Hawk (Vlad) (26 page)

Or you spend even more on enchanting the windows so they don’t break.

I gave the window an experimental smack with my fist. It hardly even vibrated.

“All right, so—”

“Watch and learn,”
I said.

I ran my fingers over the place where the window was joined to the wall—a wood frame had been set into the stone, and ingenious slots cut into it to hold the window in place.

Those of us in the business call that a “weak spot.”

The process was a lot longer and slower than I had expected. For one thing, there was this strange glue-like substance between glass and wood that I had to scrape away. Every time my knife tapped the window it made a ringing sound that was not unpleasant but made me worry about breaking it until I remembered that it was unbreakable. Which was the reason for doing this, after all.

But in the end, it was done—the window would come out with a good push, and from there I’d be just a few feet from the cliff, and there were stairs cut into the cliff.

“Sleep now,”
I said.

“Yeah, after a long walk back into the City.”

“Who’s whining now?”

It was, indeed, a long and wearying walk, but we made it back, using the tunnel again. I said not a word to anyone; I just trudged into the storage room I was using, threw myself onto my pile of blankets, and went to sleep.

I had an intense dream that night—or rather, morning—but I don’t remember much about it except that there were wheelbarrows, and I don’t see how it relates to anything, so skip it.

I woke up with one of those surges of adrenaline you get on the day something big is going to happen—you know, you gradually wake up to a certain point, and then,
This is the day. Here we go.
I heaved myself up to a sitting position without even a grunt, and found Loiosh looking at me. He said nothing into my mind. I felt his fear and anticipation—a reflection of mine, and yet still his own—echoing back and forth.

I pulled myself up. I cleaned up in Kragar’s private washroom (that used to be mine) and got dressed. No, my hands weren’t shaking, and yes, my palms were dry. I went through every weapon I had, carefully, checking the edge, and that it was just where it should be, and that I could pull it cleanly. From time to time, I tapped Lady Teldra’s hilt, which was going to become an annoying habit if I let it; but it was very reassuring.

“Food, Boss?”

“Oh, yes. And klava. I’m going to have a full stomach and be wide awake when, you know.”

“Good plan.”

I went out into the office, hoping Deragar was there so I could get him to bring food and klava. He was there, and so was Sellish, but they weren’t alone.

“Kragar!”

“You see, you noticed me right away.”

He looked pale and fragile, but he was sitting upright in Melestav’s old chair.

“How are you?”

“Not ready to fall over dead quite yet. How about you?”

“Probably closer than you are.”

“Probably.”

“You didn’t have to agree so fast.”

“How’s your problem?”

“Nearing a solution.”

“I heard that Terion had an accident.”

“Yeah, I heard the same thing.”

He nodded.

“Deragar’s been great,” I added.

“Aw, shucks,” said Deragar.

“Yeah, I raised him right,” said Kragar.

“You—”

I looked back and forth between them.

“Oh,” I said.

Kragar smirked.

“How about you get him to bring us breakfast and klava while I recover and try to adopt this into my view of the universe.”

Kragar and Sellish nodded solemnly. “We were just waiting for you. Though it’ll be lunch for us.”

Deragar rolled his eyes, reminding me more than ever of Kragar. “What, then?”

“Just some rolls, and a lot of klava, for Vlad. For me, you know what I like. Get something good,” said Kragar.

“Hot sweet rolls?” he asked me.

I nodded.

“All right. I’m including myself in the list, though, and you’re buying.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” said Kragar.

Some coins changed hands, and Deragar left. Kragar started to stand up, failed, looked disgusted and gave me a glance. I helped him up. He hissed with pain, and I guided him to his own office. As he sat down, I said, “You sure you’re out of danger?”

“How do you mean that?”

“I mean, are you about to fall over dead from the wound? I didn’t intend to ask if the world was a safe place for Jhereg bosses, so don’t even start.”

He chuckled and said, “I saw the physicker this morning, and he says I’m doing all right. And he seems to think Aliera is some sort of god.”

“So does Aliera.”

