Steven Brust - Hawk

But he’d have done it anyway. So, as old Napper used to say, don’t matter.

Yeah, old Napper. A good guy. Until they stuck a Morganti blade into him.

Verra.

No more time for doubt, no more room for screw-ups, no more attention for self-pity. And I know that somewhere, deep down, I was loving this. Loving it, and hating it, and, above all, doing it. As they tightened their grip on me, I relaxed my legs, so they were carrying all my weight. I couldn’t reach Lady Teldra, and I couldn’t drive my elbows into into their guts.

But I didn’t have to.

They had me gripped so I couldn’t get away, their thumbs carefully placed on the back of my arms, fingers in the direction they didn’t want me to go. I straightened my legs and drove toward them, pushing against their thumbs with my arms, and for just a second I was free of them.

I threw myself between them and into the window behind me.

It came loose like it wasn’t even attached-which it wasn’t-and I went through it. I landed on my right shoulder, which I didn’t like, and I had the wind knocked out of me. My momentum from the jump carried me over the cliff.

It was a long way down. I felt like I had a lot of time. I’m sure I didn’t, really, but it seemed like I did. As I went down I was turning head over heels, but I can’t tell you anything about what I saw. All I recall are flashes of color-gray for the rocks, green for the water, orange-red for the sky. Or maybe my imagination is filling in for what my memory won’t tell me. I don’t know. I fell. I do remember thinking that if I hadn’t had the chains on, I would have been able to use the cleverly designed cloak to slow myself down and, with luck, made sure I landed in a good position.

“Boss?”

“So far, so good.”

Then I hit.

Water is much harder than you think it ought to be. I mean, I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as landing on solid rock, but I’ve landed on solid rock after a long fall, and I sure couldn’t feel any difference. I didn’t lose consciousness; but I wasn’t quite all there as I submerged, either. And, what with the chains and all the other hardware I was carrying, I went down fast.

Breathing was an issue. I didn’t have the amulet on, and spells for breathing underwater are pretty easy. The trouble is, using sorcery then and there felt like calling more attention to myself than I wanted to. It was going to take them a little while to find me, and I needed all of that time. But, in my befuddled state, what is more significant is that it was impossible to get my mind clear and focused enough for sorcery. To blow myself up right then trying to do a water-breathing spell would have made me feel ridiculous.

Besides, that isn’t what I’d planned for, and now was very much not the time to start second-guessing myself. I went ahead with the plan.

I’d like to tell you that it took me five seconds to get out of the chains, but I’m just not that good. Even with Kiera’s lockpick, which I’d been carrying under my collar, it took me the better part of a minute. I had to hunch over to reach them.

And that water was cold, by the way. Very cold. I know that just a little east of that spot is a place where Easterners like to swim on hot days. All I can say is, they’re made of sterner stuff than I am. In any case, the chains were gone, my lungs were bursting, and something in me said, “Wasn’t I just in this position?” But this time, at least, I didn’t have to cut my own throat. I pulled off my rapier sheath, removed the rapier, stuck one of the sheath ends in my mouth, and blew into it as I raised the other end over the surface. I just happened to know how deep the water was in this spot, having recently questioned a kid who had gotten an anchor for me.

You should know that that first good lungful of air is just as good when you haven’t just cut your throat. I mean, in case you’re ever in that position.

Problem solved.

Well, that problem solved. There was still the matter of being a few feet underwater with some killers after me.

“Boss?”

“How are things up there?”

“Warm and dry, Boss. There?”

I should have expected that. “Loiosh, what’s the sit-”

“They’re standing looking over the cliff talking about what sort of locate spell to do.”

“All right. Taking their time, are they?”

“They’ve put a teleport block around the area.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No, a new one. Tighter.”

“All right. You stay out of the way. They have something planned for killing you and Rocza, and that’s a worry I don’t need right now.”

“Got it, Boss. Is it time?”

“Almost.”

“All right. I’m ready.”

I replaced the lockpick under my collar, letting the torsion wrench fall because who cares.

I was at the bottom of the ocean-sea, breathing through a specially designed sword sheath. I’d been carrying it around for years, wondering if it would ever be useful, and here it was. So I was under water, knowing they’d find me soon, with a teleport block in place, and no way to effectively avoid a locating spell.

No problem.

I still had that psychic force buzzing around my skull-diminishing, but not gone. And I had at least a little time before they fished me out of the water, so I might as well do something useful. I couldn’t break the spell on the cord holding Lady Teldra to her sheath, and I couldn’t untie the knot (ever tried untying a wet knot under very cold water?). But I could manage to send my thoughts through the knot, tracing each turn; and once I’d done that, it was a simple matter to loosen it, loosen it more, and then let it fall off.

She came into my hand and I stood up and stepped toward shore, water dripping from my hair.

“Okay, Loiosh. Now.”

“On it, Boss.”

I tossed the rapier sheath aside and climbed out of the water. Lady Teldra was in the form I’d first seen her-an exceptionally long knife, narrow, straight blade, and only the smallest crossguard. And, of course, the tiny gold links that made up her hilt. I re-sheathed her for the moment. I took off my cloak and tossed it aside, because it was wet and very heavy. The harness around my shoulders was now revealed, with various pieces of cutlery hanging from it. Under the circumstances, that was all to the good.

How to get up the cliff? Well, as it happened, there was, just thirty or thirty-five feet away, a set of steps just recently hammered into the stone of the cliff. By recently, I mean yesterday. Steps and handholds, like a ladder built into the rock. Isn’t that a lucky break?

It took me maybe a minute to climb it.

Why, you ask, didn’t they see me?

Well, it’s the oddest thing: just as I got out of the water, there came a thick, heavy fog-a fog that a simple breeze didn’t seem to dissipate. Sure got lucky there, didn’t I?

I could feel the counterspells working on the fog, and I figured I didn’t have long before they managed to get rid of it. Well, fine, then. I opened the little box, withdrew the amulet, and slipped it around my neck. I could no longer sense the magic. Right around then, the fog dissipated, and there were the Jhereg. Three bosses, three sorcerers, and ten hired thugs.

And there was me, more or less in the middle of them, holding Lady Teldra, who had changed shape, and now resembled a rapier, light and useful in my hand. I felt bad for the hired thugs. I used to be one myself.

Loiosh and Rocza came and landed on my shoulders, looking at those surrounding me, and hissing. In direct violation of my orders. Shows you how useful orders are, doesn’t it?