by Steven Brust
The funniest part was that I caught Sethra glancing at Teldra. Teldra, for her part, said, “Here, I’ll wrap one for you.”
“That would be great,” I said.
She put one together for me, her long, graceful fingers nimble and precise as she measured each ingredient out on the leaf that lay in the palm of her hand; then she rolled it up in a smooth motion, and handed it to me with the least hint of a bow. I smiled at her, took it, and ate it. It was very good; the bitterwort slid through the plum sauce, and then the ginger and the red pepper sort of burst in on your tongue along with ... well, you get the idea. I had two more of them, making a point of eating slowly to give Teldra time to wrap and eat a couple of her own. Tukko came in with the next course, shuffling about and moving much quicker than it seemed he was. He gave us each what I thought was just a ball of rice, only the rice had been prepared with ginger, and saffron, and I swear a tiny bit of honey; it was quite remarkable.
“My compliments, Sethra,” I said.
“Thank you, Vlad,” which was just about the only conversation for some time.
The fruit was a selection of local berries, some of which I hadn’t run into before, but they were all good, and served with ice and thick cream, after which came thin slices of beef, just barely seared and seasoned with pepper and parsley and calijo, and served with fresh, thick-crusted dark bread. I couldn’t cut it with the knife, so I just set the meat on the bread and tore off bites of both.
It was very good.
I ate a great deal.
I noticed that I was sitting with my feet wrapped around the legs of my chair, which is something I’ve found myself doing when serious about eating. I stopped at once, of course; it’s hard to look tough with your feet wrapped around the legs of a chair. Sethra picked at her food, as she had the other times I’d eaten with her. I knew she didn’t eat much, for obvious reasons; I wondered if she enjoyed the flavors. Add that to my list of things I’ll never ask her, but would like the answer to.
Eventually, I sat back, stretched out, and said, “Okay, Sethra. Give me a couple of hours to digest, and I’ll take on every Jenoine you have, all at the same time.”
“Careful what you promise,” said Sethra Lavode.
“All right,” I said. “Let me rephrase that.”
Morrolan chuckled. So did Loiosh. I’m quite the jongleur when out of danger and with a meal inside me. Eventually we made our way back to the sitting room, and Tukko brought out a liqueur that was older than Morrolan and much sweeter, featuring the smallest traces of mint and cinnamon—an odd combination, but a successful one, and I’m pretty sure there was some honey in there, too.
I moaned softly. Sethra said, “Is the arm beginning to hurt?”
“No,” said Aliera. “That’s his moan of contentment after a good meal.”
“Now, how would you know that?” I asked her.
She gave me an inscrutable smile that she must have learned from Morrolan. I grunted and drank some more, and enjoyed the transitory sense of contentment I was feeling.
Sethra looked at my arm some more—and when I say she I looked at it, that’s what I mean. She stared at it so hard I’d say she was looking right through the skin, which is probably what she was doing, at least on some mystical level that I’ll never understand.
After several minutes, she said, “I don’t know. I’m not sure if I can do anything about it, but it looks like I may not have to.”
“How, it’ll fix itself?”
“I think so. It seems like it might be a temporary condition. I’ve been watching the signs of activity in the nerves, and it now seems clear that it is getting better rather than degenerating.”
“Degenerating,” I said. “Okay. What would that have meant?”
“Paralysis, then death, probably from suffocation when you became unable to breathe, unless your heart became paralyzed first, which would have killed you more quickly. But, as I say, it isn’t going that way, it is repairing itself.”
“Hmmm. Okay, that’s good news. Any idea how long?”
“I can’t say.”
“Remember, we Easterners don’t live more than sixty or seventy years.”
“I doubt we’re talking about years.”
“Good. Then I imagine you’re not going to ask me to do anything until I have two good arms, right?”
“I’m not sure we can wait, Vlad.”
“Oh? You mean, after two hundred thousand years, or whatever it’s been, things suddenly got urgent? When, yesterday?”
“Yes,” said Sethra. “I believe things have become urgent. They became urgent when Morrolan and Aliera were taken. Everything is at a new level now, and developments are taking place quickly.”
“But—”
“More important,” she continued, “I doubt they will give us time to do anything at all.”
“They wouldn’t attack Dzur Mountain again, would they?”
“I hope so. Anything else they might come up with would be worse, because we haven’t any preparations for it.”
“Hmmm,” I said, because that always sounds wise. “Have you spoken to the Empress?”
“Yes.”
“Well then—wait. You have?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” I said. “And, uh ... what does she say?”
“She wants me to deal with it.”
“She wants you to ... with all of her resources, she has no one else to call on except—”
“Me? And Morrolan e’Drien, and Aliera e’Kieron?”
“Uh ...”
“Go ahead, Boss; talk yourself out of this one.”
“Shut up, Loiosh.”
“I was referring to myself, Sethra,” I said.