“Yeah. But she does good work. Don’t tell her I said so.”

“Of course not; she’d pound me into dust.”

“She would at that. I wish I’d been able to hear the conversation when you convinced her to save me.”

That was a good time not to say anything, so I gave him my best inscrutable smile and let it drop. Instead, I asked him a few more times about how he was feeling until he started to get annoyed, then I let that drop, too. He wanted to talk about my plans, and if he could help, and I didn’t want to and he couldn’t—at least, any more than he had by loaning me Deragar. He looked like he wanted to argue about it, and I understood how he was feeling, but he just shut his mouth and nodded.

Deragar came back, with klava that made life possible, and some sweet buns that made it worth living. No, sarcasm aside, life is always worth living. Even when sometimes it seems like more trouble than it’s worth.

Oh, who am I kidding? It’s when it seems like more trouble than it’s worth that I want it the most. I mean, isn’t everyone like that? No, I suppose not. Some people just seem miserable all the time, even when they have no reason to be, and my attitude is to just let them stew in it, as long they stay clear of me. That is, unless it’s someone I know, then it’s different.

When have you ever heard me claim to be consistent? Or, for that matter, claim there was any virtue in consistency? I’m just telling you what happened, and what I was thinking, because that’s what I’m being paid for. Don’t read too much into it, all right? There’s one good thing about needing to devote all of your energy to staying alive: It doesn’t give you a lot of time to waste on crap that isn’t worth thinking about.

Fresh rolls and klava, now—there was something worth thinking about. Sellish took his away because he had stuff to do. The three of us enjoyed the rolls and klava in silence.

When we’d finished, I asked one question: “What is the time?”

“It’s an hour before noon,” said Kragar, giving me a significant look. “What time do things get started?”

“I should find out within the next two hours.”

“You didn’t make firm arrangements?”

“I left the exact time and place open, so the client would feel more at ease.”

He rubbed chin with the side of his fist. “So you can’t make any real preparations.”

“Yeah, I’ve already prepped the place.”

His eyebrows asked me a question.

I said, “I just sort of somehow know where he’s going to pick.”

“You’re sure?”

I shrugged. “Nothing is sure in this, but that isn’t one of the parts I’m most worried about.”

“I’d ask,” he said, “but you wouldn’t tell me.”

“Correct.”

“And I loathe giving you another chance to display your wit.”

“Have you been reading books?”

“What?”

I shook my head and wiped my fingers on my shirt. We had more klava, and I don’t remember what we talked about, but I’m sure it was terribly important. Just about exactly noon, a messenger arrived with a note for me from the Demon.

I read it, nodded, folded it up, and tapped it against my hand.

“Well?” said Kragar. “Is that it?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“Good and bad.”

“Hmmm?”

“It’s where I wanted, but not for another six hours. What am I supposed to do for the next six hours?”

“Yeah,” he said smirking. “You’ve already eaten.”

I suggested he perform a rather disgusting quasi-sexual act; he allowed as to how that would pass the time, at least. Deragar tried not to laugh.

Loiosh sat on my shoulder, shifting from foot to foot; he was nervous too. Kragar pulled out a set of s’yang stones. I shook my head; he shrugged and put it back.

“Well,” he said, “any pieces of it you want to talk about? Holes you want to fill in? Really stupid parts I can laugh at?”

“Loiosh is handling that,” I told him. “The laughing at me, I mean.”

“So, business as usual.”

“Pretty much.”

“What are you going to do if it doesn’t work? I mean, are you going to just die? Do you have a backup plan?”

Once more, I thought about just taking Lady Teldra and killing as many of them as I could before they got me. But … “No,” I said.

He waited.

“Kragar, what are you really asking?”

“If there’s some reason to believe I didn’t go through all this for nothing.”

He looked unusually serious.

“I can’t promise that. But you’ll know within a few hours, one way or the other.”

“Yeah, but Vlad, has it occurred to you that, if they kill you, I’m probably next?”

“Uh, no. Why do you think that? If they’ve left you alive all this time—I mean, I know Terion tried not to, but—”

“It’s not Terion, Vlad. Think about it. I was your number two. I’ve been helping you. Why am I still alive?”

