“The marks,” he explained, “won’t stay around long enough for me to trace them. If they do, they’ll also be strong enough for him to notice, and he’ll just wipe them out.”
I sighed again. Never argue with an expert.
“All right,” I said, “do you have any ideas for something that would work?”
“Yes,” he said.
I waited, but he didn’t go on. Daymar, I said to myself, some day I’m definitely going to . . . “What is it?”
“The reverse.”
“The reverse?”
He explained. I asked a few questions, and he was able to answer them, more or less.
I began thinking of what kind of spell I’d have to do to get the kind of effect he was talking about. A crystal, I decided, and then I’d start the spell out just like the other one, and then . . . I remembered that Daymar was still in contact with me—which, in turn, brought up another point that I really ought to clarify, given whom I was dealing with.
“Are you willing to do the locating for me?” I asked.
There was a brief pause, then: “Sure—If I can watch you do the witchcraft spell.”
Why am I not surprised? I sighed to myself once more. “It’s a deal,” I said. “How do I get in touch with you? Can I count on finding you at home if I send Loiosh again?”
He thought about that, then: “Probably not. I’ll open up for contact for a few seconds on the hour, each hour, starting tomorrow morning. Will that do?”
“That will be fine,” I said. “I’ll get in touch with you before I start the spell.”
“Excellent. Until then.”
“Until then. And Daymar, thanks.”
“My pleasure,” he said.
Actually, I reflected, it probably was. But it wouldn’t have been politic to say so. The link was broken.
Sometime later, Loiosh returned. I opened the window in answer to his knocking. Why he preferred to knock, rather than just contact me, I don’t know. After he was in, I closed it behind him.
“Thanks.”
“Sure, boss.”
I resumed reading; Loiosh perched on my right shoulder this time, and pretended to be reading along with me. Or, who knows? Maybe he really did learn to read somehow and just never bothered to inform me. I wouldn’t put it past him.
The job was under way. I couldn’t really go any further until I had some idea of where Mellar was, so I turned my attention to who he was, instead. This kept me occupied until my next visitor arrived, a few hours later.
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4
“Inspiration requires preparation.”
My receptionist, in the two years he’d been with me, had killed three people outside the door of my office.
One was an assassin whose bluff didn’t quite work. The other two were perfectly innocent fools who should have known better than to try to bluster their way past him.
He was killed once, himself, delaying another assassin long enough for me to escape heroically out the window. I was very relieved when we were successful in having him revivified. He fulfills the function of bodyguard, recording secretary, buffer, and whatever else either Kragar or I need. He may well be the highest-paid receptionist on Dragaera.
“Uh, boss?”
“Yes?”
“Uh, Kiera is here.”
“Oh, good! Send her in.”
“That’s Kiera the Thief, boss. Are you sure?”
“Quite sure, thank you.”
“But—okay. Should I escort her in, and keep an eye—”
“That won’t be necessary,” (or sufficient, I thought to myself). “Just send her in.”
“Okay. Whatever you want.”
I put down the papers and stood up as the door opened. A small Dragaeran female form entered the room. I recalled with some amusement that I had thought her tall when we had first met, but then, I was only eleven at the time. And, of course, she was still more than a head taller than I, but by now I was used to the size difference.
She moved with ease and grace, almost reminiscent of Mario. She flowed up to me and greeted me with a kiss that would have made Cawti jealous if she were the jealous type. I gave as good as I got, and pulled up a chair for her.
Kiera had a sharp, rather angular face, with no noticeable House characteristics—the lack of which was typical for a Jhereg.
She allowed me to seat her and made a quick glance around the office. Her eyes clicked from one place to another, making notes of significant items. This wasn’t surprising; she’d taught me how to do it. On the other hand, I suspected that she was looking for different things than I would be.
She favored me with a smile.
“Thanks for coming, Kiera,” I said, as warmly as I could.
“Glad to,” she said softly. “Nice office.”
“Thanks. How’s business been?”
“Not hurting, Vlad. I haven’t had any contract jobs in a while, but I’ve been doing all right on my own. How about you?”
I shook my head.
“What is it, problems?” she asked, genuinely concerned.
“I went and got greedy again.”
“Uh, oh. I know what that means. Somebody offered something too big to pass up, eh? And you couldn’t resist, so you’re in over your head, right?”
“Something like that.”
She slowly shook her head. Loiosh interrupted, then, flapping over to her and landing on her shoulder. She renewed their acquaintance, scratching under his chin. “The last time that happened,” she said after a while, “you found yourself fighting an Athyra wizard, right in his own castle, as I recall. That kind of thing isn’t healthy, Vlad.”
“I know, I know. But remember: I won.”
“With help.”
“Well . . . yes. One can always use a little help.”
“Always,” she agreed. “Which, I imagine, brings us to this. It must be something big, or you wouldn’t have wanted to meet here.”
“Perceptive as always,” I said. “Not only big, but nasty. I can’t risk anyone catching wind of this. I’m hoping no one saw you come in; I can’t risk being seen with you and having certain parties guess that I’m letting you in on what’s going on.”
“No one saw me come in,” she said.
I nodded. I knew her. If she said no one had seen her, I had no reason to doubt it.
“But,” she continued, “what are your own people going to say when they find you’ve been meeting me in your own office? They’ll think you’ve finally gone ‘into the jungle,’ you know.” She was smiling lightly; baiting me. She knew her reputation.
“No problem,” I said. “I’ll just let it slip that we’ve been lovers for years.”
She laughed. “Now there’s an idea, Vlad! We should have thought of that cycles ago!”
This time I laughed. “Then what would your friends say? Kiera the Thief, consorting with an Easterner? Tut, tut.”
“They won’t say anything,” she said flatly. “I have a friend who does ‘work.’ ”