“Not entirely, at any rate. May I join you?”
Telnan hadn’t appeared to recognize the name.
“By all means, if my friend doesn’t mind. His name is Telnan, by the way.” I trust my voice was even, and I sounded sufficiently calm.
“Hi,” said Telnan, smiling.
Mario Greymist inclined his head and smiled back.
I addressed my familiar: “Loiosh, you’re about to draw blood.”
“Sorry, Boss.”
He relaxed his grip on my shoulder. Vili shuffled a chair over from another table, placing it to my left and Telnan’s right. If Mario Greymist decided to join us for dinner, the table would be crowded. The three of us sat down.
“Boss, if he’d wanted to kill you ...”
“I know, I know.”
“I take it,” said Mario, “that you’ve heard of me?” He smiled. The smile of a downstairs neighbor who has just thanked you for loaning him half a pound of coffee.
“Yeah,” I said. I was at my cleverest.
“I haven’t,” said Telnan.
Mario and I looked at the Dzurlord. I said, “Uh ...”
“Never mind,” said Telnan.
“Don’t let me interfere with your meal,” said Mario.
I looked at him. He seemed to be sincere. I said, “Feel like having something to eat?”
“No, thank you. I won’t be here that long.”
I almost said, “Good,” but caught myself. Mihi approached and asked the same question of Mario, and got the same answer. He then asked me if we’d care for wine. We would. He could recommend—fine. I trusted him, just bring whatever he thought best. He bowed.
Mario.
He was to assassins what Kieron the Conqueror was to soldiers. Except that Kieron was dead. Mario had assassinated an Emperor before the Turning of the Cycle, at least according to the stories. When the Phoenix Guards couldn’t solve a murder, they’d say, “Mario did it,” meaning the case would never be solved. There is a story (probably not true) of a guy who was told that Mario was after him who simply brought himself to Death-gate and threw himself over the Falls.
And Mario was sitting across the table from me, and smiling a friendly sort of smile.
It was almost enough to put me off the food.
“Hey, Boss.”
“What?”
“How do you know he’s really Mario?”
“Hmmm ... good point. But do you know anyone who’d claim to be Mario if he wasn’t?”
“Well, no. But still.”
“Yeah.”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. It was about as non-threatening a position as he could take, without making it painfully obvious that he was trying to look non-threatening. He said, “Of course, you’re aware that you’ve annoyed some people.”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s been made clear to me.”
Telnan turned to me. I didn’t feel like giving explanation to a Dzur, so I didn’t.
Mario said, I guess to both of us, “There are two things you don’t do: talk to the authorities about the association, and—”
“Association?” I said.
He smiled. “An old term. The Organization? The—?”
“I see.”
“I don’t,” said Telnan.
“Tell you what, Loiosh. You take the Dzur out and explain to him.”
“Uh huh.”
Out loud, Mario and I ignored him. I nodded. Mario continued, “Talk to the authorities about us, and interfere with our Imperial representative. You did both. Well, one and a half, anyway.”
“I didn’t tell the Empire anything about the, uh, Association. Not really.”
“Close enough to annoy people.”
“I suppose.”
“But you know that.”
I nodded. “In the last few years of wandering the world dodging them, it’s become more-or-less clear. I assume, at some point, you were offered the job?”
He looked directly at me. At the same time, I felt an odd little twinge from somewhere in the back of my head, as if there were a voice whispering just too softly for me to hear. I decided now wasn’t the time to think about that twinge, and what it implied.
“Sorry,” I told Mario. “Improper question.”
His nod was barely perceptible. He said, “You’re taking something of a chance coming here, aren’t you?”
Loiosh shifted slightly on my shoulder; in response, Rocza shifted on my other. Telnan said, “I’m here.”
“Yes,” said Mario. “Of course.”
“Not so much,” I said. “You know how we ... that is, you know how things are done. By the time word gets out that I’m here, and someone sets something up, I’ll be far from the city.”
“That’s why you were so relaxed when I walked in.”
“Yeah, that’s why.”
He nodded. “There are rumors that you’ve acquired a rather formidable means of defending yourself.”
I felt the length of Lady Teldra hanging from my left hip, just in front of my rapier. I didn’t touch her, though I wanted to. “No,” I said. “They aren’t rumors. You were flat-out told, and from a reliable source.”
“Well, that too.”
Which, I figured, was as close as I was ever going to get to confirming the stories I’d heard—that the most famous assassin in the history of the Dragaeran Empire was the lover of Aliera e’Kieron, second in line as Dragon Heir, and head of the most prestigious line of the House of the Dragon. It was amusing. Or something.
So as I sit here, between Valabar’s Kermeferz and the Jhereg’s Mario Greymist, and await my wine with a strange Dzurlord for company, maybe I should tell you a little bit about myself. Hmmm ... then again, maybe not.
Mihi showed up with the wine, asking me to approve the bottle. I nodded. I was sure it was a bottle. He used the feather and, with the aid of a thick glove taken from his back pocket, the tongs. He opened it and poured without flourish. Jani, my other favorite waiter, always made it look like opening the bottle was an occasion for major triumph. It’s the little stylistic things that differentiate us, don’t you think?
I leaned back in the chair like I didn’t have a worry in the world and said, “Care for some wine?”
Telnan did, Mario didn’t. Mihi poured and left the bottle. I nodded, sipped, and waited for Mario to go on.
“Good wine,” said Telnan. I doubted he’d know the difference. But I could be wrong.
Mario shifted in his chair, and, for just a moment, looked uncomfortable. Before the shock really had time to register, he said, “You know Aliera.”
Well, yes, I knew Aliera. That is, I knew her as well as any “Easterner” (read: human) could know a “human” (read: Dragaeran). I knew she was short, as Dragaerans go; not much over six feet tall. I knew she had a lethal temper and the skill in sorcery to back it. I knew, well ...
“Yeah,” I said. “I suppose, in some measure, anyway.”
He nodded. “She asked me to speak with you.”
That was certainly worth an eyebrow. “She’s concerned about my safety?”
He frowned. “Well no, not really.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“There are others she’s concerned about.”
“Are you going to make me guess?”
He sighed and looked unhappy.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m guessing. Since she sent you, it has to have something to do with the Organization, since Aliera would never publicly demean herself by admitting she had anything to do with criminals.”
Telnan and Mario both glanced at me, and I felt myself flushing. “Uh, I hadn’t meant to exactly include you in that,” I told Mario.
He nodded. “Continue, then. You’re doing well.”
Unfortunately, having gotten that far, I drew a blank. If Aliera was in trouble with the Organization, which I couldn’t imagine, Mario could do anything I could do. And if the Organization was in trouble in some way, it was no longer a concern of mine; I no longer had any interest or connections in their doings, with the possible exception of—