Dzur

by Steven Brust

  “I couldn’t resist.”

  “Did you go all the way and kill the builders?”

  “I forgot that part.”

  He went over to the middle of the left-hand wall and gave it a push. It swung open without a sound. He led the way. It was narrow—just barely room to walk forward—but tall enough that Kragar didn’t have to stoop. The walls looked finished, probably with tile, and his boots went clack against the floor. When I spoke, there were echoes.

  “You left the basement floor dirt, but put a floor in this?”

  “Well, when you turned things over to me, I had all this money I didn’t know what to do with.”

  I didn’t have an answer for that, so I shut up and followed the dancing light of the lantern he held. It seemed like a very long walk.

  The tunnel didn’t branch, but led straight to a stairway, which ended in a narrow door. Kragar put his face against it.

  “A peephole?” I said.

  “Of course.”

  He pulled on a rope that hung from the ceiling, and the door opened.

  He stepped out, looked around, and nodded to me. Loiosh left my shoulder and flew out, then I followed. There was no one there.

  “Thanks, Kragar.”

  “Good luck, Vlad.”

  I took the Stone Bridge back to South Adrilankha, feeling very exposed and vulnerable during the walk, although Loiosh and Rocza were alert to anyone even glancing at me. It was around the seventh hour when I reached the Six Corners district. I made my way to Stranger’s Road and found the same observation point I’d used before.

  “Okay, Loiosh. See what’s up.”

  “On my way, Boss.”

  I slid back behind the corner of the building, reassured by Rocza’s weight on my shoulder.

  “Nothing yet, Boss.”

  “Be patient. If they noticed before, they’ll have to notice now.”

  “Oh, I’m patient. How ’bout you?”

  “Going crazy.”

  “That’s what I figured. Uh, Boss? Mind telling me what happens when they spot you? Or is it a secret?”

  “It’s a secret. I can’t trust you not to pass on the information to the Empire.”

  “Right. Did it occur to you that the Empire doesn’t much care if they kill you?”

  “The Empress likes me. If they get me, I’m sure she’ll wear something white. At least for the afternoon.”

  “That’s a great consol—someone’s coming out.”

  My stomach turned over.

  “Okay.”

  “Boss, can’t you just tell me generally what we’re going to do?—”

  “We’re going into the house.”

  “Going in? What—”

  “I have a plan, Loiosh.”

  “How are we getting out alive?”

  “The plan doesn’t extend that far. What is the sorceress doing?”

  “She’s looking around.”

  “Okay”

  “Should I stay here?”

  “Yes. Keep watching.”

  “Someone else has joined her. They’re talking. Should I get close enough to listen?”

  “No. Stay where you are.”

  “A third one, now.”

  I took a deep breath, and sent Loiosh a mental nod.

  “Three of them, Boss. Just standing on the porch.”

  “All right.”

  Rocza squeezed my shoulder. I turned around, and there was a sorceress behind me, about ten yards away, dressed in black and gray, holding a dagger. If the dagger wasn’t enchanted, I’d eat my new boots. I wanted to draw Lady Teldra so badly I could feel my hand twitching.

  “Took you long enough,” I told her. “I’ve been standing here for most of an hour.”

  Her grip on the dagger tightened in a way that looked like she might be about to do something with it, so I drew Lady Teldra, holding her in front of me. The dagger the sorceress was holding moved in a small circle. Lady Teldra glowed a little and I felt a tingle run up my arm. That’s all.

  “Now, now,” I said. “No need for unpleasantness.”

  Her expression didn’t change, but I got the feeling she didn’t know exactly how to handle this turn of events. Or maybe Jhereg banter was exclusive to the Right Hand. I badly wished to know what spell had been cast at me. She had long limbs, rather light hair, and deep-set eyes. She carried herself with a relaxed ease.

  “I’m Vlad,” I told her. “You?”

  “I’m not,” said the sorceress.

  “I didn’t actually think you were. Feel like telling me your name?”

