My grandfather, in teaching me fencing, used to make me stand for minutes at a time, watching for the movement of his blade that would give me an opening. I suspect that he knew full well that he was teaching me more than fencing.
When the moment came, I was ready.
HER EYES FLUTTERED OPEN, but she didn’t focus on anything. I decided that she was better looking alive than she’d been dead. Morrolan and I stood there for a moment, then he said softly, “Aliera?”
Her eyes snapped to him. There was a pause before her face responded; when it did she seemed puzzled. She started to speak, stopped, cleared her throat, and croaked, “Who are you?”
He said, “I’m your cousin. My name is Morrolan e’Drien. I am the eldest son of your father’s youngest sister.”
“Morrolan,” she repeated. “Yes. That would be the right sort of name.” She nodded as if he’d passed a test. I took in Morrolan’s face, but he seemed to be keeping any expression off it. Aliera tried to sit up, failed, and her eyes fell on me; narrowed. She turned to Morrolan and said, “Help me.”
He helped her to sit up. She looked around. “Where am I?”
“The Halls of Judgment,” said Morrolan.
Surprise. “I’m dead?”
“Not anymore.”
“But—”
“I’ll explain,” said Morrolan.
“Do so,” said Aliera.
“Those two must be related,” I told Loiosh. He sniggered.
“What is the last thing you remember?”
She shrugged, a kind of one-shoulder-and-tilt-of-the-head thing that was almost identical to Morrolan’s. “It’s hard to say.” She closed her eyes. We didn’t say anything. A moment later she said. “There was a strange whining sound, almost above my audible range. Then the floor shook, and the ceiling and walls started to buckle. And it was becoming very hot. I was going to teleport out, and I remember thinking that I couldn’t do it fast enough, and then I saw Sethra’s face.” She paused, looking at Morrolan. “Sethra Lavode. Do you know her?”
“Rather,” said Morrolan.
Aliera nodded. “I saw her face, then I was running through a tunnel—I think that was a dream. It lasted a long time, though. Eventually I stopped running and lay on what seemed to be a white tile floor, and I couldn’t move and didn’t want to. I don’t know how long I was there. Then someone shouted my name—I thought at the time it was my mother. Then I was waking up, and I heard a strange voice calling my name. I think that was you, Morrolan, because then I opened my eyes and saw you.”
Morrolan nodded. “You have been asleep—dead, actually—for, well, several hundred years.”
Aliera nodded, and I saw a tear in her eye. She said very quietly, “It is the reign of a reborn Phoenix, isn’t it?”
Morrolan nodded, seeming to understand.
“I told him it would be,” she said. “A Great Cycle—seventeen Cycles; it had to be a reborn Phoenix. He wouldn’t listen to me. He thought it was the end of the Cycle, that a new one could be formed. He—”
“He created a sea of chaos, Aliera.”
“What?”
I decided that “he” referred to Adron. I doubted that he was to be found in these regions.
“Not as big as the original, perhaps, but it is there—where Dragaera City used to be.”
“Used to be,” she echoed.
“The capital of the Empire is now Adrilankha.”
“Adrilankha. A seacoast town, right? Isn’t that where Kieron’s Tower is?”
“Kieron’s Watch. It used to be there. It fell into the sea during the Interregnum.”
“Inter—Oh. Of course. How did it end?”
“Zerika, of the House of the Phoenix, retrieved the Orb, which somehow landed here, in the Paths of the Dead. She was allowed to return with it. I helped her,” he added.
“I see,” she said. Morrolan sat down next to her. I sat down next to Morrolan. Aliera said, “I don’t know Zerika.”
“She was not yet born. She’s the only daughter of Vernoi and, um, whoever it was she married.”
“Loudin.”
“Right. They both died in the Disaster.”
She nodded, then stopped. “Wait. If they both died in the explosion, and Zerika wasn’t born when it happened, how could . . . ?”
