Jhereg (31 page)

"Ha! I've thought about quitting the Jhereg a great deal, but so far I've always managed to be just a little bit quicker than whoever wanted me out."

"Or luckier," said Kragar.

I shrugged. "As for leaving voluntarily, I don't know."

Morrolan looked at me carefully. "You don't actually
enjoy
what you do, do you?" I didn't answer, not really knowing at the time. I mean, did I? Especially now, when my biggest reason, my hatred for all things Dragaeran, turned out not to have the cause I had thought it did. Or did it?

"You know, Aliera," I said, "I'm still not really sure about this genetic inheritance through the soul. I mean, sure, I felt something for it, but I also lived through what I lived through, and I guess that shaped me more than you'd think. I am what I am, in addition to what I was. Do you understand what I mean?"

Aliera didn't answer; she just looked at me, her face unreadable. An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, as we all sat there with our thoughts. Kragar studied the floor, Cawti caressed my forehead, Morrolan seemed to be looking around for another subject.

He found one, finally, and broke the silence by saying, "There is still a thing that I fail to understand, concerning you and Rocza."

"What is that?" I asked, as relieved as everyone else.

He studied the floor in front of the couch. "Exactly how do you plan on housebreaking her?"

I felt myself going red as the odor reached my nose, and Morrolan wryly called for his servants.