  “Why? Can you use it in an enchantment?”

  Okay, so Jhereg banter crossed the line to the distaff side. “Probably not,” I said. “I’m willing to try, though, if you wish.”

  “They usually call me Nisasta, which I was once told means ‘seeker of truth’ in some language or another.”

  “They’re walking toward you, Boss.”

  “All right, Nisasta. Before your friends get here and I have to work up a sweat, how about if we just agree to have a peaceful conversation.”

  “You killed—”

  “Yes, I did. How about my proposal? Your friends are getting closer, and if it looks like I’m going to be outnumbered, I’ll have to do something about it.”

  Lady Teldra had taken the form of a short, very nasty-looking triangular dagger. I let her bounce a little in my hand. She felt solid and useful. Nisasta avoided looking at her.

  “How close are they?”

  “About thirty paces.”

  “Decide,” I said. “Talk, or slaughter. I don’t much care.”

  She still didn’t look at Lady Teldra. I was impressed; that can’t have been easy.

  “It isn’t my decision to make,” she said finally.

  “Then you’d best speak to whoever’s decision it is. Fast.”

  She nodded, and her brows furrowed a little; she didn’t close her eyes. That can’t have been easy, either; closing your eyes when speaking to someone psychically is instinctive.

  She said, “They say—wait.”

  “They’ve stopped, Boss. There’s—”

  “What? What?”

  “The Demon is here, Boss. With two bodyguards. He’s talking to the sorceresses. I can’t hear them from here.”

  “Okay. So far, so good.”

  “What are we going to do if they don’t want to talk?”

  “Improvise.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “Not to worry. It’s the same thing we’re going to do if they do want to talk.”

  “Oh. All right. That’s fine, then.”

  “I am told,” said the sorceress who called herself Nisasta, “that they’ll speak with you if you disarm yourself.”

  I laughed. “Oh, sure. That’s real likely. I’ll just walk with you into that house there, so I can be surrounded by a dozen sorceresses who all want to kill me, after giving up the one thing that might keep me alive. Do they have a second idea?”

  “You think it will be enough to keep you alive? You should know there is now a teleport block over this entire area. No can gets in or out save by walking, and no one is close enough to help you.”

  I shrugged. “I expected that when I put myself into this situ­ation. We can dance if you want. You’ll probably get me eventu­ally. How many of you will go down first, and what will happen when you do? You know what I carry.”

  She barely nodded, and was silent again for a moment.

  “They still aren’t moving, Loiosh?”

  “Nope. Just standing there, Boss. Talking with the Demon. Shall I get close enough to—?”

  “No. We wait.”

  I briefly wondered why I felt so calm; then I became aware of the smooth, cool, reassuring feeling of Lady Teldra’s hilt in my hand, and stopped wondering. Would Telnan consider this cheat­ing? I’d have to ask him if I got out of this.

  “Are you willing to, at least, sheath it?”

  I hadn’t expected that question, and I had to t
hink about it. “If we talk out here, no. If we’re going inside, then I will, until something happens that makes me feel threatened. I react badly when I feel threatened. It’s a personality quirk.”

  After a moment, she said, “Inside, then.”

  I nodded. “After you.”

  “Boss, you want to go inside?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why, for all the—”

  “If spark comes to fire, I want them in a confined space.”

  “But—”

  “Not now, Loiosh.”

  She set off toward the house. I sheathed Lady Teldra, not without some regret, and followed her. Loiosh flew over to me. Nisasta, as much as I could tell watching her from behind, flinched just a little when he flew past her. She looked back at him as he landed on my shoulder. I wasn’t calm anymore, which was good, because Telnan could no longer accuse me of cheating.

  “Hey, Boss. How do you figure the odds that they’re going to try to kill you once we get inside.”

  “Dead certain, more or less.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured, too.”

  “Glad to know we’re in sync.”

  “Yeah. Any idea how we’re going to get out of it?”

  “Some vague ideas, yes.”

  “Okay. Care to tell me why we put ourselves in this position?”