Morrolan shrugged. “Sethra had something to do with it. I’ve asked her to explain it, but she just looks smug.” He blinked. “I get the impression that, whatever it was she did, she was too busy doing it to rescue you as thoroughly as she’d have liked. I guess you were the second priority after making sure there could be an Emperor. Zerika is the last Phoenix.”
“The last Phoenix? There can’t be another? Then the Cycle is broken. If not now, for the future.”
“Maybe,” said Morrolan.
“Can there be another Phoenix?”
“How should I know? We have the whole Cycle to worry about it. Ask me again in a few hundred thousand years when it starts to matter.”
I could see from Aliera’s expression that she didn’t like this answer, but she didn’t respond to it. There was a silence, then she said, “What happened to me?”
“I don’t understand entirely,” said Morrolan. “Sethra managed to preserve your soul in some form, though it became lost. Eventually—I imagine shortly after Zerika took the Orb—an Athyra wizard found you. He was studying necromancy. I don’t think he realized what he had. You were tracked down, and—”
“Who tracked me down?”
“Sethra and I,” he said, watching her face. He glanced at me quickly, then said, “And there were others who helped, some time ago.”
Aliera closed her eyes and nodded. I hate it when they talk over my head. “Did you have any trouble getting me back?”
Morrolan and I looked at each other. “None to speak of,” I said.
Aliera looked at me, then looked again, her eyes narrow. She stared hard, as if she were looking inside of me. She said, “Who are you?”
“Vladimir Taltos, Baronet, House Jhereg.”
She stared a little longer, then shook her head and looked back at Morrolan.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Never mind.” She stood up suddenly, or, rather, tried, then sat down. She scowled. “I want to get out of here.”
“I believe they will let Vlad leave. If so, he will help you.”
She looked at me, then back at Morrolan. “What’s wrong with you?”
“As a living man, I am not allowed to return from the Paths of the Dead. I shall remain here.”
Aliera stared at him. “Like hell you will. I’ll see you dead first.”
IT’S HARD FOR ME to pin down the point at which I stopped considering myself to be someone’s enforcer who sometimes did “work” and started considering myself a free-lance assassin. Part of it was that I worked for several different people during a short period of time during and after the war, including Welok himself, so this made things confusing.
Certainly those around me began to think of me that way before it occurred to me, but I don’t think my own thinking changed until I had developed professional habits and a good approach to the job.
Once again, it’s unclear just when this occurred, but I was certainly functioning like a professional by the time I finished my seventh job—assassinating a little turd named Raiet.
WHILE I WAS THINKING over this announcement and wondering whether to laugh, I realized that Verra had left us; in other words, we had no way of knowing where to go from here.
I cleared my throat. Morrolan broke off from his staring contest with Aliera and said, “Yes, Vlad?”
“Do you know how we can find our way back to where all the gods were?”
“Hmmm. I think so.”
“Let’s do that, then.”
“Why?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“I suppose not.”
As I stood, I was taken with a fleeting temptation to take a drink from the well. It’s probably fortunate that it was only fleeting. We helped Aliera to stand, and I discovered that she was quite short—hardly taller than me, as a matter of fact.
We began walking back the way we’d come, Morrolan and me each supporting one of Aliera’s arms. She looked very unhappy. Her teeth were clenched, perhaps from anger, perhaps from pain. Her eyes, which I’d first thought were green, seemed to be grey, and were set straight ahead.
We made it back to the archway and rested there for a moment.
Morrolan suggested that Aliera sit down and rest her legs. Aliera said, “Shut up.”
I saw that Morrolan’s patience was wearing thin. So was mine, for that matter. We bit our lips at the same moment, caught each other’s eyes, and smiled a little.
We took her arms and started moving again, in what Morrolan thought was the right direction. We took a few tentative steps and stopped again when Aliera gasped. She said, “I can’t . . .” and we let her sink to the ground.
Her breath came in gasps. She closed her eyes, her head up toward the sky; her brow was damp and her hair seemed soaked with sweat. Morrolan and I looked at each other, but no words came.
A minute or so later, as we were still standing there wondering if we would mortally insult Aliera if we offered to carry her, we saw a figure approach us out of the darkness and gradually become visible in the light of those incredible stars.
