Steven Brust - Yendi

“Never mind. I’ll think of something—wait a minute, I think I’m getting that verification now.”

I had a brief conversation with Fentor, then turned back to them. “It’s confirmed,” I said. “Sethra the Younger, through intermediaries, owns a row of flats that were used as part of the setup for the attempt on me by Cawti and her friend the Dragonlord.”

“Very well,” said Morrolan. “How do we proceed?”

“It is vain to use subtlety against a Yendi,” said Sethra. “Make it something simple.”

“Another axiom?”

She smiled coldly. “And I’ll deal with Sethra the Younger myself.”

“It’s simple enough,” I said a while later, “but Cawti and I aren’t at our best right after a teleport.”

“Cawti and you,” said Aliera, “will have no need to do anything.”

I looked at Cawti.

“I don’t mind,” she said. “Vladimir and I will just watch.”

I nodded. I intended to do more than that, but there was no need to tell them about it. Except—

“Excuse me, Morrolan, but just to be safe, may I borrow a Morganti knife?”

His brows furrowed. “If you wish.”

He concentrated for a moment. Soon a servant appeared with a wooden box. I opened it, and saw a small, silver-hilted dagger in a leather-covered sheath. I took it partway out and at once recognized the feel of a Morganti weapon. I replaced it in the sheath and slipped it into my cloak.

“Thank you,” I said.

“It is nothing.”

We stood up and looked at each other. No one seemed able to find anything suitable to say, so we just stepped out of the small dining room and walked over to the central part of the castle, where the main dining room was.

We walked in and spotted Sethra the Younger almost right away. Loiosh left my shoulder and began flying around the room, staying high enough to be unobtrusive. (Morrolan’s banquet hall had ceilings that were forty feet high.) Morrolan approached Sethra the Younger and spoke quietly with her.

“ Found her, boss. Northeast corner .”

“ Good work .”

I gave this information to Morrolan, who began guiding Sethra the Younger that way. The rest of us converged on the Sorceress in Green; we reached her at about the same time Morrolan did. She looked at him, looked at Sethra, then looked at us. There was, perhaps, the smallest widening of her eyes.

Morrolan said, “Sethra the Younger, Sorceress, for the next seventeen hours you are not welcome in my home. After that time, you may return.” He bowed.

They looked at each other, then at the rest of us. Others in the hall began to watch, sensing that something unusual was occurring.

Sethra the Younger started to say something, but stopped—the sorceress had probably told her psionically that it was pointless to argue. The two of them bowed.

Sethra Lavode stepped up behind her namesake and put a hand on her arm, above the elbow. They looked at each other, but their expressions were unreadable.

Then, abruptly, the Sorceress in Green was gone. Loiosh returned to my shoulder, and I looked at Aliera. Her eyes were closed in concentration. Then Sethra the Younger disappeared. Sethra Lavode left with her.

“What will she do to her?” I asked Morrolan.

He shrugged and didn’t answer.

Presently Aliera spoke, her eyes still closed. “She knows I’m tracing her. If she stops to break the trace, we’ll have time to catch up with her.”

“She’ll find the most advantageous place she can,” I said.

“Yes,” said Aliera.

“Let her,” said Norathar.

Cawti swept her hair back with both hands just as I was adjusting my cloak. We smiled at each other, as we realized what the gestures meant. Then—

“Now!” said Aliera.

There was a wrenching in my bowels, and Castle Black vanished.

The first thing that hit me was the heat—an agony of flames. I started to scream, but the pain went away before I had the chance. We seemed to be standing in the heart of a fire. From somewhere off to my left I heard a dry voice say, “Quick work, Aliera.”

I recognized the voice as belonging to the Sorceress in Green. She continued: “You may as well dispense with your teleport block; I’m not going anywhere.”

It occurred to me that she must have prepared herself while teleporting, then brought us into a furnace. Apparently, Aliera had figured it out and put a protection spell around us before we had time to be incinerated.

“ You all right, Loiosh? ”

“ Fine, boss .”

Then the flames surged around us and went out. We were in a room, about twenty feet on a side, with blackened walls. We were standing in ash that came above our ankles. The Sorceress in Green stood before us, her eyes as cold as the fires had been hot. In her hand was a plain wooden staff.

“You had best leave,” she said coolly. “I am surrounded by my own people, and you can hardly do anything to me before they get here.”

I glanced at Aliera.

The Sorceress in Green gestured with her staff, and the wall behind her collapsed upon itself. On the other side of it, I could see about thirty Dragaerans, all armed.

“Last chance,” said the sorceress, smiling.

I coughed. “Are all Yendi so melodramatic?” I inquired.

The sorceress gave a signal, and they stepped onto the ash.

Aliera gestured, and we were surrounded by flames again for a moment; then they died.

“Nice try, my dear,” said the sorceress. “But I’d thought of that already.”

“So I see,” said Aliera. She turned to Morrolan. “Do you want her, or the troops?”

“It is your choice.”

“I’ll take her, then.”

“Very well,” said Morrolan, and drew Blackflame. I saw the faces of the men and women facing us as they realized that he was holding a Morganti blade, and one of power that, beyond doubt, none of them had encountered before. Morrolan calmly walked up to them.

“Remember,” I told Cawti, “we’re just here to watch.”

She flashed me a nervous smile.

Then there was a flicker of motion to my side, and I saw Norathar charge for the sorceress, blade swinging. Aliera hissed and leapt after her. A spell of some kind must have gone off behind me, because I heard a dull boom and smoke came billowing past.

The sorceress slipped past the front line of her troops and raised her staff. Fires leapt from it toward Norathar and Aliera, but Aliera held her hand up and they fizzled out.

Morrolan, Norathar, and Aliera hit the front line at the same instant. Blackwand cut a throat, swept across the chest of the next guard, and, with the same motion, buried itself high in the side of a third. Morrolan slipped to his right like a cat before anyone even struck at him, withdrawing Blackwand, then sliced open two bellies. He parried a cut and impaled the attacker’s throat, then stepped back, facing full forward, slightly on his toes, blade held at head height and pointing toward his enemies. In his left hand was a long dagger. The room was filled with the sound of screams, and those who’d been watching Morrolan turned pale.

I saw three more guards at Norathar’s feet. Aliera, meanwhile, was wielding her eight-foot greatsword like a toy, flipping it back and forth amid their ranks. She had accounted for five so far.

Then, incredibly, the dead guards began to stand up—even the ones slain by Blackwand. I looked at the sorceress, and saw a look of profound concentration on her face.

“Hold them!” cried Aliera. She stepped back a pace, held her blade with her right hand, and stabbed the air with her left. The corpses who’d been trying to rise stopped. The sorceress gestured with her staff. They continued. Aliera stabbed the air. They stopped. They started again.