a dagger into your sleeve and another into your boot, and concealed a few shuriken in the folds of your cloak. All of a sudden you feel, I don’t know, like a force to be reckoned with. Does that make sense?
Now, in point of fact, you don’t want to show this at all. I never had to be told this; it’s obvious. Even in subtle ways, you don’t want to project the feeling of danger; you’d rather disappear. But there it is, anyway. Walking around with lethal surprises about your person changes the way you look at life; especially if you’re a sixteen-year-old Easterner in a city of Dragaerans. It feels great.
Why was I walking around carrying concealed weaponry? Because I’d been advised to by someone who ought to know. She’d said, “If you’re going to work for the Organization—and don’t kid yourself, Vlad, that’s what you’re doing—it’s always best to have a few surprises about you.”
That’s what I was doing: working for the Organization. I’d been given a job. It wasn’t clear exactly what my job was, except that it could involve violence from time to time, starting with today. I was human, hence smaller and weaker than the Dragaerans I lived among. Yet I didn’t fear violence from them, because I knew I could hurt them. I’d done so. More than once.
Now, for the first time, I was going to be paid for it, and I sure didn’t mind. Whatever becomes of me, I’m going to hold the memory of walking from my tiny little flat to the shoemaker’s where I was to meet my partner for the first time. A newly hatched jhereg whom I was going to make my familiar nestled against my chest, reptilian head lying just below my neck, wings tucked in, claws gripping the fabric of my jerkin. Occasionally I would “hear” him in my mind:
“Mama?”
I’d send back comforting thoughts that somehow didn’t conflict with the rather violent frame of mind I was in.
It was the sort of day you look back on later and see as a pivotal point in your life. Thing is, I knew it at the time. It was a day when magic things were happening. Every time I swung my left arm, I’d feel the hilt of a dagger press against my wrist. With every step, my rapier would thump against my left leg. The air was cool and smelled of the sea. My boots were new enough to look good, yet old enough to be comfortable. My half-cloak was old and worn, yet it was Jhereg-grey and I could feel it dance behind me. The wind blew my hair back from my eyes. The streets were midafternoon quiet. The buildings were mostly shut, and—
There was a shadow that stood out unnaturally from the tall apartment complex on my left. I paused and saw that the shadown was beckoning me.
I approached it and said, “Hello, Kiera.”
M ORROLAN LOOKED DISGUSTED ; IT was something he was good at. He said, “Sethra, you try.”
She nodded; brisk, businesslike. “Morrolan has a cousin; her name is—”
“Aliera. Right; I got that.”
“Aliera was caught in the explosion in Dragaera City that brought down the Imperium.”
“Okay. I’m with you so far.”
“I managed to save her.”
“That’s where you lose me. Didn’t Morrolan say she was dead?”
“Well, yes.”
“All right, then.”
She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair.
“You getting any more of this than I am, Loiosh?”
“Yeah, boss. I’ve already figured out that you’re messed up with a couple of nut cases.”
“Thanks loads.”
At last Sethra said, “Death isn’t as simple and straightforward as you may think it is. She is dead, but her soul has been preserved. It’s been lost since the Interregnum, but we have located it, with your help, as well as the help of . . . well, some others. Yesterday, it was finally recovered.”
“Okay, fine. Then why the trip to Deathgate Falls?” I had to suppress a shudder as I said the words.
“We need to have a living soul to work with, if not a living body. The body would be better, but the Necromancer can supply us
Now, in point of fact, you don’t want to show this at all. I never had to be told this; it’s obvious. Even in subtle ways, you don’t want to project the feeling of danger; you’d rather disappear. But there it is, anyway. Walking around with lethal surprises about your person changes the way you look at life; especially if you’re a sixteen-year-old Easterner in a city of Dragaerans. It feels great.
Why was I walking around carrying concealed weaponry? Because I’d been advised to by someone who ought to know. She’d said, “If you’re going to work for the Organization—and don’t kid yourself, Vlad, that’s what you’re doing—it’s always best to have a few surprises about you.”
That’s what I was doing: working for the Organization. I’d been given a job. It wasn’t clear exactly what my job was, except that it could involve violence from time to time, starting with today. I was human, hence smaller and weaker than the Dragaerans I lived among. Yet I didn’t fear violence from them, because I knew I could hurt them. I’d done so. More than once.
Now, for the first time, I was going to be paid for it, and I sure didn’t mind. Whatever becomes of me, I’m going to hold the memory of walking from my tiny little flat to the shoemaker’s where I was to meet my partner for the first time. A newly hatched jhereg whom I was going to make my familiar nestled against my chest, reptilian head lying just below my neck, wings tucked in, claws gripping the fabric of my jerkin. Occasionally I would “hear” him in my mind:
“Mama?”
I’d send back comforting thoughts that somehow didn’t conflict with the rather violent frame of mind I was in.
It was the sort of day you look back on later and see as a pivotal point in your life. Thing is, I knew it at the time. It was a day when magic things were happening. Every time I swung my left arm, I’d feel the hilt of a dagger press against my wrist. With every step, my rapier would thump against my left leg. The air was cool and smelled of the sea. My boots were new enough to look good, yet old enough to be comfortable. My half-cloak was old and worn, yet it was Jhereg-grey and I could feel it dance behind me. The wind blew my hair back from my eyes. The streets were midafternoon quiet. The buildings were mostly shut, and—
There was a shadow that stood out unnaturally from the tall apartment complex on my left. I paused and saw that the shadown was beckoning me.
I approached it and said, “Hello, Kiera.”
M ORROLAN LOOKED DISGUSTED ; IT was something he was good at. He said, “Sethra, you try.”
She nodded; brisk, businesslike. “Morrolan has a cousin; her name is—”
“Aliera. Right; I got that.”
“Aliera was caught in the explosion in Dragaera City that brought down the Imperium.”
“Okay. I’m with you so far.”
“I managed to save her.”
“That’s where you lose me. Didn’t Morrolan say she was dead?”
“Well, yes.”
“All right, then.”
She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair.
“You getting any more of this than I am, Loiosh?”
“Yeah, boss. I’ve already figured out that you’re messed up with a couple of nut cases.”
“Thanks loads.”
At last Sethra said, “Death isn’t as simple and straightforward as you may think it is. She is dead, but her soul has been preserved. It’s been lost since the Interregnum, but we have located it, with your help, as well as the help of . . . well, some others. Yesterday, it was finally recovered.”
“Okay, fine. Then why the trip to Deathgate Falls?” I had to suppress a shudder as I said the words.
“We need to have a living soul to work with, if not a living body. The body would be better, but the Necromancer can supply us
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