Hawk (Vlad) (16 page)

He looked over at me, then turned his head back to stare at the ceiling. He was flat on his back, but his eyes were clear. He gave me an appropriate answer.

“I don’t bend that way,” I said. I grabbed the chair, pulled it up next to his bed, sat down, and crossed my legs. “So, how are you feeling?”

He used a bad word.

“Good to hear,” I said.

“You aren’t here to check on my health. What is it?”

“I’m here to check on your health.”

“Right.”

I shrugged. “I can make something else up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d like that. It would help my recovery.”

“Okay. Can I borrow six tablespoons of Eastern red pepper?”

“No.”

“All right.”

“Vlad, do you remember when it meant something to be a Jhereg? When there was honor, and—”

“Kragar?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Seeing if I could convince you I was dying.”

“You had me half convinced you were off your head; does that count?”

“Better than nothing. What have you learned?”

“About what?”

He turned his head to look at me.

“The shiner was a guy named Havric.”

“Hired by?”

“How would I know that?”

“Vlad—”

“Yestac.”

“Don’t know him,” said Kragar. “Can’t think of anything I ever said about his mother.”

“Flatstones,” I said.

“Ah,” said Kragar.

“Yeah,” I said. “That means Krasno.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Kragar. “It means Terion.”

“Huh?”

“Flatstones used to work for Terion, and they’re still close.”

I opened my mouth to ask Kragar how he knew that, then shut it again. Finding out things like that is what Kragar did before I sort of donated the area to him; what possible reason could he have for stopping?

But. Terion.

Not long ago, during a conflict over South Adrilankha, I’d come close to putting a shine on him. I’d started in to do it, too, only, in the end, events had dictated otherwise. Matters had gotten complex. I’d had to—no, never mind. That really is a long story.

The point is, I’d been running into him for years. We didn’t like each other, and we kept getting in each other’s way. Now he’d taken a shot at Kragar, and it would have worked if I hadn’t known one of the Empire’s leading experts in healing magic.

I was suddenly convinced that he was the one who was spending so much money to get me. Because he could. I had no evidence, but I knew I was right.

I was getting tired of the guy.

“Terion,” I said aloud. “He really does seem to keep popping up in my life. Is it personal, do you think?”

“Does it matter?”

“It might. Tactically.”

He shrugged, then winced; I could see him deciding not to do that anymore.

Terion. The guy kept showing up and getting in my way. He didn’t like me. And he could seriously mess up this thing I was working on.

Loiosh spoke into my mind.
“We could, I don’t know, kill him.”

…
You could always kill someone high up in the Organization.

Yeah, and then what? Would I have to kill Krasno too, if they were friends? Could I, in fact, kill either of them? And what would happen afterward? Occasionally, killing someone is the natural culmination of a complex series of events; more often it’s the midpoint—it has repercussions. Consequences flow out from it. When I was just taking someone’s money to do a job, they weren’t my consequences, so I didn’t have to worry. I was just a tool.

But still, this was different. It was all about me, and anything that happened would be my problem. Killing Terion could, for all I knew, set off a chain of events that would be as bad as …

As not killing him.

But I’d already said I needed something to stir up the Jhereg, to distract them.

Well, okay; two reasons to kill him, about ninety against.

“Okay,”
I said.
“Let’s kill him.”

Nothing. Then,
“Boss, you mean it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been waiting for this day. I’m so proud of you. I knew that eventually—”

“Shut up, Loiosh.”

“Shutting up, Boss.”

I looked over at Kragar. “Can I get you anything?” I said.

Sellish cleared his throat.

I looked at him. “Sorry,” I said.

He nodded.

Kragar said, “It’s all right, Vlad. Just don’t make any more trouble for me, all right?” He frowned. “No, forget I said that. I changed my mind. Make more trouble. I’m in a mood.”

“I can do that,” I said.

“Let me know how it comes out.”

