Steven Brust - Phoenix

There was a thump behind me, and at first it didn't register that anything was wrong. Then I saw Melestav facedown on the floor and I moved away, drew a dagger, and looked around. I didn't see anything. Loiosh came back and landed on my shoulder, also looking anxiously around. I was not attacked.

Then I noticed that Melestav had a dagger in his hand and realized from his position what he'd been up to. It was only after that that I noticed Kragar, standing above my secretary's body.

"Shit," I said.

Kragar nodded. "You were set up perfectly, Vlad."

"But he didn't notice you."

I started shaking and cursing at the same time. That had been as close as I'd ever come. I looked down at his body. He had not only saved my life more than once, he had died doing it, and now this. Now he'd tried to shine me, and for what? Money? Power?

If you want to push it back, he'd tried to shine me because I'd had to go and threaten the Imperial representative, and then threaten someone on the Jhereg Council. I couldn't blame anyone but myself for this. I kept staring at the body until Kragar said, "No point in standing around here, Vlad. I'll take care of things. Get somewhere safe."

I did so without another word.

The bells in my grandfather's shop went tinga-ling as I pushed aside the rug that he used as a door. "Come in, Vladimir. Tea?"

"Thank you, Noish-pa." I kissed his cheek and said hello to his familiar, a short-haired white cat named Ambrus. The tea had a distinct lemon tang and was very good. My grandfather's hands shook, just a little, as he poured. I sat in a canvas chair in his front room while Loiosh and ocza, after greeting Noish-pa, settled down next to Ambrus for conversation on subjects I could only guess at. Where are your thoughts, Vladimir?"

"Noish-pa, what are they doing around here? I mean, the Empire, and these rebels."

"What are they doing? You come to an old man like me for this?" But he smiled with his few remaining yellowed teeth and settled back a little. "All right. The elfs want to go to war, for what reason they do not tell me. They want sailors for their ships, so they pull in young men and women for it. They send in gangs who grab people and take them, without even saying farewell to the family, and bring them to the ships, which sail away. Everyone is upset, some throw things at the elfs who want to take them. Now, these forradalomartok, they say that the war is a, what is the word? Urugy."

"Pretext?"

"Yes, a pretext, to bring in soldiers. The forradalomartok organize against this, and everyone says, 'Yes, yes, we fight,' and then they arrest this Kelly and now everyone says, 'Let him go or we will wreck your city.' "

"But it all happened so fast."

"That is how these things happen, Vladimir. You see all your peasants smile and look sleepy and they say, 'Oh, this is our lot in life,' and then something happens and they all say, 'We will die to keep them from doing this to our chijdren.' All in a night it can happen, Vladimir."

"I guess so. But I'm frightened, Noish-pa. For them, and for Cawti."

"Yes, she still walks with these people. You are right to fear."

"Can they win?"

"Vladimir, why do you ask me? If soldiers come into my shop, I will show them how old I am. But I will not go looking for them, and so I know nothing of such things. Perhaps, yes, they can win. Perhaps the soldiers will crush them. Perhaps both at once. I don't know." "I have to decide what to do, Noish-pa." "Yes, Vladimir. But there is little help I can give you." We sipped tea for a while. I said, "I don't know, maybe it's good to have this problem. It means I don't have to worry about what's going to happen afterward." He didn't smile. "It is right not to worry now. But is it possible for you?"

"No " I said. I stared at my hands. "I know you don't approve of what I do. The trouble is, I'm not sure I approve of it anymore."

"As I told you once before, Vladimir, killing people for money is no way for a man to earn a living."

"But Noish-pa, I hate them so much. I learned that I used to be one, and I thought that had changed things, but it hasn't. I still hate them. Every time I come to see you, and smell the garbage in the streets, and see people who have lost their sight, or who have diseases that could be cured by the simplest sorcery, or don't know how to write their own names, I just hate them. It doesn't make me want to fix everything, like Cawti; it just makes me want to kill them."

"Have you no friends, Vladimir?"

"Hmm? Well, yes, certainly. What has that to do with it?"

"Who are your friends?"

"Well, there's—oh. I see. Yes, they're all Dragaerans. But they're different."

"Are they?"

"I don't know, Noish-pa. I really don't. I know what you're saying, but why do I still feel this hate?"

"Hate is part of life, Vladimir. If you cannot hate, you cannot love. And if you hate these elfs, then that is what you feel and you cannot deny it. But more foolish than this hate of elfs you have never met is to let it rule you. That is no way to live."

"I know that, but I—" I broke off as Amrus jumped into Noish-pa's lap, mewing furiously. Noish-pa frowned and listened.

^What's wrong?" I said.

'Be still, Vladimir. I don't know."

Loiosh returned to my shoulder. Noish-pa got up ano walked into the front of the shop. I was about to follow him when he returned, holding a sheet of white parchment. He took a quill pen from an inkwell, and with a few quick slashes drew a sideways rectangle. He dipped the pen again, not blotting it at all, and made sloppy signs in the corners. I didn't recognize the symbols.

"What is this?"

"Not now, Vladimir. Take this." He handed me a small silver dagger. "Cut your left palm." I did so, making a cut right next to the tiny white scar I'd made only two days before. It bled nicely. "Collect some blood in your right hand." I did that, too. "Scatter it onto the paper." He held the paper about three feet in front of me. I tossed the blood onto it, making an interesting pattern of red dots. Then he threw me a clean cloth to bind my hand up. I did, concentrating a little to stop the blood and begin the healing. I wished, not for the first time, that I'd troubled to learn basic sorcerous healing.

Noish-pa studied the red dots on the parchment and said, "There is a man outside, near the door. He is waiting for you to come out so he can kill you."

"Oh. Is that all? All right."

"You know how to find the back door."

"Yes, but Loiosh will be taking it. We'll handle this our way."

He looked at me through filmy eyes. "All right, Vladimir. But don't be distracted by shadows. Concentrate always on the target."

"I will," I said. I stood and drew my rapier. "I know how to make the shadows vanish."

Lesson Thirteen

ADVANCED SURVIVAL SKILLS

"Okay, Loiosh. You know what to do."

"What about Rocza?"

"She can wait with me, just in case."

We went into the back room, past the kitchen, and I let Loiosh out, then returned and stood waiting near the doorway, blade in hand. Rocza landed on my shoulder. She was heavier than Loiosh, but I was getting used to her.

"I don't see him yet, boss."

"No hurry, chum. Lots of places to hide out there the way things are packed togeth—"

"Got him!"

"Let me see. Hmmm. Don't recognize him."

"How should we play it?"

"Has he seen you?"

"No."

"Okay. Out the door, three steps, I'll take a left so we can get him away from the shop. I'll let him catch up a bit, you hit him when he starts to move, and I'll join you"

"Got it."

I put my sword away since I wouldn't be using it at once and kissed my grandfather good-bye. He suggested once more that I be careful, and I allowed as to how I would. I walked through the doorway, made a show of looking around, then headed to my left. "He's following." "Okay."