Steven Brust - Phoenix

Morrolan, as always, wore black. At his side was Black-wand, about which the less said the better. Sethra had us stand in a triangle, with me at the V, Morrolan in front of me to the right, Aliera in front to my left. Loiosh was on my right shoulder, Rocza on my left. Rocza seemed a bit jumpy; Loiosh as cool as steel. Sethra said, "Put an arm on Morrolan's shoulder, and one on—hello, Master Taltos."

I looked up and saw my grandfather ambling his way toward me. For a moment I was afraid he was going to insist on coming along, but he only wanted to slip an amulet over my head and kiss my cheek.

"What is it?"

"It should prevent you from feeling discomfort while you journey in the elflands."

It took me a moment to translate that, then I said, "You mean I won't get sick anymore when I teleport? Noish-pa, my life is complete."

"No," he said. "It is not complete until you have given me a great-grandchild. Don't forget that."

I looked into his eyes for just a moment, then kissed his cheek. "I won't." He stepped back until he was next to Aibynn, who was next to Daymar and Sethra. I put my hands on Aliera's and Morrolan's shoulders and said, "All right, Sethra and Daymar. Cast off."

"Concentrate on the location, Aibynn. Do you have one in mind?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Concentrate on it, and open your mind to me—oh, take that thing off."

"Oh, yeah. Okay."

"Now, think about it. Remember every detail you can, what it feels like—excellent. You're good at this. I think we're ready, Vlad."

"Do it, then," I said, hoping Aibynn wasn't sending us back into a cell, or into the sea or something. I wished I could trust him a little more. I felt Daymar's powerful psychic presence, as if he were tiptoeing around in my forebrain. Then there was what I can only describe as a psychic twist. Imagine, if you will, that your thoughts are neatly rolling waves in a pond, and someone comes along and throws a boulder into the middle of it. I could no longer form coherent thoughts, and my perceptions became hopelessly muddled. I remember feeling as if Castle were loose inside my head, and I was desperately trying to tie it down against a storm, while simultaneously realizing how absurd that was.

More went on then, a great deal more, but there is no way I can reconstruct it, or even remember most of the images the spell created. The next thing I can recall clearly, and I have no idea how long we stood there before it happened, was being covered in a bright blue light that took us all in and then resolved itself to a spear of light that went off in some impossible direction, taking us with it.

There was no nausea. There wasn't even any sensation of movement. We stood in a grove below a tree from which I'd fallen not many days before. I wanted to open a bottle of wine, more for Noish-pa's amulet having worked than the success of the teleport spell, but I had none handy in any case.

Morrolan said, "What's the plan, Vlad?"

Plan? I was supposed to have a plan? "Follow me," I said, and, "Loiosh, do you remember the way?"

"I think so, boss. Bear a little to the left."

We set off. It was oddly peaceful walking through the woods, I guess because of the lack of background psychic activity, the kind that's always there but you never notice. Soon I forgot that anyone was with me except Loiosh, whom I could feel as a cool hand on the brow of my thoughts, and way in the background, faint echoes of Rocza, who was just recovering from panic induced by the teleport. I realized for the first time how strange this must be for her, and how hard it was for her to appear calm in the face of these strange sorceries, for which none of her life had prepared her. Loiosh had chosen well. "Thanks, boss. "

"Think nothing of it, Loiosh. "

"Now, what is it you've been hiding from me all day?"

"wait and see."

We came to the place where I'd fought my first four pursuers, and I didn't take the time to see if there any signs of the struggle. Loiosh led me; I led Morrolan and Aliera, and in about an hour and a half we were beside the village. It was early evening. There was no in sight.

"Where is everybody, boss?"

"Probably on ships preparing to attack the Dragaeran navy."

"Oh."

"Let's eat," I said aloud, and we took out the food that had been packed for us by Morrolan's cook. I had dried winneasaurous and some good bread. I took my time eating, so it was nearly full dark by the time we were done.

"Now what?" said Morrolan.

I looked at their dim faces, Morrolan e'Drien and Aliera e'Kieron, watching me patiently and expectantly. I said, "Now I lead us to the place that passes for a palace and negotiate as appropriate, and get out."

"In other words," said Aliera, "we're just going to improvise."

"You got it."

"Good plan," said Morrolan dryly.

"Thanks. It's one of my best."

I led the way, with Morrolan and Aliera behind me. Quite a sight we must have looked as we walked up the wide shallow steps to the small, pillared building that housed the government of Greenaere.

We flung the door open in front of two sleepy-looking guards, neither of them in uniform, both holding the short, feathered spears I remembered too well. They stopped looking sleepy almost at once. The three of us could have put the two of them down without working up a sweat, but I held my arm up for them to wait.

The guards stared at us. We stared back. I said, "Take me to your—"

"Who are you?" croaked one of them at last.

"Unofficial envoys from the Dragaeran Empire We wish to open negotiations with—" "I know you," said the other. "You're the one who—" "Now, now," I said. "The past is past," and I smiled into his face. Behind me, I felt the troops prepare for battle. There is something reassuring about having Morrolan with Blackwand and Aliera with Pathfinder ready to jump to your defense. The guards looked very nervous-not without reason. "We would like to see the King," I said. There was no one else in sight down the narrow corridor; they really hadn't considered the possibility of an attack.

"I— I'll see if he, that is, I'll find out—" "Excellent. Do that."

He swallowed and backed up a couple of steps. I followed, Morrolan and Aliera behind me, forcing the other guard backward, too. "No, you wait here." "Not a chance," I said cheerfully. He stopped. "I can't let you past." "You can't stop us," I said reasonably. "I'll raise the alarm."

"Do so."

He turned and yelled, "Help! Invaders!" at the top of his lungs. For some reason, I still didn't want to cut them down, so I just led us past them. As we went by I patted the one who'd recognized me on the shoulder. They both looked rather pitiful, and the other one actually drew steel as we went by. Morrolan and Aliera drew as well then, and I heard the fellow make sounds of awe under his breath. Yes it still possible to feel a Morganti weapon here on the island, Phoenix Stone notwithstanding. I expected Morrolan was noting that to study when he got back.

"This way" I said and directed us into the throne room.

There were two more guards, a pale man with an odd white streak in his dark hair and a hook-nosed woman. They had apparently heard the warnings, because they stood with their spears out and pointed at us. To the right of the throne was an old woman with grey hair and deep eyes, and on the left were two men. One seemed quite old and rather unkempt. The other was the bushy-browed interrogator I knew so well. He was armed only with a knife at his belt, the old man was unarmed. The King, who looked like he couldn't be more than two or three hundred (in a human that would be eighteen or nineteen, I suppose), stared at us in a mixture of fear and amazement. I recognized him, too; he'd been walking next to the King I'd assassinated, just as I'd suspected then. How long ago was that? It felt like years.