He was very tall and his shoulders were huge. There was a massive sword at his back, and his facial features were pure Dragon, as were the colors of his clothing, though their form—a peculiar formless jacket and baggy trousers tucked into darrskin boots—were rather strange. His hair was brown and curly, his eyes dark. He was—or, rather, had died at—late middle age. He had lines of thought on his forehead, lines of anger around his eyes, and the sort of jaw that made me think he kept his teeth clenched a lot.
He studied the three of us while we looked at him. I wondered what Morrolan thought of him, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the Dragonlord’s face to check Morrolan’s expression. I felt my pulse begin to race and my knees suddenly felt weak. I had to swallow several times in quick succession.
When he finally spoke, he was addressing Aliera. “I was told I’d find you here.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything. She looked miserable. Morrolan, who I guess wasn’t used to being ignored, said, “I greet you, lord. I am Morrolan e’Drien.”
He turned to Morrolan and nodded. “Good day,” he said. “I am Kieron.”
Kieron.
Kieron the Conqueror.
Father of the Dragaeran Empire, elder of the proudest of lines of the House of the Dragon, hero of myth and legend, first of the great Dragaeran butchers of Easterners, and, well, I could go on, but what’s the point? Here he was.
Morrolan stared at him and slowly dropped to one knee. I didn’t know where to look.
PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW BETTER.
I don’t know of any case of a Jhereg testifying to the Empire against the Jhereg and surviving, yet there are still fools who try. “I’m different,” they say. “I’ve got a plan. No one will be able to touch me; I’m protected.” Or maybe it isn’t even that well thought out, maybe it’s just that they’re unable to believe in their own mortality. Or else they figure that the amount of money the Empire is paying them makes it worth the risk.
But never mind, that isn’t my problem.
I was hired through about four layers, I think. I met with a guy in front of a grocer, and we talked as we strolled around the block. Loiosh rode on my left shoulder. It was early morning, and the area we were in was empty. The guy was called “Feet” for some reason or other. I knew who he was, and when he proposed an assassination I knew it had to be big, because he was placed pretty high in the Organization. That meant that whoever had told him to get this done must be really important.
I told him, “I know people who do that kind of thing. Would you like to tell me about it?”
He said, “There was a problem between two friends of ours.” This meant between two Jhereg. “It got serious, and things started getting very uncomfortable all around.” This meant that one or both of these individuals was very highly placed in the Organization. “One of them was afraid he’d get hurt, and he panicked and went to the Empire for protection.”
I whistled. “Is he giving official testimony?”
“He already has to an extent, and he’s going to give more.”
“Ouch. That’s going to hurt.”
“We’re working on burying it. We may be able to. If we can’t, things will get nasty all over for a while.”
“Yeah, I imagine.”
“We need serious work done. I mean, serious work. You understand?”
I swallowed. “I think so, but you’d better state it clearly.”
“Morganti.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Your friend ever done that?”
“What’s the difference?”
“None, I suppose. Your friend will have the full backing of many people on this; all the support he needs.”
“Yeah, I’ll need some time to think about it.”
“Certainly. Take as much time as you need. The price is ten thousand imperials.”
“I see.”
“How much time do you need to think it over?”
I was silent for a few minutes as we walked. Then I said, “Tell me his name.”
“Raiet. Know him?”
“No.”
We walked for a while as I thought things over. The neighborhood did neighborhood things all around us. It was a peculiar, peaceful kind of walk. I said, “All right. I’ll do it.”
“Good,” he said. “Let’s walk over to my place. I’ll pay you and give you what information we have to start with. Let us know as you need more and we’ll do what we can.”
“Right,” I said.
I FOUND MYSELF TAKING a step backward from the father of the Dragaeran Empire, while conflicting thoughts and emotions buzzed around my brain faster than I could note them. Fear and anger fought for control of my mouth, but rationality won for a change.
