Issola

by Steven Brust

  “Over my shoulder,” said Morrolan.

  “Damn,” I said. “I missed it, didn’t I? And I’ll bet it was fun, too.”

  “It was successful,” said Aliera. “That is, we’re here.”

  “How long has it been?”

  Aliera said, “About an hour,” at the same time as Sethra said, “A week and a day.” They looked at each other, both started to speak, then looked at me.

  I managed to say, “Never mind. My fault. I—what happen to my arm?”

  Sethra hesitated, then said, “We aren’t exactly sure.”

  “My arm doesn’t seem to be working,” I explained.

  “I know,” said Sethra.

  I felt my heart start to pound. Now was a hell of a time for it to start that. I took a deep breath, reminded myself that I shouldn’t, then realized that it was all right after all. I made myself speak evenly. “I don’t know if I’m more frightened that my arm doesn’t work, or that Sethra isn’t sure why.”

  “I hope to find out,” said Sethra.

  I nodded. “Well, why don’t you tell me about it.”

  Of course, Aliera and Morrolan started speaking at once, glared at each other, and so on. I waited patiently. Finally, Aliera said, “Do you want the short version, or the long version?”

  “Just tell me what happened, all right?”

  “We attacked them. There was a skirmish. You unleashed pre-Empire sorcery, which succeeded in freeing Morrolan and me from whatever was holding us, and also, it seems, broke whatever was keeping us from our gate. No one was hurt except you—”

  “None of them?”

  “No.”

  “Hmmm,” I said. “They’re pretty tough, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” said Morrolan.

  “Okay. What happened to me?”

  Morrolan and Aliera looked at Lady Teldra, who nodded and said, “Yes, I saw it. You went forward toward one of them, holding the dagger—”

  “—the Morganti dagger.”

  “Yes.”

  I nodded. “I don’t remember ... wait ... yes, I do. I remember drawing it and moving in.”

  “Yes. Then one of them aimed some sort of weapon at Verra. You interposed yourself, and—”

  “I what?”

  “You interposed yourself between Verra and the weapon of the Jenoine, and were struck by it somewhere high on the left arm or shoulder.”

  “I didn’t really.”

  “You did, Boss.”

  “You did, Vlad,” said Teldra.

  “Why?”

  Verra chuckled. Morrolan said, “I’d give my summer palace to know.”

  “You don’t have a summer palace,” I said.

  “True, but I’d like one.”

  “I’d like my left arm back. I can’t believe I did that.”

  “None of us can,” said Morrolan.

  I glanced at the Goddess, who was looking at me with an unreadable expression. I’m tired of unreadable expressions. I said, “Is that what you said was stupid, Goddess? I thought you meant my use of the Elder Sorcery.”

  “That too,” said the Goddess. “You could easily have destroyed us all before I could contain it.”

  “I have confidence in your Godlike abilities,” I said.

  “You—”

  She didn’t finish the thought. I had left a Goddess speechless. I wondered how that would count when I reached the Halls of Judgment. I said, “Spellbreaker didn’t help?”

  “It isn’t that kind of magic,” said Verra helpfully.

  “Then what kind is it?” I asked, more because I was annoyed than because I wanted an answer; which was just as well because the only answer I got was a slight smile from Verra. I turned to Sethra. “You don’t know what happened?”

  “Not exactly. Are you in any pain?”

  “No.”

  She nodded. “I suspected you wouldn’t be. It probably works directly on the muscle.”

  Verra said, “They had something like that when I knew them, for use on test subjects. But it was larger and clumsier.”

  “Test subjects,” I repeated.

  Aliera said, “Any idea how to effect a cure?”

  “Not yet,” said Sethra.

  “I see.”

  After an uncomfortable silence, I said, “All right, then what happened?”

  Morrolan said, “At about the same moment you went down, Aliera and I struck at two of them.” He glanced at Aliera, then said, “I cannot speak for my cousin, but I put a great deal into that attack.”

  “Heh,” said Aliera.

  “They were able to avoid physical contact with our weapons—I’m not certain of the nature of their defense—but our attack that time nevertheless appeared to discommode them.”

  “Heh,” I said.