  “It’s been our plan all along.”

  “Oh. Well. All right then. And to think I was worried.”

  The sorceresses, along with the Demon and his bodyguards, were about forty paces ahead of the one called Nisasta, who was just a few paces ahead of me. The group of them opened the door, entered, and vanished within. Nisasta reached the door and held it open for me. I gave a nod toward it. She shrugged, and walked in front of me.

  “Want me to scout?”

  “No. Stay with me.”

  We stood in a wide entryway, with a hallway leading off to the right, an arch at the far end, a stairway next to the arch, and a door, presumably a closet, to the left. It looked pleasant and comfortable; the sort of place Jakoub might dream of buying. Or Sandor. The door swung shut behind me, from some sort of coun­terweight, or maybe a spell of some kind. It went “snick” with a sort of finality. I wondered how hard it would be to open it again.

  “Boss, are we trapped?”

  “No, they are.”

  “Oh. All right, then.”

  Nisasta looked back at me over her shoulder. “We’ll talk in here,” she said, and went through the arch.

  “Last chance to run, Boss.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  I walked through the archway like I hadn’t a worry in the world. 17. Palaczinta

  Mihi came back to the table. He brought a bucket of ice on a stand, and in the bucket was a bottle I knew well. Mihi was all smiles. I think this was his favorite part; it was certainly right up there for me.

  Dragaerans usually served a fruit at the end of a meal, but we East­erners like to serve a confection, or something sweet to finish off a meal. We call it “dessert” and no one does it better than Valabar’s. Mihi gave a slight bow, refilled our wineglasses, took a deep breath, and began speaking.

  “Today, Mr. Malabar has prepared an apple cheesecake with a mild cinnamon sauce topped with powdered chef’s sugar and a finely ground pecan mix chocolate raspberry mousse cake in a chocolate shell sweet­ened with white sugar with jumpberry sauce and a selection of fresh berries vanilla-cinnamon custard lightly caramelized on top with brown sugar and a garnish of fresh fruit a six-layer dessert palaczinta consisting of a layer of rednuts ground to a fine powder a layer of sweetened choco­late a layer of raspberries a layer of walnuts ground to a powder and a layer of tartberries with a chocolate-brandy sauce dribbled on top.”

  Telnan stared at Mihi. Mihi looked smug.

  At last, Telnan said, “What?”

  “No, no,” I said. “Don’t make him repeat it. My heart couldn’t take it. I’ll have the palaczinta.”

  Telnan’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times.

  “Bring him the mousse cake,” I said. “He’ll like that.”

  “Uh, sure,” said Telnan.

  Mihi nodded happily and walked off

  A palaczinta is nothing more than a wafer-thin griddle cake, suitable for having preserves spread on it, or maybe butter and sweetened cinnamon, or to be rolled up with meat and baked. But at Valabar’s, they’d stack them in layers with a delightful assortment of things on each layer—and then slice it like a pie. It is a joy and a delight; it’s one of those things that makes life worth living.

  I watched the sweat run down the side of the wine-bottle and waited for Mihi to return, meanwhile thinking pleasant thoughts.

  He was back in a few short minutes. Holding a small white plate in his left hand, with another cradled in his left arm; from the expres­sion on his face, you’d think he had not only prepared the delicacies, but had invented the whole concept of dessert. I’ve always liked Mihi.

  The sitting room was dominated by a long, dark table, with or­nate, high-backed wooden chairs placed all around it. They were all standing, waiting for me; the Demon stood in a corner, flanked by his bodyguards and staring off into space as if he were bored by the whole thing. There were six sorceresses in the room, all of them wearing some form of black and gray. One of the sorceresses said, “Sit where you please, Lord Taltos.”

  I picked one of the chairs and sat in it, then gave them all a big smile, and said, “Well! Isn’t this grand!” They all sat down as well, one of the sorceresses I didn’t know sitting at the end to my right, the Demon on the end to my left. His bodyguards stood behind him.

