and scurried off. "Soon," he said, "we will have enough troops to—"

"To die," I told him. "You don't know what you're dealing with. Have you ever heard of a weapon the Serioli call Magical-Wand-for-Creating-Death-in-the-Form-of-a-Black-Sword? We call it Blackwand, and my friend Morrolan wields it. How about Dagger-Shaped-Bearer-of-Fire-That-Burns-Like-Ice? Sethra Lavode of Dzur Mountain carries that. And then there's Artifact-in-Sword-Form-That-Searches-for-the-True-Path. We call it Pathfinder, and Aliera e'Kieron carries it. Your Majesty, you are making a mistake if you think you can bring in enough troops to keep them from rescuing me if I'm still alive when they get here."

He stared. "Is it your Empress who makes you so loyal that you will sacrifice your life for her? Or is it the Empire?"

"Neither," I said. "They are holding my wife captive, and I hope to win her release."

"Captive? For what?"

"Leading a rebellion

He stared, then began to smile, and then he laughed. "So, you sacrifice your life in the interests of the Empire that is holding your wife captive for trying to overthrow it? And you do this to win her release, so she can try to overthrow it again?"

"Something like that." I didn't think it was all that funny.

"Is that why you murdered my father in the first place?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"Look, Your Majesty, my friends will probably be back as soon as they've figured out what happened. It will take them a while to perform the spell again, but I don't know how long a while that will be. If I'm still alive when they get here, things will get very bloody very fast. And, to be honest, I'm not enjoying standing around very much. Why don't we just get this over with?"

"My dear assassin," said the King. "We intend to execute you. We are not about to just cut you down on the spot."

"Then you're a fool," I snapped.

"Do you really think they can be back so quickly?"

"Probably not, but I have no way of knowing. Right now, they're probably arguing with each other about that very issue. By now they've already decided to do it, and are figuring out if they remember the place well enough. They are not just standing around; I know them."

He nodded. "What about those—those beasts of yours."

"They won't hurt you."

"You think not? Boss, I'm going to kill anyone who tries to touch you."

"You will not."

"How are you going to stop me?"

"Loiosh, this is for Cawti."

"Yeah? So?"

I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, but there's a bit of a problem here, after all. Give me a moment to work this out."

"With those beasts?"

"They, um, they're friends, Your Majesty, and they don't want anyone harming me. Give me a moment to speak with them."

He shook his head. "How does someone like you inspire such loyalty?"

"Damned if I know," I said. "Basic integrity, I guess."

He cocked his head to the side. "You speak lightly, but perhaps it is true. You were hired, were you not? You kill for gold?" I shrugged. "If I paid you enough, would you kill the man who hired you?"

I thought about attempting to assassinate Verra and laughed. "Not likely in this case, I'm afraid."

"A shame," he said. "Because you are nothing more than a tool, and I would rather have the wielder of the tool. Yes, I will kill you, and your poisonous friends as well, if necessary, and I will hold with the bargain I made. But I would much rather know who gave the order, so I can strike him down instead. Come. I offer you your life. Will you tell me?"

Was I supposed to tell him it was a god? Would he believe me? What would he do if he did? It was laughable.

I said, "Sorry, the rules don't permit it. Let's get this done, shall we? Here, hand me that pouch of mine." No one moved. "Oh, come now," I said, "if I'd been planning to kill you, I would have done so when I had all the odds on my side."

The King nodded, and they released me and handed me the pouch, still watching me closely. I removed a couple of powders and set them on the floor.

"Boss, that's not fair."

"Neither is life, chum." "There," I said aloud. "Mix those powders together equally, dissolve them in water. If anyone is bit by one of my friends that will make sure they take no worse effect than a bit of illness. It's what I used while training them. I assume you have someone who doesn't mind a bite or two?"

The King turned to bushy-brows. "Let it be done, then."

My old interrogator nodded and said, "By what means?"

"Send for an axe, and let his head be struck off."

"You know," I said, "that you'll get blood all over the floor."

"It can be cleaned," said the King. Then, "Don't you even care?"