“Ah. Well, she is calling on me, and I am calling on you “
“You are—”
“Traditionally, this is exactly the sort of thing the Empress has called upon the Lavodes for; it is what we were created for. Now, as it happens, I am the only Lavode left. Well, there’s one other, but he isn’t ready yet.”
“The Lavodes were created to fight the Jenoine?”
“The Lavodes were created to handle threats or potential threats to the Empire that were fundamentally non-military.”
“I see.” I thought about it. “But I thought the Lavodes were disbanded before the Interregnum.”
“That is true, but I always thought that was a bad idea. The Empress, as it happens, agrees with me.”
“Ah. She agrees. Well, how nice. And evidently the Demon Goddess agrees with you, too. And Aliera agrees, and Morrolan agrees. And Teldra, of course, can’t help being agreeable. So I you’ve got agreement all the way around except from the Verra-be-damned Easterner who’d really like to have his left arm working again before doing anything stupid.”
“You might have a choice,” said Sethra. “But most likely you won’t.”
“Great. So we’re going to be in for it, whether we want to or not. What do we do?”
“Do you have any suggestions, Vlad?”
“For handling rampant Jenoine? No, that has never been a specialty of mine.”
“Then, perhaps, you’d care to shut up and let us figure something out.”
“Ouch,” I said. “All right. I’ll just sit here like any good weapon, and wait to be pulled from my sheath, blunted edge and all.”
“Good,” she said. “That’s just what I want.”
That hadn’t been the answer I was looking for, but I decided to be content with it before I encouraged something worse. I fell silent, just sitting there with my left arm hanging limp and useless in my lap.
“I wish,” said Aliera abruptly, “that we could find a way to carry the war to them.”
Morrolan looked at her. “Since that is such an obvious observation that you could not possibly have any reason for making it, I must assume you have an idea as to the particulars.”
She smiled sweetly at him, and suggested where he might put his assumptions, but caught herself, gl
anced at me, and eventually said, “No, as it happens, I was musing. I can’t think of any way to do so.”
Morrolan nodded. “If we’re speaking of wishes, I wish we understood them better.”
“I have a few guesses about them,” said Aliera, “based on what we’ve just been through, and what I’ve picked up from Sethra and my mother.”
“All right,” said Morrolan. “Keep talking.”
Sethra leaned forward attentively; I pretended to be bored with the whole thing.
“My first guess is that, whatever their long-term plans are, their next objective is Verra. We know that she has been then enemy for her entire existence, and everything that has happened can be seen that way—even the nonsense about trying to convince Vlad to kill her might be second-level deception, or even a straightforward attempt to convince him to do so.”
“Yes,” said Sethra. “I agree with your reasoning. Go on.”
“All right,” said Aliera. “My second guess is a little more daring.”
Morrolan muttered something under his breath.
“I believe,” said Aliera, “that their second target is the Orb.”
Sethra stirred. “The trellanstone?”
Aliera nodded. “The best way to attack the Orb would be with a device with similar properties.”
“Then why,” said Morrolan, “were we allowed to see it?”
“You think you were allowed to?” said Sethra. “I thought you had managed to penetrate their illusions, and see it in spite of them.”
“That’s what I had thought, too. But if the trellanstone is important, then why, of all the places in the Universe, would they put us near it, illusions or no? In fact,” he continued “there’s been too much of that going around with these things. Too many coincidences. Too many times we have to ask ourselves, ‘Why would they do that?’ All the way from asking Vlad to kill Verra, to doing nothing while Vlad broke us out of the manacles, and doing nothing again while he broke himself and Teldra out, and then allowing us to see the trellanstone, and—”
“My Lord Morrolan,” said Lady Teldra suddenly.
He stopped, and turned to her. He’d forgotten her, as had the rest of us. Her eyes were just a trifle wide.
“I know that look, Boss. She just got something. You get the same look when you finally figure out the obvious.”
“How would you know what I look like? You’re on my shoulder.”
“We have ways.”
Meanwhile, Teldra was holding up a finger, asking us to wait, making little nods to herself as pieces fell into place. Then she said, “If I may be permitted to express an opinion.”
Morrolan nodded impatiently.
“I think, perhaps, you do not understand the Jenoine.”
He chuckled. “That, my dear Teldra, is hardly news.”
Her smile came and went like a straight shot of plum brandy, and she said, “I learned something of the Jenoine years ago, most especially their language. I’m sure you are all aware that language holds the key to the thinking of a culture. And, of course, one cannot spend time in such illustrious company as my Lord Morrolan, Sethra Lavode, and such gods as they come in contact with from time to time, without learning more. And then, I spoke with them.”
She paused. I wondered if she got her sense of drama from Morrolan, or if he hired her because of it. “When you speak of place, you are speaking in terms that would not make sense to them. They have a concept of ‘place,’ but it is used in their mathematics, not in their daily lives.”
“All right,” said Aliera. “You have our attention.”
