Teckla (21 page)

I took a step toward her, and her eyes grew wide and she backed up half a step. I don't know what would have happened if she hadn't, but that was sufficient to give me enough control to turn and leave the house.

"Boss, no! Not outside!"

I didn't answer him. In fact, his words didn't even penetrate until the cool evening breeze hit my face. Then I understood that I was in some sort of danger. I thought of teleporting to Castle Black, but I also knew that I was in no state of mind to teleport. On the other hand, if I were attacked, that would suit my mood perfectly.

I started walking, keeping as tight a control on myself as I could, which wasn't very. Then I remembered the last time I'd gone charging around the city with no regard for who saw me, and that sent chills through me, which cooled me down a bit and I became more careful. A little more careful.

But I have to think that Verra, my Demon-Goddess, watched over me that night. Herth had to have had Quaysh and everyone else looking for me, yet I wasn't attacked. I stormed through my area, looking at all the closed shops, at my office with yet a few lights burning, at the dead fountain in Malak Circle, and I wasn't even threatened. While I was in Malak Circle I stopped for a while, sitting at the edge of the crumbling fountain. Loiosh looked around anxiously, anticipating an attack, yet it felt as if what he was doing had nothing to do with me. As I sat there, faces began to appear before me. Cawti looked at me with pity on her face, as if I had caught the plague and wouldn't recover. My grandfather looked stern but loving. An old friend named Nielar stared at me, calmly. And Franz appeared, oddly enough. He gave me a look of accusation. That was funny. Why should I care about him of all people? I mean, I hadn't known him at all while he was alive, and the little bit I'd known of him after his death told me that we had nothing in common. Except for the unique circumstances of our meeting, he would have had nothing whatever to do with me.

Why did my subconscious decide to bring him up?

I knew plenty of Dragaerans who seemed to feel that the Teckla were Teckla because that was how things were, and whatever happened to them was fine, and if they wanted to better themselves, let them. These were the lords of the land, and they enjoyed being what they were, and they deserved it and no one else did, and that was that. Okay. I could understand that attitude. It had nothing to do with the way things really were for the Teckla, but it made a lot of sense for the way things were for the Dragons.

I knew a few Dragaerans who cried aloud over the plight of the Teckla, and the Easterners for that matter, and gave money to charities for the poor and the homeless. Most of them were fairly well-off, and sometimes I wondered at my own contempt for them. But I always had the feeling that they secretly despised those they helped, and were so guilt-ridden that they blinded themselves to the way things were in order to convince themselves that they were doing some good, that they actually made a difference.

And then there were Kelly and his people; so wrapped up in how they would save a world that they didn't care about anyone or anything except the little ideas they had floating around their little heads. Completely, utterly ruthless, all in the name of humanity.

Those were the three groups I saw around me, and it came to me then, as I imagined Franz looking at me with an expression that oozed sincerity as a festering wound oozes pus, that I had to decide where I fit. Well, I certainly wasn't with the third group. I could only kill individuals, not whole societies. I have a high opinion of my own abilities, but it isn't so high that I'm willing to destroy an entire society on the strength of an opinion, nor would I be willing to set up thousands of people to be slaughtered if I was wrong. When someone messed up my life—as had happened before and would happen again—I took it personally. I wasn't ready to blame it on something as nebulous as a society and try to arouse the population to destroy it for me. J took it as it was; someone messing up my life, to be dealt with using a clean, simple dagger. No, I wasn't about to find myself with Kelly's people. The second group? No; I had earned what I had, and no one was going to make me feel guilty about having it, not even the Franz that my subconscious dredged up in a futile effort to torment me. Those who wallowed in guilt they hadn't earned deserve no better than they gave themselves.

I had once been part of the first group, and perhaps I still was, but now I didn't like the idea. They were the people I had hated so long. Not Dragaerans, but those who lorded it over the rest of us, and displayed their wealth, culture and education like a club they could beat us with. They were my enemies, even if I'd spent most of my life unaware of it. They were the ones I wanted to show that I could come up out of nowhere and make something of myself. And how surprised they had been when I did so!