I looked at his young face, and wondered how close he had been to the King his father, whom I had killed. I wondered once more about Verra, who had set all this in motion, and I regretted that I wouldn't have a chance to tell her about it in detail. "What's the difference?" I said. "Sure, I care. When has that changed anything?"

They sent for an axe, and while they were waiting for it about forty more island warriors arrived. Then the axe came, and once more they took my arms. The two holding me glanced nervously at the jhereg, and at the vials of powder on the floor.

"Boss, you can't just let them—"

"Watch me."

I looked at the axe. It was a very ugly thing that was intended for chopping down trees, not people. I hoped they'd be able to strike off my head without too many tries—it isn't as easy as you might think. I winced. "I hope it's sharp," I said.

"It is sharp," said the King.

Bushy-brows took the axe, but just as he turned toward me, before they could put me into the proper position, there began a faint blue glow in the room. It grew brighter as we watched.

"Took too long," I said.

"Prepare to attack," said the King.

I wondered if I should help keep my friends from being slaughtered or try to talk them out of saving me. I still hadn't decided when Aliera was suddenly there, Pathfinder naked in her hand, and, of all people, Aibynn, drum in hand, looking innocent and foolish.

"Attack!" cried the King.

"Wait!" cried Aliera.

Somehow, her voice stopped them, and everyone stood there, the air filled with naked swords and the awful power of the Great Weapon, and as they stood I became aware of someone else, on the floor, right at Aliera's feet. When I saw who it was, bound and gagged, I almost started laughing.

"What is this?" cried the King.

"I am Aliera e'Kieron of the House of the Dragon. I will have words with you, or slaughter. Will you let me speak?"

If they'd been able to send all three of them, or even any two, the issue would never have been in doubt. As it was, with Aliera unable to use sorcery, it could get ugly. If they attacked her, there would be a great deal of death, and I realized that, promise or not, I could not stand there and let them kill her. I still had a few weapons on me, and there was my familiar, as well. "Loiosh, get ready. You and Rocza. If they start—"

"We're ready, boss."

The King was standing now in front of his raised throne, and he looked at me, back at the almost-conflict, and said, "Say what you have to say."

"I offer you a trade," she said, sheathing her blade. "Give us the assassin, and we will give you the man who hired him. What say you?"

The King stood. "Indeed? I'd just been saying ... remove his gag. I want to hear what he has to say for himself."

They stood him up and did this, and you would not want to hear the things he called me. It was positively shameful. I kept my face impassive. The King interrupted him at last and said, "You need not hate the one you paid for evil you were too cowardly to commit yourself. He never gave your name."

He drew himself up as well as he could, with feet and hands still bound, and said, "I deny having anything to do with this or any other assassination."

The King tapped his front teeth with his fingernails and said to Aliera, "How am I to know this is the guilty one?"

She bowed, came forward, and handed him two large yellow parchments that had been getting crushed in her belt. One I recognized from the parchment as the treaty the King had just signed. The other—

"It bears your Imperial seal," he said. "I recognize it. And is signed by Zerika herself." He nodded. "That will do." He turned to Boralinoi. "Why did you want my father killed?" he demanded.

"I did not. It is all a lie. I never—"

"Kill him, "said the King.

"I'll do it, "I said.

"What?" said the King.

"Well," I said, "you heard what he said about me."

The King looked at me, then smiled. "Very well, do it. Give him the axe."

I wanted to laugh aloud, but held it in check. I said "I don't know much about axes. May I use a knife?"

Boralinoi screamed his rage and began tugging furiously at the bonds and cursing me and everything else in sight. I still wanted to laugh. The King nodded. I took a knife from a sheath between my shoulder blades as the forced Boralinoi to his knees.

"Hold his head steady," I said, and two of them came forward to do this. He never stopped screeching his rage until they held his jaws shut.

Sometimes, over the course of my life, I've felt regret for killing someone. Other times, not. I said quite clearly "Sorry, boss, a job's a job," and put my blade neatly into his left eye. He screamed, convulsed, twitched, and died I stared down at his body and was not displeased.

I looked at the King and wondered idly what would happen next. "Let's go boss," said Loiosh. I still hadn't quite accepted that I was going to get out of this. Aliera caught my eye and motioned me to her.

