Steven Brust - Hawk

So, Kiera gave her details of the position and composition of the pins, the position of the stepper, the weight of the hammer, and the complex interleaving of spells that would preserve the integrity of the lock, verifying the identity of anyone attempting to open it, and sounding an alert if it was opened.

Litra listened carefully, then said, “I’ve always wanted to go against Heffesca.”

“I’ve always wanted to go against Tudin,” said Kiera.

“Three days,” said Litra.

“I’ll be back then.”

And she was, and she got the jade, and she put it into the hand of the man who’d hired her, and a week later Scaanil’s severed head turned up on the street outside the Undauntra’s Arms, where the sorceress who’d hired Mario for the job ran her business.

And that’s what a very drunk Kiera had told me that evening. Some conversations you remember.

* * *

“Well, yeah, you were kind of drunk.”

“All right. What about my lockpick?”

“Mind if I borrow it?”

She looked at me. “I’m not sure what to ask first.”

“You want to ask why.”

“Yes. You’re right. Why?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why didn’t I see that coming?”

I smiled.

“All right. How long will you need it?”

“Not long. A week at the most.”

“What are the chances that I’ll get it back?”

“Fair. If you’re willing to find my dead, soulless corpse and loot it, they go up to excellent.”

“It’s like that, is it?”

“Isn’t it always?”

“Pretty much.”

She studied me through slitted eyes. “Give me a hint.”

“I might be able to get myself out of trouble with the Jhereg,” I told her, because she deserved to know, and because I knew I’d enjoy watching her face when I said it.

“Really!”

The expression on her face was all I could have wanted. I was beginning to enjoy this.

“Maybe,” I told her. “I’m not sure yet, but, yeah, I just might manage to pull this off. It’ll be tricky, and I’m going to need help, but yeah.”

She nodded and her eyes seemed to light up. “How?”

“By offering them something they want as much as my head.”

“I can’t imagine what that might be.”

“I have a good imagination,” I said.

She glanced around the area again, then turned her attention back to me. “Money, of course. But it would have to be a lot of it. Are you planning to knock over the Dragon treasury?”

“Nothing so direct, or impossible.”

She studied me for a minute or two, then said, “It has to be either a scam, or a new business.”

“A scam would be temporary.”

“That was going to be my next sentence. What’s the business?”

“Remember when I said I don’t want to tell you?”

She looked like she was about to argue, then she said, “All right.”

“So I can use the lockpick?”

“You’re sure it wouldn’t be better to just have me open the lock?”

“I’m sure. I may not even need it. In fact, if things go as I hope, I won’t need it. But if I do, you wouldn’t be-never mind. I’m sure.”

“All right. What’s the best way to get it to you?”

“Do you have any favorite drops?”

“Several. Do you know Filsin’s tannery?”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Go around to the back, face the door, turn and take three paces to your left, and at knee level is a loose stone. The pick will be there by this time tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Kiera.”

“Good luck,” she said. She kissed my cheek again, then she was gone.

I knew what I wanted to do next. I couldn’t think of any way to do it, and it wasn’t at all necessary to my plan, but I wanted to go visit my estranged wife and my son, because if this was going to kill me I really ought to say good-bye. But the Jhereg would be watching her and watching the house.

So much for what I wanted.

I only learned of my son when he was about four. That kind of thing happens when you’re on the run, and is one of the reasons I was tired of running. One of the big reasons. Do you have kids? It’s kind of a big deal. You don’t know how much kids matter until you have one. He was eight now, and I’d only seen him a few times. The last time I’d shown up to see him, he’d smiled and run toward me with his arms out.

Loiosh was silent while I tried and failed to figure out a safe way to see Cawti and Vlad Norathar. Eventually I sighed and said, “All right. On to the next step.”

The bar was still mostly deserted, and no one was paying attention to me.

“What’s the next step, Boss?”

“My old friend Tippy.”

“The money guy?”

“Right. Then a jewelry store.”

“Boss, seeing Tippy is dangerous.”

“What do you suggest instead, Loiosh?”

“You could just rob the jewelry store.”

“What I want, I can’t steal. Besides, that requires a set of skills I don’t have. And what I want in the jewelry store isn’t in the jewelry store. And the money isn’t for that-it’s for, um, incidentals.”

“You’re enjoying this too much, Boss.”

“Indulge me.”

“I still think it would be easier to rob some place than see the money guy.”

“No,” I said.

He didn’t say anything; I got the feeling he was sulking.

“Oh,” I said.

“What?”

“I just figured it out. All those years on the road, when we were robbing the road agents. You liked that, didn’t you?”

“So?”

“You just enjoy robbery.”

“Well, if someone has something, and you want it-”

“I understand. But that isn’t what we’re doing now, Loiosh. This all has to be done right. It’s complicated, and liable to get messy. I can’t risk improvising.”

“All right,” he said.

“Glad I have your permission.”

“Heh,” he said.

Loiosh and Rocza flew out and let me know it was safe. I walked fast but not too fast, heading north toward the harbor, then skirting up Overlook, hooking around and back down Pressman’s Hill to enter the Little Deathgate area by the back door, sort of.

Little Deathgate has a reputation for being one of the roughest areas in the City. It’s not entirely undeserved, but it is exaggerated. As I understand it, it goes back about two hundred years to when there was an especially nasty turf war over control of the area. It was long and bloody and, for the Jhereg, very expensive in both money and Imperial notice. When it finally ended, there were almost no Jhereg operations in the area, and therefore no reason to keep the streets safe. There is, yes, a lot of street crime; but if you’re openly armed and you look like you can handle yourself, you can walk around the area day or night with no real worries, except for any Jhereg assassins who might be looking for you.

I’d been to Tippy’s a couple of times, but it took a bit of looking to find the way amid the tiny, twisting streets, most of which had no names. Eventually, as dark was falling, I recognized the ugly off-white house with two stories and three doors.

“Anything, Loiosh?”

“Seems okay, Boss.”

I stood outside the middle door and clapped three times, then twice more, then twice more. I waited for half a minute, then walked away. I strolled the neighborhood for twenty minutes, then worked my way around to the right-hand back door of the house. I waited for a couple of minutes, then it opened and I stepped inside. I was in a small, square, dimly lit room with two comfortable chairs and one table. Tippy sat in one of the chairs, I took the other. The first time I’d been there, I’d noticed that my chair was more comfortable than his. And would take considerably longer to get out of. That’s the kind of thing you notice. It proved that Tippy was no fool, even if he looked like-