  Aliera shrugged. “At any rate, they were not able to paralyze us as they had the first time. We had both struck them once before, a coordinated attack—”

  “I remember that,” I said.

  “I don’t know what happened next,” said Morrolan, “except at it was Verra who did it.”

  The Goddess said, “I did little enough. The Easterner’s foolishness destroyed the devices that were keeping us on their world; I merely transported us off it, which you or Aliera could have done. I did take the opportunity to give them a few things to keep them out of the way. They still fear me,” she added.

  “I imagine they do,” I said. “Then what?”

  “I picked you up,” said Morrolan, “as the gate began to open. That was, perhaps, an hour ago.”

  “An hour. That’s all?”

  He nodded.

  I rubbed my left arm. There was no sensation in it, but neither did it feel cold or especially warm to my right hand, for whatever that was worth. It is odd touching a lifeless limb. My fingers felt my arm, but my arm couldn’t feel my fingers. It’s a strange sensation. Try it sometime.

  “A very respectable escape,” I ventured. “Well done.”

  “And yourself,” said Aliera. “I must disagree with Mother; I believe your attack was worth the risk. At least, I don’t know how we’d have gotten away otherwise.”

  “I do,” said Verra, giving Aliera a stern look that made me want to giggle.

  Aliera shrugged. “Well, we managed it, and without much harm. That’s the important thing.”

  I glanced at my injured arm, and started to object to the “without much harm” business, but didn’t.

  “No,” said Morrolan. “The important thing is that Vlad, however well intentioned, invoked powers he does not understand, and cannot control, and nearly got us killed.”

  “Sorry about that,” I said. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “It was a good idea,” said Aliera. “It was also necessary, after my cousin made such a clumsy strike at the Jenoine—”

  “It was hardly clumsy,” said Morrolan. “It was quite sufficient, or would have been, if the Jenoine had not succeeded in blocking it, as, in fact, he blocked yours. More easily, I suspect.”

  “Not likely,” said Aliera. “In fact, as I recall, you were late in your—”

  The worst part was, I was too weak to get up and walk away.

  “I was hardly late,” said Morrolan. “If anything, you—”

  “Oh, stop it,” I said.

  They ignored me.

  “If anything I what,” said Aliera. “Pathfinder was—”

  “Stop it!” I said, and for an instant they stopped. I rushed into the void like Sethra rushed her reserves into the breach at the Battle of Ice River Crossing (actually, I know nothing about the Battle of Ice River Crossing except that there was one and Sethra was there; but it sure sounded knowledgeable, didn’t it?) I said “Can you two, just one time, give a tired and injured man a little peace? Besides, your arguments, as always, are stupid to begin with. Morrolan goes out of his way to be contentious toward Aliera because he idolizes Adron and therefore believes his daughter ought to not only be his equal in all matters, but ought to do
and say everything exactly the way Morrolan imagines Adron would; and Aliera, of course, idolizes her big, powerful brave cousin Morrolan, and so has a tantrum whenever he fails to live up to the Morrolan she’s manufactured in her head. It’s infernally stupid, and I’ve been listening to it for more years than a short-lived Easterner should have to, and I’m heartily sick of it. So shut up, both of you.”

  I ran down at last.

  “My goodness, Boss.”

  I was a bit surprised myself; I hadn’t known I knew most of that stuff until I said it, and wouldn’t have believed I’d have said it if I knew it. And now I got to sit there and wonder if, after all of Teldra’s remarks about how tactful I was, I had finally stepped over the line.

  I risked a look at the pair of them.

  Morrolan was looking down, a self-conscious, maybe even embarrassed smile trying to fight its way past his facial control. Aliera was blushing. Actually blushing. This was as remarkable as having astonished the Demon Goddess. I don’t know, by the way, how the Goddess reacted to my outburst, because I carefully avoided looking at her.

  Morrolan cleared his throat, started to speak, then didn’t. Eventually, Sethra filled the silence with, “Well, my friends, It is certainly the case that Vlad could use a little quiet. Or, at least, less volume.”

  Morrolan grunted something that sounded like agreement; Aliera looked down and nodded. They hadn’t even looked at each other. I hoped I hadn’t made things uncomfortable for them. Except that part of me hoped I had.

