Dzur (16 page)

"Vlad!"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you hear what you're saying?"

I sighed. "Yeah, well. With luck, she isn't listening. Actually, the way I'm feeling right now, I half hope she is."

"Not before I have a chance to get clear of the neighborhood, please." I shrugged.

He said, "About this memory stuff. How do you know the Goddess is behind it?"

"I just know."

"You just know."

"Yeah."

"What sort of things-?"

"It's little stuff, but it's stuff that . . . well, did I ever tell you that I had been to the Paths of the Dead?"

He stared at me, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. "No, you somehow didn't mention that."

I nodded. "It was several years ago, and-"

"Why? Not to mention, how?"

"It was business-related."

"Some business you're in."

"Yeah, I've had that same thought from time to time. Any-way, I visited the Paths of the Dead, and there are pieces of that journey that keep going away and coming back. Pieces I shouldn't be able to forget."

"Heh. Go figure."

"Another time, I got into a jam, and called on her."

"I've done that. Did she answer?"

"Yes."

He stared at me again. "Vlad, that isn't a joke, is it?"

"No."

He sat back in his chair. "You have some sort of life, my friend."

"I guess. Anyway, there are pieces of that visit-"

"Visit?"

"Yeah, odd word choice, I guess. She brought me to her halls. Or else she made me think she had, which comes out to the same thing, I suppose. And there are pieces of that visit that I've only just started remembering."

"Like what?"

"She cut my palm."

"Huh?"

"While I was talking to her, she took a knife, had me hold out my left hand, and made a cut on my palm. Then she collected some of the blood in a sort of vial or something. I don't know what she did with it."

"So, she has some of your blood."

"Yes."

"She is supposed to be a goddess of witches."

"No, that's one of her sisters."

"You sure?"

"Sure? Dealing with the Demon Goddess? I'm not sure about anything."

"The beginning of wisdom. What else?"

"Isn't that enough?"

He flashed a smile and waited for me to continue.

"Near Deathgate Falls is a statue of Kieron the Conqueror, a general from the early days of-"

"I know who he is."

"Okay. Well, the fellow I was with-a Dragon-prostrated himself before the statue. Then, a little later, he started talking, mumbling, like he was having a conversation with it. Then he got up, and said he knew how to get through the Paths, which he hadn't before."

"Hmmm. Okay."

"Well, you see, I didn't remember any of that until a couple of years later."

He nodded. "I can see where that would be upsetting."

"Yeah, well, so that's what's been going on."

"Is there more?"

I shrugged. "Now and then, a few little things come back. It's-"

"Upsetting," he said.

I nodded. "You tend to think of what's inside your head as your own, no matter what anything else is. Even Kiera can't steal that."

"Who ?"

"Never mind. The point is, it keeps messing with me. Every time I think about it, I get distracted, and mad, and I want to find the Goddess and, well, you know."

"Any practical effects?"

"Hmmm?"

"Other than how you feel about it, have you forgotten any-thing that mattered?"

"Well, that's just it. I don't know. I need to...." I tried to find the words. He waited. "With what I do, I need to have confidence in my decisions. I need to find out everything I can, and then come up with a plan of action that's as good as I can contrive. That's how I operate."

"I understand that."

"Well, but the thing is, now I can't be sure if there are important things I don't know. And worse, what if it isn't just memories? What if the, I don't know, the mechanism of my thinking has been messed with? How can I commit to any sort of action, when I can't be sure if the Goddess hasn't been screwing around with how I make decisions?"

"Why would she do that?"

"Why would she do anything? How should I know? Maybe she has plans for me."

He gave a humorless laugh. "That's a comforting thought."

"Uh huh. But, you see the problem."

He nodded. "Did you know my people were peasants?"

"Hmmm?"

"When I was boy, we worked the land not twenty miles from here, for Lady Drenta."

"Okay. . . ."

"One day Pa sent me out to plow a furrow. He put me at the right spot, then pointed to our old nag, Chalkie. He said, `Start here and aim at for where Chalkie is. But Rico-' I said, `Yeah, Pa?' Ìf Chalkie moves, you're going to have to change your mark." He laughed, and I gave him a courtesy chuckle.