“Oh, you’ll hear,” I said, and headed out. The toughs who had escorted me over escorted me back. There was no trouble, but I could see the tension in their shoulders. It was good to get back to Kragar’s office, where I felt safe. Safer. A little safer.

“I think I liked Dzur Mountain better, Boss.”

“Who didn’t? But it’s a bit too far from the action.”

“What action?”

“Killing Terion.”

“Oh, right.”

I was sitting there, trying to work out exactly how I was going to do that, when one of Kragar’s people came up to me. “Sellish says I’m supposed to ask if you need anything,” he said.

A few sarcastic comments came to mind, but he was big and his shoulders were very wide and he was dressed to conceal and I saw no signs that he had a sense of humor.

“What’s your name?”

“Deragar.”

I nodded. “Ever heard of a guy named Terion?”

He nodded. “I know who he is.”

“Can you find out where he lives? Where he goes, and when he goes there? What kind of—”

He was holding out some paper. I took it. Three leaves, closely written, with perfect penmanship. I looked them over. Favorite place to drink and what he liked to drink there. Friends and lovers, where they lived, where he liked to meet them. Who cut his hair, who made his clothes. His bodyguards, and where they lived, and more. Substantially more.

“Yeah,” I said. “Like this.”

“Anything else, m’lord?”

“How did you know—Kragar?”

“Got the message before you showed up, m’lord.”

“Fast work,” I said.

“A good number of us on it, in pieces.”

“He’s gotten good at this,” I remarked. Deragar nodded. I didn’t say so, but I was also thinking that it was a bit scary, how well Kragar knew me.

“All right,” I said. “Let me look this stuff over and get back to you. It was Deragar, right?”

He nodded.

I went into Kragar’s office, started to sit behind his desk, then changed my mind and took the chair on the other side. I studied the information Deragar had gotten.

“What do you think, Boss?”

“I wish Kragar were feeling better. Then I’d ask him to talk to Mario.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah. Bodyguards I can’t buy, sorcery protection, he avoids regular patterns. May be open to witchcraft attacks, but it wouldn’t be easy because he has psychic protections. Very tough.”

“You’ve handled tough before, Boss.”

“I’m out of practice.”

“Yeah, you are.”

I went over the intelligence again.

“Do you think if I asked Aliera very nicely, she’d put me in touch with Mario?”

“Knowing you’d want him to assassinate someone? Not a chance, Boss.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Okay, next idea: Maybe I can pull the deal with the Jhereg without handling Terion.”

“Maybe,”
said Loiosh, sounding deeply and passionately convinced.

“Yeah,”
I agreed.
“Okay, I guess not. But my focus still has to be on pulling off this move.”

“Be harder if you’re dead.”

“Yeah, it—wait. Maybe not.”

“Seriously, Boss? The whole faking-your-own-death thing? Do you really think that will work with these people?”

“What if it isn’t faked?”

“Boss, what are you—you mean like Mellar?”

“Yeah.”

“That seems like a really, really bad idea.”

“Yeah.”

Many years ago—seems like lifetimes ago—when everything was simpler, I had dealt with a complicated problem by arranging for Aliera to be killed by a Morganti blade, gambling that Aliera’s Great Weapon, Pathfinder, would protect her soul. It had worked. Now I had a Great Weapon, Lady Teldra, and I was thinking that I could do the same thing. Faking my death would buy me time to put my plan into action without worrying about the Jhereg trying to kill me.

I tried not to think about the fact that I would have to kind of let myself get stabbed with a Morganti blade to pull it off. I mean, Aliera had done that without blinking; was she any braver than me?

Yes, in fact. A lot braver. But maybe I could do it. Maybe.

“You know, Boss. If that will work, then it will work any time. You don’t have to go out of your way—”

“Aliera said she had to communicate with Pathfinder, to prepare her.”

“Boss, can you communicate with Lady Teldra?”