  Before anything else could happen, I turned to Teldra and said, “I’m glad you survived.”

  “I did,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “What was it you were saying to them, right when I was doing whatever I was doing that created such a fuss?”

  Teldra chuckled. “I suggested that it would be easier for them to resist the effects of the amorphia if they were to release Morrolan and Aliera.”

  “Oh. Was that all?”

  “Almost.”

  “Oh?”

  Lady Teldra blushed. “I’d rather not say, if you don’t mind.”

  I felt my eyebrows rising. Aliera, and now Teldra. What was the Empire coming to? Morrolan chuckled and said, “A well-timed, properly delivered insult can unsettle anyone. I don’t know exactly what she discovered that a Jenoine might find so offensive as to disrupt its concentration, but I am not astonished that Teldra knew.”

  “Teldra,” I said admonishingly. “Was that polite?”

  “It was,” she explained, “appropriate.”

  Morrolan snorted.

  “In any case, we’re alive, and free. It’s over,” I said hopefully

  The Demon Goddess gave a small laugh. “Over? Do you really think so? Do you imagine that your escape has foiled what ever campaign the Jenoine have begun? Or that I will be satisfied letting them continue their mischief without making any sort of counter?”

  I sighed. “No, I suppose not. But I’m injured; whatever you do won’t include me, will it?”

  I looked at Morrolan, Sethra, and the Demon Goddess, and sighed. “Well, can we at least have a decent meal before we do whatever it is we’re going to do?”

  Sethra nodded. “I think that is an excellent idea. I’ll see to it.”

  She left to have food prepared, and my stomach growled and rumbled at the idea. I closed my eyes.

  I heard the sounds of people sitting, and, wounded arm or no, enjoyed the feeling of being momentarily safe. The muscles in my shoulders and neck relaxed, and I took a big lungful of normal air that I didn’t have to think about breathing.

  Presently, a rough, high-pitched voice said, “Wine, my lord?”

  I opened my eyes, saw Tukko, and closed my eyes again. “Yes,” I said. And, “please,” I added, because Lady Teldra was nearby. I sat up, discovering that it was harder than I’d have thought without being able to use my left hand, and took a glass of something red and sipped it. My tongue liked it—it was faintly nutty and had a bit of tang to it—but my stomach complained that it wanted something solid before I got too involved in this whole drinking business. I caught Teldra looking at me, I lifted my glass to her. “To survival,” I said.

  “Yes, indeed,” she said.

  Sethra returned and said, “Dinner will be ready in an hour.” he smiled at me and said, “Will you survive that long?”

  “I think so,” I said. It suddenly occurred to me that, while Sethra was off giving the order for food to be prepared, Tukko, only servant I’d ever seen here, was with us. Was there a staff of cooks I’d never met? If so, why, since Sethra’s usual diet didn’t feature anything that needed cooking? If not, had she gone off to arrange for some culinary ensorcellment? Of all the myriad mysteries surrounding the Dark Lady of Dzur Mountain, I knew that this one was going to bother me. Maybe I could bring myself to ask her. Sometime when Lady Teldra wasn’t around.

  I drank my wine, and Sethra sat down next to me. “Let’s see that arm,” she said. I couldn’t show it to her because I couldn’t move it, so I just shrugged my one good shoulder and looked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her holding it, rolling my sleeve back, touching it; but I felt no sensation.

  I said, “Evidently the nerves have been damaged, too; I can’t feel your charming, cold, undead fingers.”

  “Mmmmm,” she said. Then, “Yes, it is nerve damage, not muscle damage.” She continued her inspection. I tried to think about other things without much success.

  “Is it repairable?” I asked eventually, trying to keep my voice casual, as if I were asking if a blunted dagger could be resharpened.

  “I’m not sure,” she said in much the same way. Bitch.

  “Good wine,” I told her. “Thanks.”

  She smiled as if sharing a joke with herself and said, “You are most welcome, Lord Taltos.”

  She set my arm back in my lap and said, “We’ll have to see.”

  I nodded. No one spoke. I cleared my throat and said, “So, all right, what’s the plan?”

  13

  While in the Care of the Physicker

  “It’s too soon to talk about plans,” said Morrolan. “I’m still trying to recover.”

