Phoenix

by Steven Brust

  Where did this leave me? Hiding in a thicket on a strange island and figuring how to take the life of someone I didn't know, someone who wasn't in the Organization and subject to its laws, all because my goddess told me to. We humans believe that what a god tells you to do is, by definition, the right thing. Dragaerans have no such ideas. I was a human who'd been brought up in Dragaeran society, and it made for much discomfort.

  I pulled a blade of grass and chewed it. The trees in front of me bent uniformly to the right, as if from years of wind. Their bark was smooth, an unusual effect, and there were no branches on the lower fifteen or twenty feet, after which they erupted like mushrooms, full of thick green leaves that whispered as the wind stirred them. Behind me were typical cloin-burrs, about my height, bunched up like they were having a conversation, their reedy bodies standing on those silly exposed roots as if they were about to turn and walk away. Cawti had a gown made of cloin-burr thread. She'd pulled the thread herself, finding a whole grove in late summer, just when they were turning from pale green to crimson, so the gown, a sweeping, flowing thing, with white lace about the shoulder, starts as a mild green at the bottom and burns like fire where it meets at her throat. The first time I took her to Valabar's, she wore that gown with a white gem as the clasp.

  I spat out the blade of grass and found another as I waited for sunset, when I could walk down the streets unnoticed. When that time came, I still hesitated, undecided, until Loiosh, my companion and familiar, spoke into my mind from his perch on my right shoulder.

  "Look, boss, are you really going to explain to Verra that you had a sudden attack of conscience, so she's going to have to find someone else to shine the bum?"

  I started a small fire with the bark of the trees, which turned out to burn very well, and in it I destroyed the notes I'd made. I put the fire out and scattered the ashes, then I removed a dagger from under my left arm, tested the point and edge, and made my way into town.

  There was the blood of a king on the back of my right hand as I stepped out of the Palace and ducked around behind it. The few moments after the assassination are the most dangerous time, and this whole job was flaky enough already that I very badly didn't want to make any mistakes. It was early evening and would be full dark in less than an hour. Even as it was, I didn't think I'd stand out very much. I ducked behind a large wooden frame that I'd picked out earlier, and I still didn't allow myself to break into a run. I walked steadily toward the edge of town. I wrapped the knife, red with the King's blood, in a piece of cloth and stuck it in my cloak.

  Loiosh had stayed outside, above the Palace, and was still flying around nearby.

  "Any pursuit?"

  "None, boss. Quite a bit of excitement. They're looking around for you, but they don't seem very efficient."

  "Good. Anyone looking at the ground? Any signs of spells or rituals?"

  "No, and no. Nothing but a lot of running around and— wait. Someone's just come out and—yeah, he's sending people off in various directions. No one going the right way."

  "How many toward the dock?"

  "Four."

  "All right. Come back."

  A minute or two later he landed on my right shoulder.

  "You hanging on to the knife, boss?"

  "If they catch me, the knife won't matter. I don't want to leave it lying around, because they might have witches."

  "The sea?"

  "Right."

  Once I was well away from the city, I began to jog. This was a part of the escape plan I wasn't too happy with, but I hadn't been able to come up with anything better. I try to stay in shape, but I carry several pounds of hardware around with me, not to mention a rapier in a sheath that reaches almost to the ground and is not designed to be run with. I jogged for a while, then walked quickly, then jogged some more. A small stream met up with me, and I splashed through it for a while, and when we said our good-byes my feet were still dry; miracle provided by darrskin boots and chreotha oil.

  All I had to do was get to the dock area before morning, grab one of the small boats, and sail it far enough out to sea that I could teleport. One of the interesting things was that I didn't know how far out that was, so if I was seen and pursued it could get tricky. As I figured it, though, I'd be there at least two hours before dawn. The trick was to get there well ahead of those who'd set out after me, and they were on the road. If they beat me there, and I found the dock was guarded, I'd have to hide and wait for a chance.

