Steven Brust - Orca

“I don’t think you know Sethra as well as you know Kiera,” I said.

“Maybe not, maybe not.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. Trying to keep my voice casual, I asked, “What now?”

He pointed to his upper lip.

I said, “Right. In addition to growing your facial hair back.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I’m going to bring Savn back home.”

“Teleport?”

He shook his head. “It’ll take a long time to get back there, and, with any luck, by the time we make it he’ll be better. Some better, anyway. Better enough that he can see his family again.”

“How will they react to you?”

He smiled. “I don’t think I’ll want to settle down there. Although, come to think of it, there is an Issola minstrel in the area I could stand to see again.”

I shook my head. “I wish ...”

“Yeah. Me, too. Wait here,” he said. He went back into the cottage and returned a few minutes later with his backpack, Savn trailing along behind.

“That was a short goodbye,” I said.

“I don’t think the old woman likes me,” he said. “But don’t tell her I know. I think it would hurt her feelings.”

“Vlad—”

“And, look, give my regards to, uh, to people, all right? And look in on Noish-pa when you can.”

“I will,” I said.

“Then that’s all,” he said.

“I doubt it very much,” I told him.

He smiled, nodded, and began walking down the road, Savn keeping pace. Buddy and I watched them. I petted Buddy, who didn’t seem to mind.

Being Vlad, and thus needing to get in the last word, he turned around just before reaching the road, and called back, “We all need work on our disguises, don’t we?”

They were gone before I could think up a good answer. Epilogue

My Dear Cawti:

It was delightful, as always, seeing you, although perhaps you don’t feel the same way. If not, I can certainly understand. Maybe you were upset by what I didn’t tell you, yet you know there are things that I had to leave out, both on Vlad’s behalf and on my own. I had hoped I told you enough for your peace of mind. On the other hand, perhaps it bothers you not to tell Vlad those things you have chosen to keep from him, and perhaps it should bother you; I am hardly one to judge what another person’s secrets ought to be.

You seemed concerned about the boy. I know no more than I told you, but do not be discouraged. You cannot expect such a complex ailment to be cured at once in its entirety. There has been clear progress, and I feel confident that, in time, his cure will be effected. As for what will become of Vlad—that is a more difficult matter to judge.

And yet, as I said yesterday, he is well, and in this matter he emerged unscathed. You cannot reach him, and I cannot reach him, and we accept this because we also know that the Jhereg cannot reach him. Of course, he always takes chances, yet he is being very careful and that is a consolation to us; and Loiosh is watching over him, and that is another consolation to us; and now I believe there may be another, of whom I cannot speak, who has found a way to watch over him. No, you must not ask what I mean, Cawti, you must simply trust me. That is what trust is, you know: if we never had secrets from our friends and loved ones, there would never be any need for them to trust us.

There is little more I can say, my dear, except that I’m sorry to have caused you any distress, and I hope you can understand that I have done my best in a very difficult situation.

Let us give it some time, and then we’ll meet again, and if you have any more questions you may ask them, and if you feel the need to berate me, well, I will listen and take it like a trooper. In the meantime, you know that you can always call on me if you are in trouble, and I will repeat that it was a joy to me to see you and Vlad Norathar, who seems to already have the good looks of his father and the iron will of his mother.

Faithfully, Kiera