Steven Brust - Dzur

“Shut up, Loiosh.”

“Good then,” said Daymar. “Well—”

I sat down on the bed. “But it wouldn’t hurt for you to review it for me.”

He blinked. “All right.” He folded his arms. Floating above the floor with his arms folded made him look slightly ridiculous. He said, “Each mind capable of producing a significant amount of psychic energy creates a sort of image that an adept can sense. Enough of them within the same psychic location create something not unlike a grid—”

“Hold on.”

He cocked his head. “Yes?”

“I think that term, ‘psychic location,’ is somewhere near the heart of my confusion.”

“Oh. Shall I explain?”

“No. I love being confused.”

“All right.”

I closed my eyes. “No, explain.”

“Each mind that emits energy, does so with its own character­istics.”

“Okay, I can accept that.”

“One characteristic is how strong it is. My own is, well, rather strong.”

“Uh huh.”

“Another characteristic has to do with the feel of the mind—that is how you are able to reach someone telepathically after you know him well.”

“All right.”

“Another has to do with shape, or the way your mind grasps his, which is used ... never mind. Still another is, well, call it flavor.”

“All right, I will.”

“You can think of it as relating to not what the mind is like, but what the energy it produces is like. The energy comes in waves, and when you train yourself mentally, you are training to detect and work with those waves. You’re lost now, aren’t you?”

“Not quite. Go on.”

“Okay, when I speak of flavor, I’m talking about how much space there is between those waves. There are a large variety of possibilities for the amount of space, but it isn’t an infinite num­ber. All right?”

“Uh ... sort of.”

He nodded, paused, and said, “Okay, then. Imagine a build­ing of many stories.”

“All right, I can do that.”

“Minds capable of emitting energy—that is, almost any mind—can do so on any of a number of stories. When there are enough of them on a particular story, that story can be seen by an adept.”

“All right.”

“Imagine each flavor as being its own story.”

“You’re hurting my head, Daymar.”

“Sorry.”

“Continue.”

He nodded. “A psychic location means finding the story, and where on the story a particular mind is.”

I considered. “Do you know, I think I understood some of that.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try again.”

“No, no. Go on.”

“I know, Vlad. That was a joke.”

“Oh. I didn’t think you did that.”

“I do sometimes.”

“All right. So, is there a way to go from this, uh, psychic location to a physical location?”

“Certainly.”

“How?”

He gave me a curious look. “I don’t know, Vlad. You’re the one who did it.”

“I did?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Not long ago. Remember, I mentally located someone? And you fixed his mental location in a crystal, so I could convert it to a physical location?”

“Oh. Right. That’s what that was?”

“I thought you knew.”

“Uh. I guess I did, in a way. But I didn’t know about the building.”

“The building?”

“With all the stories.”

“Oh.”

“All right, then. Let’s get back to this thing that happened.”

“The effort to locate Loiosh?”

“Yes. If they can’t go from, uh, the building to a physical location, then what were they doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you find out?”

“I could take a look into Loiosh’s head.”

I nodded. “That’s sort of what I was thinking.”

“Boss ...”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“You’ve had it done?”

“Well—”

“Okay, Boss. You owe me one.”

“Yes.”

“Go ahead, Daymar.”

Daymar frowned. “I need him to move a little away from you.”

“Boss—”

“I know. But do it anyway.”

My familiar flew over to the windowsill. Daymar nodded and glanced at him; then a look of surprise spread across his features, and he said, “That’s interesting.”

“What, you did it already? What did you find out?”

“That was it?”

“I’m not sure,” said Daymar.

“I admit that gives me a certain amount of satisfaction.”

“Hmmm?”

“Nothing. What can you tell me?”

“Someone attempted a spell I’ve never encountered before.” He sounded almost pleased.

“Can you determine what it was supposed to do?”

“Well, to find Loiosh. But I don’t understand how she intended to make the transition from ment—”

“She?”

“Yes.”

“You know the caster was female?”

He blinked. “Certainly.”

“What else can you tell me about her?”

“What would you like to know?”

“Does she like trout?”

“Yes.”

“Was that another joke?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I want to know if she is in the Left Hand of the Jhereg.”

“What’s that?”

“Okay. Then can you tell me anything about her state of mind?”

“Cold rage,” said Daymar.

“Really? You can tell that?”

He nodded.

“Cold rage,” I repeated.

“Boss, that makes it sound personal.”

“Yeah, that’s just what I was thinking.”

“Who have you offended lately?”

“Daymar, I think.”

“Daymar, if she had succeeded in locating Loiosh, could she have attacked me, through him?”

He frowned. “Maybe. I suppose that is possible. I don’t know enough about the nature of your connection to Loiosh.”

I nodded. “Okay, anything else you noticed?”

“Well, I can find her again, if you wish.”

“Um, yes. But for definitions of ‘find’ that don’t include an actual location?”

“Well, yes. Unless—”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you can do that thing you did before.”

“What thing?”

“When you used that Eastern magic to find someone—”

“Oh, that.”

He shrugged.

“Unfortunately, that’s impossible just now.”

“Oh. All right.”

I sighed.

“Okay, Daymar. Thank you for showing up.”

“Why?”

“Uh, why? Well, it helps me to know what—”

“No, why is it impossible?”

“Oh.”

I tapped the pendant on my chest. “As long as I wear this, I cannot perform witchcraft.”

“Oh. Is that why I can’t feel your psychic presence?”

“Yep.”

“Oh. Uh, why don’t you take it off?”

“Valid question, Daymar.”

“And?” I think “and” and “yes” must be Daymar’s favorite words; he lingers over them the way I linger over Valabar’s trout.

“If I remove it, I die.”

“Oh.”

I waited patiently for the inevitable question after he’d chewed that over. I could have gone ahead and answered it before he asked, but I guess in a sick way I was enjoying myself.

“What will kill you?”

“The Jhereg is trying to find me and kill me.”

“Oh.

“Morganti.”

“Oh.”

I nodded.

“Why?” he said.

“I annoyed them.”

He nodded. “You must remind me,” he said, “not to annoy the Jhereg.”

“I’ll have Loiosh make a note. He handles things like that.”

“Shut up, Loiosh.”

“I—”

“Of course,” said Daymar, “if you want to, I can shield you while you perform the spell.”

“You can?”

“Certainly.”

“You can do what this amulet does?”