Bushy-brows said, "Your Majesty—"

"Yes," said the King. He turned toward Aliera. "You may go. The others will be staying."

Aliera stared at him. "Is that how you keep your word?"

"I never gave my word," said the King. "Even by implication."

"I'm beginning to take a dislike to you," I said.

He ignored me. "Go. You have your peace. I'll take the assassins."

I thought the idea that, after all of this, I was going to die here after all was rather silly. So did Aliera, apparently, for she drew Pathfinder and the sensation of it filled the room. That was enough of a distraction to give me time to grab Spellbreaker, my cloak, and my rapier swung it around so the sheath went flying in the the direction of the King. One of the guards bravely stepped in front of it and went down clutching at his chest- I'll tell you about my sheath sometime.

I stepped over to Aliera and we stood back-to-back waiting for them to charge. This would have been a perfect time for Sethra and Daymar to have come through. Aliera whispered, "It's going to be a while yet; they're exhausted " "Great," I said. "Attack," said the King. "The door," I said.

Aliera led the way with Pathfinder, followed by Aibvnn while I guarded their back and sides, jabbing wildly with my rapier and swinging just as wildly with my cloak I think the cloak did more damage than my sword but Pathfinder, well, there were screams. Loiosh and Rocza flew into everyone's face and added to the confusion

Let's just say we reached the door and leave 'it at that all right? Once there, there were a few more of them in the hall, but they seemed less inclined to tangle with Pathfinder than the others had been, and then we were outside.

"Now what?" said Aliera.

"Run," I suggested.

"Where?"

"Follow me," said Aibynn.

"Just a moment," said Aliera. She pointed her weapon at the door and muttered something under her breath while making arcane gestures with her free hand. The door collapsed, burying a few guards with it and leaving three of them between the door and us.

They looked at the door, looked at Pathfinder, looked at each other.

"Well?" I said.

"They said nothing. We took off, following pretty much the same route I'd taken before.

"What was that ?" asked Aibynn.

"Pre-Empire sorcery," I said.

"What's that?"

Pretty effective," I said. I looked back. The three guards had decided to help dig their friends out of the rubble of the ruins of the front hall rather than to follow us. Wise.

We kept our speed up until we were rather deep in the forest, then we paused to catch our breath.

"Thanks, Aliera."

"Think nothing of it. I hope I didn't upset a plan."

"You did. That's why I said thank you. How did you acquire Boralinoi?"

"Courtesy of the Empress."

"Does she know he isn't really guilty?"

"He's guilty. Maybe not of killing the King, but he's guilty."

"Is that what the Empress said?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'll be damned. How did you get here so fast?"

"Sethra. Daymar. Aibynn. The Orb."

"The Orb?"

"Yes."

"I see." I turned to Aibynn. "How did you happen to come along?"

He shrugged. "I thought I might be able to help you get out."

"How?"

"Well, I could drum."

I looked at him. "Loiosh, do you trust him?"

"I don't know."

"Yeah. Me neither. This could still be—"

"I know."

Rocza fluttered off my shoulder and landed on Aibynn's. He seemed startled, but handled it gracefully enough.

"She trusts him, boss."

I looked at Aibynn, then looked at Rocza. I sighed "Drum away," I said.

"Let's sit down," said Aibynn.

We did so.

He began to drum.

I studied the white hallway and said, "Either the Imperial Palace or—"

"It's not the Imperial Palace," said Aliera.

Aibynn was still sitting down. He seemed rather drained and tired. He stopped drumming and smiled wanly.

"How," I said, "did this happen?"

"Ask him," said Aliera, indicating Aibynn.

"Well?" I said.

"Sometimes," he said, "when you drum, you . . . it's hard to describe. You reach places. Didn't you feel it?"

"No," I said quickly, just as Aliera was saying "Yes."

"Boss—"

"Well, okay, maybe," I amended. "But why this place?"

"It was what you two were both thinking about." That was true; I'd been thinking how pleasant it would be to give Verra a piece of my mind, but why would Aliera have been thinking about it?

I said, "Why you?" at just the same moment she said it to me. I shrugged, turned to Aibynn, and said, "So all this time, you've really been nothing more than a drummer?"

