The Book of Jhereg (7 page)

Now there was an idea. Daymar was strange, but psionics were his specialty. If anyone could do it, he could.

“I’m not sure we want to get that many people involved in this,” I said. “The Demon wouldn’t be real happy about the number of potential leaks we’d have to generate. And Daymar isn’t even a Jhereg.”

“So don’t mention it to the Demon,” said Kragar. “The thing is, we have to find him, right? And we know we can trust Daymar, right?”

“Well—”

“Oh, come on, Vlad. If you ask him not to talk about it, he won’t. Besides, where else can you get expert help, on that level, without paying a thing for it? Daymar enjoys showing off; he’d do it for free. What can we lose?”

I raised my eyebrow and looked at him.

“There is that,” he admitted. “But I think the risk involved in telling Daymar as much as we have to tell him is pretty damn small. Especially when you consider what we’re getting for it.”

“If he can do it.”

“I think he can,” said Kragar.

“All right,” I said, “I’m sold. Quiet a minute while I figure out what I’m going to need.”

I ran through, in my mind, what I was going to have to do to locate Mellar, and what I’d have to do so that Daymar could trace him afterwards. I wished I knew more about how Daymar did things like that, but I could make a reasonable guess. It seemed that it would be a pretty straightforward spell, which really should work if Mellar had no blocks against witchcraft.

I built up a mental list of what I’d need. Nothing out of the ordinary; I already had everything except for one small matter.

“Kragar, put word out on the street that I’d like to arrange to see Kiera. At her convenience, of course.”

“Okay. Any preference on where you meet?”

“No, just some—wait!” I interrupted myself, and thought for a minute. In my office, I had witchcraft protections and alarms. I knew these were hard to beat, and I wasn’t happy about taking any chances at all of this information leaking out. The Demon would be upset, anyway, if he knew that I was dealing with Kiera. I didn’t really like the idea of having one of his people see me talking with her in some public place. On the other hand, Kiera was . . . well, Kiera. Hmmm. Tough question.

Hell with it, I decided. I’d just shock the staff a little. It’d be good for them. “I’d like to meet her here, in my office, if that’s all right with her.”

Kragar looked startled and seemed about to say something, but changed his mind, I guess, when he realized that I’d just gone over all of the objections myself. “All right,” he said. “Now about Daymar. You know what kind of problems we have reaching him; do you want me to figure out a way?”

“No, thanks. I’ll take care of it.”

“All by yourself? My goodness!”

“No, I’m going to get Loiosh to help. There, feel better?”

He snickered and left. I got up and opened the window. “
Loiosh
,” I thought to my familiar, “
find Daymar
.”

“
As Your Majesty requests
,” he answered.

“
Feel free to save the sarcasm
.”

A telepathic giggle is an odd thing to experience. Loiosh flew out the window.

I sat down again and stared off blankly for a while. How many times had I been in this position? Just at the beginning of a job, with no idea of where it was going, or how it would get there. Nothing, really, except an image of how it should end; as always, with a corpse. How many times? It isn’t really a rhetorical question. This would be the forty-second assassination I’d done. My first thought was that it was going to be somewhat different than the others, at some level, in some way, to some degree. I have clear memories of each one. The process I go through before I do the job is such that I can’t forget any of them—I have to get to know them too well. This would certainly be a problem if I were given to nightmares.

The fourth one? He was the button man who would always order a fine liqueur after dinner and leave half the bottle instead of a tip. The twelfth was a small-time muscle who liked to keep his cash in the largest denominations he could. The nineteenth was a sorcerer who carried a cloth around with him to polish his staff with—which he did constantly. There is always something distinct about them. Sometimes it is something I can use; more often it is just something that sticks out in my memory. When you know someone well enough, he becomes an individual no matter how hard you try to think of him as just a face—or a body.

But if you take it back a level, you once more wind up with the similarities being important. Because when they come to me as names mentioned in a conversation, over a quiet meal, with a purse handed over which will contain
somewhere between fifteen hundred and four thousand gold Imperials, they
are
all the same, and I treat them the same: plan the job, do it.

I usually worked backward: after finding out everything I could about his habits, and following him, tracking him, and timing him for days, sometimes for weeks, I’d decide where I wanted it to happen. That would usually determine the time and often the day as well. Then it was a matter of starting from there and working things so that all of the factors came together then and there. The execution itself was only interesting if I made a mistake somewhere along the line.

Kragar once asked me, when I was feeling particularly mellow, if I enjoyed killing people. I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know, but it set me to thinking. I’m still not really sure. I know that I enjoy the planning of a job, and setting it in motion so that everything works out. But the actual killing? I don’t think I either consciously enjoy it or fail to enjoy it; I just do it.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. The beginning of a job like this is like the beginning of a witchcraft spell. The most important single thing is my frame of mind when I begin. I want to make absolutely sure that I have no preconceived notions about how, or where, or anything. That comes later. I hadn’t even begun to study the fellow yet, so I didn’t have anything to really go on. The little I did know went rolling around my subconscious, free-associating, letting images and ideas pop up and be casually discarded. Sometimes, when I’m in the middle of planning, I’ll get a sudden inspiration, or what appears to be a sudden burst of brilliance. I fancy myself an artist at times like this.

* * *

I came out of my reverie slowly, with the feeling that there was something I should be thinking about. I wasn’t really fully awake yet, so it took me awhile to become aware of what it was. There was a stray, questing thought fluttering around in my forebrain.

After a while, I realized that it had an external source. I gave it some freedom to grow and take shape enough for me to recognize it, and discovered that someone was trying to get into psionic contact with me. I recognized the sender.

“
Ah, Daymar
,” I thought back. “
Thank you
.”

