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“I—you make it sound pitiful.”

“No, pitiful is how you arranged for Gormin to be expelled from the House, just to get him out of the way.”

“Out of the way? I had no idea they were involved!”

As he said that, he took his eyes from the knife and looked at my face. I believed him.

“So, it was just to get his job? You made up the part about them being involved, had no idea it was true, and used it so you could get his job to be close to her? Really?”

He looked down again, at the floor now, not the knife. I took it as a yes.

“How long have you known that you’re a complete moron?”

“About two hundred years.”

“Here’s what I don’t get—no, here’s one of about a thousand things I don’t get. How is it that, back then, after you’d managed to get Gormin’s job by being a slimy worm with no more decency than your basic suckerfish, Hevlika never saw you? I mean, never even knew you were there?”

“How did you—”

I smacked the flat of the blade against my hand. He swallowed and changed his mind. “That was at Lord Zhayin’s orders, my lord.”

“But how?”

“It wasn’t difficult. I stayed away from the theater, and from her chambers. She never mingled. Back then, she either saw Lord Zhayin, or she’d visit the village.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“How long did that go on?”

“It wasn’t long, my lord. Only until the manor could be occupied, which was less than a hundred years ago. Most of the time has been spent working on the sorcery, you know, not the construction. Once the household—that is, Lord Zhayin, and Lord Discaru, and Gormin, and Odelpho, had taken up occupancy here, he no longer minded. That’s when Hevlika and I actually met.”

I nodded. “Good. Down to nine hundred and ninety nine.”

“My lord?”

I shook my head. “Then answer me this: Why?”

“Why what, my lord?”

“Why didn’t Zhayin want the two of you to meet?”

“I don’t know, my lord.”

“Um. Humor me. Take a guess. I won’t hold it against you if you’re wrong. I’m holding so much against you now there’s no more room anyway.”

He spread his hands.

“Why?” I repeated.

He looked thoughtful. “I don’t know, but, well, he was very secretive about everything in those days. He was always careful who spoke to whom, and we suspect that Discaru would sometimes cast listening spells on us. Perhaps it was part of that?”

“Huh,” I said. “And he isn’t like that anymore?”

“It’s different now,” he said.

“Go on.”

“Now he just tries to limit the intercourse between here and the old castle. The servants who bring the food are all deaf, and those of us here are forbidden to journey back there. I wouldn’t know how to, but I know it’s done, because of the food.”

“So, that’s why there are no guards here. He doesn’t want to bring them from the past. But then, why not hire some from here and now? And cooks as well?”

“I don’t know, my lord. Maybe he will. It’s only just been finished.”

“All right,” I said. “I think I’ve gotten as much from you as I can.”

“What are you going to do with me, my lord?”

I shrugged. “I should probably kill you, you know. Just to put you out of your misery.”

He made no response whatsoever.

“Are you inclined to live, Harro?”

“My lord?” He swallowed. “Yes, my lord.”

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere. Well, I mean, I am, I’m leaving this place as soon as I figure out how. But I’ll still be in the area. And if, by chance, someone starts taking legal action to become reinstated in his House, and if in the process you’re questioned, you’ll cooperate, and you won’t lie. Because if you lie, you die. Is there an understanding between us?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good. Okay, tell me something else, then. Why did you stay? To be near her, because you liked the work, or just inertia?”

“All of those, I think,” he told the floor between his feet.

The floor didn’t seem impressed.

I looked at him; he avoided looking at me. “Never mind,” I said. “I think you’ve managed to make yourself more miserable than anything I could do. Go be miserable. Don’t say anything, just get out of here, and do whatever it is you do. If I want anything, I’ll ring.”

He didn’t even say “Yes, my lord,” which might give you an idea of what kind of shape he was in.

The door closed behind him. I hoped this would all be over soon; I was hungry.

16. On the Night of the Surly Mood

I gave Harro time to get clear, then left the room and made my way back to the ballroom, then up to the balcony, and to the door to the theater. I stood in front of it, took a breath, and opened it.

And I was sitting down.

That transition was one of the hardest to get used to. I wasn’t in the same seat as before, but almost; maybe one forward and two to the side or something. That, by itself, would mean a great deal to someone who wasn’t me.

There was no sign of Hevlika, so I settled in to wait. I’m not sure why I was so convinced that sooner or later she would show up, but I was, and in maybe a bit less than half an hour, she did; just walking onto the stage. She noticed me at once, because she always noticed her audience. She’d said so.

She jumped down from the stage, walked up, and sat down in the chair next to me. As per protocol, she stared straight ahead.

“You really don’t recognize me?” I said.

“Of course I do. You were here yesterday.”

“I mean from before.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We met before, at a house called the Seven Jewels.”

She frowned for a minute, then turned and looked at me. “That was you?”

I nodded.

She scrutinized my face with no sign of recognition—maybe we really do all look the same. Then she glanced at my left hand, and said, “Yes, I remember.”

I nodded.

“How is it possible?”

“It’s complicated.”

“But Easterners—”

She broke off.

“Yeah,” I said. “We don’t generally live that long. I cheated.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either, entirely. But that conversation we had a few hundred years ago? That was a few hours ago for me.”

“The manor.”

“Yeah.”

“Who are you?”

“Vladimir Taltos, Count of Szurke by the grace of Her Majesty, former Jhereg, current traveler, nehixta, and connoisseur of fine food and drink.”

“I don’t recognize that one word. Is it Serioli?”

“No, one of the languages of the cat-centaurs. I was called that once. She translated it to ‘one who cuts himself twice on the same knife.’”

“It doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“I got the feeling it was mostly used of children who won’t learn to stay out of things they should leave alone. Somewhere I’m sure there is a desecrator who could explain the full cultural significance and get it entirely wrong.”

“I don’t recall much of our last conversation. Just that you asked a lot of questions.”

“And I warned you not to trust Harro.”

She frowned. “Yes, I sort of remember that. I know I don’t trust him.”