For the first time, he seemed really surprised. "you mean you didn't believe me?"

"Let's just say I wondered."

Aliera stood up and said, "Let's go."

She seemed to know her way, so I followed her. It was only a short walk, this time, until we reached the doors which were standing open. There was no cat this time I thought I saw something or someone disappear behind the throne, but I wasn't sure. In any case, the goddess was there.

She said, "Hello, Aliera, Vlad."

"Hello, Mother," said Aliera.

Mother?

"Who is your friend, and what brings you here?"

"His name is Aibynn," said Aliera. "He brought us here to save our lives."

Mother?

"I see. Shall I send you back, then, or is there something I can do for you?"

Mother?

"Send us back, Mother. We—"

"Excuse me," I said. "Do you mean that literally?"

"Mean what?" said Aliera.

"You're calling her 'Mother.' "

"Oh, yes. Why? You didn't know?"

"You never told me."

"You never asked."

Vlad."

"Of all the—never mind. Goddess, if you'd be kind enough to send them back, I would have words with you that they don't need to hear."

Aliera stared at me. "I don't like your tone

I started to snap at her, but the goddess said, "It's all right, Aliera. He has some cause."

She looked unhappy, but said, "Very well."

"We can't take long," said the Demon Goddess, "or you'll be late for your appointment."

"Appointment?"

"With the Empress."

"I have an appointment with the Empress?"

"Yes. Morrolan has the message waiting for you, but I may as well tell you myself."

I licked my lips. "In that case," I told Aibynn, "I'll meet you outside the Imperial Wing of the Palace."

"All right," he said, still appearing exhausted.

The goddess said, "You interest me, drummer. Perhaps, sometime, you'd care to play for me."

"Sure."

I could have warned him that accepting work from the Demon Goddess didn't always work out the way one would like, but I thought it might be tactless. Aliera walked up and kissed Verra on the cheek. Verra smiled maternally. It was very strange. Aliera stepped back and nodded; she and Aibynn vanished.

I was about to start in on the goddess when a small girl emerged from behind the throne. I caught myself and said, "Hello, Devera."

" 'Lo, Uncle Vlad."

"Why were you hiding?"

"I can't let Mama see me yet."

"Why not?"

"It might upset things."

"Oh. So she"—I indicated the Demon Goddess—"is your grandmother?"

Devera smiled and crawled up into her lap.

"Boss, is it just me, or is this really weird?"

"It's both of us."

Verra said, "I'm sorry all of this had to happen."

"You bloody well should be."

"I did help save your life."

"Yeah. People have been doing that a lot. Thanks, I suppose."

"Is there something you want to say to me?" "Yes, Goddess, there is. You've gone a good way toward messing up my life, and, what's more, manipulated events such that, through my actions, hundreds of people have died. I don't care what your motivations were; I don't, want to have anything more to do with you. Okay?"

Devera looked unhappy, but didn't say anything. Verra said, "I understand, Vlad. But I won't hold you to that. You don't even know who you are yet. You're beginning another life now. Wait until you know what sort of life it is before you make decisions like that."

I started to say something more, but Devera climbed down from her lap, came up to me, took my hand

squeezed. "Don't be mad, Uncle Vlad, she meant well."

"I—" I stopped and looked down at her. I shook my head.

"Come," said Verra, "they await you at the Imperial Palace."

"For what?"

"You'll see. And I think we'll meet again, Vlad Taltos, however you feel about it at the moment." The room swirled and went away before I could speak again.

Life, thy name is irony, or something like that.

"And by his own actions, at risk of his life . . ."The voice of the seneschal rolled like thunder through the court. My eyes were down, and my thoughts were filled with two conflicting desires: First, I wanted to turn around and see how Count Soffta was taking the whole thing. Second, I very badly wanted to throw my head back and laugh aloud.

"... which would certainly have cost the lives of thousands of Imperial citizens ..."

Loiosh, of course, wasn't helping any. He sat on my shoulder, looking around, nuzzling Rocza, and generally carrying on as if he were personally being honored, and saying things like, "Do they really take this stuff seriously, boss?"

"... all the lands around Lake Szurke, within the Duchy of Eastmans watch, for a distance ..."