“
No problem
,” came the clear, gentle thought. “
You wanted something?
” Daymar had better mental control, and more power, than anyone I’d ever met. I got the feeling from him that he had to be careful, even in mental contact, lest he burn my mind out accidentally.

“
I’d like a favor, Daymar
.”

“
Yes?
” He had a way of making his “yes” last about four times as long as it should.

“
Nothing right now
,” I told him. “
But sometime within the next day or so, I expect to need some locating done
.”

“
Locating? What kind of locating?
”

“
I expect to have a psionic tag on a fellow I’m interested in finding, and I’ll want some way to figure out exactly where he is. Kragar thinks you can do it
.”

“
Is there some reason why I couldn’t just trace him now?
”

“
He has a block up against sorcery tracing spells
,” I told him. “
I don’t think even you can get past them
.”

I was damn sure Daymar couldn’t get past a block that was holding off the best sorcerers of the Left Hand, but a little judicious flattery never hurt anything.

“
Oh
,” he said. “
Then how do you expect to put a tag on him?
”

“
I’m hoping he didn’t protect himself against witchcraft. Since witchcraft uses psionic power, we should be able to leave a mark on him that you can find
.”

“
I see. You’re going to try to fix him with a witchcraft spell, and then I locate him psionically from the marks left by that. Interesting idea
.”

“
Thank you. Do you think it will work?
”

“
No
.”

I sighed. Daymar, I thought to myself, someday I’m going to . . . “
Why not?
” I asked, with some hesitation.

“
The marks
,” he explained, “
won’t stay around long enough for me to trace them. If they do, they’ll also be strong enough for him to notice, and he’ll just wipe them out
.”

I sighed again. Never argue with an expert.

“
All right
,” I said, “
do you have any ideas for something that would work?
”

“
Yes
,” he said.

I waited, but he didn’t go on. Daymar, I said to myself, some day I’m
definitely
going to . . . “
What is it?
”

“
The reverse
.”

“
The reverse?
”

He explained. I asked a few questions, and he was able to answer them, more or less.

I began thinking of what kind of spell I’d have to do to get the kind of effect he was talking about. A crystal, I decided, and then I’d start the spell out just like the other one, and then . . . I remembered that Daymar was still in contact with me—which, in turn, brought up another point that I really ought to clarify, given whom I was dealing with.

“
Are you willing to do the locating for me?
” I asked.

There was a brief pause, then: “
Sure—If I can watch you do the witchcraft spell
.”

Why am I not surprised? I sighed to myself once more. “
It’s a deal
,” I said. “
How do I get in touch with you? Can I count on finding you at home if I send Loiosh again?
”

He thought about that, then: “
Probably not. I’ll open up for contact for a few seconds on the hour, each hour, starting tomorrow morning. Will that do?
”

“
That will be fine
,” I said. “
I’ll get in touch with you before I start the spell
.”

“
Excellent. Until then
.”

“
Until then. And Daymar, thanks
.”

“
My pleasure
,” he said.

Actually, I reflected, it probably was. But it wouldn’t have been politic to say so. The link was broken.

* * *

Sometime later, Loiosh returned. I opened the window in answer to his knocking. Why he preferred to knock, rather than just contact me, I don’t know. After he was in, I closed it behind him.

“
Thanks
.”

“
Sure, boss
.”

I resumed reading; Loiosh perched on my right shoulder this time, and pretended to be reading along with me. Or, who knows? Maybe he really did learn to read somehow and just never bothered to inform me. I wouldn’t put it past him.

The job was under way. I couldn’t really go any further until I had some idea of where Mellar was, so I turned my attention to who he was, instead. This kept me occupied until my next visitor arrived, a few hours later.

M
Y RECEPTIONIST, IN THE
two years he’d been with me, had killed three people outside the door of my office.

One was an assassin whose bluff didn’t quite work. The other two were perfectly innocent fools who should have known better than to try to bluster their way past him.

He was killed once, himself, delaying another assassin long enough for me to heroically escape out the window. I was very relieved when we were successful in having him revivified. He fulfills the function of bodyguard, recording secretary, buffer, and whatever else either Kragar or I need. He may well be the highest-paid receptionist in the world.

“
Uh, boss?
”

“
Yes?
”

“
Uh, Kiera is here
.”

“
Oh, good! Send her in
.”

“
That’s Kiera the Thief, boss. Are you sure?
”

“
Quite sure, thank you
.”

“
But—okay. Should I escort her in, and keep an eye
—”

“
That won’t be necessary
” (or sufficient, I thought to myself). “
Just send her in
.”

“
Okay. Whatever you want
.”

I put down the papers and stood up as the door opened. A small Dragaeran female form entered the room. I recalled with some amusement that I had thought her tall when we had first met, but then, I was only eleven at the time. And, of course, she was still more than a head taller than I, but by now I was used to the size difference.

She moved with ease and grace, almost reminiscent of Mario. She flowed up to me and greeted me with a kiss that would have made Cawti jealous if she were the jealous type. I gave as good as I got, and pulled up a chair for her.

Kiera had a sharp, rather angular face, with no noticeable House characteristics—the lack of which was typical for a Jhereg.

She allowed me to seat her and made a quick glance around the office. Her eyes clicked from one place to another, making notes of significant items. This
wasn’t surprising; she’d taught me how to do it. On the other hand, I suspected that she was looking for different things than I would be.

She favored me with a smile.

“Thanks for coming, Kiera,” I said, as warmly as I could.

“Glad to,” she said softly. “Nice office.”

“Thanks. How’s business been?”

“Not hurting, Vlad. I haven’t had any contract jobs in a while, but I’ve been doing all right on my own. How about you?”