Стивен Браст - Tiassa

Rocza flew close enough that I felt the psychic equivalent of an indrawn breath from Loiosh, but the thing stopped long enough to swipe at her, and that gave me a moment to pull a shuriken from my cloak and—here’s hoping—whip it at the damn thing’s eye.

Almost. It hit it where its eyebrow would have been if it had one, which caused it to flinch for a second, at which time the shuriken fell to the ground; it didn’t even stick. Really? I backpedaled, pulled another, tried again, whipping it like a throwing knife, overhand, which sacrificed a little accuracy for force.

The shuriken went flying over its shoulder and I turned and sprinted down the hall. Was the armory near by? Was there anything in the armory that would help? I could see the advantage of having a halberd, I just couldn’t see the possibility of finding it and taking it and positioning it before that thing crushed me.

I tossed a knife over my shoulder and heard it clank. Stupid—the thing wasn’t smart enough to slow down. There were more flapping sounds. Then I had a great idea: there’s a pocket that I had tailored in the back of my cloak to keep various odds and ends, and one of them was a small vial of oil that I’d use to keep doors from squeaking, and I realized that I might be able to spill it on the floor and make the thing slip. Two problems: one, pulling something from the back of my cloak without slowing down enough for it to get me, and two, I no longer carried the oil.

But it was a really good idea, wasn’t it?

When I felt its breath on the back of my neck I stopped and dropped to the ground, fully prone, fists clenched against my head, elbows locked at my sides, then I said something like “Ugh” as its foot hit my left arm enough to numb it and make me wonder if I’d broken it. It went sprawling. I didn’t even wait to stand up, I just sort of got to my knees and leapt on top of it, Lady Teldra first.

It was already rising, but Lady Teldra went into its side nearly to the hilt, and then I was flying through the air, and I swear to you by my hope of rebirth, I hit the Verra-be-damned ceiling. Then, presumably, I fell to the floor, though I don’t exactly remember that part.

Some time later—Loiosh says about ten minutes—I sat up and looked around. I knew I’d been in a fight, and I figured I’d probably won, but I couldn’t make it come together. Eventually I spotted the big, ugly thing with Lady Teldra sticking out of it just above where people have a hip, and I wobbled over there and drew her, and cleaned her off on the thing’s body as my brain reconstructed the events.

I stared at it. At him. Poor bastard. Toddler goes wandering off, gets possessed by a demon, or maybe just warped by one, I don’t know, and then spends I don’t know how long locked in a little room and then ends up like this. I felt bad for him.

Then I ended up needing a minute for introspection. I felt bad for him? Since when did I start feeling bad for people I had to kill? Well, yeah, but this wasn’t the usual thing. Other times, what led me to kill them was a result of their own decisions. This thing, this person, had never made any decisions. It had all happened to him, and then I had happened to him. A lousy way for a life to go. And there wasn’t even, really, anyone to blame for it. I hate it when I don’t have anyone to blame. I usually get out of it by blaming Verra.

Verra. Sheesh.

“Boss? What happened when you vanished?”

“Loiosh, when we get out of this, you and I are going to have a long talk about it, and maybe you can make sense of it.”

“Uhhh. I can’t wait?”

I took a last look at the poor creature I’d just killed, then turned away.

Well done, Vlad. You lived. You’ve also almost certainly pissed off a few people as soon as they find the big white naked, ugly dead guy. I wasn’t sure there was anyone left in the place I had any reason to be afraid of, but I couldn’t be completely sure there wasn’t either.

I went back and stood in front of the mirrors. I had dried blood on the side of my face, and it looked like I was developing a black eye.

“ Boss, you’re beautiful.”

“Shut up.”

I checked to see if my hands were shaking. Is it strange that I needed to look? Anyway, they weren’t shaking much. I was convinced these mirrors were the answer, or at least a big part of it. That when I’d struck one with Lady Teldra I’d been transported to Verra’s Halls, and that the beast had come after me, seemed like good evidence that I was right.

“Boss? Any ideas?”

“No. You?”

“Yeah. Let’s just kill everyone we meet and see if that does anything.”

“Not the dancer. I liked her.”

“You’re getting soft.”

I looked over at the body. Did I need to hide it? I wasn’t sure how I could, but did I need to? No, I guess of all the ways things could go down, being arrested for that particular murder was the least likely.

And no one was here anyway—

The door I’d just closed opened. I pressed myself against a wall and let a dagger drop into my hand, and I waited.

And stick me with flags and call me a fair if three servants, each holding a tray of food, didn’t come walking out, cool as you please, as if emerging from a room full of mirrors were the most natural way in the world to serve dinner. They didn’t turn around, they didn’t appear to see the dead lump of monster not twenty feet away from them; they just went down the spiral stair, not marching, but walking at the same pace; there was almost an air of ritual about it. I moved so I could keep watching as they went out the door of the ballroom.

“Boss? What—?”

“I have no idea. Don’t even ask.”

“But you remember those three—”

“I remember.”

I went back down the stairway and out the door, catching sight of them as they turned a corner. I stayed a good distance back and followed the long twisty path. Two of the servants stopped in the kitchen; the third continued on. As I passed the kitchen I heard voices: the servants, then, taking their meal. I reached the passage to the first corridor I’d come to and stuck my head around as the servant went into the room where Zhayin had been.

So, that’s why the kitchen was empty: the food was brought in from the other place. From the past. They cooked food in the past and brought it to the present. Sure, why not? Why had I never done that? Everyone should do that.

“Loiosh, have I gone completely down the well?”

“Maybe.”

“Thanks.”

I tried to put the stuff Verra had told me out of my head, because it wasn’t helping me with this.

It was tempting to just go rushing in and have a talk with Zhayin, demand some answers. But I wasn’t sure he’d give them to me, and then I’d probably get mad and kill him, and besides, it’s rude to interrupt someone’s dinner.

I went back to the little room just before the ballroom and shut the door behind me. Finally, I was doing something I was good at, had done before, and was confident I could do with quiet competence: waiting. It was most of an hour, but then I heard the footsteps, the same slow, deliberate pace.

I waited until they were past me, then stuck my head out, and, yes, all three were there, bringing the dirty dishes and leftovers back to the past, to clean the dishes and give the leftovers to the kethna or the other servants. Once they were past me, I waited for another minute, then followed them from a good distance. I was just coming up the stairs when they coolly disappeared once more into the mirror room. They still hadn’t realized there was a body there.