by Steven Brust
“Who will notice me?”
“The waiters, I hope.”
“Good point.”
“You, Sethra, Kiera, Aliera, Daymar, Mario, Morrolan . . .”
“Hmm?”
“It’s good to have friends.”
“Uh huh. What will you do after that?”
“Get out of town. Alive, if possible.”
“Have a destination in mind? Not that I’m asking what it is.”
“Yes, in general, I guess.”
“Sooner or later, Vlad, you’ll have to settle things with the Jhereg.”
“And the Left Hand.”
“Yes, and the Left Hand.”
“At the moment, I only see one way of ‘settling’ that might work out, and that isn’t a way that pleases me much.”
“I can’t imagine why not.”
“Heh.”
“I mean it, Vlad. This will have to be settled.”
“Not today. Today I have to meet my son.”
He nodded.
I heard sharp footsteps outside of the door, and recognized them as Cawti’s. Kragar stood up. “I’ll see you in a while, Vlad.”
I tried to speak, but couldn’t, so I nodded.
My hands were shaking.