Hawk (Vlad) Page 9

  I stopped in the doorway of a leathergoods store across the street, and watched it. This was my old area, and this store was a place I had been known to patronize. In other words, this wasn’t safe at all. Loiosh didn’t say anything, but I could feel his nervousness, a reflection of my own. After ten minutes, I said, “Okay, I think we’re good.”

  “Okay, Boss.”

  I didn’t recognize the man behind the counter. “Who are you?” I said by way of introduction.

  He was young and a Jhegaala and he didn’t know quite how to respond to an Easterner who carried a sword and wasn’t obsequious. While he was working it out, I snapped, “Well?”

  “Nyier,” he said. “I’m helping out.”

  “All right, Nyier. Then you can help me out.”

  I spent a lot of money there, but I came away with two fighting knives, three more throwing knives, six shuriken, two more daggers, and four darts that would be useless if I couldn’t get what I needed to mix up a batch of nerve toxin. It wasn’t as much as I used to carry, but it was considerably more than I’d had on me for the last few years.

  I left the place carefully and took myself all the way back to Little Deathgate and the inn I’d stayed at. It was still early, so I shouldn’t have to pay anything for the room.

  It took three full hours to arrange my new toys in places where I could get at them easily but they wouldn’t clank as I walked. Apparently, that was a skill that required constant practice. Who knew?

  When I was finally done, I had a brief interaction with the host, who wanted extra money for the room. He fumed and ranted. I gave him the cold look. The cold look won the argument. Lucky for him: if it hadn’t, I’d have glared. Then I set off once more for Malak Circle, aware of how stupid it was for me to be there. But a lot of what I needed to do was nearby, so it seemed a reasonable place to start what I figured was liable to be a fruitless search.

  “I need a base of operations, Loiosh. Somewhere I can have a reasonable chance the Jhereg won’t find me, and that’s close enough to the action that I don’t waste all of my time going from place to place.”

  “So you’ve been saying, Boss.”

  “Yeah.”

  “For months.”

  “Yeah. But now it’s a bit more urgent.”

  “Good. Then we should find a place with no problem, right?”

  “You aren’t helping.”

  I hung around the fountain, trying to duck into corners, while I thought about it. This really was just about the worst place for me, so close to my old office—

  “Boss, no!”

  “Loiosh, yes. They’ll never look for me there.”

  “No, because they won’t have to.”

  “It’ll work, Loiosh. Have I ever been wrong about this kind of thing?”

  “You mean this week?”

  “And if they do figure it out—”

  “When.”

  “It’ll still be damned bloody hard for them to get me there. It’s perfect.”

  “Except that you’ll have to leave, and you don’t dare teleport.”

  “There’s the tunnel, remember?”

  “And you’re betting everything that no one knows about it?”

  “Not everything. Just most things.”

  “Boss, this is just stupid.”

  If he was going to be unreasonable, there was no point in continuing the conversation. I took us down the street, skirting the edge of Copper Lane until the old place was just opposite. A deep breath, a careful look around, and then across the street to a little storefront that still sold the “Summer Wind” and “Sweetwater” strains of dreamgrass for the best price in this part of the city.

  It was a small place, and the smell would have been pleasant if it weren’t quite so intense; but I was only in for the space of a breath before going through the curtained doorway and into the back room with its tables and chairs and cards and sweat and an enforcer giving me a cold stare that looked like it could turn into a glare at any second. I couldn’t let that happen, I might not be able to stand it. So with everyone staring at me, I walked up to him and said, very softly, “Tell Kragar that Vlad is here.” I smiled at him. “If you don’t mind.” My hands were well clear of my body.

  He hesitated, then looked over at his partner, who hadn’t heard me. There was a moment when, I assume, they were speaking psychically, then they both shrugged and the one I’d spoken to turned to me and said, “Wait here.”

  I nodded and set about doing so. It wasn’t that hard, except for the constant itch between my shoulder blades.

  I didn’t have to wait long. Lord Tough-guy came down and, stepping aside, motioned me toward the stairs up to what had once been my office. I had to walk right past him, giving him a shot at my back from eight inches. Yes, Loiosh and Rocza were on full alert; and yes, this operation was controlled by someone I trusted completely.

  But making that walk still wasn’t easy.

  My courage was rewarded at the top of the stairs by a grin wrapped around the face of an old friend.

  “Vlad!”

  “Kragar. I can’t believe I can see you.”

  “Come in! Klava?”

  “Klava,” I said. “May you dwell forever in Barlen’s heaven of musical jewels.”

  “Sounds boring.”

  He led me past a couple of his enforcers and into his office, calling, “Klava!” as he walked by. I wondered—not for the first time—if he had trouble with no one noticing the orders he gave them. He sat behind my—his—desk; I sat facing it, but I turned the chair so I could stretch my legs out.

  “So, how’s business, Kragar?”

  “Good. Not so much income as when you ran things, but less trouble.”

  “No border disputes?”

  He smirked. “No one seems to notice my operations.”

  “Nice.”

  “And you? Anything new?”

  “I think I might have a way to get this matter handled.”