A little later, he heaved a contented sigh, and pushed back from the table. I nodded, and we headed back to his place, where he made up a list with names, addresses, and best time to find each one.

"Thanks, Ric."

"Will you let me know how it all turns out?"

"If you hear I'm dead, it didn't work so well." He shook his head. "I guess, all in all, I'm glad I do what I do, not what you do."

"Proving," I said, "that you aren't a Dzur."

"I'm not sure what that means, but guess it's good."

"It's good," I said. "And good to see you again, Ric."

"You too. And Vlad-"

"Yeah?"

"It's easy to consider everyone a sucker who cares about things you don't care about. So who does that make the sucker?"

"Uh, I don't see what that connects to."

"No, but you probably will before I do."

I wished him a good evening.

I ducked into the first public house I came to in order to read the list. The first thing that surprised me was that I knew South Adrilankha better than 1 thought I did. I mean, he had notations like, "Third house south of Wrecked Bridge, on the east," and I knew at once where that was. There were a couple I could see right now, and I had no reason to delay.

"Still staying with me, chum?"

"What else is there to do? I don't like this business of you wandering around without me."

"I don't like it much, either. Once this is over-"

"Yeah."

Someone named Ernest was usually home in the evening, and didn't live too far away. In the City, there were globes at various points to provide light; I'd gotten so used to them that I never thought about them. Here, though, the only light was what spilled out from houses, public and private. It was enough to keep me from tripping over ruts and dips in the road and from stumbling into people, but not much more. Still, from Ric's description, I was able to find it: one of those place built to hold ten families of Easterners in the same space that would hold maybe three Dragaeran families. And families of Easterners are usually bigger. I went to what should be the right door and hit it with my fist. After a moment, the door opened a crack, a pair of eyes peered out, and someone said, "Yes?"

"Ernest? My name is Sandor, and I'm a friend of Ric."

"A friend of who?"

"Ricard. The cimbalon player."

"Oh!"

The door opened more and he grinned. "Come on in. If you're a friend of Ricard, you must have brought something to drink."

"Actually, I didn't, but I'll buy you one, if you'd like."

"I'll get my coat."

It crossed my mind that if I kept buying drinks for people at this rate, I wasn't going to be good for much by the end of the day. But if you're going to be dealing with Ricard, and people Ricard knows, you had best be ready for serious drinking. If I dared remove the amulet, I could do a sobering spell. If I dared remove the amulet, a lot of problems wouldn't even exist. I mentally shrugged; I was all right at the moment. We found a place, sat down in a back corner, and I bought him a brandy and water. I had a mug of bad pilsner, so I could nurse it. "Thanks," he said.

I nodded. He was short and stocky, with big shoulders that made his arms hang out, and had the same look in his eyes as those Orca punks who used to beat me up just because they could. I instinctively didn't like him. To the left, there must be something decent about him, or he wouldn't be Ric's friend. But then again, maybe Ric was hoping he'd get killed.

"My name is Sandor. Ric gave me your name, because I need some help with a project, and I have some money to throw around to get it done."

"Oh? How much money?"

"A fair bit."

"What's-"

"Maybe we should talk about what I want you to do, and then, if you think you like the idea, we'll try to work out the money." He shrugged. "All right."

"I know you know who the Jhereg are. Have you ever heard of the Left Hand of the Jhereg?"

"No."

"Good."

"Who are they?"

"They're sort of like the Jhereg, but they use magic, and are involved in different sorts of things."

"Like what?"

"That's what I want you to find out."

"Huh?

"I need someone-actually, a few people-to find out what they're up to."

"I don't know," he said. "I've never-"

"I hadn't thought you had. I'll tell you what to do."

"What sort of, I mean-"

"I need you to ask around, without making a big deal out of it. But, you know, talk to friends, pick up gossip, that sort of thing."

"Uh, how exactly? I mean, who do I talk to? Who would know?"