Yet I couldn't, even now, consider myself one of them. Maybe I was, but I couldn't make myself believe it. Only once in my life have I truly hated myself, and that was when Herth broke me and made me face the fact that there was more to life than the will to succeed; that sometimes, no matter how hard he tries, there are things a man can't succeed at, because the forces around him are stronger than he is. That was the only time I'd hated myself. To put myself into the first group would be to hate myself again, and I couldn't do that.

So, where did that leave me? Everywhere and nowhere. On the outside, looking in. Unable to help, unable to hinder; a commentator on the theatrics of life.

Did I believe that? I wondered, but no answer came forth. On the other hand, I was certainly having an effect on Kelly. Herth, too, for that matter. That might have to be enough for me. I noticed that the air had become chilly, and I realized that I was calmer now and that I should go somewhere safe.

Since I was already at Malak Circle, I stopped in at the office and said hello to a few people who were still working. Melestav was in. I said,

"Don't you ever go home?"

"Yeah, well, things are popping right now, and if I don't keep things organized these bozos will screw everything up."

"Herth is still trying to get us?"

"Here and there. The big news is that the Empire has moved into South Adrilankha."

"What?"

"About an hour ago, a whole Company of Phoenix Guards came in and just occupied the place as if it were an Eastern city." I stared at him. "Was anyone hurt?"

"A few score of Easterners were killed or injured, I guess."

"Kelly?"

"No, none of his people were hurt. They moved, remember."

"That's right. What reason did the Empire give?"

"Disturbances, that kind of thing. Isn't this what you were expecting?"

"Not this quickly, or in that much force, or with anyone killed."

"Yeah, well you know Phoenix Guards. They hate dealing with Easterners anyway."

"Yeah. Do you have Kelly's new address?"

He nodded and scribbled it out on a piece of paper. I glanced at it and saw that I could find the place; it was only a few blocks from the old one.

"Oh, by the way," said Melestav, "Sticks wants to see you. He was thinking tomorrow, but he's still hanging around in case you came in this evening. Should I get him?"

"Oh, all right. Send him in."

I wandered into my office and sat down. A few minutes later Sticks showed up. He said, "Can I talk to you for a minute?" I said, "Sure."

He said, "You know Bajinok?"

I said, "Yeah."

"He wanted me to help set you up. You said you like to know about these things."

I nodded. "I do. Okay, you got a bonus coming."

"Thanks."

"When did he talk to you?"

"About an hour ago."

"Where?"

"The Flame."

"Who was with you?"

"No one."

"Okay. Be careful."

Sticks mumbled something and walked out. I blinked. Was I beyond being shocked or frightened? Or was I too far gone to care? No, I cared. I hoped nothing would happen to him. He'd also been the one to identify Quaysh, and between the two things that could make him a real juicy target.

In fact, an irresistible target.

And why would they wait? An hour ago, he said? This wasn't an especially difficult piece of work, and Herth had people on his payroll who did the simple cutthroat things because it was part of their jobs. I stood up. "Melestav!"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Has Sticks left?"

"I think so."

I cursed and sprinted through the building after him. A little voice in my head said, "Set-up," and I wondered. I opened the door and Loiosh flew out ahead of me. I stepped out onto the street, and looked around. Well, yes and no.

I mean, it was a set-up, but I wasn't the one being set up. I saw Sticks, and I saw the form coming quickly up behind him. I yelled, "Sticks!" and he turned and stepped to the side as a shadowy figure lurched toward him and stumbled. There was a dull thud as Sticks nailed the assassin with a club, and the latter fell to the ground. It was only then that I realized I'd thrown a knife. I came up to them.

Sticks retrieved my knife from the back of the individual on the ground before us, wiped it on the fellow's cloak, and handed it to me. I caused it to vanish. "Did you shine him?"

Sticks shook his head. "He'll be all right, I think, if he wakes up before he bleeds to death. Should we get him off the street?"

