“Yes, sir.”
“Who screamed?”
“I don’t know, sir. I asked Discaru if he knew anything and he told me it was none of my concern.”
Well. Salute me and call me General. I hadn’t expected that. A mysterious scream, just as the manor is appearing at its new location. Another piece fell into place. I let it buzz around in my head for a minute, then I said, “Well, interesting as that is, it isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”
He cleared his throat. “No, I imagine not.”
“And it isn’t about the unpleasantness when we met before, either.”
“Sir?”
“It’s about Hevlika.”
His jaw clenched, and he again fixed his eyes over my shoulder. I waited it out, and he said, “What about her?” His voice was a lot smaller.
“I know what happened. I know who had you expelled from the House.”
“Yes,” he said. “Harro. He was in love with her.”
I blinked. And there was another surprise. “Okay,” I said. “I hadn’t expected you to know that. When did you find out?”
“When he appeared. I suppose a couple hundred years ago.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“There didn’t seem to be anything to say, sir.”
“And you never spoke to her about it?”
“How could I?”
“Yeah, how could you. Tell me something else.”
“Sir?”
“The food. It comes from the old castle, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The servants cook it, bring it through the mirror room?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“Sir?”
“Why not bring staff here? There’s a really nice kitchen, a big pantry. Why not use it?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Good. Yes. Perfect.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, but I think I might be starting to.”
“What—?”
“No, don’t ask. It’s bubbling around in my head, and there are still things I don’t get. But it’s the mirrors, and it’s Discaru, and it’s Zhayin. And it’s the front door.”
“The front door, sir?”
“When I first spoke with Zhayin, he was surprised that I was able to get in, and he was surprised that the front door wouldn’t open. Had you ever gone in or out of that door?”
“Of course. Many times.”
“I mean, since the manor arrived here on the cliff.”
“Oh. No, I haven’t had occasion to.”
“Right. And what about the other door?”
“Sir? What other door?”
“Exactly. A house this size with only one door to the outside?”
“Well, there is the door to the courtyard.”
“Yeah. And there’s one on the side that goes to—have you ever gone out that one?”
“No, sir.”
“Don’t. It’s disturbing.”
“Yes, sir.”
Necromantic paths to alternate worlds, doors that opened to different times but not really because you couldn’t go anywhere—
“Are you all right, sir?”
“I think I’m getting a headache.”
“Would you care for some springroot tea? It has been known to be efficacious—”
“No, no. I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I will figure all of this out.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Adron’s Disaster changed everything.”
“Sir?”
“I’m just starting to realize what that means. You wouldn’t, because you’re living it, it’s part of your life. But I’m getting it.”
“I don’t—”
“Dragaeran history, as it was, started with the explosion that created the Great Sea of Amorphia, and it ended with Adron’s Disaster.”
He got that look you get when you don’t want to rile up the madman. I ignored it and kept going. “Right now, you’re operating on inertia. But none of the old rules apply. Everything’s changing. The Houses. The Cycle. All of it. And you could be part of it, old guy.”
“Yes, sir, no doubt—”
“All you have to do to be part of it is walk up to Hevlika and say, ‘I love you.’ See, I’m the most romantic assas—Easterner you’ll ever meet. But it’s true. That’s how this place, Precipice Manor, came to exist. Part of that same disruption, knocking holes in things. It’s shaken up everything. And one thing it’s going to do is change the Houses. Go ahead. Do it. Just go up to her—”
“I could never.”
I looked at him. I thought about Cawti, and the way she used to look at me, and the way she looked at me now, and I wanted to hit the idiot over the head with a chair. I knew it was none of my business, but I wanted to.
“Fine,” I said. “Tell you what. How about you just go watch her dance. See where it leads from there.”
He sighed. “If only I could.”
“Why can’t you?”
“My duties—”
“Right. I have the feeling your duties are going to be considerably lighter soon. I’d go and watch her when she dances. She likes having an audience.”
“I—all right. And sir?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry.”
“About?”
“Drugging you.”
“Oh. I never blame the dagger for where it’s pointed. Well, almost never.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Look, I’m not trying to tell you your business—no, wait, I am. I just want you to know that I had a talk with Harro, and if you go to the House and claim it was all a lie, he’ll admit it.”
“Sir? He will?”
“Yeah. If you go to the Iorich Wing of the Palace, there’s an advocate named Perisil who can either help you, or point to someone who will. If he’s willing to deal with an Easterner, he’ll be willing to deal with a Teckla. So you can probably fix all of this without ignoring the House thing. But I still think you should. Anyway, think about it, and do whatever you bloody want to.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“That will be all,” I said, because I’ve always wanted to say that to a servant, and I don’t dare say it to Tukko.
Gormin didn’t appear to find it odd; he just bowed and went about his business. I sat there and considered. What I really wanted to do now was ask Discaru a few questions. Unfortunately, I’d made that impossible.
“Boss? Is there a plan?”
“Getting there.”
“I was afraid of that. It worries me when you have a plan.”
“Yeah, me too.”
17. Zhayin’s Heir
I made my way back to that room with the long table and didn’t run into anyone. I walked in like it was no big deal, sat down, and waited. There was some of the emotional deadening I’d felt before, but not as intense—which is an odd word to use about something that removes intensity, but you know what I mean. I waited, and eventually even that passed, and then I said, “Hey, Tethia. It’s Vlad. Got a minute?”
I waited, and after a while my glib words didn’t seem so clever. I was in the middle of trying to come up with some other way to perhaps reach her when Loiosh said, “Boss!”
I turned around and there she was, sitting in a chair on the other side of the table. I looked closely, and from what I could see, the padding on the chair wasn’t compressed the way it would be if she were really there. But I could see her, and presumably we could hear each other, so who cared about the rest? Corporeality is overrated. Taltos. You remember the spelling.