When the two miles or so of the bridge were behind me, I found a cabriolet and had myself brought north to a district that overlooked the docks. A few miles away, on the other side of the river, were the slaughterhouses; on this side were houses: public, private, and ware, as well as the stalls of the poorer craftsmen and the shops of the more prosperous ones.
It was becoming dark as I entered a house whose sign depicted a ship’s lantern hanging from a mast. There would, I suspected, be a lot of Orca in here. There were a lot of Orca in all the taverns in this part of Adrilankha, so it wasn’t a terribly daring guess.
It was a long, narrow room. I spotted a door on the far end that would, no doubt, lead to smaller rooms. Near the door was a small raised area for musicians. And standing near it was a pale-looking Dragaeran in blue and white, holding some sort of instrument with lots of strings and an oddly curved body.
Years before I had made a deal with the Minstrels’ Guild; expensive, but one of the smarter things I’d done. You don’t need to hear the whole conversation. I showed him a ring I carry, asked him a couple of questions, got a couple of answers, and slipped him some coins. Then it was out the door quickly, before some of those looks I was getting from the assembled Orca turned themselves into action which would result in more attention than I cared for.
I followed the musician’s directions, which took me west a bit less than a mile. I want to say something like, “No one tried to kill me,” just to let you know that the whole being killed thing was never far from my mind; but it’ll be played out pretty fast, so if I don’t say anything about it, you can assume I didn’t get killed.
This house, marked by a newly painted sign showing a sleeping dog, was a bit larger than the last and more nearly square. The stage was off to the left, and the fellow I was looking for was standing next to it, holding a wide, curved drum.
“Aibynn,” I said after the twenty steps or so between the doorway and the stage.
He blinked a couple of times, as if the word were in some foreign language, then gave me a smile. “Hey, Vlad,” he said. “I got a new drum.”
“Yeah,” I told him. “That’s why I came back.”
“Oh? You’ve been away?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Aibynn was thin even for the thin Dragaerans, and as tall as Morrolan. He was not native to the Empire; I’d met him on an island while involved in a complicated business involving a god, a king, an empress, political conspiracies, and other sundry entertainments. Of all the Dragaerans I’d ever met, he was the one I understood the least, but also one of the few I was certain had no interest in using me for his purposes.
We found a table and sat down. A barmaid gave him something clear, batted her eyelashes at him, and then remembered to ask if I wanted anything. I didn’t.
Aibynn said, “You sticking around for the show? I’m playing with this guy—”
“Probably not,” I said. “To tell you the truth, I don’t actually like music.”
“Yeah, neither do I,” said Aibynn.
“No, I mean it,” I said.
He nodded. “Yeah, me too.”
Aibynn was a musician. I wasn’t.
I said, “It’s not like I’m tone-deaf or anything. And, I mean, there are some things I like. Simple tunes, that you can hum, with words that are kind of clever. But most things that people call real music—”
“Yeah,” said Aibynn. “Sometimes I want to be just done with the whole thing.” As he spoke, his fingers were drumming on the tabletop. I don’t mean tapping, like I might do if I were bored, I mean drumming—making complex rhythms, and doing rolls, and frills. He seemed entirely unaware of what his fingers were doing. But then, Aibynn usually seemed entirely unaware of most of what was going on.
“I don’t think he’s going to get it, Boss,” said my familiar.
“I think you’re right, Loiosh.”
“Anyway,” I said, “I actually came because there are some questions I wanted to ask you.”
“Oh.” He said it as if it had never before occurred to him that he might know the answer to any conceivable question. “All right.”
“You used to go to South Adrilankha fairly often. Do you still?”
His eyes widened slightly, but from him that didn’t mean much. “Yes, I do. The Easterners have an instrument called—”
“Is this guy bothering you?”
We both glanced up. A particularly ugly specimen of Orcahood was speaking to Aibynn. Funny how differently people react to you when you aren’t dressed as a Jhereg.
Aibynn frowned at the fellow, as if he had to translate. I reached for my rapier, but my hand came in contact with the hilt of Lady Teldra instead. I leaned back in my chair, and waited for Aibynn to answer.
He said, “No, no. We’re friends.”
The Orca gave him an odd look, started to say something, then shrugged and shuffled off. Five years ago, there would have been blood on the floor. Ten years ago, there would have been a body. I guess I’d changed.
I returned my attention to Aibynn.
“Do you know the area called Six Corners?”
He nodded. “I used to play at a place there called, uh, I don’t know what it’s called. But, yeah.”
“Good. That was going to be my next question.”
“What was?”
“Never mind. Tell me about the place.”
“Well, the acoustics are really nice because—”
“No, no. Uh ...”
Eventually I managed to get the information I wanted, and even to communicate what I wanted him to do. He shrugged and agreed because he had no reason not to. I got out of the place without any untoward incidents, and slipped around behind it to give myself time to figure out my next move.
“Think that’s going to do any good, Boss?”
“Any reason not to have it set up, just in case?”
“Well, no, I guess not. Rocza is hungry.”
“Already?”
“Boss, it’s been hours.”
“But it was Valabar’s. Doesn’t that count extra?”
“I’m sure it does in some ways—they’ve found you, Boss?”
“Huh?”
“Boss, someone just found you.”
“How ... what?”
“I don’t know. I felt something. You’re being looked at.”
“Through you?”
“I don’t know?”
As we were talking, I was moving—walking as quickly as I could without appearing to rush. I passed a few tradesmen and Teckla, none of whom paid any attention to me. I turned right onto a street whose name I didn’t know.
I carried a charm that prevented anyone from finding me by sorcery. I was also protected against witchcraft, just on the off-chance the Jhereg would use it. There are other arcane disciplines, to be sure, but could they be used to track me? I wished I knew more.
Sethra Lavode had once located Loiosh. That was one possibility. But there weren’t many Sethra Lavodes in the world. Could they have tracked Lady Teldra, even inside her sheath? If I were given to muttering, I’d have muttered.
Loiosh and Rocza took off from my shoulders, to keep an eye on things from above, and so that, if it was Loiosh who had been located, I wouldn’t be in his immediate proximity. I guess it was having the Bitch Patrol on my mind, but I kept seeing visions of some sorceress showing up in front of me and blasting me to pieces before I could move.
Okay, I had three choices. I could find an alley where they had to come at me from one direction, and wait. I could gamble that I could remove the amulet and complete a teleport before they showed up. Or I could keep moving until I thought of something else.