  "There's someone around, boss. Wait. More than one. Close. We'd better—"

  Something knocked into me and I suddenly realized I was lying down on my back, and then I realized I couldn't move my left shoulder, and I started to hurt. There was a roundish rock next to me, which I deduced someone had thrown at me. I lay there, hurting, until Loiosh said, "Boss. Here they come!"

  I usually have a pretty good memory for fights, because my grandfather trained me to remember all of our practice sessions so we could go over them later to discuss my mistakes, but this one is largely a blur. I remember feeling a certain cold precision as Loiosh flew into the face of a woman dressed in light clothing of a tan color, and I noted that I could forget her for a while. I think I was already standing by then. I don't remember getting to my feet, but I know I rolled around on the ground for a while first to avoid giving them a target.

  Somewhere, way back, I noticed that drawing my sword hurt quite a bit, and I remember nicking a very tall thin woman on the wrist, and poking a man in the kneecap, and spinning, and feeling dizzy. The short spear seemed to be the standard weapon, and one bald guy with amazing blue eyes, a potbelly, and great strong arms got lined up for a good thrust at my chest, which I parried easily. My automatic reaction was to nail him with a dagger, but when I tried to draw it with my left hand, nothing happened, so I slashed at his face, connected, and kept spinning.

  There were three or four times when Loiosh told me to duck and I did. Loiosh and I had gotten good at this sort of thing. None of my attackers said much, except one called out, "Get the jhereg, he's warning him," and I remember being impressed that she'd figured it out. The whole fight, four of them against Loiosh and me, couldn't have lasted as long as it seemed to. Or maybe it did. I tried to keep moving so they'd get in each other's way, and that worked, and I finally got the potbellied guy a good one, straight through the heart, and he went down.

  I don't know if he took my sword with him, or if I let go, but I think it was right after that I drew a dagger and dived at one of the spears. That time the man, wearing a broad leather belt from which a long horn was suspended, was too startled to keep his spear up. He backed up and fell, and I don't remember what happened next but I think I took him then and there, because later I found the dagger still in his neck.

  I suspect I picked up his spear, because I remember throwing it and missing just as Loiosh told me to duck, and then there was a burning pain low in my back, to the right, and I thought, "I've had it." There was a scream behind me at almost the same moment and I mentally marked one up for Loiosh. I realized I was on my knees, and thought, "This won't do at all," as the tall woman charged straight at me.

  I don't know what happened to her, because the next clear memory I have is of lying on my back as the other woman, the one in tan, stood over me holding her spear, with Loiosh attached to the side of her face. She had a dazed look in her eyes. Jhereg poison isn't the most deadly I know of, but it will get the job done, and he was giving her a lot. She tried to nail me with her spear, but I rolled away, although I'm not certain how. She took a step to follow me, but then she just sort of sighed and collapsed.

  I lay there, breathing very hard, and raised my head. The tall woman was crumbled against a tree, still breathing, but with her own spear sticking out of her abdomen. I have no idea how I managed that. Her eyes were open, and she was staring at me. She tried to speak, but blood came from her mouth. Presently her breathing stopped and a shudder ran through her body.

  "We took 'em, Loiosh. Al
l four of 'em. We took 'em."

  "Yeah, boss. I know."

  I crawled over to the remains of the nearest one, the woman Loiosh had killed, and ripped at her clothing until I had enough cloth to cover the wound on my back. Getting at it hurt like—well, it hurt. I turned over and lay on it, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding.

  I got dizzy, but I didn't pass out, and after what must have been an hour I began the process of finding out if I could sit up. There were jhereg circling overhead, which might or might not lead someone to this place. Loiosh offered to get rid of them for me, but I didn't want him to leave. In any case, I needed to be away from there.