“Well, no, not exactly. I mean, sometimes it seems like—”

“Boss.”

“You’re saying it’s a bad risk.”

“Boss, even by your usual standards of bad risks, this one is just stupid.”

Okay, well, the fact is I was kind of happy to be talked out of it.
“Loiosh, I have to do something. This sitting around waiting to be shined, right here in the middle of Adrilankha, is—”

“Not much different than it’s been for the last several months?”

I exhaled slowly.
“I suppose you’re right. It’s just now there’s a chance to end it, to get out of this mess.”

“I know.”

I sighed.
“It’s the hard way, isn’t it?”

“Always is, Boss.”

9

M
AKING
M
AGIC
OR
M
AKING
T
ROUBLE

The hard way. Yeah.

The put-it-together-a-piece-at-a-time, taking-my-chances-of-being-shined, and just-fight-it-through way.

All right, then.

“Let me guess, Boss: You need to talk to Daymar again.”

“Soon. I want to make sure I’m clear on what to do next. And I need that hawk’s egg. And the wand.
”

“For what?”

“The egg? I don’t have enough power for the spell—the eavesdropping spell. I need a burst of psychic power.”

“And the wand?”

“One way things might go down involves a sleep spell. The wand will prevent several of those from working.”

“‘Several of those,’”
he repeated. “
And the others?”

“Koelsch leaves.”

“Oh.”

“Also, when we take the next step, things are liable to start popping. We won’t be able to control the pace.”

“Right, Boss. Because, up until now, we’ve had perfect control of everything.”

“Shut up.”

So, okay: I had enough clinking stuff, and the lockpick, and the hawk’s egg and the wand should arrive soon. I opened up the book of Imperial trade laws (volume nine, it said) I’d gotten from Perisil, and went over the significant passage again. It was not exciting.

I was still doing that when I received word that Daymar had arrived in the office, and would like to see me. I offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Verra and told them to send him in.

Daymar entered, ignoring the various tough guys standing around, and walked up to me. He declined refreshment, and placed a brown egg, mostly round, and about a quarter of the diameter of my palm, on the table in front of me.

“That’s it?” I said.

“No,” said Daymar. “That’s a wood carving of a dragon, actual size.”

“Wow, Boss. Sarcasm from Daymar.”

“I know. My whole view of the world is turned on its head.”

I picked up the egg and studied it. It was warm, reminding me of Loiosh’s egg, so very long ago. It was almost weightless in my hand, and felt fragile; like I might break it if my finger twitched. I set it down again.

“Loiosh, can you feel anything from it?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You can feel a lot of—of whatever it is? Energy? Latent psychic power?”

“Yeah, Boss. A lot.”

“It won’t retain its potency more than a few days,” said Daymar.

“That’ll be enough,” I said. “Um. Any chance you got two? I’d like to practice this spell.”

“How soon?”

“A day?”

He shook his head.

“Okay. It should work. Thanks.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“The wand?”

“I ought to be able to get, uh, to get it by tomorrow. I didn’t forget about it. Is that all?”

I hesitated, wishing I’d remembered to do the spell when I had the amulet off. I could remove the amulet yet again, or I could ask Morrolan to do it.

But Daymar was here, and—

“I’m not sure if this is something you can do,” I said.

He an arched an eyebrow at me.

“I mean,” I said, “that it’s a witch thing. It’s the sort of thing witchcraft is really good at. But I can’t do any because of this amulet.”

“You took it off a few hours ago,” observed Daymar.

“Yeah, I was mad.”

“Oh. Couldn’t you have done this other thing then, since you had it off anyway?”

“No, it would have been an inauspicious time, because of the mystical fields of, well, it’s an Eastern religious thing.”

“I see. Well, what would you like me to do?”

“Exert a subtle influence on someone, without his being aware of it.”

“Ah,” said Daymar. He considered for a moment. “Just invade his mind enough to help him make a decision the way you want?”