  “By ‘this matter’ do you mean—?”

  “Yeah.”

  He whistled. “How can I help?”

  “For starters, let me stay here.”

  “Here? In the office?”

  “I’ll curl up in a corner.”

  The klava arrived. I drank some, and the day became better.

  “Seriously, Vlad?”

  “Seriously. I need somewhere to operate from. Somewhere I know the Jhereg isn’t going to be able to get me.”

  “Here? This is your idea of a place the Jhereg can’t get you?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Vlad, did you lose your mind on the road, or was it since you came back?”

  “Kragar, who hangs out up here in your office?”

  “Jhereg, Vlad. You know, people who want to kill you?”

  “Yeah, have a lot of them done ‘work’?”

  “The people in my office? No, but—”

  “And do they do what you say?”

  “I…”

  “Yes?”

  “If word gets out—”

  “As Loiosh says, when word gets out. It will. And then they’ll have the problem of setting up a shot at me in the worst possible place.”

  “But every time you leave—”

  “Kragar, remember? I know about the other exit.”

  He frowned, looking pained. “How long?”

  “A few days at the most.”

  He shook his head. “All right. I’ll have my old office cleared out. Been using it for storage. However crazy I am for letting you do it, you’re crazier for wanting to.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “You know, I can’t believe you haven’t gotten me killed yet. Even once.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see if we can do something about that before it’s too late.”

  “Hey, thanks, Vlad.”

  “What are friends for?”

  “How does the thing work?”

  “What thing?”

  “Your idea for getting out from unde
r.”

  “Oh. It’s complicated. The short version is I’ve come up with a business opportunity so lucrative, the Demon says he’ll clear me if I can prove it’ll work.”

  “Really?”

  “So he says. And I trust him as well as I trust anyone in that position.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  I hesitated.

  “No,” he said. “Skip that. What do you need to make it work?”

  “Kragar, are you really asking me that?”

  “Yeah. I invited you to stay here, and now I’m asking what you need. Tonight, I’m going to drop a rock on my foot, and tomorrow is eat a live teckla day.”

  “Hey, now—”

  “Shut up.”

  “Fair enough,” I told Kragar.

  “So, what do you need?”

  “Any idea where we can find a hawk’s egg?”

  He frowned. “A hawk’s egg. I assume you mean the, you know, the magical hawk’s egg, not just the egg of some hawk.”

  “Right.”

  “I’d ask Daymar.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been trying to avoid that.”

  He chuckled. “I can understand that. I could look for someone else—”

  “No, no. We’ll go with Daymar. I told him I’d be needing his help again.”

  “That makes me feel better. If I have to deal with you, you have to deal with Daymar. More klava?”

  “Always.”

  “Want me to get a message to him?”

  “If you would, Loiosh would be grateful.”

  “Got that right, Boss.”

  “What should I tell him?”

  “Let’s say an hour before noon in the back room of Mertun’s.”

  “Will do. Need any money?”

  “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  He gave the orders for the message to be sent, then we sat in companionable silence while we waited for klava, and then again after it arrived. It was good, and I felt some tension drain out of me.

  * * *

  I was going to need a hawk’s egg.

  Depending on the region, it is known as the thorn-hawk, the gully-hawk, the scatter-hawk, or the brushbird. It is one of 114 varieties of raptors so far identified by Imperial naturalists, all of which are commonly called hawks. The thorn-hawk is ubiquitous in many regions, including the jungles near Adrilankha itself. It makes its nest in thorny shrubs, where the male guards the eggs and the chicks as the female hunts. Many naturalists believe that, long ago, by chance or design, essential material from an athyra was mixed with that of a raptor. Maybe so. What cannot be argued is that in the normal course of things, such a creature could not survive in the environments where it is found without some form of that odd hiccuping of nature that we call magic.

  As with all magical creatures, it is impossible to say how much of what it does is natural and how much supernatural. But there’s no doubt that one element is magical concealment of the nest. That’s what makes it so tedious to search through the jungle, looking at each nest, to find the one egg in thirty that cries out into the mind as having the peculiar properties needed.

  There isn’t much danger in the search; provided the searcher has a modicum of psychic ability—enough, that is, to send the cock away while eggs are searched; and enough savvy to survive in the jungle for the two or three days the search is liable to take.

  I know all of this, because I found it in Jescira’s Birds of the Southeast and most of it I just quoted word for word, at least as well as I can. If it bothers you that I did that, feel free to write a letter of complaint, fill it with threats and obscenity, and send it to Lord Morrolan, Castle Black. Let me know how that works out for you.

  * * *

  “Hawk’s egg,” Kragar repeated after a while. “I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never been clear on what they are, or what they’re used for. Is it a witch thing?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Some weird kind of sorcery?”

  “In a way.”

  “Psychics?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Vlad—”

  “I’m not an expert.”

  “I was starting to suspect that.”

  “Shut up. What I know about the hawk’s egg is that it comes from a particular kind of hawk, and it can be used by a witch to simulate the effect of a circle for a short time, and that psychics use it in different ways, and—”

  “Circle?”