We held these positions for a moment. Kieron continued to look down at Aliera. Something in how they looked at each other seemed to indicate they had met before. I don’t know how that could be, since Kieron was as old as the Empire and Aliera was less than a thousand years old, however you measured her age.
Kieron said, “Well, will you stand up?”
Her eyes flashed. She hissed, “No, I’m going to lie right here forever.” Yes, I know there are no sibilants in what she said. I don’t care; she hissed it.
Kieron chuckled. “Very well,” he said. “If you ever do decide to stand up, you may come and speak to me.” He started to turn away, stopped, looked right at me. For some reason I couldn’t meet his eyes. He said, “Have you anything to say to me?”
My tongue felt thick in my mouth. I could find no words. Kieron left.
Morrolan stood up. Aliera was quietly sobbing on the ground. Morrolan and I studied our belt buckles. Presently Aliera became silent; then she said in a small voice, “Please help me to rise.”
We did, Morrolan indicated a direction, and we set off on our slow, limping way. Loiosh was being strangely silent. I said, “Something bothering you, chum?”
“I just want to get out of here, boss.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
I said to Aliera, “You seemed to recognize him.”
She said, “So did you.”
“I did?”
“Yes.”
I chewed that over for a moment, then decided not to pursue it. Presently a pair of what seemed to be monuments appeared before us. We passed between them and found ourselves back amid the thrones of the gods. We kept going without taking too close a look at the beings we’d just blithely stepped past.
A bit later Morrolan said, “Now what?”
I said, “You’re asking me? Wait a minute. I just thought of something.”
“Yes?”
I looked around and eventually spotted a purple robe passing by. I called out, “You. Come here.”
He did, quite humbly.
I spoke to him for a moment, and he nodded back at me without speaking, his eyes lifeless. He began leading us, adjusting himself to our pace. It was a long walk and we had to stop once or twice on the way while Aliera rested.
At last we came to a throne where was seated a female figure the color of marble, with eyes like diamonds. She held a spear. The purple robe bowed to us and turned away.
The goddess said, “The living are not allowed here.”
Her voice was like the ringing of chimes. It brought tears to my eyes just to hear it. It took me a moment to recover enough to say anything, in part because I’d expected Morrolan to jump in. But I said, “I am Vladimir Taltos. These are Morrolan and Aliera. You are Kelchor?”
“I am.”
Morrolan handed her the disk he’d been given by the cat-centaurs. She studied it for a moment, then said, “I see. Very well, then, what do you wish?”
“For one thing, to leave,” said Morrolan.
“Only the dead leave,” said Kelchor. “And that, rarely.”
“There is Zerika,” said Morrolan.
Kelchor shook her head. “I told them it was a dangerous precedent. In any case, that has nothing to do with you.”
Morrolan said, “Can you provide us with food and a place to rest while Aliera recovers her strength?”
“I can provide you with food and a place to rest,” she said. “But this is the land of the dead. She will not recover her strength here.”
“Even sleep would help,” said Aliera.
“Those who sleep here,” said Kelchor, “do not wake again as living beings. Even Easterners,” she added, giving me a look I couldn’t interpret.
I said, “Oh, fine,” and suddenly felt very tired.
Morrolan said, “Is there any way in which you can help us?” He sounded almost like he was begging, which in other circumstances I would have enjoyed.
Kelchor addressed Aliera, saying, “Touch this.” She held out her spear, just as Mist had done for me. Aliera touched it without hesitation.
I felt the pressure of holding her up ease. Kelchor raised the spear again, and Aliera said, “I thank you.”
Kelchor said, “Go now.”
I said, “Where?”
Kelchor opened her mouth to speak, but Aliera said, “To find Kieron.”
I wanted to say that he was the last thing I wanted to see just then, but the look on Aliera’s face stopped me. She let go of our support and, though she seemed a bit shaky, walked away on her own. Morrolan and I bowed low to Kelchor, who seemed amused, then we followed Aliera.
Aliera found a purple robe and said in a loud, clear voice, “Take us to Kieron.”
I hoped he’d be unable to, but he just bowed to her and began leading us off.