“Welcome to my home,” said the Dark Lady of Dzur Mountain. “Please come with me.”
“Always a pleasure,” I said, and we followed her up to the sitting room, where she asked if we cared for wine.
“Klava,” I said. “I was promised klava.”
Sethra smiled. “And you?” she asked Teldra. “The same?”
“If you please.”
Tukko emerged, shuffling, blinking, and twitching.
“Klava,” said Sethra Lavode.
Tukko did an imitation of a snake testing the air, gave a twitch that might have been a nod, and shuffled out again.
I watched him leave by a far door. “Just how old is he?” I asked.
“Younger than I am,” said Sethra.
I nodded. “I just asked to give you another chance to be enigmatic.”
“I know.” She studied me. “You are looking well, Vlad.”
“The outdoor life agrees with me,” I said.
She went through the motions of smiling, and said, “And you, Lady Teldra. It is good of you to come, and I thank you for bringing our wandering Easterner with you.”
“It was only my duty, Lady,” said Teldra. “I must, in turn, thank you for your help, and your hospitality.”
The mention of hospitality was Tukko’s cue to emerge with a tray bearing two mugs of klava, a jar of honey, and a pot of thick cream. Teldra received hers with a smile of thanks; she took her klava as it came. I fiddled with mine until it looked right. It tasted right, too. I had missed it even more than I thought I had.
“The simple pleasures of civilization,” I said. “I haven’t tasted klava since Northport.”
Sethra didn’t bat an eye at the mention of Northport, even though—never mind. She said, “Perhaps we should turn our attention to business. Or would you rather wait until you’ve finished your drinks?”
“No, no,” I said. “Drinking klava while talking business brings back all sorts of pleasant memories of happier days when I could sit around with like-minded fellows, contemplate my various affairs, and decide whose leg should be broken that morning.”
Neither of them gave me the satisfaction of reacting, but Loiosh said, “You’re so sentimental, Boss, that I almost can’t stand it,” and flew back to my shoulder, evening up the weight. Rocza, by the way, had not moved the entire time. Presently, Tukko returned, this time with a tray full of some kind of raw dead thing, and set it down on the stone table in front of me. Loiosh and Rocza flew down and began nibbling. Neither Sethra nor Teldra jumped when they flew down. This is significant because pretty much anyone will be startled by a winged thing suddenly flying right in front of him.
I noticed for the first time that Tukko’s hands always seemed to shake, but when he was carrying a tray, the tray never shook. I wondered if his various ills were an act, and, if so, why?
“I thank you on behalf of my familiar,” I said.
“You and they are most welcome,” said Sethra.
I sipped more klava. Damn, but I had missed that stuff.
“Morrolan and Aliera are both alive,” said Sethra abruptly. “Or, at least, they were alive yesterday. They have, therefore, achieved a state where we cannot communicate with them. That means they are either surrounded by gold Phoenix Stone, or they have left the confines of our world. And, until we know otherwise, we must assume they are being held against their will, and that must involve someone with a great deal of power—perhaps even a god, though I consider that unlikely. No, I fear what we are facing is rather more powerful than a god.”
“Good,” I said. “I wouldn’t want it to be too easy.”
“No, Vlad. Wrong response. You should say, ‘How can I help?’”
I snorted. “If I say that, you’re liable to tell me.”
“There’s that danger,” she admitted.
“What do you think happened?”
“I have no idea.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sethra.”
“Vlad!” said Sethra and Teldra together, in entirely different tones.
“Oh, stop it. Sethra, my whole lifetime has been less than the flap of a wing to you, but to me, I’ve known you for a long time. You wouldn’t have sent for me without knowing something, or at least having a strong suspicion.”
“Vlad—”
“No, Sethra. Don’t even. Morrolan used to pull that stuff on me. Go, do this, but I’m not going to tell you any of the reasons behind it. My bosses in the Jhereg were experts at it: Kill this guy, you don’t need to know what he did. I’m done with that sort of rubbish. Where are Morrolan and Aliera, why are they missing, and what is all the other stuff you aren’t telling me?”
Lady Teldra opened her mouth, but I cut her off. “No,” I said. “I won’t go into it like this. I want to know.”
“Do you, then?” said Sethra, almost whispering. There was something in her voice I had never heard before: something chilling, and powerful, and very dark. I was in the presence of the Enchantress of Dzur Mountain, and I was daring to question her. For one of the few times since I’d known her, I felt the power of legend bearing down on me; I sat there, silent, and took it; I could say nothing, but I didn’t crumble, either. She said, “Do you really want to know, Vladimir Taltos, Easterner, Jhereg, and renegade?”
“Yes,” I said, though it took considerable effort; and even more effort to keep my voice level.
“And if I don’t tell you, what then? You’ll leave Morrolan e’Drien and Aliera e’Kieron to their fate? Is that what you’re telling me?”
I looked into her eyes, which I discovered I had been avoiding. They were black and went on far past forever; the focus on me was terrible. I controlled my breathing as if I were fencing, or reaching the climax of a spell. “Are you going to make this a test of wills, Sethra? Is that it? You will threaten to leave them to their fate if I won’t help, or I must threaten if you won’t answer my questions? Is that how you want to play this game?”
“I don’t want to make it a game, Vladimir Taltos.”
Looking into her eyes, I saw again Aliera’s face as I returned to life after the Sword and the Dagger of the Jhereg had taken me down; and I saw Morrolan in his Great Hall defending me from the Sorceress in Green, and, I recalled faces, incidents, and conversations that I didn’t want to remember. Then I cursed. “All right,” I said. “If you push it, you’ll win. You’re right. I owe them both too much. If one of us needs to back down, I will—I’ll go run your Verra-be-damned errand for you, like a two-orb street Orca hired to bust heads. But—”
“Then I’ll answer your questions,” said Sethra, and I shut my mouth before I made things worse. “I’ll answer you,” said Sethra, “because you’re right, you deserve to know. But I will speak of matters I have no wish to reveal so, damn you, be grateful.”
“I’ll be grateful,” I said.
Teldra stood abruptly. “I shall be in the library,” she said, “in case you—”
“Please,” said Sethra. “I wish you to stay.”
“I ... very well,” said Lady Teldra, and sat down again.
Tukko emerged, and I realized that my klava had gotten cold. He replaced it, freshened Teldra’s, and left.
“Where should I begin?” she mused. I held my tongue in check and waited.
“Perhaps,” she said, “I should ask: Who are the gods? No, I’ve already taken a false step. That is not the question: Ask, rather, What are the gods? What freaks of chance, what hidden talents, what cataclysmic events combined to produce those whom your people worship, and mine strive to emulate? What are they, why are they, what do they do? Is their power acquired only because there are those who worship them? Is their power, in fact, imaginary? There are no simple answers to the question you have asked, because everything is tied to everything else.”
I drank klava, and listened.
“Part of the answer to the question I have posed is this: The gods are beings who are able to manifest in at least two places at once, and yet who are not subject to the forcible control of any other being; this latter marking the difference between a god and a demon.” That much, actually, I knew already, but I let her continue. “An interesting ability, and one that implies many others. The Jenoine, for all their talents and skills, cannot be in two places at once. Many of the gods, of course, can be in many, many places at once. I don’t understand entirely how it works; I am neither god nor demon.”