  “A witchcraft thing. Amplifies power.”

  “So, you’re not sure what it does, or what it is, but you know you need one?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Uh, okay. What else do you need?”

  I shook my head. “Lots of stuff.”

  “Then I suppose we should get started.”

  “I saw the Demon about this.”

  “Yeah, so you said.”

  “Before I went in to see him, he tried to have me killed. For an on-the-spot effort with no set-up, it wasn’t a bad try. It was close.”

  “I’m listening, Vlad.”

  “That was fourth attempt on me in three days.”

  “Fourth?”

  “Yeah. All of them spur-of-the-moment, so I was able to survive, but—”

  Kragar looked me over. “You got nailed, didn’t you?”

  “Pretty bad, but I lived.”

  He nodded. “All right. Is there a particular point you’re getting at, Vlad?”

  “I’m saying that there have already been bodies, and there might be more before this is over.”

  “Just like old times.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Just like old times.”

  “Vlad? You okay?”

  “With any luck, I will be in a few days.”

  He nodded. “One more klava, then we switch to wine?”

  “Better eat something in between.”

  “Steamed kethna rolls.”

  “I just had some bad ones.”

  “So I’ll get us some good ones. I have a craving.”

  “I like how your mind works.”

  “More klava, first.”

  “I’m tempted to ask for a report.”

  “And then set me to learning an impossible number of things about unknown people in too little time?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Resist the temptation.”

  “Okay.”

  Someone poked his head in and asked Kragar if someone with a name full of consonants could slide another week. Kragar said to add another point.

  I drank some more klava. Not long ago, that would have been me. It was an odd feeling—mostly relief, but just a hint of nostalgia for seasoning.

  “Kind of miss it a bit, don’t you, Vlad?”

  “Get the fuck out of my head and order some kethna rolls.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  “Heh,” I said.

  He called out for someone to pick up a basket of kethna rolls and a bottle of Khaav’n. When it was delivered, he told the guy to pick up a pillow and a bunch of blankets. The guy didn’t even give him a funny look; just nodded and headed out.

  “I never would have thought it, Kragar.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, never mind.”

  I had the odd feeling of my shoulders relaxing when I hadn’t noticed they were tense. My hand twitched—not like it wanted to go for a dagger, but like it could. Does that make sense?

  “Time to pour some wine.”

  We spent the next couple of hours being lazy: drinking, exchanging stories, reminding each other of the good times and the bad, sometimes just sitting there. Talking about those hours is pretty dull, but it had been years since I’d spent more pleasant time. Yeah, there was a lot to do and this wasn’t getting it done. But.

  Somewhere in there, a non-magical kind of magic happened. Just that couple of hours did something. Even with half a bottle of wine in me, when I got up my head was clearer; I was more alert than I had been in longer than I cared to remember. I realized how lucky I had been in the fi
ght with the Demon’s button-men. I should have seen it coming sooner, and either avoided it, or struck sooner. I hadn’t been at my best. I hadn’t been at my best for years. I was going to need to be.

  “Glad to hear it, Boss.”

  “Which part, Loiosh?”

  “That you know you were off.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I assume that’s the sort of thing you mammals call a joke?”

  “Kind of, yeah.”

  “Boss, you know there was nothing to be done about it.”

  “That’s never stopped you before.”

  “I’m glad you’re back, Boss.”

  “Thanks.”

  “At least, partway back.”

  “Yeah.”

  Like I told Loiosh; I was at least partway back—back to feeling like my old, competent self.

  Yes, I’d have liked to spend time with my boy. And there was an Issola minstrel it would have done me a world of good to have sat around with, listening to her sing, drinking obscure liqueurs and chatting about a Teckla boy we both knew. Other things would have been good. But this was what I needed; I felt it. I felt a stirring of the old optimism, of the feeling that I wasn’t just a chip of wood swirling down a creek. I could swim against the current if I needed to. I could maybe even build a dam.

  I said good-bye to Kragar, and headed down the stairs, down more stairs, and into the tunnel. It let out in a part of the neighborhood that was relatively safe. There were no signs that I’d been spotted, so I blended in with passing crowds as much as I could while I made my way to Mertun’s Fine Wine Sampling House. I’d picked it because it was big, almost always busy, and you could enter it right from the street—in fact, when I was younger, I’d occasionally hang out there just to watch what happened when an obnoxious aristocrat left the place and bumped into another obnoxious aristocrat who was walking by. That’s entertainment, you know? Or it was when I was younger. I guess somewhere in there I got old and boring.

  “You said it, Boss, not—”

  “Shut up, Loiosh.”

  We went in without bumping into any obnoxious aristocrats. I approached the hostess and passed her some silver and said, “Back room free?”

  She looked me up and down disapprovingly. “Help yourself,” she said.

  I got a couple of glasses instead of cups because I prefer glass when possible, a habit I picked up years ago from Morrolan. I also got a bottle of the house white, which fell short of “fine” but was good and affordable, then I took us to the back room, Loiosh and Rocza making sure no one paid undue attention to us. I poured myself a glass and settled in to wait for Daymar.