Steven Brust - Dzur

I tasted my own fear again as I remembered standing in that alley, holding Lady Teldra and staring at the sorceress as she—“Yes,” I said.

“Then it has to do with the nature of the spell. If it was one that opened a channel through the etherium, and there was noth­ing preventing reverse influx, then it would be possib—”

“You understand, Daymar, that I have no idea what you just said?”

He blinked. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

“What’s the short version?”

“There’s no way to tell for sure, but it is possible that your weapon was able to take her soul because of the spell she cast at you.

“Well.” I swallowed. “That’s wonderful.”

Daymar slowly rose, until he was floating, cross-legged, a foot or so off the ground again.

“Feeling better?” I asked.

He nodded.

I let out a long, slow breath. “Okay. Where was I?”

“You were just using a Morganti weapon on a sorceress.”

“Yeah, I guess I was.”

“Well, Boss, you could explain that you didn’t really mean it.”

“Now isn’t the time, Loiosh.”

“Sorry.”

“What you said about asking her not to ...”

“Yes?”

“How do I do that?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. I’m told it can be done, but—”

“Okay. So this ... what was her name?”

“Crithnak.”

“Yeah. This Crithnak wants to kill me because I killed her sister.”

“Because you destroyed her soul.”

I shuddered. “Okay. And she tried to locate me?”

“Yes. It was very difficult to block.”

“How was she doing it?”

“Pretty much, pure psychic energy.”

“Oh. I thought there wasn’t anyone as good as you at that.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

“Did it hurt your feelings?”

“A little.”

I sighed. “Okay, now what?”

“Hmmm?”

“Sorry, was mostly talking to myself. Uh, thanks for all your help.”

“Of course.”

“May I buy you a drink?”

He shook his head. “I think I’ll be heading back home.”

I nodded. “Where do you live, anyway?”

“Hmmm? Loiosh knows.”

“Yes, you told him, but he’s never told me.”

Daymar laughed, which didn’t happen often. Then he van­ished, leaving me to contemplate many things.

I drew Lady Teldra and studied the elegant lines of the slim, dark blade. “Did you really do that?” I asked her. She didn’t answer. I put her back in the sheath. Loiosh nuzzled my neck. She had destroyed someone’s soul.

No, I had destroyed someone’s soul. It wasn’t the first time, but the other times I’d been paid a whole lot of money, and had reason to believe it was justified, at least by the standards of the Jhereg.

This was different.

What would Cawti say? What would Aliera say?

Why did I care what Aliera would say?

“Take some time, Boss.”

“Hmmm?”

“Take some time. Get over it.”

“I’m not sure it’s that easy.”

“I know. Take some time anyway.”

It seemed like good advice. I lay down on the bed with the intention of taking some time, but after about a minute I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I got up. Inactivity isn’t one of my favorite things.

I paced around the room for a bit, but the room wasn’t nearly big enough to pace in effectively.

“We going out, Boss?”

“Yeah. I need to walk.”

They went out the window, I went out the door.

Walking around while people were trying to kill me and my head was filled with things other than how to avoid them proba­bly wasn’t all that smart, but it’s something I’ve done before. This time, at any rate, I knew I’d be hard to find, and I had Loiosh and Rocza flying around and keeping an eye on me.

In any case, I got away with it; I spent a couple of hours tromp­ing aimlessly around South Adrilankha without anyone trying to kill me, or, indeed, taking any notice of me.

At one point, I found myself back again at the place where my grandfather had lived for so many years, but I didn’t stop. I thought about picking up some food, then realized I wasn’t hungry. I tried to remember when I last ate, and, after working it out, decided it was probably a bad sign and I should eat something anyway.

I picked up some food at one of the stands and ate a bit while I walked. I tossed the rest into an alley for Loiosh and Rocza, who enjoyed it more than I did. I remember an old woman walking past me, wearing an off-white knitted scarf over her head, and thick, heavy shoes. Three or four children went running past me. Old people and children; you didn’t seem to see either one in most of Adrilankha; in the Easterners’ quarter, it seemed like they were the only ones around.

I walked past the shops of those who were wealthy by the standards of South Adrilankha, and the carts and booths of those who were not. I stopped occasionally, pretending to be interested in something, then moved on.

I wondered if I was the only guy in history to destroy someone’s soul without even being aware of it. That would be a first, wouldn’t it? I suddenly thought of Napper, whom I had watched fall to a Morganti weapon in the middle of a battle. I’d known him, and even liked him, and he hadn’t deserved to die that way. And neither had this sorceress of the Left Hand whom I had killed, and destroyed, and to whom I had forever denied Deathgate and rebirth.

“You’ll pay for that.”

It took me a moment to realize that the voice was real, and not in my head. I focused on the fellow talking to me, and remembered I was still Sandor.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’ll be paying for that.”

“For—?”

“That.”

He pointed to the remains of a small blue ceramic cup that was in my hand. It had broken cleanly, and I was bleeding a bit, just below the fourth finger. “How much?” I said.

“Six and eight,” he told me.

I nodded, and managed to dig out seven orbs, which I handed to him then walked off without waiting for change.

“You’re bleeding, Boss.”

“Just a little:”

“But you’re dripping it on the ground:”

“So? Oh. Right.”

I cupped my hand, and bought a piece of cheap fabric to wrap it in. I think someone asked what had happened; I don’t remember answering.

I felt better after a few hours. There was a comforting anonymity in being Sandor, maybe because he hadn’t destroyed anyone’s soul. In any case, it finally penetrated that I wasn’t mak­ing progress toward any of the things I needed to accomplish: figuring out what the Left Hand was up to, getting Cawti out of this mess, or figuring out how to keep myself safe from an irate sorceress.

Once more, I felt the desire to just walk into the house on Stranger’s Road, start hacking away with Lady Teldra, and see what happened. Looking back, I have no idea why I’d been so shaken up by what I did to that sorceress yet was able to contem­plate letting my weapon loose on the inhabitants of that house. No, it doesn’t make sense, but I’m giving it to you as I recall it.

In any case, no, I didn’t go charging into the house; I just wanted to.

“Ready to go back, Boss?”

“I’m ready to do something constructive, if I can figure out what.”

“If not, you can always go kill something?’

“I’ve thought about that. But, you know, I sort of want to have an idea of who to kill.”

“Oh, anyone.”

“Just now, that isn’t funny.”

“Yes, it is:’

“I’ll demonstrate funny for you.”