“I have heard some—including you, Aliera—speak as if the Jenoine had come to our world from another place. This is not entirely true. I—please bear with me, this isn’t easy to describe.” She hesitated. “The clearest way to say it is that they do not move as we do, nor do they remain stationary as we do. That room in which we were held captive is, in an important sense, the only ‘place’ they have. At least, as we would use the term ‘place.’ The world that Vlad and I explored was, to them, the same place as the room. When we shattered the enchantment that kept us from seeing some of what was in the room, what we did was the equivalent of breaking out of that room and exploring other places in the structure. When we physically left the room to explore the world outside that room, we were, in their view, spirit-walking. Well, that isn’t exactly right—it isn’t such a perfect reversal, but it is something like that.”
“Well,” said Aliera. “That makes everything clear.”
Teldra frowned. “Let me try again.”
“Take your time,” said Morrolan, giving his cousin a dirtv look.
“Think of them this way: They are to us as amorphia is to normal matter. To them, our world and the place where we were held captive are the same place, differing only as states of being. I ...” Her voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry to say,” said Morrolan, “that I don’t understand.”
I was glad I wasn’t the only one.
“The Necromancer,” said Sethra suddenly.
“Ah,” said Teldra. “Yes.”
Morrolan said, “Shall I summon her?”
The mere mention of her name explained some of it—it meant we were dealing with the sorts of mind-bending things that are beyond the powers of normal people to understand.
“I’m not certain,” said Aliera, “that I could survive that just now.”
I thought about making a comment about Aliera’s delicate emotions, but good sense prevailed. A lot of my best wit is shared with no one except Loiosh and you, so I hope you appreciate it; he usually doesn’t.
Teldra took her comment seriously. “It requires an adjustment in thinking that doesn’t come naturally. I began to get glimpses of it when I studied their language, but I didn’t actually understand it until speaking with them. Yes, the Necromancer must necessarily understand these things, and I’m certain she could explain it better than I.”
Morrolan cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose,” he said, “that you could explain the, uh, practical ramifications.”
“I believe I can,” said Sethra Lavode.
Teldra shot her a look full of gratitude. Meanwhile, I was thinking, “Wait a minute; how is it Teldra knows this stuff and Sethra doesn’t?”
She answered the question before I could decide if I wanted to ask it aloud.
“What you are saying, my dear Teldra, makes sense of many things I have almost understood. Yes. It explains why they were able to achieve access to Dzur Mountain just when they did. It was not, as I thought at the time, a failure of my mundane defenses, nor of the magical ones. It was an attack from a direction that was unexpected, because, if you will, I didn’t know the direction existed.”
Teldra nodded. “To themselves, they would say they redefined your defenses.”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” I said. “Good. Now I understand everything.”
“In practical terms,” said Sethra, as if I hadn’t spoken, “it explains at least some of the peculiar behavior you witnessed while confined. In particular, the place they kept you is, as you said, the only place they have. The world the only world, the building the only building, the room the only room. They were, in that sense, in there with you the entire time. You didn’t see them or hear them when their attention was focused elsewhere. They—”
“Rubbish,” I said.
“Excuse me, Vlad?” said Sethra, who I imagine wasn’t used to being addressed that way.
I repeated my remark, then amplified. “I don’t care if they consider it a place, or a state of mind, or, well, or whatever they consider it. They are real beings. They have bodies. They have places those bodies are.”
“What is your point, Vlad?” said Sethra, who seemed to be doing me the courtesy of taking me seriously.
“You don’t sit a bunch of prisoners down in front of a powerful object, even concealed, unless either you want them to find it, or ...”
I stopped, considerin
g what I had been about to say.
“Yes, Vlad?” said Morrolan. “Or?”
“Or unless you have no choice.”
Sethra said, “How could ... oh. I see. Yes, that makes sense.”
Morrolan and Aliera were already there. Morrolan said, “It was the trellanstone that was holding us in place, that was keeping that gate shut. Yes, I can almost see that.”
“Almost?”
“Well, it needs something to work with.”
“You don’t think there is enough amorphia on that world’” I said.
“Oh, right,” said Morrolan.
Sethra looked at us. “Amorphia? How could there be amorphia there? It only occurs on our world. They cannot duplicate the conditions that gave rise to it without, in all probability, destroying their entire world.”
I said, “I don’t suppose there is a quick explanation for that remark, is there Sethra?”
Morrolan and Aliera looked impatient, but Sethra said, “The Catastrophe that created the Great Sea in the first place resulted from several fluke occurrences, as well as some nasty scheming and plotting on the part of Verra and others with her. But the fact that it failed to entirely consume the world is the biggest fluke of all. Amorphia is not something that is containable, by its very nature. To create it is to end everything.”
“But Adron’s Disaster—”
“Very nearly destroyed the world again,” said Sethra, “but the one advantage the gods had in containing it was the existence of the Great Sea. Had the Great Sea not been there, the Lesser Sea might well have destroyed all life in the world.” She shook her head. “I simply cannot conceive of the Jenoine finding a way to produce amorphia.”