They had even given me a pillow for my knee; a pillow with a stylized Jhereg in grey against a black background. In keeping my eyes to the ground I kept seeing pieces of embroidered wing and head, and this made it harder than ever to keep a straight face.

". . . all rights and privileges pertaining to this rank, to be granted to all descendants and heirs of his body, for as long as the Empire ..."

I wondered how Cawti would react, were she here. Probably not very well, knowing how she felt about the Empire. Perhaps what I missed most about the new Cawti was that she seemed to have lost her sense of humor. And for what? The words of the Demon Goddess came back to me, and for a moment, bitterness overwhelmed irony.

"... crest with the Imperial Phoenix above of the symbol of House Jhereg ..."

His voice almost faltered there, but didn't. Had an Imperial title ever before been granted a Jhereg? Certainly, none had ever been granted an Easterner. My sense of humor returned.

"... crest shall be entered into the Imperial Registry for all time, and may not be removed save by unanimous vote of the Council of Heirs and the Emperor ..."

Just what I needed. I bit my lip. I was becoming anxious for this to end, because when it was over, I'd meet my wife once more. Would I have to say something at the end of the ceremony? No, a deep bow would do.

"... shall be known as Count Szurke, and shall have the right of high and low justice upon his lands, and bear responsibility for ..."

I wondered if this would make the Jhereg any slower to go after my head. Considering that I just implicated a Council member before the Empire, and then played a part in his murder, it wasn't very likely. How soon would they move? Soon. Very soon. If I was going to save my life, which I really should do after all the work Aliera and others had gone through to preserve it, I couldn't waste any time.

"... stand now, before the Empress and the Heirs of the court, and receive ..."

I had that rarest of positions, an Imperial title, which was worth exactly nothing. I wondered if the Empress saw the humor in it. The ceremony came to an end at last. As soon as was decent, I got out of there, intending to head back to the Iorich Wing. But as I was leaving the Imperial Wing, I found Aibynn, his drum at his feet, watching passersby and tapping out rhythms with coins on the marble railing against the wide stairway that led down into the antechamber.

"Here in the Empire," I said, "we call that a banister."

"Where are you going?" he said.

"Now? To meet my wife. After that, well, I'd like a favor from you."

"What's that?"

"The Phoenix Stone you carry; I want it."

He frowned, then said, "All right. It's still at that castle. You can just take it."

"Are you sure you won't need it?"

He shrugged.

"Your mind is made up, isn't it, boss?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks, Aibynn."

"You're welcome. What's that you're wearing?"

"This? I wear it so I don't get sick when—"

"No, that."

"Oh. It represents an Imperial title. It doesn't really mean anything. Want it? In exchange for the one you're giving me?"

"No, thanks. Where are you going?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. What about you? You can't go back home."

"Not now, anyway. That's all right. I like it here. The drumming is much more primitive."

Primitive? I chuckled, thinking of some musicians I'd met who'd have hated to be told that. "Whatever," I said. "Maybe I'll run into you again."

"Yes."

"And Aibynn ..."

"Yes?"

"I think you were wrong about the gods."

"Oh?"

"I think when a god does something reprehensible, it's still reprehensible."

"Then what is a god?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe you can find out."

"Yes." I said. "Maybe I can. Maybe I will. Thanks."

He nodded an acknowledgment and went back to playing the banister. I walked around to the lorich Wing, and found that I'd have to wait an hour or so while they finished the paperwork involved in releasing Cawti. That was all right; I had things to do. I walked away from the Palace, and, still taking delight in the lack of nausea, I teleported.

"You can't do this to me," said Kragar.

"I just did," I told him.

"I won't last five minutes."

"You've already lasted longer than that, and this isn't the first time."

"That was temporary. Vlad, I became a Jhereg because I couldn't be a Dragon. I was born a Dragon, you know that. And I'd try to give an order in battle, and no one would notice. I can't—"

"People change, Kragar. You've already changed."

"But-"

"Think of the money."

He stopped. "A point," he admitted.

"You also have the loyalty of everyone who works here. They know you and they trust you. Besides, what choice do I have? How much is the Organization offering for my head right now?"

