Steven Brust - Jhegaala

"All right," I said. "I get the idea. Each county is on its own."

"Yes. And this one took a turn, oh, I don't know, a few hundred years ago, maybe, when some peasant turned up an old recipe for making really good paper, and making it in quantity. He sold it to the Count—probably in exchange for a wagon and two horses to get himself out of town—and since then—"

"Tell me what you can about this friend of yours. What does he imagine I can do for him?"

"You have a common enemy, that's always a good basis an alliance of some sort."

"All right. Who is the enemy?"

"Don't you know?"

"Don't play games with me, Dahni."

"Eh, this is all a big game, Lord Merss. That's why I'm here; play games well, because I can always find the cracks in the rules."

"And you're careful never to spell out what the rules are to any other players who don't know."

"Exactly."

"Good, then. I'm happy for you. Have your fun. Who is the enemy?"

"I'm sorry, Lord Taltos."

There are any number of ways of dealing with someone who is trying to get information from you, and who you think might be good enough to pull it off. I thought about the simplest one: I almost killed him right then and there. I could have, too. I couldn't see him, but Loiosh knew where he was. I came very close. It would have been a mistake, certainly—I had no real reason to, and if I had, things would have gone, let's say, differently. But I wanted to.

"Turn and walk away," I told him.

I guess he must have picked up something from my tone, because he didn't say another word. I heard his boot-steps receding.

" Loiosh, keep track of him. I want to make sure he isn't waiting somewhere"

He flew off and did so, reporting that he'd gone back to town, and was last seen entering a house. Loiosh marked which house it was, then came back. He also made sure I was walking the right way back to town.

The light from the inn grew quickly, until it was hurting my eyes. I walked more slowly to give my vision time to adjust.

"Well now. That was certainly interesting. Did we get more information than we gave away?"

"You're the expert on that, Boss. I'm just eyes with wings."

"And a good sense of the arcane." We had reached the door of the Hat.

"Is that a question? No, I haven't picked up any witchcraft."

"All right.”

I muttered. The strange practice of the Art in this strange town was one of the things I needed to know about.

There were only a few people in the inn by this time, and the host was having a quiet conversation with a couple of them.

The barmaid had left, so I interrupted Inchay long enough to get a cup of the summer ale he was so proud of. I was hungry but I didn't feel like eating; I was tired but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep; I was angry but I didn't have anyone to kill. Random killings, power-hungry guilds, witches with practices—or at least beliefs—that made no sense. It was irritating. There was just too much going on. I didn't know the details of any of them, and I didn't know which ones fit together, or how. I took out a dagger and started flipping it, chewing my lip, trying to make sense of the whole thing.

"Boss. . . ."

The host was staring at me. I gave him a warm smile and put the dagger away. It was either that or carve him with it, and I didn't feel like standing up.

"How many days have we been here, Loiosh? " "Years, Boss. We've been here years. " "It does sort of feel like that, doesn't it? " "Does that mean you're thinking about leaving? " "Not yet. " "Okay. ” "How is Rocza doing? " "Picking up my moods, Boss. Sorry. " " It's all right. This is tough for all of us. " "But why— " " I need to do this. " "You could always just go poking around and stirring things up with no plan and se e

what happens," he said, meaning that's just what I'd been doing.

"You're pretty funny," I said, meaning he wasn't.

He was right, though. Stumbling around to stir things up can be effective, up to a point. It can work; you might learn things that way. But sometimes when you do that people get killed, and sometimes it's the wrong people.

Loiosh nuzzled the side of my neck.

"Yeah, I know," I told him.

I got bread and cheese from Inchay and made myself eat some, and fed some to Loiosh and Rocza. The cheese was salty. I don't like salty cheese. I got some more summer ale to wash it down, which was probably why he sold salty cheese. Bastard.

"Tell me something," I said as I picked up the ale. "What sort of witchcraft do they practice around here?"

"Eh." He fixed me with a hard stare. "The clean, decent kind, so far as I know. But I don't practice myself. Ask someone who does."

"Who would that be?"

"Hmmm?"

"Who practices the Art? Point someone out."

"In here?"

"Sure."

There were four people in the place, all by themselves, drinking quietly. Two of them were watching us, the other two were drunk.

"I don't keep track," he said. "And if I did, I wouldn't tell a stranger. All right?"

I shrugged. "Then let me ask you something else."

His eyes narrowed and his jaw set. "What?"

"Do you sell salty cheese on purpose, just to get people to buy more ale?"

After a second, he chuckled, then moved down to the other end of the bar. I went back to my table.

"Well, how about that. You try the direct approach, and it works. I'll have to remember that."

"What do you mean worked, Boss?"

"You weren't watching his eyes."

"He gestured at someone?"

"Not on purpose."

"Who?"

"Middle of the room, long gray coat, curly hair, looks like he's about to pass out."

"Should I follow him when he leaves ?"

"Might be a tad obvious for me to follow him out, and then come back in shy one jhereg."

"Window to the roof, and I'll watch the door from there."

"Yeah, sounds good."

I took another swallow of the beer, set the mug down, and went up to my room. I opened the shutters, and Loiosh flew out the window and up. I settled back to wait.

About twenty minutes, that's what it took. He flew back in the window like he didn't have a care in the world.

" Got it, Boss. He was just down the street. I'd have been back sooner if he hadn't fallen on his face a couple of times on the way home."

"Hmm. So, by now, he's probably asleep."

" I thought it was called passed out."

" So if . . . yes. Okay, show me this place."

"You're the boss."

So, down the stairs, and then once more out into the dark and the stench. And if you're getting tired of hearing how much it stank, imagine how tired I was getting of walking through it. Phew.

Loiosh, who has better night vision than I do—which is to say, he has at least some night vision—flew just a bit in front of me, and guided me down the middle of another of the surprisingly wide roads of the town. I quickly had no idea which way we were going, or where we were in relation to the inn, but quite soon Loiosh said, "This is it."

" All right."

I listened and heard snores. I tried the door and found it unlocked; it didn't make too much noise when it opened, and then I was inside.

"One step forward, Boss. Another. Hold out your hand. Right. A little more. There. That's a candle."

There seemed to be a wall between me and the snoring. "Anyone in this room?"