  I managed to stand, which was hard, and I didn't scream, which was harder. I took a few items from my pouch of witchcraft supplies, such as kelsch leaves for energy, and a foul-tasting concoction made from moldy bread, and a powder made from kineera, oil of cloves, and comfrey. I wrapped this in more of my enemy's clothing, got it wet from my canteen, and managed to replace the cloth on my back with it. The bleeding had somehow stopped, but taking the cloth away started it again, and it hurt a lot. I took some more kineera, my last, and mixed it with oil of wormwood, more clove oil, corfina, and ground-up pine needles, got it all wet in more cloth from Loiosh's victim, and put this against my shoulder. I spat out the kelsch leaf, decided chewing another would probably kill me, and struggled to my feet. The cloth on my back slipped, so I had to place it again and fasten it with blue eyes' belt. I held the other one in place, gritted my teeth, and quickly, heh, plodded through the forest.

  I must have made it a hundred yards before I got dizzy and had to sit down. After a few minutes I tried again and got maybe a little further. I sat there and caught up on my cursing, decided on another kelsch leaf, after all. It worked, I guess, because I think I made it most of a mile before I had to stop again.

  "Loiosh, what direction are we going?"

  "Still toward the docks, boss. I'd have told you if you were going wrong."

  "Oh. Good."

  I didn't say anything else, because even that seemed to drain me. I stumbled to my feet and resumed my brisk trudge. Every step was—but no, I don't want to think about it and you don't want to hear about it. We were less than three miles from the scene of the fight, perhaps five miles from the dock, when Loiosh said, "There's someone up ahead, boss."

  "Oh," I said. "Can I die now?"

  "No."

  I sighed. "How far?"

  "About a hundred feet."

  I stopped where I was and pulled myself behind a large tree.

  "Is there some reason why you just noticed him, Loiosh?"

  "I don't know. These people don't have much psychic energy. Maybe—he's gone."

  "I don't feel a teleport."

  "Got me, boss. He just—what's that?"

  "That" was a sound, like a low droning, gradually building in pitch. We stood listening. Were there waves, pulses within it? I wasn't sure. The tree had odd, pale green bark, and it was smooth against my cheek. Yes, there were pulses within the droning, a delicate suggestion of rhythm.

  "It's sort of hypnotic, boss."

  "Yes. Let's take a look."

  "Eh? Why? We don't want to be seen around here, do we?"

  "If he's looking for me, we can't avoid him. If not—do you really think I'm going to be able to make it all the way to the shore? Not to mention operating a Verra-be-damned boat when I get there?"

  "Oh. What are you going to do?"

  "I don't know. Maybe kill him and steal whatever he has that's useful."

  "Do you think you're up to killing him ?"

  "Maybe."

  He sat in a small dip in the fields, his legs drawn up under him, his back perfectly straight, yet he seemed relaxed. His eyes were open and looking more or less in our direction, but he didn't appear to see us as we approached. I couldn't guess his House; he seemed as pale as a Tiassa, as thin and gangly as an Athyra, with the slanted eyes and pointed ears of a Dzur. His facial structure, high cheekbones and pointed chin, could have been Dragon, or perhaps Phoenix. His hair was light brown, appearing darker in contrast to his skin. He wore baggy pants of dark brown, sandals, and a sort of blue vest with fringes. A large black jewel hung on a chain around his neck. I didn't think he'd be allowed into the Battles Club unless he found some other footgear.

  He held a strange, round device, perhaps two feet in diameter, under his left arm. "It's a drum, boss. Notice the skin across it?"

  "Yes. Made out of shell, I think. I suspect he's harmless. We can ask for help, or we can kill him. Any other ideas?"

  "Boss, I don't think you can take him in your condition."

  "If I can catch him when he's not expecting it—"

  The stranger stopped what he was doing, quite abruptly, and his eyes focused on us. He looked down at the drum and adjusted one of the leather cords that were sewn onto the head and appeared stretched all the way around the drum. He tapped the head with a beater of some sort, creating a rich and surprisingly musical tone. He frowned and adjusted another strap, struck the head again, and seemed satisfied. I hadn't heard any difference between the two tones.

  "Good afternoon," I managed.

  He nodded and gave me a vague smile. He looked at Loiosh, then back at his drum. He struck it again, very lightly, then louder.

  "It sounds good," I ventured, my breath coming in gasps.