He told me, and I was impressed in spite of myself. "The rumor is," he added, "that they want it Morganti."

"That would make sense," I said evenly, though I shuddered as I spoke. I looked around the office. It was still filled with all of my things—target on the wall, coat-rack where Loiosh and Rocza were perched, dark rings on the desk from where I habitually put my klava cup, the wheeled swivel chair I'd had specially designed, and more. It was more like home than home was.

"Will it ever be possible for you to come back?"

"Maybe. But even if it is, I'm not certain I'm ever going to want to. And what if I do? We can work something out, or I can start over somewhere else."

He sighed. "It's going to be hard to work around here without Melestav."

"Yeah. And Sticks."

We were silent for a few moments, out of respect for the dead. I still couldn't hate Melestav, and Sticks had meant a lot to me. I hate it when friends die.

Kragar said, "Will I be able to reach you?"

"No."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know. I've been east, the sea is south. That leaves north and west. Probably one of those directions."

He considered carefully. Then he said, "What are you going to do about South Adrilankha?"

"You don't have to worry about it," I said. "I'm making other arrangements for that territory."

"Well, that's something, anyway."

I took another look around the office. So much of my life had filled that room. Loiosh flew over to Kragar, nuzzled his ear for a moment, and landed on my right shoulder. Rocza landed on my left. I stood up. "Oh, and

Kragar, say good-bye to Kiera the Thief for me. Tell her I still owe her. On the other hand, I expect she can find me when she wants to."

"I'll tell her," said Kragar.

"Thanks. Good luck." I teleported.

It was like rehearsing a play; as if the director had said, "Do the bit over where you meet on the steps of the lorich Wing, only this time make it more intense." This time she put her arms around me and held me like she meant it. I put my arms around her and wondered why I wasn't reacting more strongly. Loiosh and Rocza kept careful watch around us.

"Tell me about it," she said.

Standing there, alone on the deserted steps as the slow, thorough evening tucked itself into the corners of the Palace, I did. I told her everything, and as I did, I wondered at the calm voice of this speaker, relating the tale of revolution, assassination, and intrigue as if he had no part in it. What is he feeling now? I wondered. I wished they'd found someone for the part more able to convey emotion. Or perhaps that was the effect desired by the director, if not the playwright.

When I finished, she pulled back and stared at me. "They'll kill you," she said.

"I don't think so."

"What will stop them?"

"I have a plan."

"Tell me."

"First you tell me—are you coming back to me?"

She didn't look away, as I'd expected. Instead she studied me carefully, as one studies a stranger whose mood and meaning one is trying to read from his face. She didn't say anything, which I think was an answer. But I put it into words. "Too much has happened. Too much murder, too much change. Whatever we had, we don't have it. Can we create something else? I don't know. But you're going one way and I'm going another. For now, that is."

Her eyes were so big. "You're going away, aren't you-"

"Yes."

"Are you ever coming back?" She asked it with a odd, detached air, as if she wasn't certain how much she cared, or was afraid she cared too much, or afraid she cared too little.

"I don't know," I said.

She nodded. "When are you leaving?"

"Right away."

"I'm sorry things have worked out this way."

"Me, too."

"You've left the business to Kragar?"

"Most of it. Except for South Adrilankha."

"What are you doing with that?"

I thought about the courtyard of Castle Black, until the image was strong and clear. I strengthened my connection to the Orb, drew energy, and began the teleport. "All Organization interests in South Adrilankha are yours," I said. "My people will be seeing you in the morning. Enjoy," I added, and I was gone.

Aliera and I sat alone in the library of Castle Black, waiting for Sethra and Morrolan to join us. This place, like my office, held more than a few memories. I'd sat here with my friends—yes, they were certainly that—and held war-councils, consoled each other, and celebrated. Much wine had flowed in this room along with tears and laughter, as well as promises of aid and threats of dismemberment; many of these things within minutes of each other

I noticed that Aliera was looking at me. "I met your daughter," I said.

"What daughter?"

"You'll find out."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ask your mother. Time does funny things around her, I guess."

She didn't answer directly. "I'll miss you," she said.

"I might be back; who knows?"

"The Jhereg carries a grudge."

