by Steven Brust
Now. Now would be good.
I tried to watch everywhere at once. Even with Loiosh and Rocza helping, that was difficult. Someone was going to move, and then I was going to move, and then there would be blood. They must know about the Phoenix Stone, they had to take it into account. Either they could get around it, or neutralize it, or outright destroy it.
I watched myself stand there, waiting, and wondered why I wasn’t scared.
There was a sound somewhere behind me, outside the room; a scuffle, a muffled cry, a thud.
Could it be ...?
I heard the door opening.
Everyone’s attention was suddenly focused on a point behind my left shoulder. And then I felt the presence of his weapon, and there was longer any doubt: the pure raw essence of the predator. I had been in the room when Blackwand was unsheathed, and I had always thought of that as being some sort of limit—that nothing could strike the mind as more vicious, more powerful. But this was something new.
Everyone felt it; even the Demon tensed up.
All the sorceresses stood up, stepped back, and began making various sorts of motions with their fingers, in some cases with ornate-looking daggers.
“Boss—”
“Is it him?”
“How did you know he—”
“He couldn’t help it.”
“But did he find—”
“He had a dream. I made a deal with the Demon Goddess.”
“You know, Boss, you aren’t as stupid as everyone says you are.”
“Hi there, Vlad. How are things?”
“Well enough, Telnan. Thanks for dropping by.”
“My pleasure.”
Caola stared at him. I’m thinking she badly wanted to ask how he’d managed to get past her teleport blocks, but she of course wouldn’t. I was still watching the sorceress; I didn’t turn around to look at the Dzur.
“Now, Vlad,” said Telnan, “you just make your way out the door, while I keep these charm—”
“No, I don’t think so.”
There was a very loud silence behind me.
After a moment, I said, “I think we’re going out of here together.”
They were all staring at him, except for the Demon, who was looking at me with an expression of wry approval, like I’d done something clever.
“Vlad, I came here—”
“I know, Telnan. It’s a Dzur thing. But I’m a Jhereg. We go out together.”
Caola said, “I don’t think you go out of here at all.” Caola looked at me, and I felt Telnan do the same. I hefted Lady Teldra.
“There are two of us,” I said. “And a bunch of you. I like our odds.”
“I don’t calculate odds,” she said.
I shrugged. “Up to you.”
Me, I did calculate odds. I wasn’t all that crazy about mine, but Telnan and I would certainly take some of them with us. The question was: Could Caola back down in front of her people? I knew that no one on our side of the Jhereg could afford to under these circumstances. Could she?
“Vlad,” said Telnan. “I really wish you’d let me do this.”
“Think of it as a good chance to practice not getting your own way.”
“I’m not good at that.”
“That’s why you need the practice.”
There was a sigh behind me. “All right. Think we can take them all? If I can’t die heroically, outnumbered and all that, I’d just as soon win.”
“Maybe. I wouldn’t care to bet this one either way. What do you think, Demon?”
“Me? I’m just here as an observer.”
“I know. But how do you like the odds?”
“Could go either way,” he said. “Not that it matters. If they don’t take you down here, we’ll do it later. Nothing personal, but we aren’t all that concerned about who puts the shine on you, so long as it happens the right way.”
“Makes sense,” I said.
I shifted my eyes to Caola and raised my brows. “Your call,” I told her. “Doesn’t much matter to me.”
“Or to me, really,” she said. “As your associate from the Right Hand pointed out, now or later. It’s all the same.”
“Yeah.”
She studied me.
“All right,” said Caola at last. “You can go. We’ll postpone—”
“No!” said Triesco.
Caola turned to her. “Sit down.”
“I—”
“Sit down, Triesco.”
She sat. Caola said, “You—”
“He killed one of our sisters, and destroyed her soul. And arranged for another. He will die. At least.”
I cleared my throat. “I’d like to point out that she was in the process of trying to kill me.”
Caola ignored me and spoke to Triesco. “Yes, he will. But not just now.”
“I want—”
“There will be another time,” said Caola.
I do not doubt that Triesco had many talents; but one talent she didn’t have was concealing her rage. At least, she couldn’t do it just then. Eventually, she managed a nod.