“Because you’re very hard to kill.”

“They could manage.”

I bit my thumb and thought about it. “You think they’re deliberately keeping you alive because they think you’ll lead them to me?”

“That’s my guess.”

“Why are you only telling me now?”

“I hadn’t thought about it until I was lying on my back unable to move. Amazing what it does for the brain.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”

His eyebrows looked a question, but I didn’t answer.

“The Demon,” I said, “agreed that it would be over if this all works out.”

“Yeah,” said Kragar. “So you said. For you. Not for me.”

I made a theologically improbable suggestion. Then I said, “I never thought about that.”

“Me neither,” he said. “Until today.”

I noticed I was biting my lower lip and stopped.

“Don’t get me wrong, Vlad. I don’t mind risking my ass for you. I’ve been doing it for almost fifteen years now. But I like to have some idea of what it’s about.”

I looked for something to say, came up empty. “Okay,” I said. “I’ve been collecting—”

“Wait a minute, Vlad.”

“What?”

“I didn’t mean you actually had to unreel the whole thing for me.”

“Oh. Well, you made a pretty good argument for it.”

“I just want to know how you’re so sure the Demon isn’t going to sell you out.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that. I mean, that’s sort of the key to the whole thing, isn’t it?”

“What I know about the Demon is that he’s going to want the process, because there’s just an absurd amount of money in it. I don’t believe he’s capable of passing that up.”

He shook his head. “I just worry that you’re too trusting.”

“That I’m—what?”

“Too trusting.”

“Kragar, who have I shown misplaced trust in as long as you’ve known me?”

“Melestav,” he said.

I winced. That one still hurt. “You know, Kragar, of all the things I’ve been accused of over the years, I never expected to hear that I was too trusting.”

“Don’t see why not,” he said. “You are. And everyone in the world can see it except you.” Deragar watched us go back and forth like someone watching kittens play—with a sort of tolerant amusement that I’d have done something about if I hadn’t been busy.

“Too trusting,” I said. “Yeah, that’s my problem.” I rolled my eyes. “I admit, I trust people to be true to their nature. So far, that’s worked out pretty well for me.”

“Okay, Vlad. Let’s look at the facts.”

“Facts? You must be really desperate if you’re resorting to facts. All right, I’m listening.”

“First of all, you trusted me.”

“It seems like—”

“You trusted me a long time before you knew me enough to.”

“What did I trust you with? I mean, early on?”

“Almost everything you were doing.”

“Such as?”

“The name of your contact with Morrolan’s security forces. That you’d killed Loraan. That you’d personally killed Laris—the Empire would have loved to hear about that. That—”

“Did you really consider telling them?”

“Of course not, Vlad. That isn’t the point. The point is, you’re too trusting.”

“I was young, then.”

“And now you’re not? You’re still under five hundred. If you weren’t human that would mean you’re young.”

“Heh,” I explained. “What else you got?”

He continued giving examples of my supposed over-trusting nature, some of which may have been valid, and I continued arguing until I finally got tired of it and said, “So, Kragar, because of this, you’re convinced the Demon—or someone else in the Organization—is going to put a shine on you as soon as this is over?”

“I didn’t say I was convinced, Vlad.”

“But you think so?”

“Most likely not.”

“Wait. You
don’t
think so?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been too good an earner. If I go down, everyone up the ladder from me loses.”

“Well then, why have you been—wait. You’ve just been doing all of this to take my mind off the six-hour wait, haven’t you, you asshole?”

“It’s not six hours anymore.” He smirked.

“C’mon, Boss. It was well played. Admit it.”

“You knew what he was doing the whole time, didn’t you?”

“Nothing good can come out of me answering that question, Boss.”

“Suddenly,” I said, “I feel like killing someone.”

“You’ll probably have the chance,” said Kragar.

“Probably.”

“Hungry again?”

“No. How much time did you manage to kill?”

“A couple of hours.”

“It’ll take me an hour to get there.”