"Don't I know it. But still—"

"What will you do?"

"I don't know. I want to be alone for a while."

"I can't imagine that."

"Me wanting to be alone? I suppose you're right. I'll have Loiosh and Rocza, anyway."

"Still-"

"Yeah. I'll probably find some place with 'people around. Probably Dragaerans, so I can go back to hating them in general and loving them in particular. But right now, I don't want to see anyone."

"I understand," she said.

"I owe you a lot."

"I owe you my life," she said.

"And I owe you mine, several times. I sometimes wish I could remember that previous life, back in the beginning."

"Sethra could arrange that," said Aliera.

"Not now."

"It might help you come to terms with who you are."

"I'll find my own way."

"Yes. You always do."

Morrolan and Sethra joined us before I could ask how she meant that. I said, "This is good-bye, for a while."

"So I had gathered," said Morrolan. "I wish you well on your travels. I shall watch over your grandfather for you."

"Thanks."

Sethra said, "I expect we will meet again, in this life or the next."

"The next," I said. "One way or another, it will be a different life."

"Yes," said Sethra. "You're right." I took my leave without another word.

Last of all I spoke with my grandfather. "You look well," he said.

"Thanks."

For the first time in my adult life, I was looking like an Easterner, not a Jhereg. I still had the same cloak, but it was now dyed green. I wore loose darrskin boots, green pants, and a light blue tunic.

"It's necessary, under the circumstances," I said.

"What circumstances are these, Vladimir?"

I explained what had happened, what I was doing about it, and what I thought he should do. He shook his head. "To be a ruler, Vladimir, even of a small place, it is a skill that I have not."

"Noish-pa, you don't have to rule. You don't have to do anything. There are about a hundred families of Teckla there, and a few Easterners, and they've been getting on quite well without anyone ruling them. You need not change anything. A stipend from the Empire goes with the title, and it is sufficient for you to live on. All you have to do is go to Lake Szurke and live in the manor, or castle, or whatever it is. If the peasants come to you with problems, I have no doubt you can suggest solutions, but they probably won't. You can continue your work there with no one to bother you. Where else will you go? And it is just west of Pepperfields, which is in the mountains west of Fenario, so you will be close to our homeland. What could be better?"

He frowned, and at last he nodded. "But what about you?" he said.

"I don't know. I am running for my life now. If things change, and I feel it safe to return, I will."

"And your wife?"

"That's over," I said.

"Is it?"

I tried to meet his eyes, but couldn't. "For now, it is. Maybe later, maybe after time has passed, but not now."

"I threw the sands last night, Vladimir. For the first time in twenty years, I threw the sands and asked what would become of me. I felt the power, and I read the symbols, and they said I would live to hold a greatgrandchild in my arms. Do you think the sands were wrong?"

"I don't know," I said. "I hope they were not. But if you are to see a grandchild, I must be alive to conceive one."

He nodded. "Very well, Vladimir. Do what you must. I will go to this place, and I will live there, so you will know where to find me when you can."

"When I can," I said. "When I can."

There was a place I remembered well, that meant nothing to anyone else, but a great deal to me. It was engraved forever in my memory, from the isolated patches of bright blue safe-weed among the tall grasses to the bent oak that loomed over the clearing as if to keep it safe from predators above; from the thorns of the wild winesage to the even slope of the wallbush, pointing away from the nearest water. Though barely more than a child when I'd been there before, I knew it; it had etched itself into my memory with a fine detail that I usually saved for the locations of hidden weapons on enemies or the daily habits of targets. Nature, in all its varied beauties and horrors, had hitherto been lost on me, save for this place. Perhaps now that would change.

Somewhere to my left came the sniggering laugh of a chreotha, spitting out its weaving to trap a norska or a squirrel. A bring-me-home, growing from the oak, whipped back and forth in the chilly breeze like a lazy whip: woosh-snap, woosh-snap. A daythief, somewhere above me, sobbed in counterpoint to the chreotha. The breeze made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I shivered pleasantly. It was just time for lilacs to loom; they were plentiful here and the scent mixed well with the blossoming of a stonefruit tree that hid itself behind the wallbush, outside the clearing.