with . . . well, never mind.” Her voice trailed off, and consternation passed over her face.
“There you go again,” I said. “First you say you have her soul, then you say—”
“The soul,” said Sethra Lavode, “isn’t as simple and straightforward as you may think it is.”
“Great,” I said. I’m not sure, but I think Chaz might have smiled a bit. “Well, okay, how did it end up in the staff?”
“It’s complicated. Loraan put it there, though. He found it right after the Interregnum, in a peasant’s field somewhere. Now—”
“How did you know what the staff looks like?”
She gave me a scornful glance. “I can manage elementary divination, thank you.”
“Oh. Well, excuse me for living, all right?”
“I might.”
“So what is the state of her soul at the moment?”
She was silent for a few moments. Then she said, “Have you ever had cause to use a Morganti weapon?”
I held my face expressionless. “Maybe.”
“In any case, you are familiar with them?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you aware that Morganti weapons cannot destroy the soul of someone who is already dead?”
“Hmmm. I guess I’ve never thought about it. I’ve never had cause to go sticking Morganti weapons into corpses. It makes sense, though, I suppose.”
“It’s true. And yet the soul is still there, or else revivification would not be possible.”
“Okay. I’ll buy that.”
“And are you aware that sometimes the bodies of those highly respected by their House are sent over Deathgate Falls, there to walk the Paths of the Dead?”
“I’ve heard that, too.”
“So you can understand—”
“I understand that Easterners aren’t allowed to enter the Paths of the Dead, and that, in any case, no one except the Empress Zerika has emerged alive.”
“Both true,” said Sethra. “But those two facts, taken together, may indicate that an
Easterner
would be allowed to—”
“May?”
She hesitated. “I think it likely.”
“Great. And, for doing this, I get exactly what?”
“We can pay—”
“I don’t want to hear. Certain amounts of money are so high they become meaningless. Any less than that and I won’t do it.”
The two of them exchanged looks.
Morrolan said, “We’d very much like to convince you. It means a great deal to us, and there is no one else who can do it.”
“This conversation sounds really familiar.” I said. “You two had this in mind from the beginning, didn’t you?”
“We considered it a possibility,” said the Dark Lady of Dzur Mountain.
“And now you’re saying that you’ll kill me if I don’t do it.”
“No,” said Morrolan. “Only that we’ll be very grateful if you do.”
They were learning how to deal with me. This could be good or bad, I suppose. I said, “Your gratitude would be nice, but if I’m already dead—”
“I think you can survive,” said Sethra.
“How?”
“I’ve been there. I can tell you which paths to take and which to avoid, and warn you of dangers you are likely to encounter and how to protect yourself. That will leave you with only one danger, and I think the fact that you are an Easterner, who doesn’t belong there, will be enough to—”
“What danger is that?”
“From those who run the place. The Lords of Judgment.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. There was a sharp intake of breath from Chaz, who’d been standing in his usual position during the whole interchange. I said, “The Lords of Judgment?”
“You know,” said Sethra. “The gods.”
8
I noticed that the stiletto I’d stuck in the ground was vibrating, and I wondered what that meant. After a moment, I detected a low-pitched hum. I concentrated on it until I could pick out the beats.
Beats
. . .
Now, there was an idea.
I concentrated on the rhythm and held out my left hand, palm up. I concentrated on the humming and held out my right hand, palm up. I brought my hands together, turning them over so the palms met. Behind me, I
“There you go again,” I said. “First you say you have her soul, then you say—”
“The soul,” said Sethra Lavode, “isn’t as simple and straightforward as you may think it is.”
“Great,” I said. I’m not sure, but I think Chaz might have smiled a bit. “Well, okay, how did it end up in the staff?”
“It’s complicated. Loraan put it there, though. He found it right after the Interregnum, in a peasant’s field somewhere. Now—”
“How did you know what the staff looks like?”
She gave me a scornful glance. “I can manage elementary divination, thank you.”
“Oh. Well, excuse me for living, all right?”
“I might.”
“So what is the state of her soul at the moment?”
She was silent for a few moments. Then she said, “Have you ever had cause to use a Morganti weapon?”
I held my face expressionless. “Maybe.”
“In any case, you are familiar with them?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you aware that Morganti weapons cannot destroy the soul of someone who is already dead?”
“Hmmm. I guess I’ve never thought about it. I’ve never had cause to go sticking Morganti weapons into corpses. It makes sense, though, I suppose.”
“It’s true. And yet the soul is still there, or else revivification would not be possible.”
“Okay. I’ll buy that.”
“And are you aware that sometimes the bodies of those highly respected by their House are sent over Deathgate Falls, there to walk the Paths of the Dead?”
“I’ve heard that, too.”
“So you can understand—”
“I understand that Easterners aren’t allowed to enter the Paths of the Dead, and that, in any case, no one except the Empress Zerika has emerged alive.”
“Both true,” said Sethra. “But those two facts, taken together, may indicate that an
Easterner
would be allowed to—”
“May?”
She hesitated. “I think it likely.”
“Great. And, for doing this, I get exactly what?”
“We can pay—”
“I don’t want to hear. Certain amounts of money are so high they become meaningless. Any less than that and I won’t do it.”
The two of them exchanged looks.
Morrolan said, “We’d very much like to convince you. It means a great deal to us, and there is no one else who can do it.”
“This conversation sounds really familiar.” I said. “You two had this in mind from the beginning, didn’t you?”
“We considered it a possibility,” said the Dark Lady of Dzur Mountain.
“And now you’re saying that you’ll kill me if I don’t do it.”
“No,” said Morrolan. “Only that we’ll be very grateful if you do.”
They were learning how to deal with me. This could be good or bad, I suppose. I said, “Your gratitude would be nice, but if I’m already dead—”
“I think you can survive,” said Sethra.
“How?”
“I’ve been there. I can tell you which paths to take and which to avoid, and warn you of dangers you are likely to encounter and how to protect yourself. That will leave you with only one danger, and I think the fact that you are an Easterner, who doesn’t belong there, will be enough to—”
“What danger is that?”
“From those who run the place. The Lords of Judgment.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. There was a sharp intake of breath from Chaz, who’d been standing in his usual position during the whole interchange. I said, “The Lords of Judgment?”
“You know,” said Sethra. “The gods.”
8
I noticed that the stiletto I’d stuck in the ground was vibrating, and I wondered what that meant. After a moment, I detected a low-pitched hum. I concentrated on it until I could pick out the beats.
Beats
. . .
Now, there was an idea.
I concentrated on the rhythm and held out my left hand, palm up. I concentrated on the humming and held out my right hand, palm up. I brought my hands together, turning them over so the palms met. Behind me, I
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