  His eyes widened, but the expression seemed to mean something other than surprise, I don't know what. He spoke for the first time, his voice quiet and pitched rather high. "Are you from the mainland?"

  "Yes. We're visiting." He nodded. I looked around for something else to talk about while I figured out what to do. I said, "What do you call that thing?"

  "On the island," he said, "we call this a drum."

  "Good name for it," I told him. Then I stumbled forward a few steps and collapsed.

  I saw the tops of trees, swaying in a light wind. It smelled like morning, and I hurt everywhere.

  "Boss?"

  "Hey, chum. Where are we?"

  "Still here. With that drummer guy. Can you eat again?"

  "Drummer guy? Oh, right. I remember. What do you mean 'again'?"

  "He's fed you three times since you collapsed. You don't remember?"

  I thought about it, decided I didn't. "How long have we been here?"

  "A little more than a day."

  "Oh. They haven't found us?"

  "No one's come close."

  "Odd. I'd have thought I left a trail a nymph jhegaala could follow."

  "Maybe they haven't found the bodies."

  "That can't last long. We should move."

  I sat up slowly. The drummer looked at me, nodded, and went back to whatever it was he'd been doing when we got there. He said, "I changed your dressing again."

  "Thanks. I'm in your debt."

  He went back to concentrating on his drum.

  I tried to stand up, decided early on in the process that it was a mistake, and relaxed. I took a couple of deep breaths, letting tension out of my body. I wondered how long it would be until I could walk. Hours? Days? If it was days, I might as well roll over and die right now.

  I discovered I was very thirsty and said so. He handed me a flask which turned out to contain odd-tasting water. He tapped his drum again. I lay back against the tree and rested, my ears straining for sounds of pursuit. After a while he put a kettle on the fire, and a bit after that we had a rather bland soup that was probably good for me. As we drank it, I said, "My name is Vlad."

  "Aibynn," he said. "How did you come to be injured?"

  "Some of your compatriots don't take to strangers. Provincialism. There's no help for it."

  He gave me a look I couldn't interpret, then he grinned. "We don't often see anyone from the mainland here, especially dwarfs."

  Dwarfs? "Special circumstances," I said. "Couldn't be prevented. Why did you help me?"

  "I've never seen anyone with a tame jhereg before."

  "Tame?"
/>
  "Shut up, Loiosh."

  To Aibynn I said, "I'm glad you were here, anyway."

  He nodded. "It's a good place to work. You aren't bothered much—what's that?"

  I sighed. "Sounds like someone's coming," I said.

  He looked at me, his face blank. Then he said, "Do you think you can climb a tree?"

  I licked my lips. "Maybe."

  "You won't leave a trail that way."

  "If they see a trail leading here, and not away, won't they ask questions?"

  "Probably."

  "Well?"

  "I'll answer them."

  I studied him. "What do you think, Loiosh?"

  "Sounds like the best chance we're going to get."

  "Yeah."

  I could, indeed, climb a tree. It hurt a lot, but other than that it wasn't difficult. I stopped when I heard sounds from below, and Loiosh gave me a warning simultaneously. I couldn't see the ground, which gave me good reason to hope they couldn't see me. There was no breeze, and the smoke from the fire was coming up into my face. As long as it didn't get strong enough to make me cough, that would also help keep me hidden.

  "Good day be with you," said someone male, with a voice like a grayswan in heat.

  "And you," said Aibynn. I could hear them very well. Then I could hear drumming.

  "Excuse me—" said grayswan.

  "What have you done?" asked Aibynn.

  "I mean, for disturbing you."

  "Ah. You haven't disturbed me."

  More drumming. I wanted to laugh but held it in.

  "We are looking for a stranger. A dwarf."

  The drumming stopped. "Try the mainland."

  Grayswan made a sound I couldn't interpret, and there were mutterings I couldn't make out from his companions. Then someone else, a woman whose voice was as low as a musk owl's call, said, "We are tracking him. How long have you been here?"

  "All my life," said Aibynn with a touch of sadness.