  “Nonsense,” I said. “It’s never too soon to talk about plans. Making plans is one of the great joys of my life. Sometimes, on alazy afternoon, I just sit around and make up plans. I’ve often said—”

  “Be quiet, Vlad.”

  “Feel better now, Boss?”

  “A bit, Loiosh.”

  “You know, Morrolan,” said Aliera. “He has a point. It wouldn’t hurt any to start thinking about how we’re going to go after them.”

  “It’s too soon to talk about plans,” I said. “I’m still trying to recover.”

  Morrolan favored me with a disgusted look.

  Sethra said, “Lady Teldra, I assume you will grace us with your company at table?”

  “That is kind of you,” said Teldra. “Yes, I should be de­lighted.” For a moment that confused me, until I remembered that she was Morrolan’s servant, which fact had somehow gotten lost in the last few days.

  “Good,” said Sethra.

  “Let me see that arm,” said Aliera abruptly. She came over and knelt down next to me, picked up my arm, and stared at it. “Nerve damage can sometimes be repaired,” she said after a mo­ment.

  “Yes,” said Sethra. “Sometimes, depending on the nature of the damage. In this case, I can’t quite tell what they did.” This of course, made me feel great. What is it about physickers, or sorcerers acting as physickers, that makes them talk about the sick guy as if he weren’t in the room?

  Aliera turned to Verra and said, “Mother? Do you know how it works?”

  “The one I remember worked on the muscle, not the nerve.” she said.

  “Well, can you help?”

  “Perhaps,” said the Goddess.

  Perhaps. I liked that. What’s the point of divinity if you can’t help your devoted worshipers? I sat there, my arm hanging limp, an
d thought evil thoughts.

  Sethra suggested I lie back down and relax until we were called to table, which seemed like a good idea, so I did, and I believe I actually dozed off for a while, to be woken by Loiosh, who is quite accomplished at waking me, explaining that he was used to surviving on scraps, but if I wanted any more than that it was time for me to be moving.

  I grunted and struggled up to my feet, which, as I’ve already observed and now discovered again, is harder than you’d think when shy an arm, then followed Aliera and Teldra, who were having a quiet conversation and making their leisurely way to the dining room. I sat down with Teldra on one side of me, and Sethra, at the head of the table, on the other; Morrolan and Aliera were across from us. I said, “Where is the Goddess?”

  “Is that a philosophical question, Vlad?” asked Morrolan.

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “She has returned to her own domain,” said Aliera.

  “What, she didn’t like the menu?”

  Sethra smiled at that, but gave no response; nor was one needed, because Tukko came in at that moment, carrying a large silver platter in each hand. He set one of them down between Morrolan and me, the other between Teldra and Aliera.

  “Oh,” said Sethra, in a tone I’d never heard from her before.

  I looked up, and she was staring at the food with a look of distress on her face. I tried to remember when I’d seen her distressed before.

  “Vlad, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize what was being prepared.”

  I looked at the food again, frowned, and then figured it out and chuckled. “Oh,” I said. “That’s funny, in a grim sort of way.”

  My father had never approved of what he called “half-prepared food,” of which this was a sample. I don’t have a problem with it, myself—it’s sort of fun to put things together yourself, adjusting the quantities, and so on. But my father believed that a good chef made all the decisions about food; if the guest added even a bit of lemon or salt to something my father had built, then, he believed, there must be something wrong—either with the food or with the guest.

  I think this says more about my father than about food.

  The item before us consisted of treska leaves—fresh, green, and curly. One would spoon a tiny bit of plum sauce onto a leaf, add a minute quantity of dried kethna, a morsel of diced leek, a piece of lime, a slice of bitterwort, a sliver of ginger, and a dusting of dried red pepper. One then rolled the thing up and popped it whole into one’s mouth. I’d had versions of this be­fore—most of the islands had something like it, using dried sea­food of some kind in place of kethna, as a lovers’ snack. Cawti and I had once—but never mind that. The point is, you need two hands to prepare it, and Sethra had just realized that it was exactly the wrong thing to serve just then, and she was mortified. I was amused. Hungry, but amused.