I cleared my throat. “The shelf over at the far end has things I don’t recognize. Mostly metal, and peculiar shapes—some wheels, some devices made of several pieces riveted together, some partly made of leather or something else. Some that remind me of that strange object Sethra has. I would assume they are sorcerous devices of some kind, but I don’t know. I don’t feel like touching any of them. And the last shelf, this one, has more odd contraptions, but I recognize manacles among them.
“Okay,” I continued. “So much for the shelves. The walls are all painted with designs—black paint against a background that doesn’t look like I thought it did—more like a greyish blue. And the designs are, well, probably sorcerous. All geometrical shapes. The walls are covered with them, top to bottom, and there are various symbols scrawled in amongst them. I can draw them for you, if you’d like.”
“Yes,” said Aliera, at the same time Morrolan said, “Perhaps later.”
I grunted. “There is also a table at each end of the room, and chairs around it. All metal, all much larger than any furniture for either you or me. Go figure, huh? Oh, and the ceiling looks the same as it did before, except that there are more lighting devices than I’d thought.
“So, that’s about it. It’s obvious that they’ve done something to my head during this last—how long? eight hours?—or I wouldn’t be seeing this stuff. I’ll leave it up to you clever people whether I’m now being taken in by illusion, or all the rest of you are. If we go by majority, I’d guess it’s me that’s seeing things. And there’s also the fact that Teldra and I never tripped over any of that stuff earlier. And the fact that I can’t imagine why they would have messed with my head to allow me to see what’s really here. Chances are, while I was gone, they did other things as well, to make sure I’d carry out whatever plan they have. But I do want all of you to admire how calm, cool, and collected I am while discussing the fact that my head has been messed with. Okay, your turns.”
Aliera addressed Morrolan. “It’s the rock that interests me most.”
“Yes,” said Morrolan. “Does it sound familiar?”
Aliera nodded. I felt ignored. Loiosh nuzzled my ear. Teldra came over and stood next to me, not saying anything or even looking at me, but it was nice of her.
“I think,” I told her quietly after a moment, “that you ought to leave me out of your plans.”
“Do you feel as if your mind has been tampered with?”
“No.”
“Or probed?”
“No. But it seems likely, doesn’t it?”
“It is possible. But it seems more likely that a glamour has been removed from your eyes than one placed there.”
“Sure. But why? And how, for that matter?”
She shook her head. Meanwhile, Morrolan and Aliera had finished their conference. Morrolan said, “Vlad, we will not be telling you of our plans until we can ascertain whether your mind has been tampered with.”
“Hey,” I said. “Good idea. I should have thought of that myself.”
He answered me with a Morrolan look. I went over and sat down against the wall; I didn’t feel like using the Jenoine’s furniture.
“Okay, Loiosh. You know how we do this.”
“Right now, Boss?”
“Right now.”
Aliera approached. “Vlad, I’m wondering if that rock you describe has any—”
“Not now, Aliera. I’m busy.”
She raised an eyebrow, I suppose wondering if I were kidding.
“I’m having my brain examined. It should only take a few minutes.”
She glanced quickly at Loiosh, then nodded and walked away to continue her conference with Morrolan. I let my head rest against the wall, closed my eyes, and tried to think of nothing. I’ve never been good at thinking of nothing. Loiosh had done this maybe half a dozen times, and he was starting to get good at it; I felt the invasion, but there was less of that rattling, jangling sensation, like being hit on the numbing point of the elbow except in the brain. I sat still and waited it out, thinking of nothing but what was going on inside my head. Thinking about what is going on inside your head is a good way to make yourself miserable, if you haven’t any other methods handy, but there was no way around it. As he sniffed and poked through the nooks and crannies of my thinking gear, I’d get flashes, unbidden, of moments of my past. I remembered the descent into Deathgate, the sight of my hands gripping the ropes, their feel against my palms, and sometimes I’d look down and see the top of Morrolan’s head below my feet, the roar of the falls in my ears. I remembered the feel of Cawti’s breath, fast in my ear, my hand in the small of her back as we explored each other. I remembered the feel of a ship’s deck beneath my feet, the creaking of the sails, and the endless blue-green of the sea. I remembered the Necromancer’s cold, cold fingers on my soul, the edge of Blackwand against my throat, the voice of the Imperial Inquisitor as the Orb circled my head and the Empress looked on, and the laugh of the Serioli who led me by circuitous routes to the Wall of Baritt’s Tomb.
It indicated how much better Loiosh was getting that so few of these memories were unpleasant.
Presently he said, “All right, Boss.”
“All right?”
“All right.”
“What do you mean, ‘all right’?”
“I mean ‘all right.’”
“All right, as in, all is right?”
“That’s the all right I meant, Boss.”
“Okay, I think I got that part. Now the tough one: How certain are you?”
He hesitated. “Pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
“What do you mean, ‘pretty sure’?”
“I mean ‘pretty sure.’
That wasn’t exactly the answer I wanted. I’ve found I often don’t get exactly the answers I want, but I keep asking questions anyway.
“And, Boss—”
“Yes?”
“Now I’m seeing it, too.”
“Well, that’s something then. Either I’m not under a glamour, or you are as well.”
“Heh. I’m a jhereg, Boss. The being hasn’t been spawned that could put a glamour on me.”
“Cocky little son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you?”
“Damn right.”
“I’m back,” I announced to the room in general. No one cheered immediately, but I got a smile from Teldra. I said, “Loiosh believes my brain has probably not been tampered with, for whatever that’s worth.”
“Probably?” said Aliera, frowning.
I shrugged. “Best I can do; take it for what’s it’s worth. And he’s now seeing the same thing I am.”
“Which means,” said Aliera, shrugging, “that perhaps he is under a glamour as well.”
I said, “He’s a jhereg. The creature hasn’t been spawned that could put a glamour on him.”
Aliera frowned, looked over at Morrolan as if to see if he was convinced, then shrugged.
Loiosh said, “Thanks, Boss.”
“No problem, chum.”