“Okay,” I said. “Another time, then. But for now, I want to be clear on this. You—” I nodded to Caola, “—and your people, are out of South Adrilankha, and out of the business of the Council.”
“Agreed,” she said coolly.
“Good.”
“What else?”
“And my friend and I get to walk out of here.”
“Yes. What else?”
“That’s all.”
“Agreed,” she said.
There was an almost inaudible hiss from Triesco, and the sounds of some shifting and moving, but no one actually said anything.
“Good.”
“Don’t think you’ve won,” said Caola. “This isn’t over.”
“Do I look like I’m gloating?” I said.
“Then get out.”
I nodded.
I turned and walked out the door, Telnan behind me. The air outside tasted sweet. Epilogue: Ailor Dessert Wine
“You know,” said Telnan, “I really like this place.”
“Glad you approve.”
He belched. In some Eastern societies, I’m told that’s a compliment. I was taught to excuse myself. Dragaerans just ignored it.
“Thank you, Telnan,” I said.
“Oh, it wasn’t for you. It’s just the food—”
“No, not for belching. For helping me understand that I am not now, never have been, nor ever will be, a Dzur.”
“You were worried about that?”
“Not especially.”
“Oh. Well, you’re welcome. I’m glad Sethra sent me along.”
“Me too,” I said, lifting my glass in his direction, and drinking.
The wine that goes with the dessert is always the same: an Ailor, served chilled. How can I describe the product of the Ailor Vineyards of Fenario? Poems have been written to it, and that isn’t my skill. For my part, I’ll say that I’d have thought it impossible for anything to be that sweet without being cloying. The saying in the East is “Ailor is not created with magic, it is magic.” In the original Fenarian, that rhymes.
And it would take ten poets to describe the sensation of the wine with the palaczinta.
Words fail me.
I said, “Where is the child now?”
“With Norathar.”
“Can I see him?”
“Vlad ...”
“Hmm?”
“Are you certain you wish to?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, you’re going to be leaving.”
“I know. But still. Yes, I’m sure.”
She nodded. “I will arrange for the child to be brought here so you can meet him.”
“Here?” I chuckled. “I think Kragar will be amused to have his office turned into a nursery. What have you named him?”
“Vlad Norathar.”
I swallowed. Something about hearing the name made it all real. “Does Noish-pa
know?”
“Of course. I informed him by the post as soon as I was able.”
“Able? Oh. Was the, uh, birth difficult?”
“No. Aliera was there. It was easy and nearly painless.”
“Good. I wish I’d been there too.”
“What are you going to do now?” she said.
“See my son.”
She pretended not to hear what my voice did when I said that. “I meant, after.”
“Oh. I’m going to keep moving, I guess. Nothing is resolved.”
“Where to?”
“You really want to know?”
“No, I guess it’s best if I don’t.”
I nodded.
“I understand Sethra’s Dzurlord saved you.”
“Yeah.”
“How’d you like being saved?”
“About as well as you liked having me solve your problem for you.”
“Yeah, that was going to be my point.”
“I know.”
“Vlad ...”
“Yes?”
“Nothing. I’ll go get the child.”
I nodded.
I should go visit my grandfather. Vlad Norathar’s great-grandfather. Yes, I could do that.
I could do a lot of things.
I could do anything.
Well, anything that didn’t involve being in Adrilankha; and anything that I could do with that amulet around my neck. And as long as I stayed on the move.
I wondered how long I could stand it.
“Where is Cawti?”
“Hello, Kragar. I didn’t notice you come in. Isn’t that remarkable?”
“Amazing. Where is Cawti.”
“Getting my son.”
“Getting your ... okay.”
I nodded. “Put it all together, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t that difficult. Can I meet the boy as well?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
“Then I’ll take you to Valabar’s.”
“Think that’s smart?”
“Of course not.”
“You can always go in disguise.”
I shrugged. “I’ll take the chance. It’s the Dzur in me.”
“Nothing personal, Vlad, but I don’t think there’s much Dzur in you.”
“No, there isn’t, in fact. Dzurlords are all about standing alone. I’m all about having friends. That’s why I’m taking you to Valabar’s.”
“Okay”
“And I’ll introduce you to my friend Ric. I promised to let him know next time I went. Assuming that you don’t mind being seen with two Easterners.”
“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.
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