  “Tell Rocza not to grip so hard.”

  “We’re both a little nervous, Boss.”

  “Why?”

  “Couldn’t say.”

  The pain in my shoulder went away.

  The sorceress at the end of the table said, “My name is Caola, Lord Taltos. I would welcome you to my home, but I try to avoid blatant hypocrisy. Why did you wish to speak with us?”

  “Which of you is Triesco?”

  “Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “I am,” said the one seated to the right of Caola.

  “Okay.”

  Caola said, “I ask again, why did you wish to speak with us?”

  “This area,” I said. “South Adrilankha.”

  “What of it?”

  “I’d like to propose a bargain.”

  “Very well, we’ll listen. We’re curious about what you believe you have to bargain with.”

  “That’s a reasonable question.”

  She nodded and waited for me to continue. I wasn’t sure what sort of relationship there was between her and the other sorcer­esses; I knew nothing about the structure of the Left Hand. But it was different than in the Right Hand, at any rate; none of them said a word, or even made a motion. They just sat there and stared, sometimes at me, sometimes at Caola.

  It was actually pretty creepy.

  “What I have to bargain with, is letting all of you out of this room alive, and with your souls intact.”

  A couple of the sorceresses stiffened, the Demon raised an eyebrow, and Caola shrugged. “I think it would be more to the point to ask how you are getting out of here alive.”

  “If you turn down my offer, I don’t expect to.” My hand was about two inches from Lady Teldra. I tapped the hilt. “How many of you will go with me?”

  “I don’t think you’d—”

  “You’re wrong,” I said. “That’s why I wanted the Demon here. You know him, he knows me. Ask him.”

  Caola turned him an inquiring glance.

  He shrugged. “I believe he’d do it, yes.”

  “Interesting,” she said. “All right, Lord Taltos. Let’s hear your proposal.”

  “You pack up and leave South Adrilankha, and agree to stay out until the end of the next Dragon Reign.”

  “Go on.”

  “Your plan for the Council of the Jhereg�
�pardon me, of the Right Hand—has fallen through. You recognize that, and agree to make no objection to the Demon taking that position.”

  “I’m still listening.”

  “That’s it.”

  “Okay. What do we get?”

  “Like I said, that’s it.”

  She stared at me. “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You ask us to abandon our projects, and, in exchange—”

  “Your lives.” She started to say something, but I interrupted. “Lady Caola, you never intended to let me out of this room alive to begin with, did you? So, what’s changed? Let’s start the dance.”

  She stood up and raised her hand, by which time I was out of the chair and rolling on the floor. Loiosh and Rocza launched themselves into the air. I stood up, Lady Teldra out and in front of me. My hand was steady as I held her; my breathing was slow and easy. What would happen, would happen—no point in wor­rying about it.

  Now would be a good time, I thought.

  “Loiosh, wait!”

  “Hunh?”

  “Get back here, both of you.”

  “We’re not going to—”

  “No. We’re not. We wait.”

  “You’re the boss,” he said.

  They circled the room once, making everyone, even the De­mon, flinch a little, then landed on my shoulder again.

  I became aware that a spell had gone up somewhere in the area; a teleport block, no doubt; they didn’t want to just seal the house, they wanted to seal the room. Lady Teldra could break it if I were willing to put some concentration into doing so, and then more concentration into the teleport, as well as removing all my protections.

  Just how effective would the Phoenix Stone be? Of course, it wouldn’t help at all if they decided to drop several hundred pounds of masonry on my head; the most obvious way to sorcer­ously kill someone protected from sorcery. I resisted the tempta­tion to look up.

  These thoughts were removed from me, though. I considered these things, but they didn’t matter—what mattered was the waiting.

  One of the sorceresses put herself between me and the door. Now would be a very good time.

  The Demon was watching me. He hadn’t moved, but his bodyguards had shifted just a bit closer to him. The sorceress called Tri­esco made a very slight motion of her right hand. I shifted the point of Lady Teldra, and the motion stopped.