I was in a round roomabout as big around as my flat. The lighting was provided by a pair of half-shuttered lanterns, which gave less light than whatever had lit the staircase on the way up, which meant that I wouldn't be able to see much until my eyes adjusted. I suddenly remembered, from the courtyard, seeing a single tower atop Castle Black. That must be where we were.
"Brilliant, Boss."
"Shut up, Loiosh."
"Notice the window, Boss?"
"It's the only thing I can see."
"How come it's night out past the window, and day when we walked up here?"
"I've been wondering the same thing."
"That's creepy."
"Yes, it is."
My eyes began to adjust. There wasn't much to see, just a low table and a couple of wooden chests. There were curtains all around the tower, and a set of curtains pulled aside from the window; hence there were windows all around the tower, several of them. At least six. Fewer than seventeen, which was both a relief and oddly disconcerting.
"Boss, when we saw the tower from below, were there any windows?"
"No."
"I hadn't thought so."
I also noticed that Morrolan was wearing his sword. Since Morrolan wasn't accustomed to walking around his home armed, there had to be an explanation. I wasn't looking forward to it. Especially because "armed" in this case meant Blackwand, one of the seventeen Great Weapons. Its presence did nothing to make me feel better.
He said, "Welcome to the Tower, Vlad."
"Thank you."
"There are very few permitted up here."
"Okay. Would you mind explaining the window?"
"I don't believe you have had the training necessary to understand."
"You're probably right."
"What is important, however, is that I can sometimes make the windows look upon what I wish, and that I can then travel to those places. This can be useful in bringing me to places where I do not have a sufficient mental grasp to teleport, or to a place which lies beyond the confines of what we consider 'the world.' "
"Handy thing to have around. Do you know any place that sells them?"
"And, of course, I can bring anyone I wish with me."
"Uh … I'm not sure I like where this conversation is heading."
"I have been attempting to solve the problem of determining exactly what Fornia took from that room, and the related problem of why I failed to notice anything significant about it."
"That's good, Morrolan. A nice mental puzzle will distract you from"
"Regard the window, Vlad."
"Do I have to?"
But I did, and it was no longer quite black, but had become somewhat grey. A closer look revealed a certain reddish hue amid the grey. And then, near the top, I noticed a bit of orange-red color that seemed a great deal like the sky. The grey had taken on a texture, and suddenly, instead of looking at something mysterious and terrifying, I realized that I was looking at a mountain, with a bit of sky beyond it. Of course, there was no mountain that close to Castle Black, which made it mysterious and terrifying, but you can't have everything.
"Where or what is it?" I said.
"We are looking at Hawk Mountain, in the Kanefthali chain." Something in his voice made me look at him; he was exerting a great deal of effort, more than I'd ever seen from him before.
His left hand was clenched into a fist, turned up, and held stiffly out in front of him at about chin height, the elbow bent. His right hand and arm were moving, going through various gyrations while the fingers extended, contracted, wiggled, twitched, and generally appeared to have a life of their own. Morrolan's eyes were narrowed to slits, and he was breathing loudly, through opened lips, creating a very slight whistling sound through his clenched teeth.
The thought Earth, water, fire, and air came into my mind as I compared left hand, right hand, eyes, and mouth; but I strongly suspect it wasn't anything that simple. I've seen sorcery, and I've seen witchcraft, and this didn't look like either one. I wasn't at all certain I wanted to know what it was.
I looked back through the window, and it seemed to be movingor, more accurately, it seemed as if we were moving.
My knees suddenly felt wobbly and I didn't like it. I looked at Morrolan again, and he was still staring intently through the window. He was making aimless gestures with his hands, and there were beads of sweat on his forehead.
The mountain appeared to rush at us, and I actually felt a falling sensation. I stepped backward and looked for something to brace against. Then it slowed and stopped, and just outside the window, so close I could touch it, was a dirt path leading to a cave that looked to be about forty feet away.
My heart was still racing. I glanced at Morrolan, who now seemed entirely relaxed; only his breathing showed that he had recently exerted himself.
"What's going on?" I managed.
"We're going to ask"
"We?"
"our questions of someone who might know the answers."
"Why 'we'? What am I doing here?"
"Just in case."
"I thought you said there'd be no danger."
"I don't expect there will be."
He stepped through the window, and just like leaving an ordinary window of an ordinary house, he stood on the ground outside, on a rocky path, about forty feet from the entrance to a cave. I sent a suspicious look at the cave. I've never been that fond of caves at the best of times.
"But," continued Morrolan, "it never hurts to have an extra blade along just in case. They can be unpredictable."
"Who is they?"
"The Serioli," he said. "Come on."
"Wonderful," I muttered, and stepped through the window.
Interlude: Maneuvers
Some things you do, you never seem to be done with; years later they come back and remind you, slap you, beat you up. Here I am telling a story of what happened years ago, trying to remember how I felt back then, andwell, forgive the digression, but it belongs here.
Just today, Sethra the Younger returned from exile (Sethra Lavode exiled her off the world a few weeks ago in punishment for, well, never mind what for) and sent word asking me to wait upon her. I don't like her, she doesn't like me, and I couldn't imagine how this could be anything good. And there would be no reason for me to go if I had steered clear of Dragonlords and their business, but since Baritt died I've surrounded myself with them, and now I'm in love with a woman who used to associate with Norathar, who is Dragon Heir to the throne. All of which made it difficult to decline the invitation.
Sorry for the confusionbut that's what happens when you start in the past and the present comes up and bites you. And it's what happens when you hang around with Dragonlords. I'd always thought of Dragons, above all, as simple and straightforwardif something gets in your way, you draw and charge and keep hacking until either it's gone or you are. This is another thing I was wrong about. Watching Sethra put together her campaign, arranging for supplies to be where they were needed, anticipating movements and preparing possible countermarches, guiding her intelligence serviceswell, okay, war is more complex than I'd thought, so I suppose recounting it has to be complex as well.
"What in blazes could Sethra the Younger want of me, other than my life, which I'm not prepared to part with?"
"Couldn't say, Boss. But you know you're going to go find out, so why not admit it?"
There wasn't much answer to that, so I went ahead and made the arrangements, responding through proper channels, and arrived at Castle Black, where she is staying. We met in one of Morrolan's sitting rooms. She is odd; her features remind me quite a bit of Sethra Lavode's but all done in pastels, and Sethra the Younger was without the terrifying sense of agelessness and power; nevertheless, she has her own auraa ruthlessness and lust for power that one might expect in a Jhereg.
She tried not to be obvious about how much she disliked me, but casual conversation was beyond her.