"I'll point a few people out to you, people called runners. Once you-"

"Runners?"

"People who run errands for them, and deliver things to them. Once you know who they are, you sort of hang around them, see if they feel like talking to you. Or you find people they are talking to, and talk to them. Pick up whatever you can."

"Yeah, okay. I know what you mean."

"Do you think you can do that, without letting anyone know ou're trying to get information?"

"I think so. What happens if I get caught?"

"You don't get paid."

"I mean, will they do anything to me?"

"No, I wouldn't think so. They aren't like the Jhereg, they aren't inclined to hurt people. Also, there is the matter of getting the information to me."

"Hmm?"

"Well, I can't have you and several others just coming to me in the open, one after another. It will attract attention."

"Oh. What do we do then?"

"Do you know your symbols?"

"Sure."

"Then what you do is write out anything you need to report, and you leave it outside of your bedroom window, pinned in place with, I don't know-"

"A stickpin?"

"That would work."

"Then what?"

"I'll arrange to have it picked up."

"Oh, so I get the glamorous work again?"

"Shut up, Loiosh."

Ernest nodded.

"I think that's it, then. Interested?"

His mouth worked. "How much?" he said at last. There are advantages to having a lot of money. He agreed. Over the next couple of days, I had that same conversation eleven more times. None of them said no. After that, it was a matter of pointing out the runners to them, emphasizing the importance of not letting it be apparent what they were doing, and setting them to work.

By the time I had finished instructing the last of them, information was only starting to trickle in from the first of them. It would be a while before I had enough to be useful, and, by that time, I needed to have a more solid background. I did something I'd never had to before: my own research. I crossed over to the City, and, still in disguise, I made my way into the Imperial library.

I worked my way down to the history section, settled in, and started studying.

10

A young man I didn't know came by and removed the plates with the remains of the fish, then returned a moment later and gave us each a slightly smaller plate. Then Mihi returned with a large wooden bowl, and a pair of wooden spoons.

Valabar's has several salads. Today's was a combination of the round and the tall, broad-leaf kinds of lettuce, along with flatnuts, blanched tomato wedges, soul of palm, pimentos, scallions, and artichoke heart marinated in sweet vinegar, which functioned as a dressing. A grated nithlan cheese-sharp and musky-was shredded over it, and the whole thing was topped with candied rose petals.

Mihi dished it up with his usual matter-of-fact fluid elegance, and my mouth was watering.

"What are those?" asked Te1nan.

"Candied rose petals."

"Candied rose petals?"

"Yep."

"Is that a term for something, or are they actually rose petals?"

"They're actually rose petals. Candied."

"Very lightly candied," said Mihi. "They aren't too sweet?' "Uh ..:'

"Just eat it," I said. "Trust me."

"All right."

He took a forkful, a dubious expression on his face. I blissfully dived into my own.

After a while, I said, "Well?"

"Hmmm?"

"How is it?"

He swallowed. "It's wonderful?'

I wished I had someone like Kragar to kick the information around with; he was always an excellent sounding board. In some ways, that's what I missed the most. I could always talk to Loiosh, of course, but Loiosh's job involved keeping my emotions balanced, not working over information and helping me look for patterns. Something about the way the reptilian brain works, I suppose.

But I didn't want to bring Kragar in on this, which not only left me on my own as the information trickled in, but left me spending hours at the Imperial library learning things I could have had him get for me. It did give me a bit more of an appreciation for the sort of legwork I always used to assign him. If I ever spoke with him again, I'd have to mention that.

No, I wouldn't.

But I did learn things.

The Imperial library is not, in fact, organized so you can, say, go to the far corner of the third subbasement and find a book called Here Is What the Left Hand of the Jhereg Is Up To. It isn't even organized so you can find the history of the Left Hand of the Jhereg. In fact, I'm told that in comparison with various university libraries, it isn't even organized. And, to make matters worse, the librarians tend not to be excessively helpful to Easterners; I got looks that ranged from the mildly puzzled to the downright unfriendly.