"No. Leave him here. I'll have Melestav let Bajinok know he's here, and they can do their own clean-up."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Be careful, all right?"

"All right." He shook his head. "I sometimes wonder why I'm in this business."

"Yeah," I said. "Me, too."

I went back inside and gave Melestav the necessary orders. He didn't seem surprised, but then I haven't surprised him since the time I brought Kiera the Thief into the office.

I sat down at my desk again and pushed aside all thoughts of what the Phoenix Guards were doing in South Adrilankha, and my responsibility for it. It wasn't that I didn't care, but I was involved in a war right now, and if I kept letting myself be distracted I was going to make a mistake, and after that I wouldn't be able to save Cawti, Sticks, myself or anyone else.

I had a war to win.

Sometime before, I'd been involved in a war where I was one of the contestants, as opposed to a mere participant. I learned the importance of information, of striking first, of keeping your enemy off balance and of thoroughly protecting your own area and people.

Herth had a bigger organization than I, but since I was the one who made it a full-scale war, I'd gotten in some good strikes at him. Furthermore, I had pretty much made sure that he couldn't hurt my organization. Of course, doing this resulted in a drastic loss of income, but I was quite well off at the moment, and I didn't think this would take long. I didn't really intend or expect to win this war in the usual way, I just wanted to force Herth out into the open so I could kill him. I thought to do it by making such a mess in his area that he'd have to take a hand in keeping it together.

That was half the plan, at any rate. The half involving Kelly was harder, but I had hopes for it. Damn Phoenix Guards, I thought. Damn the Empress. Damn Lord Khaavren. But Kelly was still in the same mess. I mean, what other choice did he have, if everyone else behaved as expected? And he probably realized that, judging from Cawti's reaction—

I thought about Cawti, and my plans and schemes fell away from my fingertips, where they'd been dancing for me. I saw only her for a moment and I cursed under my breath.

"So talk to her, boss."

"I just tried that, remember?"

"No, you argued with her. What if you tell her your whole plan?"

"She won't like it."

"But she might not be as upset with you as she is now."

"I doubt it will matter."

"Boss, you remember that what first got you upset was that she hadn't told you that she was involved with Kelly and those people?"

"Yeah… okay."

I sat for a bit longer, then went over to the front door, waving away bodyguards. I took a deep breath, made sure my mind was clear, drew on the Orb, shaped the threads of power, twisted them around myself and pulled them tight. There was the awful lurch, and I stood in the entry way outside the door to my flat. I leaned against the wall until the nausea was under control.

The instant I walked into the flat I knew something was wrong. So did Loiosh. I stood just inside the door, not closing it, and let a knife fall into my right hand. I looked carefully around the living room, trying to determine what was funny. And you know, we didn't get it? After fully ten minutes, we just gave up and went inside, still being careful, Loiosh going in ahead of me.

No, no one was waiting to kill me.

No one was waiting for me at all. I went into the bedroom, and saw that Cawti's clothing had been cleared out of the closet. I went back into the living room and saw that, of all things, the lam was missing, which is what Loiosh and I had noticed when we first came in. Funny how things like that work.

I tried to reach Cawti psionically but I couldn't. She wasn't interested in receiving my communication, or else I wasn't concentrating well enough to reach her. Yes, I decided, that must be it, I just couldn't think clearly enough right now to communicate psionically.

"Kragar?"

"Yes, Vlad?"

"Any word from Ishtvan?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. That's all."

Yeah, that must be the problem.

I went into the bedroom and shut the door before Loiosh could enter. I lay down on the bed—on Cawti's side—and tried to bring tears. I couldn't. At last, fully dressed, I slept.

…remove honing-oil stains.

I woke up very early in the morning feeling tired and still dirty. I undressed, bathed, and climbed back into bed and slept a bit longer. It was only when I woke up the second time, just before noon, that I remembered that Cawti had left. I allowed myself to stare at the ceiling for two minutes, then forced myself to get up. I kept stopping as I shaved, looking to see if there was any outward change in the face that stared back at me. I didn't see anything.